to Cabbage Do - Aug 2010
 

UA 187 IAD SFO 0654 0944 752 2D

The downstairs diamond security lane was quick as could be,
and I was plenty early - too early for the RCC, which now
opens at 0600. A half hour to do the e-mail (couldn't catch
a signal outside), and then to the plane, where as usual at
IAD, half the people are zone 1, so the chosen 24 had to
wade through lengthily and obnoxiously.

On the plane, agreeable enough but not very forthcoming
service and bad Courvoisier (VS). Breakfast was your usual
rubber omelet, sausage, and home fries, in reverse order of
edibility. The fruit appetizer was quite good; a special
treat of Upland Farms strawberry banana nonfat yogurt was
quite bad.

We landed a little early.

UA 478 SFO PDX 1047 1239 319 1C

We were delayed owing to the late arrival of our equipment -
didn't even start boarding until 11-odd, which boded ill for
my connection. Drowned my apprehensions in more Courvoisier
(a double, bad, followed by a single, good) willingly
supplied by a youngish brunette FA with terrific legs; when
she noticed my appreciation, I swear she started wiggling
her bottom in my direction. I lost track, but we got to our
gate just about 1310.

There were 7 of us who arrived right around departure time
to find a bit of a scrum: the AS flight had cancelled, and
they were trying to shoehorn two planes' worth of pax into
one. As the idiots at UA hadn't been able to print out my
boarding pass, my seat disappeared, and I ended up in the
way wayback.

CO 309 PDX ANC 1320 1607 739 27A was 8F

I felt a little crammed in. The pitch is terrible, the seat
width ungenerous. I think that CO Y is some of the worst
hard product in the developed world, and onboard service,
which I remember from the old days as having been excellent,
has become curt and unexceptional. I forced myself to get a
couple hours' sleep.

On landing, it came to light that my bag had missed that
last connection. A nice agent took my info, but in the midst
of that, the carousel stopped, and she had to unload it. As
she was this tiny 100-lb thing, and I am bigger and
ostensibly stronger, I helped her with this task.
Unfortunately, I'd forgotten how much stronger my right is
than my left, and I strained my left shoulder dealing with a
bag that must have been filled with sinkers or something.

My friend Bill waited patiently as I did the appropriate
paperwork. By the time I was done, an hour had passed.

No worries, our reservation at Club Paris wasn't until 7.
Despite its hoity-toity name, this establishment specializes
in beefy things, so we had various beefy things.

The prime rib comes in two sizes - Connie ordered the little
one, but Bill and I changed that order to the big one, which
we figured to split the leftovers of between us. Medium-rare
came medium-rare; tasty beef; I annexed all the gristle and
fat, of which there wasn't all that much.

It's interesting how the same cut of meat can taste hugely
different when cooked differently. A grilled ribeye also
medium-rare was of much beefier flavor and quite delicious.

My New York came extra rare as ordered (I could have stood a
shade or three rarer, though. Its flavor, strangely, was
muted in comparison to Bill's ribeye. Still a good piece of
meat.

The steaks come rubbed with garlic, salt, and pepper.

No room for dessert.

The Kenwood Shiraz, a mediocre, slightly too sweet wine,
enhanced the rib cuts but did nothing for the sirloin.

I got to share space with Bill's cat. As I'd been up for
23 hours straight (not counting airplane snoozes), I slept
pretty well.

Next day beckoa came by around 8 for the start of the big
day. Picked up Moomba at the Sheraton and CD King and nor4
at Inlet Towers.

Plenty of time, so we got security passes and looked forward
to hoisting a couple in the Boardroom, which, as it turns
out, doesn't offer alcohol until after 10. So our enjoyment
was confined to less ethereal pleasures such as the amazing
pancake machine (amusing). beckoa is certainly WELL known at
the club.

Presently it was time to trek to the north terminal (which
was the regular terminal back when I used to fly here
frequently) and our ANC tour: we did the fire station, AS
ops, and the AS baggage facility, followed by a nice lunch.

Back to the Boardroom for a very mild Alaska Cream Ale and
a glass of somewhat okay Columbia Crest Syrah. Also I was
convinced to taste the tomato florentine soup, which I
didn't care for - it reminded me of Campbell's minestrone
without the beans.

My lost luggage was at CO, so that was dealt with with
satisfactory results.

Then, slightly tardily (coordination issues) to the state
fair an hour northeast of the city, with BD-NYC, Alysia,
and lili.

The cabbages were disappointing, though we did get to see
a 900-lb pumpkin (the pumpkins at Topsfield, my usual fair,
weigh in at 1000-1300 lb these days).

I was supposed to meet my friends at the Sluice Box,
apparently an Alaska tradition, but I'd stupidly left my
ID in BD-NYC's car. Consternation, which I solved in my
unsubtle way by going in there anyway, to much commotion and
shouting. Some young person with that jutting jaw look that
always puts me on edge threatened me with the state
troopers, and I said, bring 'em on. It was dark and noisy
inside, and I didn't find my friends, so I was on my way
out when the guy grabbed me from behind and frog-marched
me out; I was shoved out the door in the way generally only
seen in old comedy movies. Bill and Connie had witnessed
the whole proceeding and appeared to be quite amused when
they came out to greet us. lili was mortified, I think.

Well, we had to eat something, so we went to Roscoe's, whose
rather spare beef ribs were nicely smoked, the meat, what
there was of it, tender and tasty. The sauce was exceedingly
salty but didn't taste bad. Not a great deal, 3 ribs for $9,
with the a la carte price being 1 rib for $3. I also went to
the oyster stand and got half a dozen Prince William Sounds,
nice and briny and easy to eat, for those who eat such.

