So today is Friday and I am flying out of Shenandoah Valley to cover the WNIT game in Stillwater, Oklahoma. Til now, I've never been past the Ohio Valley, so this was certainly going to be an experience regardless of what ended up happening...
What took place is both literally and metaphorically the longest day of my life. But let me begin at the beginning.
Luckily I had no class today, so I didn't have to do the whole "traveling to Oklahoma on school business, don't count me absent" thing. The first plane left Shenandoah Valley Regional Airport (which for some reason I keep calling shenandoah national airport- which is CLEARLY isn't if you've ever been there) at 2:25. So I left around 1 just to make absolutely sure I had absolutely enough time to get there. My directions state it's a quick 25 minute drive down the interstate, so that would be more than enough time. (you might think you know where this is going, but I promise, you don't.)
25 minutes down I81 from Harrisonburg is the 81/64 junction. So I assumed the airport was around that area. Around 8 miles before the merge, I started looking for airport markers. 5 miles... 3 miles... 1 mile... Junction. I'd been past the junction before, but never when I was driving- only on a family trip to Roanoke or trips to West Virginia through Beckley, etc. So as I passed two more stops after the junction, I decided I would get off at the next exit and plug in my GPS and let it guide me to the airport.
(Why didn't I just use my GPS to begin with? Well my car only has one 12V plug in and I wanted to listen to my ipod... duh.)
Well of course the next exit wasn't for another seven miles. But as I got off and plugged in the GPS, it told me to just hang a right and drive a couple miles down the road. Perfect! Fortune favors the ipod-inclined directional hopefuls. Actually, not so much. The GPS directed me through downtown Mint Spring, which consisted of a Post Office and two driveways. After a few more miles of driving, Emily (my GPS, named after a former YMCA coworker) dropped me back on 81/64 and told me to drive 20 miles back toward Harrisonburg. I had overshot the airport by 20-some miles.
In reality, the airport is in Grottoes at exit 235, a seven-mile drive from the the Harrisonburg city limits. By now it was already 1:45, and my plane was leaving in 40 minutes. I had 20+ miles to go.
I proceded to drive at a rate that I will not reveal online because I know my parents will be reading this. But take my word for it. It was fast.
...Until the RV/Camper that was in front of me had a tire that completely exploded before my eyes and started blowing really black, tarry smoke everywhere. This guy refused to get off the road, blown tire and all though, so he continued drive, switching lanes back and forth like he was vying for the most indecisive man award.
I finally got to Grottoes around 2, leaving me very little time to get to the airport and get settled. (Remember, I've never really flown, so I need some extra time just to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to be doing.) I fly off the interstate ramp and drive half a mile down the road to find A TRAIN. As I crest over a hill, I see the arms descending to block the road, and I have to wait. You think this is going to be a short train? Yeah right. This clearly is not my day.
The airport is practically on the other side of the tracks, thank God, so after I finally get past the stupid train tracks, I arrive at the airport about two minutes later. I get inside, happen to walk to the right counter out of sheer dumb luck, check my one bag, and go sit in the lobby.
Of course by now it's 2:15 and I know they're about to call for the security for the flight, and HOLY CRAP I FORGOT MY IPOD IN MY CAR.
I absolutely sprint out of the building- I can't make this trip without my ipod, and I don't particularly care if that means I need to leave my bag unattended to get it, airport lady on the PA- and make it back to my car. I rip open the door, grab my ipod, slam the door shut, and rush back inside. Thank you, body of a former track star. ("star" here is used pretty loosely.)
Now, here's probably about the part where you're thinking this story must be close to over, because holy crap this has gone on for a while. But remember... all I've done is got to the first airport.
Next, they called for security. Everyone clearly knew what to do here, and I... didn't. I had to be told like three times to take my shoes off because I was so busy trying to get stuff in the right bins. They confiscated my RGX spray- clearly a weapon of mass destruction- but I get that they're just doing their job. I have like 5 cans of the stuff so no harm no foul. I do now get to say though that I had something confiscated by TSA.
