— 11:41 p.m.
Off to Canada...
I just got back Sunday from an awesome fishing adventure. I went with 4 friends that I used to work with, one of which I’ve known for 5 years, one for 7, and the other two for 9ish. Ooh, how odd.
The trip was from Denver to Lake Wignes, which is in the Northwest Territories (referred to after this as “the bush”)of Canada. My friend Joe picked me up at 5:30 am on July 29th, and we went to the airport. Joe parked in the overflow parking (almost all the way to New Mexico) at DIA, which compared to the covered parking is MUCH cheaper. It was a long walk to ticketing with a rod case, a backpack, and a 56lb suitcase.
Check in was fine, security was a breeze, and after breakfast at McDog-nuts, a smoke and a cocktail at 7:30 am, [don’t judge me, I was on vacation] we boarded the plane to Calgary, Alberta. Uneventful flight here too, but as soon as we got off the plane to go through customs, the entire airport had a blackout. The automatic door closed while I was walking through it and bangded me on my tender arm. Owwie, stupid door! The whole passenger complement then shuffled into this pseudo-dark hallway with closed doors that no one could open.
Honestly, I think we were in this hallway for no more than 10 minutes, and at the turn in the corridor behind us was a bank of windows. People started freaking out. “Oh, they don’t know we’re in here.” “I wonder if they’re coming to get us.” “They forgot to pay their electric bill!” Pussies. Hello? Are we in any danger? Some lady even pulled out her cell phone, called information for the number to the airport, then phoned the airport to tell them that we were stuck in a dark hallway. She hung up without even telling them which hallway or even section of the airport we were in. Brilliant.
Surprisingly, no one died in this close brush with death, and we went through customs without any hassles. Another beer and a short flight from there and we were in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Everything arrived but our rod cases, but they showed up later without incident.
When we arrived there, however, we found out that our two friends, Phil and Chad, who were flying through Minneapolis, had missed their flight. There were supposed to arrive an hour before we did. Chad called me a while later, which is when I found out that –no, there was no problem or delays with their flight – they had been sitting in a bar drinking and bullshitting, and had missed the plane. *hand slapping forehead*
I was, of course, very amused by my friends’ CRI (cranio-rectal inversion), because they’re my friends and I’m allowed to laugh long and hard at their misfortune. NOTE: there is a proper way to use ‘there’, ‘they’re’, and ‘their’. I can’t believe how much I rule!
Phil and Chad had a hard time in Minneapolis though. That is, after their lovely little jaunt to the Mall of America for new Clinique mascara. First, they had to buck up (pun intended) $100 to get a ticket for the next flight, which was supposed to leave around 6:30 that night. Something happened further east and the flight crew didn’t arrive. Fast forward 2 grueling hours later, the flight crew arrived and after a few more bullshit delays, everyone was seated and they were pulling out to the taxiway. A few rows behind the guys, some amateur who had been drinking all day vomits 15 gallons or so all over the seat and passenger in front of him. Back to the gate.
After calling and waiting for a clean up crew to come and mop up and kicking off Mr. Pukey-pants, the flight was ready to leave – no, for real this time. Another hour and a half wasted. Off to Saskatoon, and a 35 or so minute hassle in customs, they finally got to the hotel at 1am or so. They were supposed to arrive a full 12 hours earlier. The horror. The horror.
Curtis arrived the next day without incident, and the five of us boarded our charter flight to the booming Cree-tropolis of Stony Rapids, then took the twin-otter float plane to the lake. More in my next entry, I have to reduce the size of the photos a bit before I post them.
Type to you soon!