Then on to the lumberjack show, which was quite impressive,
especially the part where they raced up climbing a 40-ft
pole (something I couldn't even conceive of doing, though
I could, in half an hour, chop a tree that it took them
a minute or two to do). As it was the Heineken Stage, we
had to get a couple of them. No ID required, though the
"beverage control" people were patrolling, as it turns out
to keep all beer within the confines - so I said that
perhaps I could be thrown back into the bar area! and
achieving a double.

To reconnect with Alysia and BD-NYC, we'd counted on there
being phone service, which we couldn't get. So we wandered
around until we ran into the large FT contingent, borrowed
a phone, and tried again - no such luck. Decided to go
toward the entrance and then out to the car. Just as we
got to the entrance, we heard a greeting, and there they
were, having had the same idea as we. We decided to abandon
the fireworks and get back to civilization before everyone
else figured it out. The only regret: we never found the
famous chocolate-coated bacon.

We repaired to the Embassy Suites, where we took advantage
of the free wine, which was, as Ms. Life is Good said, not
too bad, and as I thought, not too good either.

BD-NYC and I took our leave of the lovely ladies and
returned to the airport for our flights. I got my 3rd
security screening, the total of which took less time than
one typical one back down, as people here are fond of
saying, in America.

interleaved mileage run
 

I'd seen the sights that everyone else was aching to see, so
decided to take an MR instead and return next day for the
rest of the events.

CO 485 ANC PDX 0135 0625 739 8F

F was 6/20, but cross-brand UDU isn't up yet. The good news
was I had row 7 and 8 to myself. Snoozed fitfully, and I'd
rather have been sitting up front drinking.

UA6698 PDX DEN 0709 1045 CR7 1C

I sniffled and dozed through the flight, which did the job.

936 DEN IAD 1155 1715 763 10K was 752 2A Ch9^^:td::td:

An equipment sub, reason unknown, to a new-configuration
763. I was assigned what SeatGuru calls the worst biz seat.
I decided to try it out to see what was so nasty. The main
fault is that it faces the galley to the rear - not a big
problem if the crew is attractive. This crew was not notable
in that way. My FA was strangely curt but pleasant enough.

Our meal choice was yes or no. A turkey sandwich on multi-
grain roll with melted Fontinalike substance and mustard.
Surprisingly not unpalatable. Salad (pretty fresh) with
lite ranch dressing. Sun Chips. Chocolate-chip cookie^^.

The poker-faced blonde FA kept me plied with Cognac^^.

Our pilot proudly announced Ch9^^, but all that came out
was that nasty hum:td::td:.

We landed a couple minutes early.

The Sheraton Herndon Dulles Airport is the sister building
to the Hyatt Place next door. I think the latter is nicer.
A fairly average room with a nice big bathroom. Free wi-fi
at the club lounge, which was closed. I wasn't thrilled by
the food availability and pricing, so a three-block walk to
Generous George's was indicated. There I had a "schooner"
(32 oz) of Sierra Nevada and a meatball sub, $9 each. George
is generous with his starch - the sub was packed with
meatballs, but these tasted strangely of wheat germ. On the
side was close to a pound of quite crispy, easily eatable
French fries.

Bed was welcome.

I got 7, count 'em, Easy Updates telling me of successive
huge delays on my next flight. The last one admitted that
the flight was going out on time.

UA 991 IAD ORD 0800 0859 763 2A Ch9^ Empower

I didn't want to fuss with the hotel wi-fi (free in the
club lounge, which was closed but open) and decided to use
the RCC for my e-mail.

At 6 I was the only patron at diamond security and expected
them to use me for practice as they have often done in the
past. No - I was through in seconds. 30 minutes from hotel
to club, not bad.

The flight looked pretty full.

Breakfast: blueberry muffin, apple, or banana (choice of
one). I think seconds were available on request.

The flight, quite bumpy in spots, landed a couple minutes
late. I tried to find boxo, but ORD is a big place. Turns
out she had vacated the C club about the time we landed.

UA 431 ORD ANC 0955 1318 752 2A Ch9^

My seatmate, who showed up just before doors closed, was
somewhat hyper and not put together. I thought, infrequent
flyer? Turns out this rather attractive redhead about my
age was retired UA FA Patricia, who was coming up to visit
her son who had just smashed his leg in a mountain bike
accident. No wonder about the hyperness. Between naps I
had a bunch of Courvoisiers (4) and heard her life story,
which involved a lot of reminiscing about the old days when
flying was flying, with roasts carved seatside and piano
lounges on the upper deck of the 747s. One can get a lot of
conversational mileage, as it were, out of the old days.

Breakfast: chive omelet (no cheese!), sausages, soggy home
fries, with a good fruit appetizer. The omelet tasted a lot
better than the rubber cheese omelet that UA has been
serving. The other things were fine. I ignored the croissant
and the yogurt that now come on the tray, having learned my
lesson about these from a previous flight.

Bob W's bbq
 

I thought I was going to get picked up at 2:30 ... turns out
the picker-uppers were expecting a call (but my cell service
doesn't work here) and under the impression I was on the
3:40 Continental. Oops. I eventually used the airport wi-fi
to get a message to another FTer to send to Bob W and got
retrieved; by this time most of the prep had been done, and
all I had to do was slice tomatoes and cheese.

When I arrived we had a hemispherical tasteoff of 1999
reserves. I'd contributed one of the last bottles probably
in existence of Ward's Gateway Shiraz, which I'd got from
Ray Ward back around 2001. This against the Columbia Red
Willow Syrah, which Bob W had no doubt got from Gordy
Rawson back around 2002. The Ward was in its prime, rich
and plummy, with chocolate and nut notes. I think (but I
am prejudiced) that it won over the Red Willow, which had
begun to thin out and go cherry cough syrupy.

Aviator Malbec was proudly served. I found it rather thin
and cherryish, very unlike the Argentinian Malbecs that
I've grown to like, though not bad for that. Some other
Airfield products were served as well. They were okay and
unmemorable.

