Chapter 12

Friday, November 23, 2001

Randy had really come to dislike flying – maybe even hate it. Not that he feared it, because he didn't. But, if given the chance, he would really rather travel by almost any other mode of transportation, which included pack mule – not that he'd ever ridden a pack mule, but in his imagination it had to be better than being stuffed like a sardine into a can full of strangers. As far as he was concerned, getting a ticket was ungodly expensive and complicated, getting on a plane was a crapshoot at best, the airline treated coach class passengers like cattle on the way to slaughter, kept them in the dark about what was happening, and fed them shit if they fed them at all. It was a miracle if you left on time, and a greater miracle if you actually arrived at the destination on time – and a still greater miracle if your checked luggage arrived at the same place and time you did. Beyond that, the bastards had their hands out every time you turned around, expecting you to pay through the nose for the privilege of being treated that way. Randy had not been on a plane since the September 11 attack on the World Trade Center, but the horror stories he'd heard on the news about the increased security and check-in waits made airline travel even less appealing.

Randy would have been thrilled to have been able to take the time to drive from Spearfish Lake to Flagstaff. There was much to see this time of year, or any time, and there was the feeling of actually going somewhere, rather than the disorientation at the speed of airline travel. However, given the time off allowed for this trip, there was no other option than to fly. Worse, he was going to have to fly other trips in the next few weeks, so the odds of something getting fucked up royally somewhere along the way approached near certainty.

Several days before, when decent snow had finally fallen around Spearfish Lake and looked like it might stay for a while, Duane had called while he and Phil were headed back with the dogs, to say he'd definitely be going to Crystal's wedding. He'd asked Randy to set up tickets and such for him, and Randy had agreed – it was no more work for three than for two. With that, Randy had called Josh to ask if he and Tiffany were going to go with them; Josh told him that he and Tiffany hadn't made their minds up yet and wouldn't be able to for a few days. However, the odds seemed against it, so Josh told Randy that if he and Tiffany did decide to go they'd make their own travel plans. As of breakfast on Wednesday morning, they'd still not made up their minds. It looked like they'd be staying home but kicking it around over Thanksgiving might change their minds.

In any case, Randy had already made the arrangements by then. Like anything else with the airlines, it was frustrating and incomprehensible. It turned out that Duane had been right – there was one hell of a great rate for flights to Las Vegas, but only from Chicago. Of course, flying to Chicago from Camden was a touch more expensive than flying from Chicago to Las Vegas, which made things look a lot less appealing. That set Randy to searching the hard way. It was especially frustrating as they didn't have broadband Internet at the Clark Construction office yet, so everything had to be done by dial-up, which was especially slow when dealing with the very slow airline search website. Finally, Randy just got to the point where he sent off his query, went back to work on the Blair gym materials or whatever it was he was working on, and a few minutes later checked in on the computer. If it had gone through the next of its interminable stages, he'd set up for the next stage and press on. At least it didn't take any of his attention.

After most of a day, Randy had worked it out. There were no direct flights from Camden to either Las Vegas or Phoenix, but there was a one-stop price with a plane change at Minneapolis-St. Paul to Phoenix that was a pretty decent price. Randy made a printout of that page and went back to searching. After several hours, that flight still was about the best deal, both in terms of price and time. But, since there was the plane change, which increased the odds of things going wrong, Randy decided to check on flying from Minneapolis rather than Camden. After all, it was about the same distance as Chicago and the traffic getting there was nowhere near as bad. The flight from MSP to Phoenix was considerably more expensive than the flight from Camden. Wondering what the hell that was all about, Randy went back to his printout from earlier, to discover that the Minneapolis-Phoenix leg was on the same airplane! Go figure...

Conceding that being stuck on a layover in Minneapolis-St. Paul was slightly less unappealing than on one in Chicago, Randy went ahead and booked that trip out of Camden, wishing he could just drive the damn trip and the whole airline industry would go straight to hell.

