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Death, glory, and knackered kneesThe continuing [mis]adventures of Lord Barnes ... |
"When I've got time I'll tell you about my bike/cement/human statue occurrence. Think Scottish river but include cement." |
Oh lets start with the getting up at 4am bit.
Taxi from the hotel to Houston International (if that’s not an oxymoron); because I had the dumbest driver in all of the States - "I want the AIRPORT, not the small grass landing strip 10 miles out of town" - I only just checked in on time.
The flight was empty, and I mean empty, just me and 3 stewardesses (fantasy starting to form here).
I guess not many people want to fly from redneck land to Chicago at 5.30 in the morning.
Arrive on time at Chicago, I have ten mins to catch my connecting flight to Denver.
I snatch my stuff from baggage reclaim and sprint, rather difficult when carrying bike bag and
hold-all, to the check in. Woo hoo, departure is delayed 1 hour.
Dump my baggage off and load up on breakfast, pancake follows pancake (carbo loading, honest).
Check departure board and flight is still 1 hour late, just as it was 45mins ago. Something not
right here. Ask chap at the departure gate what’s happening. "Waiting for pilot" is the reply I
don’t want to hear, I explain this to him. "Look , that’s not the answer I wanted, can you try again?".
He comes back with "the pilot is late, he’s on a connecting flight".
Now where have I heard that before? The words JFK and flight to Miami spring to mind.
OK, no worries, just need to eat more pancakes to help ease the stress.
After another hour, no pilot and the flight is cancelled, things are starting to go down hill.
Explain to the rep from AA that I need to be in Denver ASAP to collect a hire car to drive to some
god forsaken mining town in the middle of nowhere to ride in a race for bikes with only one gear.
She looks at me as if I am from Mars. "Sir the next flight to Denver is in 3 hours, we can get you on that".
My heart sinks. With a weak smile I agree and I’m transferred to that flight.
Never mind, that gives me 3 hours to eat more pancakes (carbo loading).
Get to Denver at last, only 5 hours late and pick up hire car.
"Sorry sir you're late, we had to give your requested car away".
Right. Can it get worse?
"All we’ve got left is this, we’ll upgrade you for free"
The gleam in my eye and the huge grin on my face was my only reply. I’d booked a cheap and cheerful
compact and they were offering me a big f$%k off 4x4 jeep. Way hay...
Pull out of Denver in the panzer and head out on my 9 hour drive up over and down the Rockies.
After about 3 hours I’m up in the clouds and its bloody freezing, there’s snow on the ground and
the road signs are flashing snow warning.
Decision time, do I carry on driving through the night or pull over, eat, sleep and miss the race?
Common sense takes over and I look for a Motel, I don’t want to die in a burning jeep at the bottom of some snow filled pass, not this year anyway.
Wake up Saturday morning, all dreams of glory gone and a wee bit disappointed, never mind.
What to do? I know, I’ll ring the car hire people to extend the hire time then change the flights
home and I’ll drive to Moab, only about 4 hours away and warm’ish.
So I do, just spent 2 days thrashing around the trails of Moab, much better than some silly hunt for a world ranking. Well perhaps not, but a decent stand-in until I enter next year’s worlds.
Less spur of the moment and more planing next time I think.
Rumour is that it’s in Australia, oh dear!
Edwin Barnes
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