BV Rutherford Cabernet was decent, a bit stemmy and green,
but perfectly fine for a mass-market wine. But there were
some bargains on offer:

Kirkland Stag's Leap Cabernet was surprisingly complex and
true to type. Eucalyptus, currants, the usual lot, and not
so offensively green as I've encountered in some wines
from this neighborhood.

Chateauneuf-du-Pape from World Market or Whole Foods or
someplace similar starting with W was also extraordinary
for the price ($11 or so).

I found Terrazas Malbec surprisingly both nicer and more
complex than its Susanna Balbo counterpart - I'd had her
Torrontes and was expecting a lot more. The Terrazas
was drier, fruitier, and darker all at once; the Balbo
kind of dull and wimpy.

From the grill -
pork ribs - big, meaty, finished with a sauce I found a
bit sweet

tri-tip - mostly cooked medium-rare to medium, only someone
took one off prematurely, upon which lili, Franny, and I
descended on it like vultures, as rare is too well-done for
us

halibut - nice

king salmon - done a bit more than I like but very fresh and
very good.

I made Greek-style pasta according to jackal's specs, more
or less, adding a lot less cheese than called for because of
my own predilections (but perhaps more onion and garlic) and
prepared slaw according to Bob W's. I kind of liked the way
the pasta turned out and can assure you that Wolfgang and
(George) Bernard Chou and assorted carrots had not given
their lives in vain.

The hard core kept swilling the abundant red wine until 1
or so, whereupon - I might have misunderstood the accommo
situation - I appropriated the spare bed, which other than
having some dog hair was very suitable.

I was, by the way, mildly disappointed not to have met the
distributor of said dog hair.

Denali.

jackal came by Bob W's around 9, and we left shortly with an
assortment of provisions that Bob had rounded up for us. A
tour of town to pick up the others, who were, let's see,
nor4, LIGrin, kltye, ckpeter, belle3388 + Lily, CDKing,
and magic111, not necessarily in that order. Some detours
on the way north, starting with trying to find a bank where
jackal could deposit many hundred dollars in small bills,
followed by a tour of Wasilla: what has come to be known as
Four Corners, all of which we toured in an attempt to find
something unknown (we ended up with a coffee drink for the
driver and a road atlas); and the Iditarod headquarters,
where we viewed an interesting and inspirational video about
the race and met some adorable Husky puppies.

On to Talkeetna, a quaint (too much so) town on the Susitna
River (where the heck do they get these amusing names? and
why do the Athabaskans make all these words that end in
-tna?), where we lunched at the Roadhouse - many of us had
chili (reindeer, black bean, or a mixture), though the house
specialty is Cornish-style pasties. The non-bean chili was
good for the middle of nowhere, though too tomatoey and not
spicy enough (great lashings of Tabasco made it too sour and
still not spicy enough). Some whose names shall remain
undivulged begged for time to explore the town, which was
reluctantly granted, so magic111 and I took the opportunity
to take a short walk and catch a glimpse of the river in its
roiling opaque green glacial glory.

Which reminds me that on the way to the state fair the other
day we had made a brief detour to Eklutna - the only a
proposness being the peculiarity of the names of the places,
Eklutna being a small old former Russian Orthodox town on
the way to Palmer, also ever so quaint.

It's a long trip up there. Not for Alaskans, I guess: I used
to go with a woman whose cousin was working at Prudhoe Bay,
and he'd have a week off, so he'd drive to his mom's in
Anchorage, have a good meal or two, then drive right back,
or so I'm told.

It's a gorgeous long trip up there, and we made frequent ooh
and ah stops and futile attempts to sight Denali, which was
most of the time covered with clouds, and when anyone caught
a glimpse ("stop! stop!"), we'd dutifully stop at the
nearest turnoff, whereupon the big boy would hide again.
The surrounding mountains - breathtaking - and valleys - the
fall foliage was at its peak -, though, made the trip worth
taking in and of themselves.

There were significant construction delays on the highway,
which gave us a bit of anxiety regarding our dinner plans,
but in the end all was well.

As we approached our destination, we encountered a moose cow
and yearling (we called it a calf, but magic111 corrected
us), who allowed us to get mighty close and get some
spectacular shots.

Seat 2A
 

And at last, and almost on time (thank goodness for schedule
padding), we arrived at the McKinley Creekside Cafe, which
does a satisfactory imitation of a Moosewood-type place
hippie restaurant out in the middle of godknowswhere.
Luckily it's not a veggie haven. I had the reindeer sausage
and potato soup, which came full of some dark green
vegetable (kale, I imagine) and no sausage in evidence
(perhaps it was sausage broth they used); it could I think
have fooled a vegetarian and did a creditable imitation of
Portuguese caldo verde.

Our end of the table got 3 different preparations of
halibut - ckpeter opted for it baked in an artichoke cream
sauce (struck me as slightly too fancy); belle3388 had it
grilled; and for me, deep-fried in panko - after being
frowned upon by some at the table, I pointed out that deft
frying would yield a tender and juicy and not overcooked
result, the coating (not greasy if cooked at a proper
temperature) protecting the delicacy of the fish. Which is
what happened. The coating was maybe a tad thick, but the
snow-white meat inside was delicate, moist, and delicious.
Actually, I think among the three I won. An assortment of
burgers and salmon and salads and things around the table
were generally pronounced good.

A few Alaskan IPAs went nicely with my dinner.

The highlight of the evening, though, was getting to meet
the legendary Seat 2A for the first time. This renowned
world traveler works at the park and in his spare time
wanders around the world, apparently preferably in seat 2A.
He's as entertaining in person as his trip reports are
(I heard, correct me if I'm wrong, that he has posted over
500,000 words on the forum, the equivalent of 5 good-size
novels). He drinks Alaskan Amber, in case you run into him.

Many people order to-go bag lunches for the trip, as there
isn't catering on the buses or at the nature centers along
the route. I tried to point out that with all of Bob W's
party leftovers, this was kind of redundant, but most did
buy anyhow.

