HORRID

I’ve never been a fan of flying. In fact, I’ve taken every opportunity to drive to a destination rather than save time and fly there.

I know a fear of flying is irrational. I know that flying is a far safer mode of travel than driving. I know I can save a lot of time by flying rather than driving.

Again, my fear is irrational.
I also don’t like flying, and not because I’m scared of it. I don’t like the recycled air. I’ve yet to get off a plane and not come down with some gross cold a few days later. I don’t like to hear the young children scream when the pressure gets to their ears. I certainly don’t like the little brat behind me that feels the need to kick the back of my seat every thirty seconds for three hours. I don’t like being crammed into a small seat (and I’m thin) like cattle and being unable to move around and stretch my legs.

However, interestingly enough, none of these reasons are behind my airline horror story.

No, my horror story takes us back to April 1987. I was on Spring Break during my freshman year of college. I had just spent the week in Aspen skiing up a storm. This trip was also the first time I broke my nose (landed wrong) skiing. It certainly wasn’t the last.

For those of you that don’t know about Aspen, it is famous for a few things. First of all, it is one of the nation’s premier ski areas. Second of all, it is one of the snootiest places on the planet. This is where money talks and everything else walks. I was lucky, I had cousins that invited me to spend the week skiing and were generous enough to pick up the tab.

Anyhow, it started snowing on my last day in Aspen. I had to get back to school, because the end of the quarter was approaching (the University of Denver is on a quarter system) and I had term papers and finals coming up very shortly. I got to Pitkin Airport, which is just outside of Aspen, and my cousins began their long trek home.

If you’ve never been to Pitkin Airport, think back to the NBC sitcom called “Wings.” Pitkin Airport consists of a small room and two gates. Why? There were only two airlines that flew out of Pitkin back then – Rocky Mountain Airways (Continental) and Aspen Airways (United). All the flights for Aspen Airways had left for the night, and I was waiting for my flight on Rocky Mountain Airways.

Suddenly, over the loudspeaker (why they have one in a terminal with two gates I’ll never understand) they announce my flight has been cancelled due to snow.

Due to snow?

I looked outside, and while it was snowing, the ground was just dusted. How could they be canceling my flight because of snow?

I went to the counter and inquired why the flight was being cancelled. I was told by the ticket agent/baggage clerk/security guard/floor sweeper that Rocky Mountain Airways’ planes are not equipped to fly in the snow, because they lack some sort of radar equipment to make that sort of flying safe.

And you are flying these planes, during snow skiing season, in Colorado, Wyoming, Montana and Utah? They’re not equipped to fly in the snow? Are they joking?

I went to the other counter and was met by the same ticket agent/baggage clerk/security guard/floor sweeper. All the sudden, what came out of this idiot’s mouth was straight out of a bad comedy flick.

“Yes sir, may I help you?”

I could feel my blood pressure rapidly approach the boiling point. I asked if there were any flights going out for Aspen Airways. This person said they would be going out tomorrow, but there were no other scheduled flight that evening.

OK fine. I decided I would just sleep in the terminal until morning and take the first flight out. I checked with the ticket agent/baggage clerk/security guard/floor sweeper and found there was indeed an opening on the 6:30am flight. I got myself booked on the flight. I found a corner and sat down and closed my eyes.

About thirty minutes later, the ticket agent/baggage clerk/security guard/floor sweeper woke me up and said I couldn’t sleep in the terminal. It is against county regulations for anyone to sleep in the terminal.

OK fine. I asked the ticket agent/baggage clerk/security guard/floor sweeper if Continental would be willing to put me up for the night, since it was due to their poor and outdated equipment that I was stuck in Aspen for the night. They said they would if they could, however, there were no openings at any of the local hotels due to it being Spring Break for most colleges.

You can imagine the little ditty I was in. I don’t live in the area. I can’t get to a hotel because they’re all booked. I can’t stay in the terminal because it violates county regulations. I have a suitcase, skis, and no one to call, and no place to go. On top of that, it was snowing outside. The only people I could call were probably still on the road.

I hired a cab back to town. My first attempt to find a warm place to sleep was fruitless. I met the single snootiest human being on the planet I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, I’m sure he was earning minimum wage as the night desk clerk in a hotel. However, walking down the road, I found a nice clerk at the next hotel down the street who took pity on me and allowed me to sleep on the couch in her lobby.

The clerk got off work at 5:00am and offered to drive me back to the airport. Naturally, I agreed and thanked her for her kindness.

I went back into the terminal and walked up to the ticket counter for Rocky Mountain Airways. I showed them my new ticket, handed them my luggage, and waiting for boarding on the plane. After all, I was an hour early, and figured the fiasco was coming to an end.

The flight back to Denver was uneventful. Actually, I didn’t run into any kids kicking the back of my seat. However, I attribute this to being one of about six passengers on the entire plane, and there was room for about 40 passengers.

I went to baggage claim at Stapleton Airport. I waited. I waited some more. Where’s my luggage?

I marched off for the ticket counter in what you could imagine was pure rage at this point. Just how on earth do you lose luggage on a 35 minute flight with six passengers on it that had no previous stops or further stops?

I get to the ticket counter, and have composed myself the best I can. I’m really ticked off, and cannot imagine being this stuck under Murphy’s Law.

I politely – as polite as one could be in my state at the time – asked where my luggage is. They check and see that it was never checked in from Pitkin Airport.

Well that was enough to set me off. I didn’t need any more buttons pushed, because there were no more buttons to push. I asked how on God’s green earth could my baggage not be on the flight? I reminded her that I checked in over an hour early, the flight had six people on it, and was a 35 minute flight.

Two days later, my skis and my luggage came. Apparently it had been sent to the wrong plane, and it took them that long to track down my missing bags.

I got the name and address of the president of Continental Airlines and wrote him a letter about a week later. I explained the situation, and how displeased I was with the whole experience. I was kind of hoping they would return the airfare for that leg of the trip.

Two weeks later, I received a letter from Continental thanking me for my comments and how they were looking forward to having me fly with them again