ChiefsPlanet - View Single Post - Chiefs Trip Report: Experience of a Lifetime!

frozenchief · 01-21-2020, 11:44 PM

I posted this in the game thread, but I had a trip of a lifetime as well.

When KC started coming back against the Texans, I knew we had Mahomes and hope started growing like flames fanned by the wind. When it got to be 24-21, I said to my son, “If KC wins this, we have to go to the championship.” He thought I was kidding, but I bought tickets from Anchorage to KC.

We flew from Anchorage to Seattle on a red-eye. I don’t like red-eyes because I’m too old to sleep on a plane, but it worked. We got on the plane to MCI and about ½ the people had KC gear. I frequently fly AK Air and so I was in first class, enjoying my mimosa and watching movies when the pilot says that the KC airport is shut down and we have to turn back. I’ve flown a lot and have never had to turn back because of weather. Mechanical, yes. Someone ill on the plane, yes. But never weather.

We land in Seattle and I call the airlines to re-schedule. they tell me we are re-set for Saturday. I get a hotel for the night and grab our luggage. I am in Seattle a lot and I know where to stay and eat, etc. Figured it would be a slight hiccup and we would just be in on Saturday instead of Friday. But, I am scheduled to fly on Saturday morning. Turns out my son is set to fly on Sunday. That doesn’t work.

No other flights to KC. None via travelocity. None via Kayak. None via SW air, which doesn’t partner with anybody. I’m talking with Alaska Air. I’ve been 75K Gold for the past 6 years and they take care of me but there’s just no flights. None to KC, Omaha, Wichita, St. Louis or Denver. None through partners. I’m starting to sweat, wondering if we would actually get there. I finally find a red-eye through Chicago. I never fly Chicago in the winter, but there’s no option. I go to Omaha through Chicago.

But I learn that flights to Chicago on Friday have been cancelled because of weather. I’m set to travel over night and land Saturday morning, so I hope it will be different. Everybody on American is telling me to cross my fingers. But since its American and I don’t fly them, they won’t work so hard to upgrade me or re-route me. But the flight boards on time and takes off on time. Apparently, people Outside get cold in the winter so the flight is the hottest I’ve ever been on. I sleep fitfully, waking almost drenched in sweat because the interior of the plane would roast a turkey.

The in-flight WiFi says that we are on time and my connecting flight is on time. The incoming flight that becomes my connecting flight is from Kalamazoo and should land about 6:15, plenty of time to connect to my 7:30 to Omaha. But about 1 hour outside Chicago, I see that flight is delayed. Then delayed more. Then cancelled. WTF?!? I panic, wondering if I will land in Chicago only to find no flights to Omaha. There is one late in the day, but I’ve got family to meet and BBQ to eat. I don’t want a late flight.

We land and the monitors shows that the flight from Kalamazoo is cancelled but my flight is on time. We get to the gate and get on the plane, only to see the plane is covered in ice. All of those episodes of ‘Airline Disasters’ that I watched on Smithsonian flash through my head. I wonder if this is the flight where Chicago doesn’t de-ice. But I don’t care. My son doesn’t care. There’s a Chiefs game to go to.

We get in our seats and a whole group of Indians board the plane. Among their group is a 4 year old brat. He petulantly yells in Hindi, probably that he doesn’t want to go. He’s screaming and kicking and writhing against the restraints of his mother’s hands. Of course, he winds up in the row immediately behind us. Sitting with him is an aunt. at least, I think she’s an aunt. She’s about 20. She’s Indian. And every time she moves, there is the miasma of horrific BO. Strong, pungent, and laced with scents of Indian curry covering rotten meat, its strong enough to cut through steel I-beams. Off course, she sits immediately behind us as well.

My son and I are still recovering from the oven of a flight from Seattle, so we are glad that this flight has fans that produce a lot of air. But with the BO wafting over us at irregular intervals and causing us to break out in rashes, we aim the fans to the back to hopefully head the BO to the back to the plane.

The little shitbird keeps making noise, getting out of his seat and running up and down the aisles. His mom tries to stop him. His aunt tries to appease him. The flight attendant tries to bribe him, saying that if he doesn’t get into his seat, the plane cant go. The little shit doesn’t care. I ask Lyn if I should do something and he begs me not to. Finally, the kid gets belted into his seat and the plane turns to taxi in the gray, dismal Chicago rain.

We soon ascend above the clouds to a day enhanced by snow. The lighter turbo-prop buckles in the wind more than a heavier 737. The turbulence and the eye-watering BO conspire to keep us awake and we finally land in Omaha.

