Getting Here, Eugene

 It's been five years. 

But as soon as I stepped outside of the airport, the smells came back to me. The magical year I spent here, getting better physically, mentally, and in my soul.

Getting here. There's been some naysayers, not saying who, but mostly folks wishing me well on my "adventure." I like that category. It's not a trip or vacation or a bucket list. It's life plus.

I took the Michigan Flyer to the airport, which takes about 2 hours. I've always had luck in the past grabbing a curbside cart. No dice this time. I left the bulk of my stuff by the bus to look for one (remember I'm doing this solo, one of the negatives is no one to watch your stuff). I ended up renting a cart for SEVEN DOLLARS! A little shocked, but again a necessary expense. I rolled up to Southwest counter where the agent said you can't fly with that. My heart dropped but I collected myself. The bike policy states I can. She read it through in front of me, jumped over the counter with a measuring tape, and calculated the dimensions. Okay, she said 

Whoa!

Then she weighed it. I'd done this at home in the garage but wasn't sure how accurate. 49 on the nose, just like my scale at home. So all set. I had to check 2 pieces. More $$, but necessary. A total of $80. 

Afterwards, I took a breather before TSA. Which turned out being the easiest experience ever. Nothing flagged!

My first leg was to Denver with a very short layover, then onto Eugene. The time change would make arrival like 1 a.m. my body's time. I collected the bike at oversized luggage and the worker took the fragile stickers seriously. He ever so gently unloaded it and slid it down to me. 

At Sam's house I had to unpack it a little to get my sleeping bag on top for cushioning and everything seemed fine. TSA also did a good job handling it for their inspection. 

So far, pleased by flying experience across country and so happy to be here.