Thanks to jackal hustling us out, we managed to check in
before closing time at the Denali Grizzly Bear Resort Hotel
and Cabins. belle3388 and Lily got rooms in the hotel part,
while magic111 and I roughed it in the Sourdough Cabin, one
of a string of similar off downhill from the hotel part. The
cabin was somewhat spartan and without water, but it was
wired for electricity, which allowed for such luxuries as
lights, baseboard heating, and the noisiest alarm clock this
side of Hades. The shower house was up the hill a couple
hundred paces, no great hardship.

We had a little party at belle3388's, where we toasted each
other with the Kirkland Signature sparkling wine methode
champenoise from Sonoma - a clean and pleasant wine with
elegant bubbles. A couple hundred feet back downhill to the
cabin.

Beds were comfy enough, and the heating was effective, and
we were tired. I slept well for the first night in a while.

Our pickup was I think 0545, so we could be at the park in
time for an 0630 bus to Eielson Visitor Center, which is
66 miles into the park and about halfway down the park road.
It's 4 hours in and 3 hours back (people are more into
oohing and aahing on the way out), with a half-hour stop at
the center, on an old school bus with school bus windows
and wonky school bus heating that is either too hot or not
hot enough. Our cheerful and chatty driver Ray was a
wellspring of information on things geological, historical,
and zoological - the very model of a modern major general,
if you will. Still, it would have been fun to have Seat 2A
as our guide, but it was his day off.

We loaded a cooler of snacks and dips and cheese and a big
shopping bag full of chips and dippers onto the bus with
us. It was suggested that we bring the 5 partial bottles
of leftover wine and some beer as well, but it was deemed
not worth the trouble to pack the glasses, and this would
have involved a third mule (and a fourth, if we took the
glasses). Perhaps I should have thought to bring plastic
cups, but then again there was no rest facility on the bus,
and the bus was pretty full - I was pushing it a little
just bringing the one cooler.

It's a fairly rugged 66 miles on a gravel road - compromise
between accessibility, one goal of the park, and maintaining
the wilderness, another. No private vehicles (with some
exceptions) after a certain point 17 miles in. Modest net
elevation gain but substantial variation, as we went through
four mountain passes - Sable, Polychrome, Highway, and
Thoroughfare, each with its own charm and views - I think
Polychrome was the most spectacular (as it should be, given
its name). The appeal of the geologic beauty rivals that of
the animals, and I say that even if we got hardly a glimpse
of the namesake mountain.

There are a few rest stops on the way, where squeegees are
available so people can attempt to get some of the crap off
their windows - the gravel-mud roads and the moisture
conspire to give a coating of gray mud on the windows that
obscure the view, and which returns within a few minutes
of cleaning.

Procedure. Peek out the dirty windows as best you can, and
then when someone sees something ("stop! stop!") all the
windows get opened, and people crowd to the sides, forcing
their noses and/or cameras out for a view of whatever there
is to see.

Wildlife sighted: Several herds of Dall sheep, one fairly
close. A medium-size grizzly, very close. A couple herds of
caribou, one very close. A lone wolf, pretty close but
trying to pretend he wasn't. Another couple bears. The last
bear sighting was right by Eielson, so the alarm was sounded
and folks were held in the protection of the building or the
vehicles until the critters had left, and they took their
sweet time about it. Which led to some mighty good photos.

Lunch at Eielson (creepily named after someone who died in
a plane crash) - to get really neurotic about it, I'll tell
you that we had artichoke-Parmesan dip, artichoke-Jalapeno
dip, hot salsa, seafood salad, hummus, and 3 kinds of cheese
served with pita chips and corn chips, all still good and
fresh and abundant.

When it was time to load up, the misty weather had somewhat
cleared, though it was way too overcast throughout to get
any kind of mountain view.

On the way back, fewer wildlife sightings - whether that
was because it was midday and the animals were on break or
because our eyes were tired I don't know.

We had time to see the park visitor center, but after having
seen the real thing it's not a big deal to see pictures and
models, so we left after a little time.

The trip fro was quicker than the trip to, which was good,
as magic111 had a plane to catch. We got him to the airport
an astonishing 2 hours before his flight, even with a short
tour of Lake Hood seaplane port before.

On to Simon & Seafort's, which is very like McCormick &
Schmick's, not a bad thing on a good day. beckoa was there
to greet us at a long feasting table, where I proceeded to
drop a C-note on some pretty fair wine and seafood.

I started with oysters from Something Bay (typing Something
Bay into Streets & Trips yields several suggestions, of
which Shelikof Bay looks the most likely) - less briny than
the Prince Williams from the state fair, but perhaps more
suave and delicate. With this a Moose Tooth (?) IPA.

Some discussion about what would go with Bob W's filet
mignon and my Alaska seafood sampler. We ended up with the
Canoe Ridge 06 Merlot (Canoe Ridge), which was of medium
body with cherries and dark chocolate on the palate and a
medium berry finish. Went fine with my halibut and salmon
and I presume great with Bob W's beef.

One of us, nor4 I think, got a flight of Pinot Noirs, of
which I tasted the Pencarrow and the Beringer. The first
was a riot of tropical fruit with a touch of boar taint,
interesting but not pleasant; the other was just plain
boring. I believe the third was Erath, and I passed on it
because I find it boring

My dish consisted of lightly smoked halibut (nice), lightly
smoked silver (coho) salmon (nice but overdone), large spot
prawns, and a pretty big but pretty tasteless scallop. The
fishes went okay with the wine. Sides were utterly boring,
and I should have asked to substitute something like a side
of ice: fingerling potatoes, supposedly smoked, but in this
incarnation dull dull dull, tasting neither like potatoes
nor like smoke; and steamed veggies, mostly green and yellow
summer squash, neither of which I am overfond of.

belle and kltye had somehow been disserviced and received
compensation in form of a large slice of the dessert of the
day, chocolate lavender cake, so everyone got a taste of
that. Me, I think mint goes better than lavender.

beckoa got me back to Muldoon a bit after midnight. My
friends had stayed up for me, thank goodness.