Our bag is drenched from the rain and snow from Chicago, but it arrives. We grab a Jeep Cherokee that the rental car guy swears has 4WD. We look and look and look, but we cannot find the 4WD. We are told the roads are covered in ice and there’s only about 200 miles to go to KC. Fortunately, the roads have not been in cold weather, so the ground has not really frozen. This means that most of the snow and ice has either melted or turned to slush/water. As we start down the road, my son looks at me and says, “We are going to make this game. WE really are going to make it. I didn’t think we would, but we will.”

And we did. We hit KC and take a nap. We go to Q39 and meet my aunt and uncle and cousin and his wife for dinner. After dinner, we hit a bar and chill for a couple of hours before getting to bed around 1:00.

I wake early because I can’t stay asleep. Seeing lines at Arrowhead, I roust my son and we head out early. Despite my best efforts, we wind up on the ass-end of Arrowhead parking and I promise to either get a better parking pass or a Z-trip in the future. We look for CPers tailgating and we wind up with Lzen. He and his wife welcomes us with open and we meet his friends. We enjoy biscuits and gravy and eggs and bacon and donuts and cupcakes and beer and whisky and are quite ready for the game to begin.

The game goes as well, if not better, than we hoped. We are on club level right above where the Chiefs take the field. My son looks down and tells me excitedly, “Dad! There’s Travis Kielce! He’s like, right there!” I beam with pride. The game goes well for us. People around us ask why we aren’t wearing gloves or warm hats or boots and we explain how we are from Alaska and it hasn’t hit 0 for the last few weeks, so temperatures about 18-20 aren’t really “cold” but are more “chilly.” The ladies behind us are from Texas and say they’ve never experienced weather this cold. My son and I laugh and admit we do not handle heat well.

You know how the game turns out. We start to watch the award presentations but my son asks if we can go to get out the stadium, so we take off. We catch a steak with my aunt and uncle and get back to our hotel about 11:00. The lights are out in our room. My ears still ring from the roar of the crowd at Arrowhead. I’m pondering how this was a great day.

“Dad?” I hear my son say from his bed across the room.

“Yeah?”

“This was a great day. This was one of the favorite days of my life. Thank you.”

I pause for a couple of seconds. “You’re welcome. It was one of my favorite days of my own life as well. Thanks for coming with me.” And I drifted off to sleep.

