IAD-EWR-ORD commentary, 3/5/05
Mar 8, 2005, 5:31 pm
#1
Original Poster
Join Date: Oct 2004
Location: Palo Alto. Previously, below the approaches to Rwy 19 @ DCA or 28 @ ORD
Programs: UA 1K 0.8MM, AA EXP
Posts: 1,768
IAD-EWR-ORD commentary, 3/5/05
C12, IAD 3.5.2005, 0600EST
The alarm sounds its shrill call at 0344. Although only fueled with 210 minutes of sleep, I feel terribly ready. Despite the hour, voices of those who have still not slept persist outside.
Within 16 minutes, I am walking out the door. I have gotten up (the hardest part!), clothed myself, brushed my teeth, packed my toothbrush (etc), made my bed, conducted a final scan of the room. It is 0400, and I walk confidently, shoulders back and great smile within, out the room and into the world. Down the hallway, down the elevator, up to Georgetown’s Front Gates.
The Super Shuttle has already arrived, and as I walk up a minute after the appointed pick-up time of 0405, I am greeted by the driver. I board the bus, and there are 2 other pax already aboard; we vegetate to smooth jazz, one oh five point nahine! Twenty minutes later and with an 86% load factor, we pull out and head west, just down Reservoir a little to make it a perfect 7/7. She is a young woman, perhaps wondering why six students share her 0430 ride.
We arrive at the herculean Main Terminal at 0510. Our path has taken us over the Chain Bridge and then through Virginia to the Dulles Parkway. The port windows of row three, E-, were perpetually fogged, and the monumental Stars and Stripes at IAD’s entrance passed unappreciated and unsaluted by me. There is a terrific rush already; we briefly become ensnarled in triple-parkers. I proceed past many rows of EasyChickens, decide against further efforts to locate the Premier section, and walk up to an agent. My request for standby onto UA 7968, IAD-EWR, 0705-0813 encounters no resistance, as expected; however, the agent struggles with the stubborn system for several minutes, and she must print thrice my BPs and twice my luggage routing tags. Security is no problem, for as I hand my BP wallet to Mr. TSA after walking through the metal detector, he says, with a touch of disappointment at discovering my documents to be SSSS-free, “Enjoy your flight, sir.” Huah, sir!
One mobile-lounge ride the wiser, I again appraise concourse C. No activity, but the Starbucks is open; I surrender to the beheamoth. “Final boarding call…United 891 to Los Angeles…immediate boarding and departure.” What a reassuring buzz!
And so, patient pad, you are hereby acquainted with my movements of the morning. The appointed hour of my departure is but 15 minutes into the future, and despite the anticipated hour-long crew delay, I feel prudence calling me to relocate to C16. – 0652
6A, UA 643 A320, 1500EST
From the comfort of seat 6A, “almost as nice as first class” according to that wisest of sages, SeatGuru, I continue. I was very lucky to have finished my writing at IAD at 0652, for no more than a minute after taking out my headphones and just seconds after I’d begun slowly towards C16, I hear: “Final call…paging Mr. Ua_to_ord!”
As the final and seventh passenger to board the ER4, I decided to forgo my assigned 6A and instead occupy 4C and D. Excellent choice it proved to be, for after our takeoff roll down 30 (itself highly spectacular; I’ve never experienced the tiny ER4 push so hard – rotation began at 17 or so seconds!)… well, anyways, moments after barreling down 30, we turn to a heading of 090, and this course takes our 10 souls just north of the District. Landmarks were readily recognizable, and in the brief seconds before our captain corrected our course to avoid overflying the Federal buildings, I noted Georgetown (and, in particular, the relatively large and green Kehoe Field), the Capital, and DCA’s triangular runway configuration. Cutting into the clouds soon after our correction to a c.045 heading, I was wholly at peace.
Flying to EWR was pleasant. I ordered an orange juice and Lipton tea, but soon the FA reappeared sans tea, apologized, and brought back a second juice. Arrival was on 4R, affording me a minute or two to enjoy the Manhattan island skyline before touchdown.
Again on terra firma, I proceeded to the AirTrain and then onward to Penn Station. The NJ line train was delayed 20 minutes, although I spent my half hour on the platform pleasantly listening to my mp3s and talking on the cell. Once I arrived at that crossroads of humanity, I navigated to the E line, riding to 53rd and 3rd, the Lexington stop.
Before handling my business (it should be clarified that I was to pick up a parcel for my friend from her East Midtown apartment), I was determined to fuel myself. I needed both glucose and an eye-opening drug; a hot ham and cheese roll and coffee filled the requirements. I dined at Au Bon Pain, spending just $8 but gaining at least a two-fold amount in happiness and satisfaction. After the wonderful culinary experience, I had a very good social one, that being a nice chat with a fellow FTer (I only know his real name; his handle escapes me) on the phone. A quick wash of the hands, and I proceeded towards the apartment.
