Houston – At Least We Aren’t in Milwaukee

It seems the travel gods have taken a liking to the idea of a random road trip and have decided to play along. After one of the mildest winters in Wisconsin history, the first major snow fall of the season decided to coincide exactly with time of our departing flight, making the first night’s adventure a little different then anticipated.

As heavy, wet snow covered the trees and roads , original RRT’er Lish provided the transportation for the first leg of our trip. She deftly navigated her way through the storm to drop Jason and me off at the airport, wishing us all of the luck – which we would be definitely needing.

As the departures board slowly turned to red, we remained hopeful. Although no plane was at our assigned gate our flight continued to stay On Schedule. The snow grew heavier and still no plane, but no further information was forthcoming and the board mocked us – continuing to say On Schedule. We now knew we were trapped between knowing our flight was at least delayed, but having to stick near the gate, instead of the bar, to await more word.

At last an iced over plane appeared through the snowy fog. A blast of cold swept through the terminal as a new group of stranded passengers joined our vigil. At last an announcement was made! Our flight was to begin boarding – and only 30 minutes late! Giving us even more hope was the sweet twang of Texas accents coming from the pilot and crew. We both knew the last place they wanted to be was in the heart of a snowstorm. Seats were shuffled and optimism was still coming from the cockpit, but after forty-five minutes, fortunes changed and we were lead back to the gate.

Checking our timetable and with the weather improving, there still was a chance we could make our connection in Houston, but that window was closing quickly. The window soon slammed on our fingers as we were told the runway would be shut for plowing for 20 minutes, but we shouldn’t worry because we would be deicing for at least 35.

After the plane’s long rinse, we were at last in the air, but this is when we realized packing some food might have been a smart idea. Between the two of us we only had a package of gum a Caribbean rum sampler pack and a shot of scotch to supply some subsistence.

Saving the scotch for more desperate times, we both settled in with our Cuba Libres and cheered to at least not being in Milwaukee.

After the three-hour flight we arrived in the desolate Houston airport and checked with the gate agent. Although Ben was booked on a morning flight, Jason wasn’t scheduled to leave until 4:30 PM, with all earlier flights booked solid. This was disappointing, but hey – at least we are not in Milwaukee.

Hotel reservations were made and after the shuttle bus to the rental cars left without us, the decision was made to just call the shuttle from the hotel. But, hey – at least were not in Milwaukee

After being informed the shuttle driver had already gone home for the night, we decided why not splurge and take a cab – I mean let’s still remember – we at least made it out of Milwaukee.

After checking into the hotel getting some sort of food was our top priority. Luckily a 24-hour Jack-in-the-Box and Taco Bell was conveniently located next to our hotel, and the weather was perfect for a late-evening stroll. Finding the door to the Jack-in-the-Box locked, we walked over to the drive-thru window. After being awkwardly ignored by the teller for a good minute or so, she yelled through the glass no walk-thrus were allowed. Pleading our case did not weaken her resolve so we were forced to move on. Taco Bell was the same story so we headed back to the hotel, deciding on the way that although it would take awhile, our best option would be to order a pizza and hey, although we were hungry and tired and Jason was going to be stuck in Houston later than we thought, at least we were out of Milwaukee.

Back at the hotel the night manager informed us, with a little bit more glee than the occasion warranted, that all of the pizza places don’t deliver past 11, but there was a gas station that had some sandwiches. With our spirits low, we made our way to the gas station and brought back our dinner of chicken sandwiches, chips and water. After a quick nuke at the breakfast bar, we brought our meals up to the room. It was far from gourmet, but at this point it just didn’t matter, and hey – at least we were out of Milwaukee.

As Jason settled into a chair, I popped out my contacts to change into glasses. This trip, like the bully it was, handed them to me – broken into two.

After getting some tape from the front desk the glasses were repaired enough that I could at least see my food, which probably wasn’t for the best Jason on settled into our respective beds, watching Clerks and thinking at least we aren’t in Milwaukee.

Also, Beets made it to New Orleans – no further details were forthcoming.