Rocky Mountain High, Part I

I flew out of Miles City on Great Lakes Air on Thursday afternoon and THAT was an experience all on its own.  There are some of you thinking, "Miles City has an airport?"  Yes, it does!  I believe there are two incoming flights and two outbound flights.  You can either go to Denver or Billings.  Perfect.  Where ELSE would anyone from Miles City want to go, anyway? You know. Besides Tahiti. And you can get there from Denver, anyway. 

The plane was about the size of our Cohagen School bus.  On a big day, it could carry maybe 21 passengers.  Three of us got on in Miles.  And the security people took their job VERY seriously, because we were obviously terrorist material.  It took four of them to screen the three of us.  My charm bracelet nearly detained us, which would've thrown the WHOLE crew and process, and probably provoked a pat down and interview.  In Miles City!  Fortunately it passed and we all heaved a sigh of relief. 

When the plane got there, one guy got off.  With no luggage or carry-on or anything.

We got on and just picked a seat, after consulting with the attendant where the optimum seating would be.  (Mistakenly, we thought we could sit anywhere.  Turns out we actually DID have seat assignments, but none of us thought to check that out.) There was a row of seats on each side, separated by about 12 inches of aisle to walk in.  And it's only, like, 5 foot of clearance from the floor to the ceiling, so you have to sort of sidle AND duck at the same time. Tricky. After careful examination by the attendant to make sure we had our carryons safely stowed and our seat belts buckled, it was time for take off.

I love take offs!  That rush when the plane takes off, the little tummy lurch as it leaves the ground, the shrinking houses...everything.  Turns out not everyone does, and the poor white knuckled lady across the aisle (6 inches away) kept saying, "Most crashes happen during take off or landing..." I was sort of thinking of "the unlikely event of an emergency water landing", myself, and plotting how to lash together the unused seat cushions so I'd have a raft. You know. In case of the unlikely event of sharks...

Half an hour to Gillette, Wyoming, where we FILLED the plane.  Filled it up.  Loaded 12 people. The guy who got on in Miles was moved out of his seat by someone who HAD read their ticket and seat assignment, and wasn't going to sit anywhere else but there.  Very serious.  The other 11 boardees had to wait while this was arranged to his satisfaction and delayed us nearly 2 1/2 minutes....to the great distress of ANOTHER passenger who had a connecting flight to catch in Denver to St. Paul or something.  One wouldn't think flying from Gillette or Miles City would be so intense, but it was pretty high drama stuff.  And no in-flight cocktails to ease the tension.

Mostly because the flights were no more than 63 minutes long, at the most.

Well, we finally made it to Denver International Airport, in the right seats, about 2 1/2 minutes EARLY, thanks to a tailwind!

And I made it through the airport, all dazed and wondering if I'd be able to find Sara OR my 80 pound duffel bag. (If anyone from Great Lakes Air asks, it was 50 pounds. Exactly.)  At the top of the 12th escalator, I hear "MARY! MARY!" and there was Sara.

To be continued...