I felt a sense of fulfilment as I stepped decisively into the lobby. My promise was to be kept, for I had at last arrived at the designated address. The elevator operator, well-dressed, piloted us up to floor 8, though the odds for successful completion of my assignment turned ominous when two attempts at calling the apartment failed to rouse even the machine. Two knocks and an equal number of rings later, all under the watchful eye of that most omniscient of patriarchs, and I was forced to retreat to the lobby. A call to my friend, and it was decided that the campaign was lost.
Certainly disappointed, though likewise satisfied that all options had been exercised, I set my sights at downtown. I summoned my roommate to my cell’s earpiece, and our rendevous point was set – Canal St.
And what a place that was! Crowds overflowing from the sidewalks; languages galore; pedlers a plenty. Everything was on sale, provided it was useless – cell phone holders, cheap watches, obnoxious belts, sorry jewelry. I toyed with the idea of owning my own “Patek Philippe,” however my 3 lowball bids brought only sudden anger to the countenances of my foes in business.
Determined to resist the materialistic temptation all around, I proceeded to the far-off, then merely detached, and finally close-by Golden Arches, the one with “Three floors of seating!,” and yes! – there he was! Our co-occupation of the same, diminutive unit in this universe was terribly short-lived, however, as that relentless foe tracked most expertly in Geneva imposed most harshly today, when my agenda is full to the brim. Back to 34th, down to 33rd, in to Penn, down to NJ line, over to ticket machine, in with $11.55, further down to Track 2, in to Train 74xx with a minute to spare. It is wonderful when everything works!
Filled with new experiences, I thus returned very satiated to EWR. But what was that that I heard on the train? It couldn’t have been, but just in case, I remove my left earphone and listen. A decipherable foreign language! Przepraszam, czy mowisz po Polsku?
@ EWR with 50 minutes until pushback, I decide to dart into a TGIFridays. I am seated next to large windows overlooking the airfield, but pressed for time, I examine the menu before allowing myself to savor the feast outside. My first surprise, the pleasantly reasonable (normal, non-airport) prices, is quickly offset by a great annoyance, the alarmingly slow service. Once I finally flag a waiter down, I order a chicken caesar salad, but clearly make the order contingent on its arrival within five minutes. Yes, sir, of course. Two minutes later, literally, my food is here; even more surprisingly, it is fresh and the chicken is hot off the grill – what an example of terrible service shamed into excellence!
And so I am again on par in the recording of my experiences. For future reference, let it be known that row 6 on the medium Airbeeses is worlds over standard bulkhead quality; this is certainly a no-brainer choice. The screen is even comfortably-enough forward to allow for easy viewing, and, of course, there are generous floor cutouts.
Now I believe some Economist is in order, and soon thereafter, approach chatter shall begin; I can’t wait! I am pleased to have written what seems to be a copious report, and I hope it has been as enjoyable to read as it was thrilling to experience…
Fondly from flight, currently over the greatest of Great Lakes,
Ua_to_ord 1608EST
The alarm sounds its shrill call at 0344. Although only fueled with 210 minutes of sleep, I feel terribly ready. Despite the hour, voices of those who have still not slept persist outside.
Within 16 minutes, I am walking out the door. I have gotten up (the hardest part!), clothed myself, brushed my teeth, packed my toothbrush (etc), made my bed, conducted a final scan of the room. It is 0400, and I walk confidently, shoulders back and great smile within, out the room and into the world. Down the hallway, down the elevator, up to Georgetown’s Front Gates.
The Super Shuttle has already arrived, and as I walk up a minute after the appointed pick-up time of 0405, I am greeted by the driver. I board the bus, and there are 2 other pax already aboard; we vegetate to smooth jazz, one oh five point nahine! Twenty minutes later and with an 86% load factor, we pull out and head west, just down Reservoir a little to make it a perfect 7/7. She is a young woman, perhaps wondering why six students share her 0430 ride.
We arrive at the herculean Main Terminal at 0510. Our path has taken us over the Chain Bridge and then through Virginia to the Dulles Parkway. The port windows of row three, E-, were perpetually fogged, and the monumental Stars and Stripes at IAD’s entrance passed unappreciated and unsaluted by me. There is a terrific rush already; we briefly become ensnarled in triple-parkers. I proceed past many rows of EasyChickens, decide against further efforts to locate the Premier section, and walk up to an agent. My request for standby onto UA 7968, IAD-EWR, 0705-0813 encounters no resistance, as expected; however, the agent struggles with the stubborn system for several minutes, and she must print thrice my BPs and twice my luggage routing tags. Security is no problem, for as I hand my BP wallet to Mr. TSA after walking through the metal detector, he says, with a touch of disappointment at discovering my documents to be SSSS-free, “Enjoy your flight, sir.” Huah, sir!
One mobile-lounge ride the wiser, I again appraise concourse C. No activity, but the Starbucks is open; I surrender to the beheamoth. “Final boarding call…United 891 to Los Angeles…immediate boarding and departure.” What a reassuring buzz!
