Summer Vacation - Part 6 of 6

The road to West Yellowstone. Because the way was all winding two lane road, we spent the next three hours looking at the back of trailer 704.

The “get home” part of the trip started on Day 8. We packed up the rental Mitsubishi as the sun was cracking over Old Faithful and the early-bird crowd looking for the geyser to come to life. The day’s route took us up the west side of the Park’s south loop until we hit the road to West Yellowstone. Turning left, we followed the Madison River to the border of Montana and tourist town on the edge of the Park. Passing through West Yellowstone, we marveled at the shops and businesses catering to the park visitors. We’d considered a stop in town, but it was too early in the day, so we zoomed north on US-191 through the Gallatin River valley towards Big Sky and Bozeman.

Entering the Big Sky traffic snarl, still looking at the back of 704.

US-191 wound its way down out of the mountains following the river. All along the way we saw ranches and cabins built in breathtaking settings. We also saw what seemed to be a large number of whitewater sports outlets. Raft carrying trailers and busses made their way along the road to launch and recovery points on the Gallatin River. Adding to the slowdown, road crews were adding gravel and preparing to pave the highway. The north bound lanes had been graveled earlier, and now the crews worked on the southbound lanes. From the one stoplight intersection in Big Sky, the traffic going uphill, opposite us, was stopped. We kept moving at a slow but steady pace and noticed the opposite lane was immobile for eleven miles. The Captain and I felt fortunate that it wasn’t us. We’d have missed our flight home for sure.

Once we arrive in Bozeman, we grabbed lunch on the patio of a local place called Revelry. (revelrymt.com) The food was good and the service was even better. If you find yourself in the neighborhood, it’s worth a stop. With a few minutes to spare, we wandered through a few shops before returning the vehicle and presenting ourselves for TSA inspection at the airport. Bozeman is a small airport, so we sailed through without any issues, and settled in for the long haul home via Las Vegas.

More that a month prior to leaving home, the airline nixed our direct flight home, replacing it with a change of planes in Las Vegas and a four hour layover. We’d get home in the wee hours of the morning instead of dinner time, but there wasn’t much to do about it. When we arrived in Vegas that afternoon, we dutifully waited for our early evening flight. We got a light “meal” at one of the understaffed and over crowded restaurants and then reported to the assigned gate. I was once again reminded that you can be assured you are going to Ohio based on the attire of your fellow passengers. It invariably includes the colors gray and scarlet. Usually has some “O” theme, and maybe some giant presentation of the word “THE.” Oh well. At least you know a safe topic of conversation well in advance of your random seating on the 737.

After pondering the value of poisonous tree nuts for awhile, we watched a pleasant looking lady step up to the gate podium, pick up the PA mic and drop the bomb nobody wanted to hear. She announced the Ohio bound flight was cancelled. There were no more flights today. There was no room on the flights tomorrow, and our luggage would not be available because it was going to be forwarded to the destination on the first flight the following day. She invited us to form a line in front of the podium and wait to be assisted in making other arrangements, or we could visit the airlines’s website and re-book ourselves. Looking about the multi-gate waiting area, I was amazed at how fast all the other airline employees vanished from view. (I’m sure they are tired of fielding the complaints of irate travelers after a long summer of snafus.) About the time The Captain got logged in to sluggish website, she received an email explaining that we’d been reassigned to a flight on the evening of the day after next. A two day delay with no offer of lodging, meals and without our luggage? Well, that wouldn’t do. While I called home, The Captain deftly rescheduled us on the first flight out in the morning, going to Dallas-Love and then on to Indy, where we booked a rental car for the three hour drive home. Now all we had to do was wait for the boarding call at four o’clock the next morning.

We were fortunate enough to spend a couple hours in the USO, but it closed at eight because of a volunteer shortage, so out in to the gen-pop we went. (There were stranded travelers on every piece of floor that wasn’t in the direct flow of traffic, most of them rough from a few days on the town.) Hey, Hey, nothing like spending the night in the Las Vegas airport where there are next to no services available except bathrooms in need of cleaning and slot machines! The only sustenance available during the night time hours came from vending machines, and those were sold out of anything you might actually want to eat or drink. The one item that was available in quantity was the bottom corner wire spiral dispenser loaded with off-brand crazy hot cheeze puffs. I didn’t think it would make a good breakfast since there wasn’t anything to wash them down. The drink machines all had full banks of “sold out” lights. Well, there’s always the six tiny pretzels and two ounces of beverage on the plane the next morning!

While The Captain slept on the floor, (she can sleep anywhere) I watched the maintenance crew complete some evolution involving the slats, flaps and speed brakes on our ride. I also watched the cleaning staff swab the bathrooms at 3:30 am. Nothing gets by my sleeplessness!

Day 9 and the 4 am boarding time for our flight couldn’t come soon enough. After waiting all night, we finally boarded the jet, comfortable in the knowledge that once airborne, we might snag an hour long nap. The leg to Dallas-Love went by in the blink of an eye, and we exited into the most crowded terminal I can remember. There were long lines for everything. Coffee, food, gate agents, and especially the bathrooms, which by the time we arrived, were already in need of cleaning. It reminded me of concert venue bathrooms I experienced at rock shows in the 1980s. Just plain gross. Hey airline execs! Not a good look for your home field.

We had some time between flights, so we concentrated on food. Look around and find the shortest line. There! Chick-Fil-A! A couple biscuit sammies and caffinated beverages and we’ll be on our way. Somehow, that line, while it was the shortest, used up most of our lay-over to get through. But we made it! On to the next flight.

Waiting to board the flight to Indy.

The flight schedule said we’d land in Indy exactly in time to drive home and collect Grace the Dog from the kennel, so I called the kennel and gave them the low down. They said no problem, we’ll stay for half an hour. If we could get there in time, we didn’t have to leave the dog for another night. The mission was on! We arrived a couple minutes ahead of schedule, and since our bags were already at the destination, we skipped directly to the Avis counter. The Captain snagged the Kia Soul on the front line and we zipped out of the airport. The next trick was getting through or around Indy. A fellow passenger told me to go around to the south because of construction, but the live traffic map on my mobile device said the south bypass was bumper to bumper. We elected to go straight through town, taking the surface street detour. It was stop and go for about ten minutes, but it worked out. (According to the local radio station, traffic was stopped on the south bypass). Back on I-70 East, we did out best to make haste, and arrived just as the kennel folks were getting ready to call it a day. The dog was excited to see us, and we were glad to be back home. Thank goodness there would be no Day 10.