In the morning, Peggy's (along with Club Paris one of the
oldest surviving eateries in the city). I had hot links and
eggs over easy, the former a bright lurid red but decent-
tasting commercial product, the latter over hard, nothing
being easy in Alaska. And a slice of gooseberry pie, as I've
not seen a gooseberry in decades. Peggy's is famous for pie.
It's pretty good, the crust flaky, the filling slightly
overdone.

Milwaukee's Best: it's been a long time since I had this
(it's now made by Miller). Better than PBR and approaching
Rolling Rock, i.e. thoroughly mediocre but dead cheap.

Dinner: Rock Cornish hens in a Dijon and maple sauce.
These were the biggest game hens I've ever seen, close on
2 1/2 lb each (the size regular chickens used to be), so
we ate only half apiece, washed down with sufficient beer.

Connie made us walk around Lake Cheney before my flight, as
both her husband and I looked a little worse for wear after
pounding a half case of brew between us.

And so to the airport, where security as usual took but a
couple minutes. Yes, monitor, Humpy's was obvious enough
that even I could hardly avoid tripping over it.

CO 223 ANC SEA 0035 0453 753 11F

A quite full flight, but I had an empty middle next to me.
I fell asleep as we sped down the runway and woke only when
the plane made a fairly hard landing. It was before opening
time for the PC, so I hung around the WN gate for a bit,
noting that the custom is in fact somewhat different, and
not in a good sense, from that of the legacies. Despite
the no-charge-for-bags policy, they seemed to be carrying
more junk than the slightly more disciplined UA/CO flyers.
They also seemed to be younger. Younger does not necessarily
mean more attractive.

UA 916 SEA IAD 0729 1530 752 4D Ch9:td: Empower:td:

A bit of a scrum at boarding, and the agent turned away
some at the reader. One of these claimed that he had heard
Zone 2 being called. Many are called but few are chosen,
or perhaps he heard the boarding announcement for the next
flight over. Or perhaps he was a bold gate louse.

Two FAs, both older than myself; one smiled and exchanged
quips with the passengers; the other poker-faced and not
very forthcoming. Both provided good service.

Channel 9 was refused.

20 of 24 in the cabin were 1K or above, which I learned by
listening to the FA thanking each pax for his or her
loyalty.

We got offered the fruit plate with yogurt or so-called
scrambled eggs. These turned out to be the same rolled
chive omelet that I've seen before; it was tasty though
done a bit harder than before and than I like. The same
brown'n'serve sausages and rather tasty cumined potatoes.
This day's croissant smelled buttery, so I bit into it -
flaky and delicious; I could have been at Au Bon Pain if
not in France.

Good Courvoisier. Napped. Hot towels shortly before
landing, which was a quarter hour early.

Aloft Dulles North, Ashburn. My cute driver Anneke was
extremely chatty and nice. Checkin to a top-floor room
was without hitch.

No soap in the room. A couple other things missing as well,
but I forget what they are, as I seldom use them.

I took an instant dislike to the bartender, who spent most
of her time talking to (not with) the patrons. Even if she
wasn't talking to you, you'd learn where she grew up, went
to school, her work schedule, what music she likes to listen
to. It was kind of a chore catching her eye to order another
beer. Sierra Nevada was cheaper than Blue Moon; both were
the same price on the printed menu. At length I got hungry
and ordered meatloaf with tater tots and vegetable croutons
- this of course took a really long time to come out, even
though everything had to have been made in advance. Maybe
14 oz of decent-tasting meat substance, highly processed
from cheap ground beef, so it was mostly this uniform mash
with little particles of very hard gristle. Ketchup frosting
as with most meatloaf. The tater things were pretty good,
and the "croutons" turned out to be just your ordinary
steamed vegetables, green beans, red bell pepper, yellow
carrots, and broccoli. Also, to add value, there was a small
ramekin of unnanounced, pretty decent (though not so nice
as homemade Alaskan) cole slaw.

Fast forward 40 hours, during which I ate no solids and
drank only water, thanks to a freelance assignment blowing
up in my face - being retired, I have to take on assorted
odd jobs to make ends meet. I got massively sick. Going to
e-mail the manager about that meatloaf.

To remedy my suddenly emptied system, I went next door to
the HGI to get some lunch (the only kitchen within walking
distance - as distinguished from a heat'n'eat parlor) and
discovered that it offers breakfast and dinner only. What
to do? There's a Mini-Mart (Exxon or Mobil I think) down
the way - chili dog (1.39 for the dog, .30 for chili and/or
cheese), Schlitz Malt Liquor (1.59 for 24 oz, but to be fair
for about twice that I could get Heineken or Beck's), fried
Cheetos (2.99 for half a pound). On expeditions such as this
I get to indulge all my most horrid perversions. The dog
(jumbo beef) was not notable - a little more than 1/4 lb of
way overprocessed and oversalted meat, not sweetened, thank
the gods, and with a decent smoky flavor. The chili I put
on from a nearby dispenser was, surprisingly, an underspiced
and overtomatoed but decent eatin' chili, one that I'd not
send back at a restaurant. Schlitz Malt Liquor is its usual
slightly too sweet bitter-from-ethanol self, with a fruity
aroma and a rubbing-alky finish. And I have this secret love
for Cheetos. A semi-satisfying meal, enough for two, for the
price of an ice cream at the hotel.

Holed up in this hotel for a while and then left, dullly.

As she didn't know where the Sheraton was, Anneke took me to
the airport to catch a shuttle, which didn't come for a fair
time, during which the Westin Reston bus and the Marriott
bus both came twice. I chatted with an ASA FA whose luggage
had been lost by UA and then with Anneke, who had come back
for a second round. Eventually the shuttle came, driven by
some I seem to recall as being an assistant manager.

