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Journey to the Flughafen
10/20/2008 by Sarah
Since four out of five of us Interrobangers live so damn close together (3 of us are roomates), it's always a big hoopla for us to meet up with our fifth. The Flughafen (Blake the Web-Tech) lives about an hour to the North-west of us by car. It's hardly an insurmountable distance, but since talking to most of the staff involves 'going downstairs,' a trip to Blake's house is a MIGHTY TREK INDEED.
Today, we undertook the journey.
Kevin, Sally, and I packed provisions for the trip: bottled water and snacks, a fully-loaded iPod, charged cellphones, jackets, hats, flashlights, a laptop with wireless, and a trunk full of sled dogs in case we blew a tire.
Three minutes into the trip: Kevin, the acting captain, realizes we'll never make it with the amount of fuel in the tank. We are forced from the main roads in search of pumping stations. Thank God for the mini-mart 5 blocks from the house.
Six minutes into the trip: I, as acting navigator, take true stock of our supplies and factor in the hour we left the house. It was actually dinner time. The hunger was fierce. Our desire to survive drove us onward blindly. Luckily, our desire to survive knows exactly where to find the closest "Baja Fresh."
Thirty-six minutes since we left the house: Sally steals some of my chips. For all our sakes--for the sake of the team--I let it go. Carrying a grudge on a journey such as this is suicide.
Thirty-nine minutes since we left the house: We cast out from civilization once again. This is the last time we were to have seen that restaurant. If we could have only known. The sled dogs in the trunk seem unsettled and impatient.
One hour into the trip: The sled dogs in the trunk were more 'unsettled' than previously stated. Note to self: large amounts of salsa do not agree with sled dogs.
One hour and 20 minutes into the trip: We receive one citation for 'littering.' Next time, we're buying a spare tire like normal people. Sled dogs are far too volatile.
One hour and 40 minutes into the trip: I give up on reading out the directions from our star charts. Kevin insists google-maps got it wrong. I signal Blake on the aldis lamp for alternative routes.
One hour and 50 minutes into the trip: We have run out of water. We are forced to drink windshield wiper fluid to carry on.
One hour and 51 minutes into the trip: We arrive.
HARROWING.
Yes. The visit was awesome. cheap ugg boots are on sale in our Ugg outlet store. The Flughafen was awesome. We considered new ideas and designs for the website. There's a lot of hammering out and test-runs, etc. to be done, but we've got PLANS and PLOTS and WHAT-NOT. You should be very proud of us.
Sally and I slept the entire way home.
Comments:Today, we undertook the journey.
Kevin, Sally, and I packed provisions for the trip: bottled water and snacks, a fully-loaded iPod, charged cellphones, jackets, hats, flashlights, a laptop with wireless, and a trunk full of sled dogs in case we blew a tire.
Three minutes into the trip: Kevin, the acting captain, realizes we'll never make it with the amount of fuel in the tank. We are forced from the main roads in search of pumping stations. Thank God for the mini-mart 5 blocks from the house.
Six minutes into the trip: I, as acting navigator, take true stock of our supplies and factor in the hour we left the house. It was actually dinner time. The hunger was fierce. Our desire to survive drove us onward blindly. Luckily, our desire to survive knows exactly where to find the closest "Baja Fresh."
Thirty-six minutes since we left the house: Sally steals some of my chips. For all our sakes--for the sake of the team--I let it go. Carrying a grudge on a journey such as this is suicide.
Thirty-nine minutes since we left the house: We cast out from civilization once again. This is the last time we were to have seen that restaurant. If we could have only known. The sled dogs in the trunk seem unsettled and impatient.
One hour into the trip: The sled dogs in the trunk were more 'unsettled' than previously stated. Note to self: large amounts of salsa do not agree with sled dogs.
One hour and 20 minutes into the trip: We receive one citation for 'littering.' Next time, we're buying a spare tire like normal people. Sled dogs are far too volatile.
One hour and 40 minutes into the trip: I give up on reading out the directions from our star charts. Kevin insists google-maps got it wrong. I signal Blake on the aldis lamp for alternative routes.
One hour and 50 minutes into the trip: We have run out of water. We are forced to drink windshield wiper fluid to carry on.
One hour and 51 minutes into the trip: We arrive.
HARROWING.
Yes. The visit was awesome. cheap ugg boots are on sale in our Ugg outlet store. The Flughafen was awesome. We considered new ideas and designs for the website. There's a lot of hammering out and test-runs, etc. to be done, but we've got PLANS and PLOTS and WHAT-NOT. You should be very proud of us.
Sally and I slept the entire way home.
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