Travel Trauma

We hugged Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop goodbye on their front doorstep and bundled into the Airbrook car for our ride to Newark airport. The time was 2:45 PM EST. The mood was good. The sun was shining. However, we knew the sun was not shining in SF and Reno. A huge storm was expected and we were racing the clock -- if we didn't get to Reno by tonight/tomorrow morning early, we probably would not be able to until Sunday since they were expecting blizzard conditions in the mountains and I-80 would likely be shutdown and unpassable for a few days.

Despite a convoluted path charted by our driver (to avoid tolls, I am certain) we arrived at the airport in plenty of time and passed through security with minimal hassle and interruption. (Interestingly, the whole stripping of the metal and baring the feet mamba is becoming part of muscle memory at this point. It took 6 years but in another six I doubt I'll remember it any other way.)

The flight was to depart at 5:30 PM EST. We killed the hour before the flight's boarding time by perusing the bookstores, letting the kids run around a bit, and draining out the last bit of fluids from their bodies. Finally, it was boarding time and since we had wonderful seats in the very back of the airplane, we were in the first boarding group following the privileged in first class. Just as we were handing our boarding passes to the gate agent, the announcement was made that the flight was being delayed until 7:00 PM EST due to weather in San Francisco. Oh goody.

So, back we tromped to the food court area and ate things we weren't really hungry for but hopefully would help the time pass faster. At 6:30 PM, they boarded the plane again. Luciana and I assumed our regular positions -- Luciana next to the two boys and me on the other side of the aisle. She is the more accomplished entertainer in cramped spaces. I may be gung-ho for any outdoor activity they would like to do but I admit I am squeamish about having to actually interact while on a plane. I like to retreat into my shell and read, work on the laptop, sleep, watch a movie... basically, anything that does not require another person.

The flight was uneventful. It was 5.5 hours long so there was a number of "how much longer" queries and the occasional moment of irritation between the boys but they were relatively few and far between. In fact, they were great overall. We landed in Newark at approx. 9:30 PM EST.

We elbowed our way to a prime position around the baggage carousel, smarte cart at the ready. An hour and a half later, we had our bags. Yes, a full 90 minutes were required before we had all our bags thanks to the crack Continental staff who were clearly understaffed to handle the number of flights arriving. And so, we left the airport and waited for the airplane shuttle to take us to the hotel where we had left our car.

The airplane shuttle comes every 15 minutes, except when we are waiting for it. This time, we waited about 40 minutes. And Lu had to call the hotel twice to encourage them to page the driver. Anyway, we made a quick pit stop at the hotel. We were originally planning to spend the night and leave in the morning but with the impending storm, we had already decided to hoof it back tonight. Unfortunately, the hotel insisted on charging us for the room for the night so we did the quickest check-in and check-out in history. Checked in, used the bathroom, took everything that wasn't nailed down (hey, they were charging us for the night!) and then check-ed out and packed up the car and set out for Reno.

Luca was asleep before we left the hotel parking lot. It was about 12:15 AM PST at this point. Mateos claimed to be hungry so we found a McDonalds and ordered some nuggets, etc. When we turned around to ask him what he wanted at the drive through, he too was asleep. More food for us. After the drive through, we finally set out in earnest for Reno at 12:35 AM PST.

It was obviously pitch black at this point and there was occasional rain and some pretty strong wind gusts but nothing spectacular. We were making very good time and I was feeling pretty spry behind the wheel despite the long day so far. We crossed into Nevada and it looked like we would make it home by about 3:45 AM. Then we started seeing electronic signs warning us that chains would be required on I-80 in the mountain pass. Unfortunately, we did not have chains for the car but capitalism being ever present I was certain that there would be opportunistic individuals willing to sell us some despite the time of night.

We hit "Applegate" and there was a check-point there. It was now about 2:45 AM or so. The transportation official manning the site informed us that as of the current minute chains were not required but that was likely to change by the time would would hit the pass (about ~45 min. away) and he pointed out a place that sold chains (and the he undoubtedly received a cut from) and we dutifully went off and bought them from this total shack that was in the middle of nowhere. The man there read my tire numbers and handed me my chains and I parted ways with $61.

