Direct VS. Nonstop

Beware the wrath of Mother Nature in February -- especially if you plan on traveling with an almost 2-year-old.

If Kenzie and I weren't considered "seasoned travelers" before last week (we did fly across the country 4 times last year...), we certainly ought to have earned that title now.

When we woke up at 4:15am (after a whopping 2.5 hours of sleep for me) last Thursday, we thought we were in for a long day -- simply because it started so early and because we were changing from Eastern time to Pacific time. Little did we know...

We departed Cleveland on a DIRECT flight to Las Vegas around 7:15 am -- arriving around 8 am (CST) in St. Louis. We were merely supposed to drop off passengers, and pick up a few more. It was scheduled to be a 20 MINUTE STOP. (Thus, the definition of a DIRECT flight -- we might stop, but we don't change planes.)

Passenger after passenger boarded...completely filling up every overhead bin space and floor space underneath the seats. I held out as long as I could -- hoping to save a seat for Kenzie. No such luck -- every seat was taken as they allowed many stand-by passengers to board.  Good things come in small packages, and luckily for me, the last person allowed to board was a fit and trim looking girl about my age.

We chatted for a few minutes -- me immediately apologizing that she got stuck next to us. Thankfully, she was a mother of 2 young children herself. Ironically, she had lived in Cleveland for 3 years while her husband did his medical residency. We all settled in for our 3.5 hour trip to Vegas.

Time passed and the plane didn't move. People started getting wondering what was taking so long. Kenzie enjoyed doing squats on my lap and laughing at our fellow travelers. 

More time passed.

My new friend informed me that it had taken 40 minutes to scrape the ice off her windshield and that the roads had been pretty bad on her way to the airport. A glance out my window revealed that ice pellets were sticking to the glass. A feeling of foreboding tried to creep in but I did my best to ignore it.

More time passed. 

The other lady in our row became very anxious -- expressing to us that her dad was dying in Las Vegas and that she was desperate to arrive before he passed away.

More time passed -- and more ice pellets formed. I started to get a panicky, "I-wonder-if-I-might-be-clausterphobic," type feeling.

I'll spare some details...but around 12:30, after sitting on the runway for 4+ hours, the plane went back to the gate. We were instructed to get off, grab lunch, use a "real" restroom, and stay close so that as soon as we got the OK, we could take off.

That's bad huh? Imagine how much fun it would be for you to travel with a 2 year-old, on 2.5 hours of sleep...only to sit on the runway for 4+ hours. Who knew that would be the good part? It only got worse.

We were ushered back on the plane about 40 minutes later -- only to pull away...and sit. And sit. And sit. Kenzie finally crashed for about 45 minutes. Finallly, around 3:30 pm - we were told, "We are really sorry. We've done our best but Mother Nature has won this battle. We are going back to the gate. You'll need to get your luggage and go home. We are closing the airport."

WHAT?!? Go home? That would work if we had a home in St. Louis...but what about those of us who don't? And what about those of us traveling with small children, (a backpack, stroller, diaper bag and two suitcases?) who can't even carry their luggage and their child?

Enter here the kindness of strangers:

My new friend was hardly a stranger at this point. I mean really, when was the last time I talked to Greg for 8 hours straight? I felt I knew a lot about this girl (including the fact that when she lived in Cleveland, we had the same OBGYN. What are the odds of that?) She, along with another family traveling with small children offered to let me spend the night at their house. And, out of complete desperation and not-knowing what else to do...I decided to take her up on the offer. 

Greg's comment when I called to inform him of our situation was, "Don't get murdered." Isn't that just like a cop?

So, we deplaned and spent the next 30 minutes trying to sort our black luggage from the thousands of other black bags that were piling up in baggage claim. Afterall....the airport was closed. (Note to self: if you are ever in the market to purchase new luggage -- canary yellow is a good option!)

We braved the roads and arrived at my friend's house where I met her husband and enjoyed a turkey sandwich. At some point during the conversation, we realized the ice had stopped and that the weather looked much better. So, I made another call to 1-800-I-FLY-SWA. Once again, I was told that it would be difficult to get a ticket from St. Louis to Las Vegas as I was never supposed to be in St. Louis. (I skipped those details previously.) I was also informed that the airline had pulled all tickets to accommodate those people displaced by the weather in St. Louis. Hmmm....wasn't that ME?

To make a long story longer...I got put on a "we-can't-guarantee-it" flight to Kansas City, connecting to Las Vegas at 6:15pm. My new best friends rushed me back to the airport, where I left Kenzie in their car as I ran inside to get a boarding pass. (I still can't believe I did that...but at this point, I felt I could trust them 100%). I cut in line and begged to get on the flight (it was supposed to leave within 30 minutes.) Unfortunately, the ticket that had been put on hold via the phone, was no longer available...and it was at this point that I momentarily broke down and cried.

After much deliberation, Jim (my new Southwest employee friend), got me on another flight to Kansas. I thanked my other friends for the offer to spend the night -- and sprinted towards security -- only to get stopped for the FULL-BLOWN security check. If you've never had that experience, it includes the wand, the drug test, the camera battery test, the "what are you really carrying in that sippy cup test," and so much more. Suffice it to say that by the time we made it to the gate...the flight that was scheduled to arrive in St. Louis (and take us to Kansas or Kansas City or Oklahoma City or who-knows-where) had been sent back to the gate in Louisville...and we were stuck. AGAIN.

The news was not good -- we were told that if we didn't get out of St. Louis that night...we likely wouldn't make it out the next day either. The storms were supposed to continue and the flight schedule was iffy. I think I cried again at that moment. Fatigue and frustration had set in. Kenzie was an angel...but she was past her limit as well.

Normally, I wouldn't let my child roll around on the airport floor, or take candy from strangers. But, desperate times call for desperate measures. Finally, with no other viable alternatives, we got booked on another flight-- to Cleveland. We waited another 1.5 hours and arrived home around midnight -- in the same place we had started 19 hours before. 

Thankfully, the Friday flight was a NONSTOP...meaning that barring some unforeseen circumstances, assuming we could leave Cleveland...we wouldn't stop until we made it to Las Vegas. Talk about a sense of deja vu' as I entered the airport again, greeted the same TSA employees, bought another bagel at the same shop and was greeted by the same clerk. (I remembered that on Thursday, she told me it was her birthday the next day. Imagine her surprise when I told her Happy Birthday. She gave me the bagel for free since I wished her a happy day.)

The flight arrived late from Baltimore (Mother Nature was wreaking havoc there) and we finally arrived in Las Vegas late Friday afternoon -- about 2.5 hours past schedule...and only about 36 hours from the time we started. We could have driven in that amount of time!

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PS - Our return trip was delayed by a day as well -- due to the 12-18 inches of snow that was dumped on Cleveland. At least this time I was enjoying the sunshine, blue skies and 70 degree temperatures!