Surviving JFK
By Gus Kaeding
After a successful trip training and racing in Montana, it was time for me to head home to Vermont. I shoved off from my hotel and about 6:30am Monday where I’m told the temp was somewhere in the -20′s F. I had a full day of travel planned as my last flight didn’t get into Burlington until about 10pm. On my first flight I was lucky enough to hook up with the Green team (also headed home) and sat next to coach Pepa. We had a good chat but, unfortunately our travel plans diverged from there. I headed alone to JFK in New York. I remembered the airport as a bit confusing but this time was just ridiculous.
I stepped off the plane onto the B terminal and checked the monitors which did not include my flight and were zero help. I walked down the only hallway which abruptly ended. Confused, I turned around and found a sandwich stand (eating has been proven to cure many things including, but not exclusively, confusion.) I asked the cashier somewhat sheepishly, “uummm, are there other gates here?” She sighed and pointed at the large double doors which screamed “do not enter.” Well, enter I did and blindly stumbled to the main concourse and the A terminal. Surely my gate would be here right? Wrong. After another unsuccessful trip to the monitors and an hour of aimless wandering I decided I was in over my head. I swallowed my pride and approached two police officers and declared “I’m lost.” They said “what gate are you trying to find?” and I replied I didn’t know. They looked at me like I had “norom deifitrec” tattooed on my forehead and said very sarcastically, “well, do you want terminal A or B?” I answered I had no idea and handed over my boarding pass per their request. After conferring with each other for a second, they agreed my boarding pass made about as much sense AIG’s fiscal policy. They wondered aloud if Northwest even flew out of JFK. As they could be no more help they directed me to one of the red jacket ticket agents who are apparently the rough equivalent to the creator guy with all the tvs from The Matrix II. Feeling like Neo, minus the dorky powers but spouting off cool one liners, I followed their directions. I went backwards through security and found the man in the red jacket at the Northwest ticket counter. He punched up my ticket and told me to go back through security. Find Hank at B23, tell him Ted sent you. Get on the bus and travel to building 2. Walk 1 and 3/4s miles following the yellow arrows. Also, be careful to cover up any blue clothing as it is a sign of disrespect to the local gang. Then proceed to gate 23, “you can’t miss it.” Ok, I may have exaggerated slightly but you get the idea.
I arrived in Vermont without further incident. Mom came to pick me up but explained on the way out her car was in the shop and she had brought a rental. I gazed upon either the crappiest car or the sweetest golf cart ever. We loaded up and headed home. It had been snowing and the roads were very bad. Our “car” sucked. Unfortunately, we live on the top of a very large hill (akin to a big bump in the west or a large mountain in the midwest). After 3 unsuccessful runs at the hill (one in reverse) I was more determined than ever. I came around the corner at the bottom of the hill somewhere between fast and Dale Jr. coming off turn 2. Mom was less than thrilled. I got about halfway up until I got a little too cute using the shoulder to try kick up some dirt. I had been carefully riding the ditch, until of course I was not. In VT for less than an hour and had already ditched a car, good to be back! Not exactly being a stranger to the ditch I recognized we were gonna need help. Although it was nearing midnight I called up dad who was at home less than a mile away. I said to toss a chain in the truck and hurry down. Speed was important as I was hoping to avoid any ridicule from a neighbor out on a late drive. Dad navigated the ice from the top and slid down to where we waited. We chained up and he popped me out, no sweat. Just as I was de-chaining I noticed the familiar hum of a truck in the distance. I double timed it, jumped in the car, told mom to get off the road and took off down the hill just in time to see headlights coming down the phone lines from around the corner (a handy trick at night). I parked past the bottom of the hill and waved at the passing neighbor as I was obviously innocent of any vehicular indiscretions. Dad came down and picked me up (yes he had gotten mom too). We tossed my bags in the back and headed home just inside of midnight, welcome home Gus.
Fore!
Gettin 'r chained up
Good to be home!