Sheraton Herndon Dulles. This is becoming home away from
home, as well it might be for $55++. This time they gave me
a biggish corner room with a big bathroom. The resto/bar
wasn't open, so back to Generous Georgie's, where a Sam and
an order of "shrimp scampi" was $21 all in and did me well -
except they poured me 32 oz of Sam Summer, which it turns
out is dirtier-tasting than Blue Moon and not what I was
looking forward to at all, though given the heat it was
refreshing enough. The seafood came as 10 24-30s (a bit
over 1/3 lb) in a semi-appetizing sauce of very bland oil,
chopped garlic from a jar, Old Bay (what's the charm of it,
I keep asking myself, it's just salt, paprika, celery seed,
and minute quantities of bay and thyme or something like
that), chopped tomato, and red pepper flakes (Georgie's
motto is "spicey is nicey") - pretty good, though the
shrimp had been overbrined and were quite salty. Instead of
a bread basket (to soak up that neutral oil) they served me
a couple small peculiar slices of white pizza.

The room comforted me, and I slept well. Unfortunately,
someone had spilled some oily mess on the night table, and
it hadn't been cleaned up, so groping for my glasses I got
a handful of grease. Whereupon I tried to turn on the
light, only to discover it was out. So I blundered over
to the standing lamp down the way, only to discover it out
as well. At the front door, the switch actually turned some
lights on and allowed me to see that the lamps in question
had been unplugged. No tip for this maid.

Next stop Boston, for a short non-trip-report-worthy jaunt,
and then to the VIE Do!

I was wrong about this not being a report-worthy part of the
trip. Some amusing and/or atmospheric stuff, despite the
fact I slept most of the day.

The Sheraton Herndon Dulles was okay as always, except that
somehow housekeeping had managed to leave a puddle of grease
on my night table, which fact I didn't tumble to until I
woke in the middle of the night and groped for my glasses.
Ugh. So I turned on the light, and it didn't turn on, and so
I staggered to the corner and turned on the standing lamp,
but it too didn't turn on. But my laptop in the corner was
glowing green, so what was up with that. I went to the front
and turned the vestibule light on and investigated the dark
far corner: it turned out that both the lamps I had tried to
use had been unplugged. Fie. In the morning the pleasant but
noncommittal desk person was pleasant but noncommittal.

US4506 BWI LGA 0855 1003 DH8 2C
was
4532 BWI LGA 1225 1335 DH8 4A

Yes: it is hard to get from Dulles to BWI. But using public
trans I managed to show up bizarrely early (my plan);
security took maybe 5 minutes, so I got the earlier flight,
which was perfectly okay. Oddity. AirTran had told some of
its pax to board a CLT flight at gate 32, but there is no
gate 32 any more, so people were milling about where gate 32
used to be until a US agent took them in hand. Odder still,
a plane pulled in to where gate 32 used to be, so pax had to
de- and emplane through US's gate 36, a little bit of a
hike. At the US Club in New York Jacquie got me on a flight
3 hours early.

US2124 LGA BOS 1100 1214 E90 2A
was
2130 LGA BOS 1400 1513 E90 2A

Glenlivet. The FA didn't know the difference between on the
rocks and straight, so I got a cold one. Though the service
was fine and the seats reasonably comfortable, I still
prefer the Airbuses to the jungle jets.

The Sheraton Colonial Wakefield is a zillion miles from
nowhere, but it's a reasonably pleasant facility anyhow,
with an on-premises sort-of restaurant and a good golf
course. Despite this being a Priceline or something stay,
I was given Internet access as an SPG amenity.

A French dip was an ample serving of very gray rib roast
meat on a baguette, sided by a cup of horrendously salty
"au jus." Beer was the order of the day.

Comfy bed but the a/c had two settings, on and off.

US4773 BOS PBG 0920 1057 SF3 2D
was 0800 0910

Okay, here's hopping, skipping, and jumping in earnest.
The plane was sitting there saying "come fly me," but its
crew was delayed by thunderstorms on the way in from Albany.
There were five of us on the flight - one, Brian, a decade
younger than I but still old enough to know better, was
doing the same thing. He couldn't get the turnaround either
(note: if you need to book the turnaround, do it on Expedia
or Orbitz or someone; the US site won't sell an under-hour
connection) either, so both of us were going to throw
ourselves on the mercy of the gate agent to get moved up.
Brian, had booked PHL-BOS-PBG-return to get his leg up on
the other Golds out of PHL. I'd booked BOS-PBG-BOS-PHL-BWI-
CLT-MLB-CLT-BWI. We compared notes - same outbound, same
return with the same plan, same flight to Philly afterward.

At 7:30, no crew; we feared that things were going to get
difficult if they didn't get us out at 8. So we sat there
and watched lightning at 8 for a good long storm. The front
left around 9, and we loaded up some time later. Once we
took off, it was an easy flight except for some hefty bumps
over Lake Champlain. We got in around 11.
======
I asked the girl "are you the gate agent for the next
flight?" and breathed a sigh of relief when the answer was
yes. Unfortunately, she was new, and didn't know how to deal
with such peculiarities as we. We had to wait for her super,
who was off dealing with a wheelchair pax. At length he
was apprised of the situation and eventually came up with
BPs for us on this flight.

US4774 PBG BOS 1125 1219 SF3 4D
was
4777 PBG BOS 1600 1710 SF3

We were last to board. Our FA, a very pretty Ukrainianish
girl named Olga, expressed no surprise, no emotion whatever
on seeing us again but later volunteered the information
that she had had two similar on yesterday's flights. (She's
one of those FAs who runsherwordstogether so even though all
the words are said, you can't understand them.) Again, a
nothing flight (the Saab sounds and feels pretty much the
same as the DH8s, only it's 1-2 rather than 2-2, and I think
the legroom is an inch or so worse).

