Commentary - pcgazette.com

Commentary
pcgazette.com

Traveling by air often means waiting

By JIM SCHUH
of The Gazette
We've all heard the maxim that if you have plenty of time, you should travel by air. Let me share with you a few experiences along those lines.

There was the time I was flying from Washington, D.C. back to Stevens Point via the Twin Cities when a snowstorm temporarily closed down the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. My flight finally arrived there just in time to see the last plane to the Central Wisconsin Airport take off without me. I made it home the next morning.

I recall the time Martha and I flew from Milwaukee to Cleveland. My parents dropped us off at the airport in Milwaukee and then drove to Cleveland. You guessed it - they arrived an hour before we did. It was long ago, but I remember sitting in the plane at Mitchell Field while the crew spent two hours changing a flat tire on the North Central jet. After we finally made it to Detroit, our connecting flight to Cleveland was long gone. We waited for a few hours for another one. Although this had nothing to do with the flight delays, I also remember a man in a business suit sitting ahead of us on the bumpy Detroit to Cleveland flight spilling a cup of hot coffee in his crotch, and sort of dancing in the aisle while things cooled down.

Well, those experiences pale by comparison with our recent trip to New Zealand with Gerry and Alice McKenna.

We left the airport at Mosinee one Wednesday morning at 10 o'clock, planning to arrive in Auckland at 5 a.m. New Zealand time on Friday, before the final leg to Christchurch pulled up to the terminal at 9:15 that morning. Although it sounds like a two-day excursion, the actual travel time is about 30 hours, since the trip involves crossing the International Date Line, and losing a day.

In reality, our journey ended on a Saturday afternoon around 3 o'clock. I think we beat Capt. Cook's voyage time by just a few hours.

The bugaboo happened in Omaha.

Why were we in Omaha? Well, Midwest Express, a very fine, Milwaukee-based airline started by the people who make Depends, has what airlines call a hub in Omaha. A hub is a gathering point for several of the airline's shorter flights, where bigger planes pick up the passengers and fly them to distant locations. Our Milwaukee-to-Los Angeles plane stopped in Omaha to take some Nebraskans and Iowans to the West Coast.

All was going well until takeoff. After applying full power to the engines and getting the plane rolling, the pilot abruptly pulled back on the throttle, and announced an indicator light had come on, telling him there was no power in one of the two engines. It's hard to argue with his decision to abort the takeoff and return to the terminal. A while later, the announcement came: the rest of the flight was canceled. That's when the Domino theory I've always heard about began.

It's very difficult to get to anywhere from Omaha. There aren't all that many flights out of the city, and when you try to re-book a whole planeload of people onto other planes, it takes some time.

When our turn came at the ticket counter, we had two options: return to Milwaukee and start all over on a nonstop to Los Angeles, or get on a Frontier Airlines jet to Denver, and then take another of that carrier's flights to L.A. The problem: both options would get us to the West Coast an hour after our New Zealand-bound plane took off.

We reasoned that returning to Milwaukee was a step in the wrong direction, so we opted for the planes to Denver and Los Angeles.

All went well, but we weren't prepared for what awaited us at the Air New Zealand ticket counter in L.A. After explaining to the agent why we missed the flight to Auckland, she informed us that all the airline's flights were booked solid, and there was nothing available until next week.

The only option was to get on a stand-by list.

This was Wednesday night. Can you imagine the pall of disbelief that settled over us as we pondered spending up to four days in the L.A. airport? There we were, eight suitcases full of everything we owned except the car and the lawnmower (we took special pains to pack light).

Midwest Express came through with a hotel voucher and some meal money to assuage our feelings of helplessness. So after commandeering a front-end loader to help get our bags into the hotel shuttle bus, we resigned ourselves to the fact we'd be spending the night in balmy L.A.

Tune in again next week for the conclusion of this exciting saga.

You may reach Jim Schuh at the Gazette, or by e-mail at jpschuh@excite.com.



	Traveling by air often means waiting By JIM SCHUH of The Gazette We've all heard the maxim that if you have plenty of time, you should travel by air. Let me share with you a few experiences along those lines. There was the time I was flying from Washington, D.C. back to Stevens Point via the Twin Cities when a snowstorm temporarily closed down the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. My flight finally arrived there just in time to see the last plane to the Central Wisconsin Airport take off without me. I made it home the next morning. I recall the time Martha and I flew from Milwaukee to Cleveland. My parents dropped us off at the airport in Milwaukee and then drove to Cleveland. You guessed it - they arrived an hour before we did. It was long ago, but I remember sitting in the plane at Mitchell Field while the crew spent two hours changing a flat tire on the North Central jet. After we finally made it to Detroit, our connecting flight to Cleveland was long gone. We waited for a few hours for another one. Although this had nothing to do with the flight delays, I also remember a man in a business suit sitting ahead of us on the bumpy Detroit to Cleveland flight spilling a cup of hot coffee in his crotch, and sort of dancing in the aisle while things cooled down. Well, those experiences pale by comparison with our recent trip to New Zealand with Gerry and Alice McKenna. We left the airport at Mosinee one Wednesday morning at 10 o'clock, planning to arrive in Auckland at 5 a.m. New Zealand time on Friday, before the final leg to Christchurch pulled up to the terminal at 9:15 that morning. Although it sounds like a two-day excursion, the actual travel time is about 30 hours, since the trip involves crossing the International Date Line, and losing a day. In reality, our journey ended on a Saturday afternoon around 3 o'clock. I think we beat Capt. Cook's voyage time by just a few hours. The bugaboo happened in Omaha. Why were we in Omaha? Well, Midwest Express, a very fine, Milwaukee-based airline started by the people who make Depends, has what airlines call a hub in Omaha. A hub is a gathering point for several of the airline's shorter flights, where bigger planes pick up the passengers and fly them to distant locations. Our Milwaukee-to-Los Angeles plane stopped in Omaha to take some Nebraskans and Iowans to the West Coast. All was going well until takeoff. After applying full power to the engines and getting the plane rolling, the pilot abruptly pulled back on the throttle, and announced an indicator light had come on, telling him there was no power in one of the two engines. It's hard to argue with his decision to abort the takeoff and return to the terminal. A while later, the announcement came: the rest of the flight was canceled. That's when the Domino theory I've always heard about began. It's very difficult to get to anywhere from Omaha. There aren't all that many flights out of the city, and when you try to re-book a whole planeload of people onto other planes, it takes some time. When our turn came at the ticket counter, we had two options: return to Milwaukee and start all over on a nonstop to Los Angeles, or get on a Frontier Airlines jet to Denver, and then take another of that carrier's flights to L.A. The problem: both options would get us to the West Coast an hour after our New Zealand-bound plane took off. We reasoned that returning to Milwaukee was a step in the wrong direction, so we opted for the planes to Denver and Los Angeles. All went well, but we weren't prepared for what awaited us at the Air New Zealand ticket counter in L.A. After explaining to the agent why we missed the flight to Auckland, she informed us that all the airline's flights were booked solid, and there was nothing available until next week. The only option was to get on a stand-by list. This was Wednesday night. Can you imagine the pall of disbelief that settled over us as we pondered spending up to four days in the L.A. airport? There we were, eight suitcases full of everything we owned except the car and the lawnmower (we took special pains to pack light). Midwest Express came through with a hotel voucher and some meal money to assuage our feelings of helplessness. So after commandeering a front-end loader to help get our bags into the hotel shuttle bus, we resigned ourselves to the fact we'd be spending the night in balmy L.A. Tune in again next week for the conclusion of this exciting saga. You may reach Jim Schuh at the Gazette, or by e-mail at jpschuh@excite.com.