Thus it was that Randy and Nicole pulled up at the battered old mobile home beside the Run-8 Kennels dog barn at 3:45 AM, an hour that was early even for roosters and raft guides. Josh and Tiffany had lived in the mobile home for years, but when Don Bailey's crew built their new house the year before, they'd moved the mobile home to near the dog barn to serve as a combination office and quarters for a dog handler. Duane had said at the breakfast table that it seemed pretty luxurious, considering he spent most of his year living in a sleeping bag under the stars.

In spite of being a raft guide, Duane wasn't really awake when Randy and Nicole arrived, but then, neither were they. Duane got into the back seat of Nicole's Chrysler, carrying only a small barrel bag. "No checked luggage, right?" Randy said.

"Oh shit, no," Duane yawned. "No way, I know better. Besides, I didn't have clothes for the wedding either here or in Flag, so I had Dad UPS them to Canyon Tours."

"Right, we used UPS, too," Randy said. "It's more expensive, but you're sure it's going to get there. I didn't want the airline losing something. You remember Myleigh, don't you?"

"Yeah, sure," he yawned again. "She was on that trip last spring. She's something else, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Randy said. "Last year the airlines did a number on her favorite harp that you wouldn't believe. She'd have lost it for sure if Trey hadn't driven to Montgomery, Alabama from Kansas City and found it for her. I think that has something to do with why they're getting married." There was more to it than that, and Randy didn't know the whole story, but that was the gist of it.

"Fucking airlines," Duane snorted. "I'm going to UPS the stuff right back to Dad when I'm done with it. It's carry-on for me anymore if I have to fly at all."

"I knew you were a man after my own tastes," Randy said. "How about if we stop at the Short Stop out on the highway and tank up on coffee before we get moving?"

"Works for me," Duane agreed, and yawned again. "We started night training this week, and there have been nights that I haven't even gotten to bed at this hour. My internal clock is screwed up royally, and I'm afraid I may have to cork off on you now and then."

"No big deal, so long as I stay awake as far as Camden," Randy said. "At least Nicole and I got a decent night's sleep. We went to bed pretty early."

"I may fall asleep on you too," Nicole added. "I'm still a little wasted from yesterday." What she left unsaid was she had a moderate hangover, since she'd switched to screwdrivers once the wine ran out. "Did you have a good Thanksgiving, Duane? I didn't think about it but we could have had you over."

"Oh, no problem," Duane said. "Josh and Tiffany invited me over to her parents, and Phil and Brandy invited me over to Jennifer's. The timing was such that I could do them both. Boy, Blake sure puts on a heck of a feed, doesn't he?"

"We've never been there for a holiday," Randy said. "But we have other times when he gets carried away. That guy can cook, can't he?"

"I just stood back and watched. I honestly think raft guides could learn about efficiency from him. He makes it all look so damn easy."

Nicole groaned inwardly, and it wasn't from the hangover. After her day from hell just yesterday ... Blake may have been in a class of his own as a cook, but this news was almost too much to take.

They stopped at the cluster of highway stores at the Central Avenue crossing, loaded up on coffee, and Randy continued south toward Camden, sipping at his coffee as he went. Soon, he heard snoring from the back seat, and then Nicole joined in. He finished his coffee while they were well short of the airport, and since Nicole wasn't using hers he swiped it and polished it off despite the cream and sugar. It was enough to get him to the airport.

The check-in was about as bad as Randy had expected. Since the tickets had been bought and paid for, getting the boarding passes was the work of an instant, which was about the only thing that went quickly. The Camden Airport was still getting used to the new security procedures, and getting through them was slow, in spite of the early morning hour. They still had quite a bit of time to kill, and decided to spend some of it getting breakfast. That may have been a mistake; it cost Randy about three times what it would have cost him at the Spearfish Lake Cafe, for a meal that was neither a third the size nor a third the quality. It was to be expected from the airlines; they knew that when they had you over a barrel they could really stick it to you, and they did.

