I never know what a given day might bring in my life. I've always been a planner and I do still make some great lists, but the chances that these lists make it to game time or when the actual doing happens are often slim, at least in winter and especially at events.
Back in early February I loaded up my pickup (rental), grabbed everything the team could possibly need or want, and drove West to Mammoth, California for a halfpipe and slopestyle contest. I met the teams as they came together from camps in Colorado and contests in Europe. As often happens in winter, flights proved a challenge to getting everyone to the first day of practice, but most figured out a way to get there, even if late.
On that Monday night I learned that the halfpipe snowboard team had finally arrived in Reno, but their bags had not. They'd been rerouted out of Amsterdam on KLM to Chicago instead of Seattle. They were put on an American Airlines flight Chicago to Reno and made it. Their bags may or may not have gone to Seattle, may have been lost by KLM in Amsterdam, but when I called Delta (affiliated with KLM) they said the bags were no longer in their possession. I called our favorite Delta guy in Utah who put a flag on the one bag we really needed, the snowboard of an athlete, but he told me the bag was probably in the air and we wouldn't know its location until it landed. The plan was that the athlete's board would be stopped, based on the flag, and the coaches' bags would be put on a United flight from Reno to San Francisco to Mammoth, arriving once the practice we needed the athlete's board for was already over.
So I waited. I called the Reno baggage desk and told them to call me AS SOON AS the bag arrived in Reno, which we were told first "it definitely will be coming to Reno". Upon further inspection and more calls with Janet The Bag Lady (saved in my phone and the coach's as such), it was changed to be "probably arriving in Reno at 6:30pm Tuesday". So at 7:00 I frantically paced the base lodge in Mammoth, figuring out who would be the one to drive to Reno if it arrived that night or what the next options would be.
At 7:20 my phone rang, Janet was off for the day but her replacement was happy to ask if I was "Mrs. Josey" ("Sure! Yes! That's me!") and tell me the bag had arrived. The baggage office would close at 10pm and with a 3 hour drive I couldn't make it that evening, so I planned to be there when the office opened Wednesday morning.
Wednesday I was on the road at 6:00, enjoying a beautiful sunrise and some great satellite radio when I was pulled over for the first time in my life and got my first speeding ticket from the ugliest cop I've ever seen who kept talking to me about his life and what my dreams and goals are. "Well, to get to the airport, honestly. Practice is at 2 and I need this snowboard". When I finally shook the goon, I was in Reno before the office opened, so I spent 15 minutes in Trader Joe's lapping the free coffee stand and filling my cart with the essentials: 2 6-packs, a case of wine, and cinnamon.
The baggage claim office wasn't open so I went to check in at the opposite end of the airport where the rudest Alaskan Airlines attendant passed me off to American and the conversation was less-than optimistic: "Hi, I was just at the baggage claim office and they're not open but I was told they opened now" "Well, yes 10:00. Or...[looking at flight schedule on computer] definitely by 11:20" "Ok, or how about NOW? Like I was told?" "Yes, they should be there soon, or by 11:30."
Back at the baggage office I found an employee in the ticket office, and my name written (Mrs. Josey in most cases) in notes all over the desk. She was new and didn't know where the bag was but did confirm that she heard about my bag. We walked back down (at the opposite end) to the check-in desk. As we pulled up, three women were maneuvering a cart with 3 black bags and the priceless green US Team bag perched on top...!!
"THAT'S IT! All those are mine! I'll take them all! And that wax table!" They told me they only had my name on the one bag so we would have to get some confirmation numbers... I called the coach and it only took another half hour before I was sprinting through the airport alone, pushing a baggage card with 3 board bags to load them alone into my truck and then try to lift the wax table into the truck alone (easier said than done). No speeding tickets on the way back, but 3 hours later, as the halfpipe crew headed up the hill to practice, at 2:00 on the dot, I rolled into the hotel, threw the green bag out of the truck, graciously took the bottle of wine they gave me as thanks (since they still didn't know about the speeding ticket and that wine wasn't really equal to my troubles) and all went on their way.
And somehow, mostly because of the madness of my life, I still haven't opened that wine...
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