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yards ahead, we can already see Cutter’s “follow me” car and two minutes later, pull up to their ramp where our customers’ rental car is already parked close to the Lear’s passenger door, with the engine running, heater on and trunk door open. Five minutes later and their baggage has been loaded in the car, and they thank us profusely for such a nice flight. We put the covers on the engines and arrive at our hotel just 10 minutes later.
The next morning, I am to return via airline as the Lear will be staying in Phoenix for a couple of days and I am needed back home. And that is where the “fun” begins.
Dispatch has me scheduled to return on an airline 737 flight that leaves PHX at 10:50 and arrives in SEA nearly three hours later. I ask the hotel clerk what time I should board their shuttle to the airport in the morning. He proceeds to make some comments about freeway traffic and TSA lines then says I should be on the shuttle no later than 0800. I cannot help but think the time it will take me just to get through the airport will be longer than our entire flight down from Seattle in the Lear.
I get up at 0600, eat the free hotel break- fast and board the shuttle as instructed at 0800. The TSA line was actually not too bad as it took only 25 minutes to get through, but then, of course, there was the business of putting my shoes and belt back on while repacking my case with items removed for closer inspection. Finally, I am ‘in’ and wind up walking about a half- mile to the assigned gate. Once there, I note there has been some seat assignment snafu, and I ask the gate agent if she can move me to a better seat, or perhaps up- grade me to first class. Not a chance she replies – the flight is overbooked already. So, I look around to find an empty place
to sit and wait, only to find the uphol- stery on near every seat is torn or cracked with the dirty foam pad cushion showing through. Even in the days of my youth taking trips via Greyhound bus (and ap- propriately called “riding the dog”) do I have memories of public travel facilities being so poorly maintained.
Finally, boarding time arrives with a line of more than 180 people jostling for position, as if boarding first will somehow result in arriving earlier. I make my way to the assigned middle seat way in the back, only to find it is between two large, well- fed individuals who are very reluctant to get up and let me in. With some difficulty, I squeeze pass protruding knees into my allowed 17 inches of narrow seat space and put my small bag under the seat in front of me with the overhead being full. The passenger to the right says nothing but promptly pulls the window shade down to better see his computer. The one by the aisle on my left immediately returns to a loud personal phone call that my ar- rival interrupted. Both seem to regard the armrests separating us as their personal real estate with absolutely no trespassing allowed. I keep my elbows tight to the chest and try not to breathe too deeply.
As the 737 loads, the cabin gets warmer and warmer, with the smell of hot humanity becoming much more
pervasive – sort of like a gym locker room. Finally, after every single seat is occupied, and all the luggage overheads brim with stuff that really should have gone in the hold below, the airplane is pushed back and taxis out. I can see through one of the few windows that is open that there is a line of Boeing and Airbus products at least nine airplanes long waiting in the line for takeoff. Eventually, we work our way up to the front of the line, and now clearly late for the departure, get airborne. The airplane climbs into the mid-30s, and for the next hour the seat belt sign stays on due to a continuous light chop. The cabin attendants stay put, strapped into their seats. Finally, when we get up near the Oregon border somewhere, they hurry by pushing heavy carts, smiling as best as they can and offering free pop and water, but beer and wine are at high-end downtown Seattle restaurant prices.
Soon, I hear the power come back, and we start a descent into the Seattle area. Unfortunately, SEA appears to be run- ning their traffic to the south, so the 737 winds up well to the north of Paine Field (PAE), before finally turning around and connecting with the ILS into Runway 16. The landing leaves no doubt the air- plane is on the ground, and with hard braking and a lot of noisy reverse thrust, the airplane hurriedly makes one of the mid-runway exits and proceeds to the ramp. But then, as we approach our gate, it appears it is not yet ready, so we sit there for another 10 minutes while ramp guys in small trucks hustle about clearing the space. When the airplane pulls up to the stop line and the seat belt sign is turned off, all 181 people onboard seem to stand up at once, as if doing so will somehow expedite disembarkation and get them home earlier. This, of course, does not help at all and another 20 minutes go by while people anxiously chase down their
February 2019
TWIN & TURBINE • 17