The Phil Files

Donna and I left for a vacation to Alaska with our daughter, Megan. Megan graduated from college in December and will start physical therapy school in August. This was the trip she wanted for her graduation — actually, it’s something she’s wanted to do for a long, long time. So we saved our pennies and planned our trip.

The pictures show us at the start of our trip, after going through the security check — thanks folks for being patient with us and providing us bigger baggies for our “necessaries” for the trip! Megan is in the first one, with her doodle pad to pass the time — along with her sarcastic humor to keep us light. The second image is of Donna, who is thakfully keeping up with everything — since I am renown for leaving my passport or grabbing Zach’s passport on the eve of a trip out of the country requiring a break-neck trip home to fetch the correct documents! The final pic is of me, it seemed fitting to include along with the discussion of our flight from Abilene to Dallas and nausea.

Many months ago, I stayed up late working with a very accomodating American Airlines person who helped us use our frequent flyer miles to make the trip. While the flying was free, our flights were a little out of sync, but the connections were pretty good. We had one extra leg than usual — Abilene to Dallas, Dallas to Seattle, Seattle to Vancouver — and got off to a bit of a late start. It was mid-afternoon when we left, and hot. Once we got to Dallas, everything went smoothly on the flights.

The Abilene to Dallas flight, however, was a bit of an adventure. It was 93 degrees in Abilene when we boarded our old Saab prop job to Dallas — you know, the planes AA is discontinuing. The fuselage is about the size of a big sewer pipe and the temperature inside felt considerably hotter than it was outside. The plane was full, so the air was stuffy and soon pulsated with that odor of an atheletic locker room on Monday morning — you know, not full blown b.o., just a dampish odor that puts you a little on edge. I’ve flown into Africa, Thailand, Mexico, and South America in the summer — this plane was hotter than any I could remember.

“It will get cooler when we are in the air,” the flight attendant said. “Let’s keep those window covers down till we take off to minimize the heat.”

“Too late for that,” I thought. Once in the air, my instincts proved true. Flying no higher than 15,000 feet, the planes temp controls couldn’t make a dent in the oppressive heat. Everyone kept the window covers down and kept their tiny air vent, directing what little air that moved, pointed at himself. In fact, some folks just about wore out that little adjuster piece on the vents trying to will out more air flow.

Just about the time we felt we were going to make it with the heat — slurping down our Cokes, ginger ales, and waters — we hit turbulence. We’re not talking bumpy, we’re talking thump, bump, rock, roll, and pitch. With the heat, humidity, no one able to see outside, and the hard bouncing, instantaneously everyone shuffled through the emergency instructions and inflight magazines in the seat flap in front of them to locate the … well you know … the barf bag.

Talking stopped … everywhere on the plane. The flight attendant sat down and didn’t say a word. Everyone hung on — not to keep from bouncing around the cabin in the turbulence, but to keep the Coke, Ginger Ale, and water from bouncing into the barf bag. Fortunately, we all managed to maintain control of our own situations, because if one had lost it, well, I’m afraid it would have done everyone else in.

Never has an airport terminal been a place of such bliss! Cool air! Room to breathe! A place to walk! Yee-hah!

Our flights were all on time. All of our luggage made it. So as we stood in the cool waiting for the shuttle in Vancouver, exhausted but glad to be on our way, we were pretty much amped up to be in cool weather. Bleary-eyed? Of course — it was 4 a.m. Texas time before we got to bed. But we were out of the heat, started on our adventure, and were about to settle into comfortable beds in a beautiful city in Canada. We slept with our sliding door cracked open all snuggled up in our beds, saying prayers of thanks for safe travel and thinking to ourselves, “Thank you God for the beauty of the Northwest — the mountains, rivers, ocean, and the cool!”

When you are from Texas and you’ve already had 18 days of 90 plus degree heat in May, the cool of Canada and Alaska are more than a treat, they are a taste of heaven. And let me tell you, we are going to enjoy every taste of it!