For whatever reason, the flight to Minneapolis-St. Paul left on time and got there on time; it was quick enough that Nicole and Duane barely got to sleep before they woke up; Randy only got about a chapter read of the W.E.B. Griffin book he'd brought along to kill time. They hustled on over to check in for the flight to Phoenix; now they had time to kill again. Somehow, both Nicole and Duane managed to fall asleep sitting up in the hard, uncomfortable seats in the terminal. With that for inspiration Randy was tempted to join them but didn't want to risk missing the flight, so he managed to work through several more chapters of the book before they were finally called for boarding.

Since it was pretty clear that Duane was going to be sleeping most of the way to Phoenix – for which Randy couldn't blame him – and Nicole seemed likely to do it too, Randy wound up in the window seat. For whatever reason that was never made clear, they sat on the ramp for a long time, and were a half hour or so behind schedule before they finally got under way. At least, if they were late on this leg it would be tolerable.

One of the few things Randy could say that he liked about flying was looking out the window. Although the wing blocked his view to some extent, he enjoyed looking out this time, too. It was daylight, now, and once they got a ways away from the airport it was clear underneath them. They flew right over the high country west of Denver, Randy guessed; things were pretty covered with snow but it was still interesting to look down and see the landscape. At one point he could pick out I-70, where he'd been once, on his way back from his first Canyon trip a few years before. The scenery had been spectacular, and the fall foliage had been just coming on, which added to the sights. He'd made a mental note to spend some more time in the high country, preferably with Nicole, but the chance had never come up. Maybe someday...

The half-hour-late start meant they were about half an hour late arriving in Phoenix, but it was still early in the day. Picking up the pre-arranged rental car was more messing around than Randy had hoped for, but soon they were heading north up I-17 toward Flagstaff. Randy and Nicole had never been this way before, and it turned out that Duane hadn't, either; but the high country and the scenery surrounding them rather surprised them in spite of everything. It was shortly after noon when they checked into the motel out at the interchange that Randy had reserved, then headed over to the Canyon Tours office. At least this time, Randy could find the way; he'd been there before.

They headed inside to find Dan sitting behind the desk. Randy had run with him on his first trip a couple years before, and Nicole had reported when she returned from her raft trip the previous summer that he'd had to be helicoptered out of the Canyon after collapsing with a brain tumor. Duane knew a lot more about it than Randy did, and was the first to speak: "Dan, how are you doing? I haven't heard much of anything since I left for the winter."

"I'm pretty well recovered," Dan said. "But I don't think they're going to let me run again. At least it looks that way. Al and Karin are training me to run the office, but it looks like my river days are about over."

"Shit, that's a bummer," Duane said. "But I'll bet Michelle is happy that she doesn't get stuck in the office."

"Oh, I'm sure she is, but she's too kind to rub my nose in it," Dan shook his head. "Actually, it's not all that bad. At least, I'm getting paid through the winter, and since the doctors won't let me drink, I'm actually saving a little bit of money. Are you planning on being back in the spring?"

"First of April or so, maybe a little after, it sorta depends," Duane told him. "I'm pretty much going to be in Alaska in March, so that keeps me out until then. I take it Al is going to be short boatmen, as usual."

"As far as I know," Dan said, "Especially with me not able to help out. Al has hinted a couple times that there might be some changes in the wind, but as far as I know there's nothing solid at this point. I'm sure he's going to need everyone who can come back, though."

"Well, that's good to hear," Duane sighed.

"Yeah, there's always the river," Dan said. "Randy, Nicole, you're looking good. I guess I haven't seen either one of you since Al and Karin's wedding last spring."

"I missed you when I ran again in the late summer," Nicole told him. "You were in the hospital by then."

"Yeah, it was a while longer than I wanted to be," he sighed. "It would have been longer yet, if Jeff and his wife hadn't taken me in. I'm still living with them."

Randy remembered Jeff, the company's elderly bus driver and handyman, who'd been all but shanghaied into taking the second half of the wedding trip last spring. Al had more than once referred to him as the glue that really held the company together. "Taking you in was nice of them," Randy said.