I had that happen once in Denver, there was a strong cross wind, and the first time around I don’t think we touched down. I think we got about 15’ from touch-down and the pilot hammered the throttle and called it off. We had to circle for 20 minutes to get back in the queue and the second time was the charm but we did hit the tarmac at what felt like a 20° angle.
I’ve never experienced any major turbulence. I had one flight where it did get choppy enough that one passenger who didn’t heed the ‘buckle up’ sign hit her head on the ceiling.
My stepdad had an interesting one. He lived in Cincinnati and flew to Frankfurt for work all the time. In those days CVG was a big Delta hub and he could almost always get a nonstop flight. But this one particular trip he couldn’t: he had to change in ATL. Bummer, but ok.
So he flies from CVG-ATL, waits out the 2 hour layover or whatever it was, boards the ATL-FRA flight and after they were in the air they announced that due to exorbitant fuel prices in ATL they had only put enough fuel on the aircraft to make it to their closest hub: CVG. They would land in CVG and get sufficient fuel for the ocean crossing and then fly faster than normal to still get into FRA on time. And that’s just what happened: something like 5 hours after he left CVG he was back on the ground at CVG!
They fueled up the plane, and continued on to FRA. Obviously he had no idea that would happen, and even he had, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it as they did not go to the gate at CVG so there would have been no way for him to board the ATL-FRA flight in CVG. But sort of funny/ironic nonetheless.
Last month I was flying through Denver and had my first missed landing. We got very close to touchdown and then the engines fired up and we went around before landing.
A thunderstorm popped up right over the Denver airport once when I was on my way somewhere. We circled for a while and then the captain came on and said we had to divert to Grand Junction to get more fuel. We ended up getting to our gate 10 minutes after my connecting flight left. Ended up spending the night in Denver and joining the meeting I was supposed to be at, via Zoom.
I had that happen to me on a flight from Zurich - had to land in Bangor for refueling. I didn’t have to worry about missing a connection, but it did get us in fairly late when they had fewer workers at passport control so it was a long wait to get stamped. After that experience I went back to taking morning flights back to the US.
Flight takes off in about 4 hours. I haven’t packed yet. My son is sick, my backup ride is sick, so not sure how I’m getting to the airport - probably Lyft.
Going to try to fit everything into a carry on, which, ugh. It will end up getting converted to a check in because I try to board close to the end. I am still doing the 100 day dress challenge, on day 77, so at least packing will be pretty light.
And apparently I threw out my travel liquids bag. I have too many specialized face washes and creams to just use whatever the hotel has. Guess I’m checking.
Flying out tomorrow to Point A, driving to Point B, back Sunday evening and fly out again on Monday on a business trip to Point C, though I am packed for the entire week in case something goes wrong with the Sunday flight resulting in me having to fly from Point B directly to Point C.
This one time I recall flying transcontinental, and the plane crashed onto this island. Everyone had a super interesting back story. The plane fell in two pieces, and both groups found each other. There was some strange shit on that island I tell you what. Like there were these others, but eventually we made friends with them. And there were some polar bears, never did figure out wtf was going on with them. There was this bunker and some dudes who just kept punching the same code into an old school computer. There was this really confusing shit with a dude named I think Jacob. It lasted for years on the island, long enough to slowly figure out everyone’s backstory. Them we finally got rescued, but somehow still wanted to go back to the island. And it turns out it had been a dream the whole time and the ending had been given no thought. I’d tell you more but I fear I’ve lost you.
I have literally flown in airplanes since i was a babe in arms, and despite some exciting flights, i have no fear of flying. I get more anxious when I’m a passenger in a car and the pavement is wet, and i keep imagining the car is hydroplaning.
I guess once, when we came in for a landing and a gust hit the plane and it tipped to one side, i was afraid. The pilot aborted that landing, so my fear was brief, as we were safely back in the air pretty quickly, and the second attempt at landing was uneventful. And of course the time the engine caught on fire was frightening. Maybe i was too young to fully understand the risks when that happened, though.
But mostly, flying is a mixture of mild physical discomfort and the joy of being aloft. I always have a sense of wonder as the land drops away, and the earth turns into a map. I tend to prefer puddle-jumpers if the flight isn’t too long, because they stay at lower altitudes so the view is better.
