A Marathon of Sweaty, Twitchy Restlessness or Rob's Commute

About four years ago I found myself checking my schedule for the next few weeks and found that I was going to be flying from Spokane to Seattle to photograph a football game, and I was very excited. It didn’t matter that I could have driven to Seattle any weekend I wanted, what mattered was that I was being sent out of town, on an airplane, on assignment.

In the four years since that Labour day weekend assignment in Seattle the romance I ascribe to getting on a plane for work has suffered a terrible ebb and flow. I spent 18 hours in transit last Wednesday and I only made it from one coast to another, I didn’t even leave the continent. While I was waiting for my much delayed connection out of Liberty Airport in New Jersey I contemplated all the places I could have flown to within 16 hours of Vancouver. The list is extensive. I calculated for 16 hours allowing myself to arrive at YVR two hours prior to departure like the responsible passenger I am.

After five hours in Continental Cargo Class I was waiting to deplane with my head pressed against the overhead compartment surrounded by equally sweaty, twitchy and restless passengers when it dawned on me that this is no longer fun. Little did I know that worse indignities were yet to come. After waiting for three hours my fellow passengers and I were compensated for the delay with a coupon. I now know what three hours is worth, you can take your pick: a free drink, or head set or $15 discount on a duty free purchase of over $75 on a future flight.

After four years of traveling for work I have only one expectation of air travel; that I and my luggage arrive safely and on time. Apparently this was too much to ask of Continental this past Wednesday. The icing on the cake was the damage done to my bike and my bike helmet. While wheels can be trued there is only one cure for a fractured helmet: replacement. I have had some experience testing the limits of bike helmets but I have never fractured one, no matter how hard my melon has hit the ground. I can only imagine the force with which my bag was “tossed” to break my Bell Nemesis Pro.