Out and Back to SFO

At the completion of my simulator training in Atlanta, I wanted to go somewhere that was close, easy, and free. San Francisco is far enough away to make flying for an hour much more advantageous over sitting in traffic for 6 hours one way. I had not been there since the infamous San Francisco marathon of 2009, when my father believed that the course would not have many hills. As I limped by AT&T park in pain to collapse at the finish line, I contemplated the truth to his statement.

Compared to LA, San Francisco is much more densely populated and significantly more expensive. So, if we could help it, we were trying to go to SFO in the morning and be back in LAX by the end of the day. Even airport hotels (with my airline discount) were running around $160.

Upon arrival, we took the BART to the embarcadero. We had no specific destination in mind. We simply walked by the piers and watched the sea lions throw their fat bodies at each other for a bit before making our way inland.
It was at this point, that Nicole, now at a 45 degree angle to the street below her, suggested that we have a destination instead of climbing up a street that probably required sherpas. I have always had an unexplained ability to find my way around San Francisco. I assured Nicole that it would only be two more blocks. (Granted there was a 1000 ft gain in elevation over this time period, but I was technically correct). After watching a battle between incompetent traffic cops and incompetent tourists take place at Lombard Street, we summoned an Uber to take us to Golden Gate park.

There, we rested our legs for a bit and just looked at the flowers and observed the local San Franciscans do San Franciscan things. Energized again, we began a walk to Alamo square to look at the row homes featured in numerous tv and movies. From there we called another Uber to drop us off at a hotel in the financial district. I recall when I was just 17, my dad and I went to the top of one of the downtown hotels for a sprite and looked out over the Trans-America building. I miraculously found the same hotel six years ago after the marathon. I attempted the same feat on this trip. We walked into the hotel, took the elevator to the top floor, and well . . . almost. There was a bar, but not the one I remember. We slowly drank a couple beers while we charged our phones and took in the view. I listed for our return flight while enjoying the view you see here. Despite narrowly getting on the flight to LAX, we even got seats next to each other. Not bad for a day trip to San Francisco.

Initial Sim Training in ATL

Prior to getting assigned Atlanta for training, my only other experience there was going 70mph in the carpool lane enroute to Orlando. Unfortunately for me, there were not many opportunities to explore the area beyond Hapeville (the town on the north edge of the airport). While I could tell you all about the nearest Schlotzky's Deli, Which Wich, Jimmy John's, or Pit Boss BBQ, I could have been anywhere in the country. My parents, eager to use their own nonrev privileges, listed on a flight from MCO to ATL for a long weekend.

The problem with my sim training session was that I was assigned 4am. I say assigned because being the second to last person in seniority in my class, I simply took what was left. Honestly, I didn't mind because I was just happy to get out of Salt Lake City for a few days and then see someplace new. Having just completed an intense three days with early morning sessions with an instructor who had had a reputation for making people cry, I was a bit groggy for my
parents arrival. I had a slight surge in energy from the ORIGINAL Chick-Fil-A in Hapeville. There is sit-down waiter/waitress service at this particular Chick-Fil-A, but there was a bit of a wait and my parents did not know how fascinated I was with a Chick-Fil-A where you can order a chicken sandwich with a pickle from the table! After lunch, we went to Jimmy Carter's presidential library and then the Atlanta botanical gardens. My body wanted to sleep. Each park bench throughout the gardens got to know my bottom. I used my airline discount to get my parents a nice hotel in downtown Atlanta. The next day we went to Stone Mountain and hiked to the top.

For me, I am confused by Stone Mountain. It is a monument essentially celebrating treason against the United States, but ok... I'm not from the south and do not understand the whole confederate pride thing. To their credit, it is a pretty area, though. After Stone Mountain, we began a search for another hotel. My folks are very active and wanted to find a place near a walking trail or something scenic to run near. We eventually settled on a place near Suwanee, Georgia. Better yet it was a Holiday Inn Express and we all know what that means: cinnamon rolls! The following morning, we went for a run in a nearby park and later went to the Chattahoochee recreation area.









It was nice to see this side of Atlanta as opposed to the cold and dark environment of the simulator. Little did I know then, the next week would be very intense. But by the time I actually got to the point where I was being tested, I was very at ease and it may have been one of the easiest checkrides of my career. 3 and 1/2 weeks of ground school and 4 weeks of simulator training all built up to this one day, so the preparation was there. It was just exhausting and I am glad it's over. Having a short break in there helped.

New Adventures

If you are familiar with my other blog, Passports & Pepto Bismol, you know I enjoy traveling to exciting locales like Cambodia, Paris, or the Cook Islands. This is not that blog.

I have recently completed training to be an airline pilot flying the Canadair Regional Jet. If you ever got on a flight and scoffed at the lack of overhead bin space, you are already familiar with the CRJ. Many people think the life of an airline pilot is glamorous or that we make lots of money. Neither of these is true, but that doesn't mean I can't try to have a little fun with it. Thus, I created this blog.

Sure, everyone and their mother can tell you about their favorite street cafe in Paris or the best hookah lounges in Dubai. Can they tell you about the best Thai food in Fargo, North Dakota? Or why not Minot? I think not.

These are the forgotten lands of America and abroad -- the flyover states, the non-spring break parts of Mexico, and a town in Canada called Regina. To many, they are the butt of jokes, but no longer. My airline flies over 1800 flights a day to 200 different destinations. Because it is a regional airline, its primary purpose is to go to these lesser know places and connect them to the major hubs like Minneapolis, Chicago, or San Francisco. 

My job is to document the things I observe and the places I go. I will attempt to be as unbiased as possible, but once winter gets into full swing and I'm stranded in Chicago, all bets are off.