Winter                                           Waxing Moon of  the Cold Month

The grumpy traveler has arrived in the mile-high city, which I discovered at the Denver Airport is actually 5,280 feet above sea level.  How about that?  I say grumpy because air travel wears at me with the death of a thousand cuts.

First, when I went online yesterday to print out boarding passes, I was met with the opportunity to pay a checked baggage fee.  Kate wanted to check a bag because, being the raving terrorist lunatic that she is, she wanted to bring a good pair of scissors for sewing.  $23 to transport those damned scissors.  As long we’re on it, where did a word like scissors come from anyhow?  That spelling.

Second, parking at the airport.  In  this case you get to choose between an intolerably long ride on Airport Shuttle, a tour of the Twin Cities, or trying to park a large pick-up, our Tundra, in a slot made for a compact car.  Our Celica.

So we’re at the airport.  I don’t have to tell you the small insults visited on us under the auspices of national security.  Good news?  No body scanners yet.

The plane itself.  The logistics of the human body and the number of seats you can cram in–the maximum–create a very cosy, one could even call it crammed ride.  And I had the four  year old behind me who spent most of the flight taking the tray table down and putting it back in place.  Often.  Not news, but a nuisance anyway.

Don’t ask me about getting the bag.  Remember Denver’s airport?  It was the one that opened two years late because they couldn’t get the luggage system working.

Finally, getting to your rental car.  Ah, the third lane out at ground transportation.  Finding or waiting for the express bus, ha, that takes you to your car.  At a site far enough away from the airport itself to be in Wyoming.  Afterward, the always entertaining sales pitches by the rental car clerk.  No.  I don’t want an SUV with snow tires.  No.  I don’t want to pay $20 a day to supplement (unnecessarily) my already too expensive car insurance.

But.  The woman who took the yellow sheet about the car’s condition was very nice and helpful.

And thus endeth this complaint about travel by air.