Eastbound to South America |
Bob Packard had been desert hiking that morning. Imagine that - poised for an international journey and yet so enamored of the outdoor life that an extra little climb simply had to be squeezed in! The action spoke of a determination that would do him proud in Venezuela.
After his hike, Bob's camper was rolled downhill to gain momentum for an engine-start. Adding to that a cancelled flight out of Phoenix, and his tardiness became a given.
Who does not appreciate these juicy gems? |
Edward Earl and I had driven, and not flown, from nearby San Diego. Air carriers servicing the San Diego - Los Angeles route were charging outrageous round-trip prices. Remarkably, it was cheaper to fly on Southwest Airlines via Phoenix, on a four-leg itinerary, than it was to fly on either American or United Airlines directly to and from Los Angeles! So we drove, parking in section B-52 of long-term lot "C" at Los Angeles International Airport. As a famous Air Force strategic bomber, "B-52" would serve as mnemonic for locating Edward's pickup upon our return.
Shlepping our duffle bags from the car, a pair of landing jetliners flew directly overhead. Their sound and fury excited me like a small child.
We had begun our journey - one which, unlike most vacations, featured the additional spice of an uncertain outcome!
Awaiting our flight, Edward schooled Bob in the ways of his computer program that automates calculation of mountain prominences. The prominence metric rewards mountains for having large vertical relief. Indeed, we were flying to Venezuela because Pico Bolivar enjoys much verticality.
In contrast to this enlighening technical discussion, I unceremoniously splattered juice over the airline gate's floor and furniture: my offering of whole, Texas ruby red grapefruit had fallen upon unwilling ears, and I was obliged to eat three of them over the day's journey. I had reasoned that we would be eating rehydrated, packaged meals for the six day climb, so that vitamin C - laden citrus would be our last taste of fresh food for the duration.
The overnight flight was uneventful. We each managed some two hours of interrupted, low quality sleep. The jetliner swung low over the Atlantic coast, reversed course, and greeted Miami in the pre-dawn hours.
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