And so, patient pad, you are hereby acquainted with my movements of the morning. The appointed hour of my departure is but 15 minutes into the future, and despite the anticipated hour-long crew delay, I feel prudence calling me to relocate to C16. – 0652
6A, UA 643 A320, 1500EST
From the comfort of seat 6A, “almost as nice as first class” according to that wisest of sages, SeatGuru, I continue. I was very lucky to have finished my writing at IAD at 0652, for no more than a minute after taking out my headphones and just seconds after I’d begun slowly towards C16, I hear: “Final call…paging Mr. Ua_to_ord!”
As the final and seventh passenger to board the ER4, I decided to forgo my assigned 6A and instead occupy 4C and D. Excellent choice it proved to be, for after our takeoff roll down 30 (itself highly spectacular; I’ve never experienced the tiny ER4 push so hard – rotation began at 17 or so seconds!)… well, anyways, moments after barreling down 30, we turn to a heading of 090, and this course takes our 10 souls just north of the District. Landmarks were readily recognizable, and in the brief seconds before our captain corrected our course to avoid overflying the Federal buildings, I noted Georgetown (and, in particular, the relatively large and green Kehoe Field), the Capital, and DCA’s triangular runway configuration. Cutting into the clouds soon after our correction to a c.045 heading, I was wholly at peace.
Flying to EWR was pleasant. I ordered an orange juice and Lipton tea, but soon the FA reappeared sans tea, apologized, and brought back a second juice. Arrival was on 4R, affording me a minute or two to enjoy the Manhattan island skyline before touchdown.
Again on terra firma, I proceeded to the AirTrain and then onward to Penn Station. The NJ line train was delayed 20 minutes, although I spent my half hour on the platform pleasantly listening to my mp3s and talking on the cell. Once I arrived at that crossroads of humanity, I navigated to the E line, riding to 53rd and 3rd, the Lexington stop.
Before handling my business (it should be clarified that I was to pick up a parcel for my friend from her East Midtown apartment), I was determined to fuel myself. I needed both glucose and an eye-opening drug; a hot ham and cheese roll and coffee filled the requirements. I dined at Au Bon Pain, spending just $8 but gaining at least a two-fold amount in happiness and satisfaction. After the wonderful culinary experience, I had a very good social one, that being a nice chat with a fellow FTer (I only know his real name; his handle escapes me) on the phone. A quick wash of the hands, and I proceeded towards the apartment.
I felt a sense of fulfilment as I stepped decisively into the lobby. My promise was to be kept, for I had at last arrived at the designated address. The elevator operator, well-dressed, piloted us up to floor 8, though the odds for successful completion of my assignment turned ominous when two attempts at calling the apartment failed to rouse even the machine. Two knocks and an equal number of rings later, all under the watchful eye of that most omniscient of patriarchs, and I was forced to retreat to the lobby. A call to my friend, and it was decided that the campaign was lost.
Certainly disappointed, though likewise satisfied that all options had been exercised, I set my sights at downtown. I summoned my roommate to my cell’s earpiece, and our rendevous point was set – Canal St.
And what a place that was! Crowds overflowing from the sidewalks; languages galore; pedlers a plenty. Everything was on sale, provided it was useless – cell phone holders, cheap watches, obnoxious belts, sorry jewelry. I toyed with the idea of owning my own “Patek Philippe,” however my 3 lowball bids brought only sudden anger to the countenances of my foes in business.
Determined to resist the materialistic temptation all around, I proceeded to the far-off, then merely detached, and finally close-by Golden Arches, the one with “Three floors of seating!,” and yes! – there he was! Our co-occupation of the same, diminutive unit in this universe was terribly short-lived, however, as that relentless foe tracked most expertly in Geneva imposed most harshly today, when my agenda is full to the brim. Back to 34th, down to 33rd, in to Penn, down to NJ line, over to ticket machine, in with $11.55, further down to Track 2, in to Train 74xx with a minute to spare. It is wonderful when everything works!
Filled with new experiences, I thus returned very satiated to EWR. But what was that that I heard on the train? It couldn’t have been, but just in case, I remove my left earphone and listen. A decipherable foreign language! Przepraszam, czy mowisz po Polsku?
@ EWR with 50 minutes until pushback, I decide to dart into a TGIFridays. I am seated next to large windows overlooking the airfield, but pressed for time, I examine the menu before allowing myself to savor the feast outside. My first surprise, the pleasantly reasonable (normal, non-airport) prices, is quickly offset by a great annoyance, the alarmingly slow service. Once I finally flag a waiter down, I order a chicken caesar salad, but clearly make the order contingent on its arrival within five minutes. Yes, sir, of course. Two minutes later, literally, my food is here; even more surprisingly, it is fresh and the chicken is hot off the grill – what an example of terrible service shamed into excellence!
And so I am again on par in the recording of my experiences. For future reference, let it be known that row 6 on the medium Airbeeses is worlds over standard bulkhead quality; this is certainly a no-brainer choice. The screen is even comfortably-enough forward to allow for easy viewing, and, of course, there are generous floor cutouts.
Now I believe some Economist is in order, and soon thereafter, approach chatter shall begin; I can’t wait! I am pleased to have written what seems to be a copious report, and I hope it has been as enjoyable to read as it was thrilling to experience…
Fondly from flight, currently over the greatest of Great Lakes,
Ua_to_ord 1608EST
