Commune Life

 

The van with a name when it’s not living with me lives with other RV’s in a RV  covered, gated, commune. Its mostly RV’s with the occasional boat or old car mixed in.

Not Bad For A  Old Car

Since there wasn’t much to do at home, well except count snowflakes, and blow the ones that fall on my driveway into the neighbor’s yard, I decided to go pay the van a visit.

My very best traveling compadre decided to come with me, so on a cold and snowy full moon morning we got a ride to the local airport named for a accused felon, walked right in, stepped right up to the high-class checkpoint, and got checked in by probably the least friendliest AK agent ever. I should have know something was up when I noticed her nametag was from the DMV.

Morning At The ted

The TSA theater was on top of its game this morning, and I was pleased to know that my hip had returned to my leg and was no longer in my shoulder like the last time when my shoulder was patted down?????

My traveling compadre did not fare as well at the TSA as she failed to notice that her bording pass didn’t include the Pre-Check, check. And she was subject to screening with the masses, who if are lucky can defend themselves with one of their shoes while the agent  tries to beat them with their belt.

The coffee and pancakes in the “Lounge” more than made up for the cruelties we suffered getting to this point of the flight.

One Push Of The Button And Two Pancakes Are Cooked For You

And my compadre was able to after much button pushing, and  AK web site exploring was able to restore her pre check status, after clearing the screening.

No boxes of water awaited us at our seats, but we were treated to glasses of fresh squeezed juice of your choosing. I opted for Orange on ice. The breakfast was excellent, well the croissant was a little dry, but I still give it high marks. It was surprising that no snacks were offered.

A quick N-C shuffle, and then a nice wait in the for me newly remodeled C terminal lounge, that offered all the snacks that the plane lacked.

It wasn’t long before we were walking outside in the howling wind to one of my least favorite planes the Embalmer 175. Once settled in we were informed that our flight to GEG was going to be turbulent. It could be very turbulent, there would be no service because of the turbulence, and if you needed to use the washroom you were doing so at your own risk, and it would really be better if everyone sat down shut up and enjoyed the short hop.

The hop with the exception of a couple of bumps was probably one of the smother flights I have ever had on the embalmer into GEG. We still didn’t get anything to drink.

The baggage arrived promptly on probably the noisiest baggage carrousel of any airport, and soon we were whisked away for an exciting evening at the lavish Peacock Lounge.

The next day the van with a name started with a jump, and so we took it for a little spin, filled up the propane tank and the van started on its own, which must mean the battery is in good shape.

Later in the day it was discovered that I do not function very well with a 105 fever. In fact, I don’t function at all. Fortunately, my health care team repeatedly  tested me for the dreaded covid virus but my negative attitude kept the beast at bay.

On the second night the fever broke  and it was determined that we would all stay another day because we hadn’t had a Chile Relleno  from Atilano’s, and this was a excellent idea except it would put me in the path of the storm of the century….