Side story: I totally did say this. Actual conversation between me and my lovely editor, Carleigh Davis:
Me: sweet, i can now check "have something confiscated by tsa" off my bucket list. yessss
CD: What'd they confiscate?
Me: my gun. did you know you cant take guns on an airplane? I had no idea.
CD: YOU TOOK A GUN??
Me: HAA. got you
CD: omg
Me: haha damn I got you good
CD: Fuck you.
Me: oh stop, you love me.
Me: My plane could crash and I could die you know. ignoring me will only make you more wistful after I'm dead.
Once we got on the plane... I mean I knew the plane ride from SVRA to Dulles would be short but wow. I'm definitely taken shits that took longer than this flight.
We got to Dulles around 3:00PM, but my flight for OKC didn't leave until after 7. So I hunkered down with a burger in Dulles' Five Guys and chilled. Around 5, some guy straight off a plane from India came up to me wanted to call his son. He had a phone with his son's number, who I think lived in Jersey according to the phone number he was calling, so I'm not entirely sure why he couldn't use his own. But it was cool to help somebody who had just got to America. (his english was pretty broken, and that was one of the only bits I could get out of him.)
I knew that the plane would leave around 7:20 or 7:30 and would land soon after 9. But it wasn't until standing in the shadow of the plane that I realized that was nearly a three hour flight because of the time change. So I braced myself for a longer flight than I had initially anticipated.
On the plane, I sat in the midst of an awkward combination of a girl from Clarksburg, who I was very interested in talking to, and a bunch of Oklahoma State fans, who I was fairly hesitant to talk to. I wasn't keen on them finding out who I was or where I was from, but I eventually got to talking to one of them after the flight and told her I was from Harrisonburg in the Valley and was covering the WNIT. I stupidly told her it had been a long day, VA to DC to OK, and she proceeded to tell me she started the day in Rome. Yeah, I felt pretty dumb.
I wish I could say I was done at that point, but my phone was dead, I still had a checked bag to find, and I had to go get my rental car. After a pit stop at an electrical outlet to charge my phone, I secured the keys to the rental car (around 11 or 12 years nicer than the KiaOutMobile, not complaining) and started on my scavenger hunt for where it was hiding in the rental garage. It took ten minutes to find the car, ten minutes to get settled in the car and figure it out, and another ten minutes just to find the exit out of the garage.
From there, it was into the jaws of Oklahoma City. You might not think it was that big if you've never been out here, but holy shit, Oklahoma City makes Richmond look like BFN. It's like the entire city is a series of ramps on ramps on ramps. And yeah... that was a Racks reference. I'm tired. Get over it.
And then nothing. All of a sudden, I was in actual BFN, with nothing but what I'm assuming were giant telephone poles and even bigger fields, but I'm not totally sure. Rural Oklahoma isn't like Virginia where even in places like Dinwiddie and Goochland, both of which I've spent fair amounts of time in, the countryside is more or less lighted. No lights in Oklahoma. Even with the cars' lights on, it was like driving with my eyes closed. Bizarre experience.
An hour or so later I finally pulled into the Quality Inn that I'm staying at. My clocks all said about three different times, so I had no idea what time it actually was here, let alone back in HBurg where everyone else is. I saw what I'm pretty sure was the JMU girls' basketball bus, and took small comfort in knowing that I had finally caught up to them.
As I walked into the lobby to check in and grab my keycard, the guy at the front desk looked at me and started asking me questions like my last name and stuff. Pretty routine questions, really. I was exhausted, and it was all I could handle just to answer the most basic of questions.
The last question he asked me was a killer- I'm tired, in the 25th hour of my day, which shouldn't even be possible, and I just want to go to sleep. I can barely communicate. Without missing a beat, the guy looks at me and says, "Did you drive a car here?"
I stood there for a moment, looked up at him, and replied,
"Nah man. I walked here from Virginia."
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