There were some bumps with this past weekend’s travel plans.

Not really bumps, as much as never-ending chasms of despair I could not escape from no matter how hard I climbed.

I was crewed to work Temple vs. Buffalo, which ended with an unbelievable reception, for ESPN Plus. Crew call was set for 5:00am on Saturday. The trip was supposed to take me just a few hours Friday night; from Indianapolis to Buffalo via Washington, D.C. And it did work out, to a certain extent.

The following is a detailed account of the trip.

 

It’s always tricky to make freelance gigs work with a full-time job. Occassionally you have to use vacation days to work or turn down gigs so you can work other jobs later. I try to take evening flights so I only have to use 4 hours of vacation or comp time. Usually this all works out fine- though I have had a few close calls.

Those close calls would be nothing compared to Friday, September 12.

I arrived at Indianapolis International Airport at 5:20pm. Security was a breeze, except for the guy checking IDs. He must have looked at my passport for a full 2 minutes, while the woman next to him had already let 3 people go through.

Finally I made my way through to the US Airways gate. Concourse D doesn’t have much for a traveler; a crappy Dick Clark’s American Bandstand restaurant and a coffee/pastry cart don’t really pass for sustinance. I grabbed a cookie and a water and sat down to finish e-mails and some work before the next day’s show.

US3228 left Indianapolis nearly on-time- only 5 minutes late. The captain and first officer assured us it wouldn’t affect our arrival time.

Sure enough, they were right. We landed at Reagan National Airport 15 minutes early.

“Fantastic,” I said under my breath.

We taxied past every gate at the airport, and then came to a stop at the end of the terminal. That’s when the engines shut down. Apparently I spoke too soon. The pilot came on the loudspeaker.

“Folks, we’ve turned off the engines. There’s another plane at our gate, apparently weather out west is preventing them from taking off. They assure us they’ll be underway in a few minutes and we can taxi to the gate.”

“‘A few minutes?’ Well, at least we landed 15 minutes early,” said the passenger next to me.

15 minutes go by. It’s 8:30pm. We were supposed to be at the gate right now. My connection to Buffalo leaves at 9:05pm.

The captain comes back on, “Folks, they’re just finishing boarding. I know a lot of you have some tight connections, we should be heading to the gate shortly.”

Another 10 minutes go by. Nothing.

Finally at 8:50pm the engines start back up.

This time the flight attendant gets on the loudspeaker, “We’ve been cleared to proceed to the gate, once we arrive we ask that if DCA is your final destination you remain seated so those catching connections can leave the plane immediately.”

We park at the gate at 9:00pm. As we run off the plane, a worker tells us to go out to the tarmac where they have buses waiting for us to take us to our gates.

9:01pm- I board the bus.

9:02pm- I’m still sitting on the bus.

9:03pm- The bus starts up and we head across the tarmac to another terminal.

9:04pm- They let us off the bus. I run up the stairs and get to Gate 42. The plane is still sitting at the end of the jetway. But there’s not gate agent and the door is closed.

“Can we still get on 1712?” I shout to the ticketing agent across the terminal.

“No, that flight has already departed.”

I can see the plane right out the window, but I’m not going to argue- even though the jetway hadn’t been pulled back yet. There were 6 of us waiting for that flight, I’m sure they don’t want to put all of us up in hotels for the night.

Apparently they did.

It’s 9:10pm Friday. I’m in Washington, D.C. I have to be in Buffalo. I have until 5:00am Saturday.

“I have to be in Buffalo by 5:00am tomorrow for ESPN,” I find dropping that name sometimes greases the wheels, “what other flights do you have to Buffalo or anywhere close I could drive from?”

The ticketing agents, in all of his slowness, tells me, “Well, there’s a flight to Syracuse- nope that one’s leaving now.

“Ummm, there’s a flight to Albany- well, that one already departed.

“The next thing I have would get you in to Buffalo-Niagra at 10:15am tomorrow.”

Apparently he didn’t hear me say, “I have to be there by 5:00am.”

Or maybe he thought that meant, “I would really like to be there at 5:00am, but there’s no reason I would have to be, it’s just a random time I picked out of the blue.”

I immediately realize the futility of continuing and call the ESPN emergency travel number.

My call is answered almost immediately. I tell the representative my issues and what I need. With a sigh of relief she says, “There’s a 10:30 on United,” I was relieved, too. Then she added, “wait, that’s a Dulles.”

It’s now 9:20pm. I ask my fellow passengers how long it would take to get to Dulles in a cab. The general consensus is between 30 and 40 minutes.

“Okay, get me a ticket on that flight,” I tell the very helpful voice on the other end of the phone.

She responds, with a little disbelief, “Alright, I have you ticketed on United from Dulles to Buffalo. You’ll need to see the US Airways agent to get some paperwork.”

Great, I get to deal with that guy again. Other people have stepped in now, complaining about missing flights and what they’re going to do. After waiting for a few minutes, I decide I’ve got to hit the road. I make my way for the exit and a cab, with a quick stop at the ticketing desk at the front of the airport.

There are two agents, each assisting other customers. I wait at the back of the line, but with a very urgent look on my face. Finally one of them wraps up, as I walk up to the desk I’m greeted by, “We’re closed, sir.”

What. The. Hell.

“But I just need to get-” I get cut off mid-sentence.

“Sir, we’re closed,” she tells me again.

Fine. I take off down the stairs. Furious with US Airways and their terrible customer service. First a gate agent who doesn’t move fast enough to be in the train industry, much less the airline industry. Then a ticketing agent who sees me waiting, but doesn’t tell me they’re closed until I’ve waited 5 minutes.

It’s now 9:40pm. I run outside to the ground transportation area. There are buses to rental cars and taxis. I ask a cab driver, “How long would it take to get to Dulles?”

“Dulles? Why Dulles?” I don’t respond. “Well, about 40 minutes,” he tells me.

At least the people inside ballparked it right. But not I won’t even get to the airport until 10:20pm, and there’s no way I’ll get my ticket and get through security in time.

I hop on the bus to go to the rental cars and call @mmagnolia22. “Go to Google and get directions from DCA to BUF.”

“It says 7 1/2 hours,” she tells me.

“Okay, thanks.” I hang up and call travel again.

“I need a rental car from Reagan National to Buffalo-Niagra. One-way,” this is going to be expensive for them.

“Okay. I’ve got the reservation in, can you drop the car off at 9:00am on Saturday?”

I quickly respond, “No, I can’t do that. Our crew call is at 5:00am and I’ve got a 5:01pm flight out of that airport. Can’t I just keep the car?”

“Oh, I see that now,” she sounds quite surprised, as I believe she just realized what I was about to do. “You’re all taken care of Mr. Keever.”

Fantastic. It’s 9:45pm. I’m in Washington, D.C. And I have a rental car.

The rest of the story comes tomorrow…