Back on the highway, we buzzed along feeling secure that we now had our chains but hopeful that we wouldn't have to use them and feeling a creeping sense of anxiety as we passed each sign warning of the blizzard conditions on the mountain pass. Sure enough, we soon started encountering snow and slushy roads. The slush caught the tires a number of times and caused the car to leer a little bit but nothing unusual or scary. Another 15 minutes and the snow was really picking up and the road conditions were deteriorating. The roads on this part of I-80 are full of curves and fairly steep up and downs. Plus, there are absolutely no street lights and so visibility is extremely limited. I was white knuckling the steering wheel for a good 20 minutes already by the time we hit the 'chain installation' way point.

Signs now informed us that chains were required and would be checked ahead. So, we pulled over at the chain installation service area and resigned ourselves to the fact that we would need to put them on. Having never, ever seen tire chains before in my life and not wanting to experiment with them on a high mountain pass I decided to pay for the installation service. I found one of the orange jump suited guys and asked for help. He said, sure, just to sit tight because he had two more cars to do and then he'd get to me.

I returned to the car and waited with Lu inside while the boys slept. The weather was literally worsening by the minute as we waited and Luciana was growing a tad impatient and was openly wondering whether we should 'go for it' and try to go without the chains before the weather became even worse. The roads didn't look any worse here than they had been for the last 10 miles or so and she was probably right that if we went less than 25 MPH we would be OK. But I was too nervous to try it. But after another half hour of waiting I was starting to wonder whether she was right.

I went out of the car again and froze my butt off talking to a trucker. Trucker's were in abundance. There was easily 40 rigs pulled over and putting on their chains. The trucker told me the chains were already required and anyway without them would be turned back. He seemed to know what he was talking about even though he looked *exactly* like the guy Stanley on the tv show The Office.

Well, the orange jumpsuit finally got to my car another 45 minutes later. The reason for the delay was obvious -- the dude could not stop chit-chatting with everyone and everybody who walked by. He clearly had no better place to be. So, after 5 minutes of useless introduction chit-chat were undoubtedly he sized me up as a rube he asked for my chains. He tossed them on the ground, took a quick look and quickly pronounced they were the wrong size. I of course told him that they should be the right size, that they were based on my tire size etc. He wouldn't have it and of course proclaimed they were soo big they would likely fall off.

I could feel the scam tightening. Orange jumpsuit and I went back and forth for a few minutes but he had done enough to make me a little nervous; the chains did look a little big and I really needed this guy to put them on since I had no idea how to do it safely. Being a real prince, orange jumpsuit offered to 'buy' my chains from me for the great price of $25 and give me a pair that fit correctly and only charge me $30 for installation. This fool and his money were parted with again. I didn't feel I had much of a choice at this point. We had to get moving and I had to get some damn chains installed.

Installing the chains took all of 5 minutes. I happily pulled away from the installation area and the jumpsuit rapist to the wonderful battering drone of my tire chains drumming away on the pavement. It was now about 4:15 AM. The snow was very heavy and I was very glad for the chains. We crept along going 20 MPH behind a crew of plow-trucks for about 11 miles. It was impossible to see anything on the road -- no lane markers, not the impending turns, nothing except for the reassuring glow of the orange lights of the snow plows. The snow plows turned off the road and we were left to our own devices for about 10 harrowing minutes. Thankfully, it was only a few miles later that we emerged from the difficult part of the mountain pass and reached the chain removal point.

Tired of subsidizing these scavenger birds drinking habits, I decided to forgo the organge jumpsuit assistance in removing the tire chains. After all, it didn't look very difficult. So, I jumped out of the car brimming with confidence. Unfortunately, I landed in about 3 inches of freezing cold, watery slush. After a moment of self-loathing and disgust, I slogged my way to the front of the car and removed the chains. Yes, it was so easy that even a blurry eyed incompetent at 5:30 AM in the morning can remove them without trouble.

Freezing feet and all, we got going with the last leg. By this time, I felt like Clark Griswald in Vacation. I'd been up now for about 20 hours and the constant squinting and peering through windshield had taken a toll. I was alert/awake but drained. Lu and the boys were off in drool land with their heads lolling about. At least Lu woke up every few minutes to ask me if I was OK.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. We pulled into the garage at 6:30 AM PST. We pulled the boys limp bodies from the car and plopped them clothed into bed. I peeled off my wet socks, washed my hands and fell into deep deep sleep.