01-21-2020, 11:44 PM	#37
frozenchief Cynical Misanthrope frozenchief's Avatar Join Date: Apr 2013 Location: Alaska	I posted this in the game thread, but I had a trip of a lifetime as well. When KC started coming back against the Texans, I knew we had Mahomes and hope started growing like flames fanned by the wind. When it got to be 24-21, I said to my son, “If KC wins this, we have to go to the championship.” He thought I was kidding, but I bought tickets from Anchorage to KC. We flew from Anchorage to Seattle on a red-eye. I don’t like red-eyes because I’m too old to sleep on a plane, but it worked. We got on the plane to MCI and about ½ the people had KC gear. I frequently fly AK Air and so I was in first class, enjoying my mimosa and watching movies when the pilot says that the KC airport is shut down and we have to turn back. I’ve flown a lot and have never had to turn back because of weather. Mechanical, yes. Someone ill on the plane, yes. But never weather. We land in Seattle and I call the airlines to re-schedule. they tell me we are re-set for Saturday. I get a hotel for the night and grab our luggage. I am in Seattle a lot and I know where to stay and eat, etc. Figured it would be a slight hiccup and we would just be in on Saturday instead of Friday. But, I am scheduled to fly on Saturday morning. Turns out my son is set to fly on Sunday. That doesn’t work. No other flights to KC. None via travelocity. None via Kayak. None via SW air, which doesn’t partner with anybody. I’m talking with Alaska Air. I’ve been 75K Gold for the past 6 years and they take care of me but there’s just no flights. None to KC, Omaha, Wichita, St. Louis or Denver. None through partners. I’m starting to sweat, wondering if we would actually get there. I finally find a red-eye through Chicago. I never fly Chicago in the winter, but there’s no option. I go to Omaha through Chicago. But I learn that flights to Chicago on Friday have been cancelled because of weather. I’m set to travel over night and land Saturday morning, so I hope it will be different. Everybody on American is telling me to cross my fingers. But since its American and I don’t fly them, they won’t work so hard to upgrade me or re-route me. But the flight boards on time and takes off on time. Apparently, people Outside get cold in the winter so the flight is the hottest I’ve ever been on. I sleep fitfully, waking almost drenched in sweat because the interior of the plane would roast a turkey. The in-flight WiFi says that we are on time and my connecting flight is on time. The incoming flight that becomes my connecting flight is from Kalamazoo and should land about 6:15, plenty of time to connect to my 7:30 to Omaha. But about 1 hour outside Chicago, I see that flight is delayed. Then delayed more. Then cancelled. WTF?!? I panic, wondering if I will land in Chicago only to find no flights to Omaha. There is one late in the day, but I’ve got family to meet and BBQ to eat. I don’t want a late flight. We land and the monitors shows that the flight from Kalamazoo is cancelled but my flight is on time. We get to the gate and get on the plane, only to see the plane is covered in ice. All of those episodes of ‘Airline Disasters’ that I watched on Smithsonian flash through my head. I wonder if this is the flight where Chicago doesn’t de-ice. But I don’t care. My son doesn’t care. There’s a Chiefs game to go to. We get in our seats and a whole group of Indians board the plane. Among their group is a 4 year old brat. He petulantly yells in Hindi, probably that he doesn’t want to go. He’s screaming and kicking and writhing against the restraints of his mother’s hands. Of course, he winds up in the row immediately behind us. Sitting with him is an aunt. at least, I think she’s an aunt. She’s about 20. She’s Indian. And every time she moves, there is the miasma of horrific BO. Strong, pungent, and laced with scents of Indian curry covering rotten meat, its strong enough to cut through steel I-beams. Off course, she sits immediately behind us as well. My son and I are still recovering from the oven of a flight from Seattle, so we are glad that this flight has fans that produce a lot of air. But with the BO wafting over us at irregular intervals and causing us to break out in rashes, we aim the fans to the back to hopefully head the BO to the back to the plane. The little shitbird keeps making noise, getting out of his seat and running up and down the aisles. His mom tries to stop him. His aunt tries to appease him. The flight attendant tries to bribe him, saying that if he doesn’t get into his seat, the plane cant go. The little shit doesn’t care. I ask Lyn if I should do something and he begs me not to. Finally, the kid gets belted into his seat and the plane turns to taxi in the gray, dismal Chicago rain. We soon ascend above the clouds to a day enhanced by snow. The lighter turbo-prop buckles in the wind more than a heavier 737. The turbulence and the eye-watering BO conspire to keep us awake and we finally land in Omaha. Our bag is drenched from the rain and snow from Chicago, but it arrives. We grab a Jeep Cherokee that the rental car guy swears has 4WD. We look and look and look, but we cannot find the 4WD. We are told the roads are covered in ice and there’s only about 200 miles to go to KC. Fortunately, the roads have not been in cold weather, so the ground has not really frozen. This means that most of the snow and ice has either melted or turned to slush/water. As we start down the road, my son looks at me and says, “We are going to make this game. WE really are going to make it. I didn’t think we would, but we will.” And we did. We hit KC and take a nap. We go to Q39 and meet my aunt and uncle and cousin and his wife for dinner. After dinner, we hit a bar and chill for a couple of hours before getting to bed around 1:00. I wake early because I can’t stay asleep. Seeing lines at Arrowhead, I roust my son and we head out early. Despite my best efforts, we wind up on the ass-end of Arrowhead parking and I promise to either get a better parking pass or a Z-trip in the future. We look for CPers tailgating and we wind up with Lzen. He and his wife welcomes us with open and we meet his friends. We enjoy biscuits and gravy and eggs and bacon and donuts and cupcakes and beer and whisky and are quite ready for the game to begin. The game goes as well, if not better, than we hoped. We are on club level right above where the Chiefs take the field. My son looks down and tells me excitedly, “Dad! There’s Travis Kielce! He’s like, right there!” I beam with pride. The game goes well for us. People around us ask why we aren’t wearing gloves or warm hats or boots and we explain how we are from Alaska and it hasn’t hit 0 for the last few weeks, so temperatures about 18-20 aren’t really “cold” but are more “chilly.” The ladies behind us are from Texas and say they’ve never experienced weather this cold. My son and I laugh and admit we do not handle heat well. You know how the game turns out. We start to watch the award presentations but my son asks if we can go to get out the stadium, so we take off. We catch a steak with my aunt and uncle and get back to our hotel about 11:00. The lights are out in our room. My ears still ring from the roar of the crowd at Arrowhead. I’m pondering how this was a great day. “Dad?” I hear my son say from his bed across the room. “Yeah?” “This was a great day. This was one of the favorite days of my life. Thank you.” I pause for a couple of seconds. “You’re welcome. It was one of my favorite days of my own life as well. Thanks for coming with me.” And I drifted off to sleep.
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