Brian said he might go in Boston for lunch, and I bade him
bon appetit and good luck. I checked loads, and the 1330
was F5, and the 1430 F0. What to do? Duh. Tim (or Tom?)
the GA got me 3A.

US1605 BOS PHL 1330 1510 E90 3A
was
US1825 BOS PHL 1830 2009 E90 2F

I was settling into my fairly comfy seat, when who came up
to say hello but Brian - he too had found out the loads and
come to the same conclusion. They gave him 4A, and we
carried on a front-and-back conversation for a while - we
had a good talk about documentation in the pharmaceutical
industry and other pressing topics of the day. The FA was
very good and kept me in Glenlivet.

There was room in F on the 1815, so I thought of taking it,
but Hotwire hotels were running 80+. and PL rejected my $55
bid; I decided to just pull an all-nighter in the airport,
so who cares about getting there early.

I decided to get me some protein at Chickie and Pete's. The
gorgeous waitress was agreeable but had the voice of a crow,
sad to relate. The draft Yuengling was slightly off - dirty
pipes, I'd guess. A burger ordered rare was about 6 oz of
(as advertised) ground prime rib done medium-rare. Pretty
decent, but for me this day not enough food, as I hadn't
eaten since the previous day. So I splurged on a pound of
snow crab legs, which were enormously salty but pretty
good-tasting - came in a puddle of something that tasted
like Italian dressing, easily washed off by the cup of
drawn butter. I still had two hours to kill, which I did
first at the RCC (free bottled Yuengling) and then at the
USAC (Dove hot chocolate from Flavia; $1 Bud/Bud Light).

US2045 PHL BWI 2045 2140 319 3A

Sat next to an entertaining 60-ish ex-hippieoid from
Escondido or someplace come to visit his daughter in
Severna Park.

We got in 15 or 20 early, the flight proper having taken
something like 15 minutes.

Four legs in coach in one day
 

I went down to baggage claim to all-nighter it at a bench
with an electric outlet next to it. I hadn't planned on
getting any sleep anyway (things to tie up before going to
Europe), and I didn't feel like dropping a hundred bucks for
a hotel room for just a few hours. At some point I tried a
pro forma Priceline bid of $55, but it wasn't taken.

This aging, already kind of dubious airport gets uglier the
later it gets. Interestingly, the annoying announcements
get more frequent and louder after midnight. Has to be
deliberate. And at some point they close the restrooms,
except for a select few. I tried to find one around 4, with
no luck, so I actually asked a TSA guy, who said that they
close them every day at 3, but there was one open by the
C checkpoint (near the all-night Subway).

US1249 BWI CLT 0530 0649 319 19E was
US1539 BWI CLT 0700 0833 321 4C

Figuring I could get more done in the club in Charlotte
than at BWI, I decided to stand by for the early flight.
The GA tried mightily to get me 2F (or so she said), but
the computer kept bouncing me into middle seats in the
back. At departure time I still had a middle seat in the
back. Not awful, certainly more legroom than in the Saab.
I slept anyhow. We landed somewhat early.

I had a couple cups of decaf in the C/D club (decaf has
enough caffeine to buzz me fine); lolled around a bid; did
some work and some FT; and then off to Bojangles way back
in B. As usual the chicken was underseasoned but extremely
salty (but still perhaps the best fast food in the airport).
Dirty rice was also salty and insufficiently dirty (being
made with pork sausage rather than minced liver).

Returned to the club to get a glass of Beringer Merlot, then
a hike to E31 (the flight had been listed at E1, but no such
luck).

US2580 CLT MLB 1125 1302 CRJ 4C

The FA was cute and jolly and reminded me of Alysia, only
she was brunette.

Of the 9 people in rows 1 to 4, 4 were HS&Jers. 3D, a non-
FTer who lurks here, reported that there were "7 or 8" of
us on the flight. CRJs are kind of uncomfortable. You knew
that. I slept anyway.

I told the FA "see you in a few." It turns out there was a
crew change. It also turns out that the return leg was
crowded enough to prevent some of the turners from doing
their turns - usairways.com didn't allow the turn to be
booked, as the connection was under an hour. Orbitz had
no such qualms.

US2580 MLB CLT 1340 1521 CRJ 4C

The new FA was really strict and literal about all the
little safety-related things but otherwise just fine.

I became unresponsive after a glass of red wine.

On deplaning, the FA asked, have a nice nap? I grinned
and said, yes, thanks.

US1186 CLT BWI 1625 1750 319 10F

I wasn't even on the list for an upgrade (checked at the
club). That's okay, the 10AF windows are comfier than F.
10D was an attractive woman in her 40s who kept looking
at me funny. I think that she wanted the seat rather than
me. I slept through this flight too. I am now (supposedly)
Platinum again until 2012.

I bribed my brother to drive me to BWI by offering to buy
him a steak. He said he was in a fish mood, and after some
back and forth we decided on Gunning's, which is this
dive bar cum crab house in a strip mall that happens to
serve decent food at upscale prices. It's a bit of a shock
when you open the menu at this slightly dingy place and see
main courses running $20-35. Sandwiches are available as
well, though, and these price normally.

My brother had his usual appetizer, buffalo wings, which
here are amazingly sour and hardly hot at all - I can't
figure what kind of hot sauce they're using; anyhow, I
don't like it. The wings themselves were not frozen but
sort of tough anyway. The last time we were here, he got
broiled fish, and they cooked the heck out of it. I told
him to order it medium-rare, so he did. Broiled flounder,
just perfect, huge, a great plate of food.

I asked for oysters on the half shell but was told that
the restaurant doesn't get them until October.

Being in a crab house, I ordered a strip steak mooing.
It came very rare, almost as rare as I wanted. Being in a
crab house and feeling slightly funny about this, I asked
for a blob of crab imperial to be put on top ($8 extra) -
this was extremely mustardy but made with good lump crab,
with only one crab crunchie, which was gigantic and easy
to find, no crunching required.

