My Last Day in Wisconsin

27 October 2012 in Friendship, Memories, Traveling


The time just flew by and soon I found myself awake Sunday morning, the past week a blur. My friends had left me their other car and so I drove that back to their house and met up with the final leg of my tour with Nick.

But before I get to that I want to mention while I was waiting for Nick to arrive I got to spend a little time with my favorite canine Daisy. Unfortunately she wasn’t doing to well. Something was wrong with her digestive system and the vets couldn’t tell what it was. She was terribly skinny and just not her usual, happy go lucky self. It was hard to see her like that and little did I know this would be the last time I would see her. She passed shortly after I returned to Arizona. I just want to provide my condolences here. She was honestly one of my favorite dogs and she will be greatly missed by all who knew her.

Before heading to Milwaukee, Nick had to stop back at his parents house and help his Dad out with a few things. Little did I know I’d get sucked into the manual labor as well, but after a fairly lazy week it felt pretty good to exert a little energy. We stacked some pallets and cleared a shit ton of brush. And once we were done we celebrated with a little Truck Pool. This was a new concept for me, but a brilliant one. Nick’s older brother lined the bed of his small pickup with a tarp and then clear plastic sheeting. Then he filled it with water and let it warm in the sun. It was the perfect size for three dudes and three beers. And the perfect end to a good days labor.

After wrapping things up we headed to Nick’s place in Milwaukee. We had some beers, did some laundry (which I desperately needed) and caught up. Later we caught dinner at one of my favorite places, the Palamino and then had more beers, then whiskey back at his place. Despite my long week and our long day we both managed to stay up pretty late and had some pretty good discussions. In the fall, when we return, we’ll be living in his upstairs apartment which I think will be great.

Then next morning after smoothies Nick took me to the airport and I was soon in an airplane soaring back towards Arizona. The first flight was a quick and uneventful venture to Denver. Landing in Denver I had a small layover and then I was called to walk out onto the tarmac where I boarded the smallest plane I have ever been in. It seated 19 and there was no crew, just the pilots. The propellers were deafening and as soon as we left the ground a small and solid curtain was drawn leaving the 15 of us to our own devices. The flight was very turbulent and surprisingly scary. I’m not very fearful of flying, but when you’re crossing a large mountain range and bouncing around like your on a trampoline your mind tends to think of all the horrible scenes you’ve seen in movies.

I felt like kissing the ground when we landed in Page, but I held in the urge and wandered to the tiny airport to figure out my shuttle. This would prove to be my biggest challenge. I had traveled from Milwaukee to Denver no problem, Denver to Page a little scary, but okay. A distance over 1200 miles in four hours not including my layover. The eight mile distance between the airport and my front door would take me the exact same amount of time.

So there is a shuttle service that is supposed to transport people around Page an the surrounding area. We’ve never ridden it before, but it appeared to be similar to any other public transport. This was not the case. While the bus arrived on time the driver was surprised to see me. She said she’s never picked anyone up at the airport before—really, a regular stop on your route? But she was nice. She told me I’d miss my transfer if I rode with her through her whole route so she’d take me directly to the transfer point. This was strange because it contradicted the schedule and because she was altering her route for me, her only passenger. But I figured she knew better. Before she dropped me off she called the other bus driver who would be my transfer to let her know I had already paid, but she didn’t answer and so she gave me a business card as a transfer slip. Okay? Then I waited. And waited. And waited. Over an hour later I found I had misread the schedule and they didn’t head to Greenehaven until the next cycle. Realizing this wasn’t your standard metro service I asked the driver of my route. She said she would be on a “free run” in an hour and she’d take me out then. And so I waited. And waited. And waited. In the hot sun, eight miles from home. Contemplating walking. When she came back she informed me it would be a little longer because she had to go pick up some kids. Is this a taxi service or a shuttle bus? Well I was getting pretty used to waiting and so I waited a little more and sure enough I was finally on the bus again after three hours of waiting. And after making a stop at Walmart and the lumberyard we were finally headed toward Greenehaven. I was the only one on the bus.

Four hours after landing eight miles from my front door I was finally home. I could have walked twice in that amount of time, but it was finally over. I patiently awaited Lindsay’s return from work.

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27 October 2012 Friendship, Memories, Traveling

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