Yuengling.

I got to the airport mighty early (as I was counting on
getting the earlier flight). The best the agent could do
for me was 8F, but it was F2 still, so there was hope.

As I was leaving the desk, a couple who didn't speak
English were being dealt with quite gingerly - it seems
they had bought a ticket on united.fr from BWI-MCO, but
that ticket turned out to be invalid because their credit
card was turned down (but I saw their confirmation - it
said confirmed, what was that all about), so they had to
buy another, but US made them go back to UA, et cetera et
cetera et cetera. I translated as best I could with my
mixture of idiomatic Corsican from 1960 and Trouvere talk
from the 13th century and what I know from Escoffier and
the Asterix books. I hope they ended up in the right city
on the right day, but I had a plane to catch so couldn't
wait to find out. Security took less than a minute.

Went to the desk and asked the agent if I could have
something in row 6. He said, would row 1 do? I swallowed
my disappointment and smiled a big old smile. Actually,
1CD on the 320s have a little cutout, giving maybe a
couple inches extra foot space (not legroom, exactly).

UA 357 BWI ORD 1515 162O 320 1C Ch9:td: Empower:td:
was UA 473 BWI ORD 1706 1812 320 1B

I think they meant for Ch9 to be on; unfortunately, the
audio wasn't working except for Ch1 and 10.

A willing and cheerful crew; not much catering - a USAir-
style snack basket with worse food than US serves. Okay,
Biscoffs are good, but the nuts - King Nut premium mixed
nuts - were weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable. Rancid,
too. Courvoisier helped.

My seatmate was intermittently fairly chatty; I discovered
that she was at the end of her career doing some executivy
thing someplace for some big company that didn't appreciate
her, not that she needed more money, but she wanted to cut
down on the hours, and maybe she would retire and work as a
vet tech or teacher's aide or something, and her husband was
a pilot at Boeing and was going to be delivering some of
the first 787s to NH.

We landed half an hour early, which would have been fine
but for the fact that my next flight wasn't for a while,
and the C RCC isn't anything to write home about.

UA 395 ORD SAN 1800 2020 752 4B Ch9^^ Empower:td:
actually took off about 1930, landed in the mid-9 pms.
was UA 651 ORD SAN 2019 2231 752 5D

The flight was an hour and change late. The agent at the RCC
did a doubletake at her screen before saying, uh, I guess
the crew was delayed. I wonder what the real story was.

My seatmate asked me if I wanted a window seat (usually, the
answer is yes, but today I felt Mr. Lasix calling rather
urgently). She said, then I won't have to bother you getting
up and going to the restroom all the time. I told her that
it was all the same, either I bothered her or she bothered
me. She actually stayed put at the window (and got up only
twice during the flight) and turned out to be a perfectly
okay seatmate.

I guess they got to try out the new phraseology today -
instead of "position and hold," the controllers henceforth
are to say "line up and wait," which saves one syllable but
sounds kind of stupid. Every time ground control said "line
up and wait," the pilots would chuckle.

GC: American xxx, line up ... and ... waaaait.
American: Line up ... and ... waaaait, American xxx.
UA 395: How long have you been doing this?
GC: About an hour.
UA 395: Well done.
American: Gotta do it in an accent no one can understand,
though.
[a few more line-up-and-waits later]
GC: Have to get my practice in - been doing it one way for
22 years, and now they tell me to change.

The flight itself was fine, the crew quite jolly.

Catering sort of lacked. The choices were chicken or lasagne
- but nobody knew whether the lasagne had red meat in them,
about which some of the Califunny people made urgent and
loud inquiries. I was concerned about cheese, as cheese
greps me, especially in the air, so I said I'd prefer the
chicken. The purser said that there should be no problem
getting my first choice. I should have chosen the no food
option, though as it turns out the pasta smelled kind of
good. The chicken was a dried-out slice of breast with fake
grill marks (they were sort of crooked and unparallel),
heavily brined, in a sauce that appeared to be cornstarch
water seasoned with salt, salt, salt, sage, and salt. On
the side, cheese polenta (so much for avoiding dairy), which
tasted okay but was kind of salty, carrots (salty), and
asparagus cooked to the texture of pudding (salty) mixed
with miraculously not too salty and not overcooked edamame.
The salad was half cucumber (skin left on) and half romaine,
with lite ranch dressing on the side. I left most of my food
but was grateful for the chocolate chip cookie that came
later. Courvoisier flowed freely throughout.

I fell asleep to the dulcet tones of ATC and woke flailing
about for some reason, doing something I haven't done before
in 55 years of flying - knocked over my (thankfully almost
empty) Cognac and broken the glass. And it was a water glass
and not one of those new stemware, so I must have thumped
it pretty hard.

We landed something over an hour late.

They had a supposedly upgraded room for me at the Hilton,
which doesn't have free wi-fi, or, in fact, any wi-fi at
all, except in the lobby (where it is free, using the promo
code LOBBY). The room had a water view, though lili,
whom I am to meet today for leg one of the VIE Do, tells
me all the rooms have a water view.

The wired Internet wasn't working, either, and anyhow the
manager asserts that they charge even golds and diamonds
for it (perhaps the memo hasn't come through).

Speaking of water, the tap stuff is brackish and moldy, so
I had to use one of the bottled waters. There are two big
Glaceau Smart Waters in full view, $5 each; down underneath
there are two little Hilton waters, free (I hope).

The bed was very comfy, though, and I got six joyous hours'
sleep.

It was a real pleasure to meet you all at the Creekside. Had I not had a prior engagement in Fairbanks the next day I would love to have driven you all out to Eielson Visitor Center. Hopefully that can happen at another time.

By the way, Carl Ben Eielson, for whom the Visitor Center is named, is perhaps Alaska's most famous aviator. You'll find a nice biography on him HERE.