People have different reactions when traveling to high elevation.

People also have different reactions to hearing about how great I feel when traveling to high elevation.

Fall Risk decided it would be good to spend her birthday in a place of high elevation. Doing high elevation things. Like climbing to even higher elevation.

I mean, I was there when Peru happened to her. But ok.

Rogue and I complied.

But when one of us was hit with a near instant migraine the moment we landed in Colorado. And then with various other symptoms of altitude sickness. I probably could’ve just expressed care and sympathy.

But I’ve met both of us. I know our levels of discomfort with expressions of care and sympathy.

And then when the other of us was also hit with sundry symptoms, it was not entirely necessary for me to reiterate that I, still, felt great.

But I did. Feel great.

Not especially great while climbing to even higher elevations. But still. Greater than both of them.

And not especially great at this spectacular lack of views on top of Pikes Peak.

What you’re looking at there? That’s the Nothing. That is what my nightmares are made of. Just one wrong move and you’re just plummeting off a 14,000 foot mountain.

Which maybe in some crazy way explains why they felt the need to post this sign in the bathrooms up there.

I just…I feel like if it’s bad enough that drinking the toilet water is the only option, it’s probably just time to call it a day and let the Nothing take you.

Manitou’s view wasn’t much more inspiring than Pike’s.

I mean, yeah we did that and whatever.

But just a really unreasonable number of steps just to see that mildly adequate view.

It also wasn’t particularly excellent when the mouse ran across my feet while I was minding my own business on the toilet sending messages to Rogue and Fall Risk about how great I felt. But I built this solid barrier to keep him from escaping the bathroom and eating through our snacks or cuddling up with us at night. So, it was fine.

So overall, I felt great. And since I was the only one of us who felt great, it felt important to keep reminding them. The ones with the altitude sicknesses. That I felt great.

And then Friday came. The day I was gonna return to my vermin-free home guarded by my cats and my beautiful mountains with acceptable amounts of oxygen.

Until American Airlines and Universe decided that I needed a little more adventure in my adventure. And began delaying my flight. Repeatedly. Until it became unlikely I would make my connection in Dallas. Forcing me to chat with Ashwin as I tried to avoid spending the night in Dallas, Texas. Because no one should ever have to spend the night in Dallas, Texas.

Rogue found options on Delta that would get me home on time.

Ashwin assured me that the ticket counter team would be able to get me on that Delta flight. And then told me how my kindness inspired them to strive for excellence.

The ticket counter team and I agreed that Ashwin was probably a robot. Because that is not normal human behavior.

The ticket counter team also assured me that Ashwin was full of shit, because they are not allowed to book flights on other airlines.

The ticket counter team suggested I call the 1800 number, because that is where the power lies. And if anyone could book me on another airline, it would be them.

They could not.

But after a long conversation, Shawnda expressed her full confidence in my ability to make a connection with a 6-minute layover.

Because anyone who has ever seen a plane anywhere knows that 6 minutes is more than enough time for a plane to land, taxi to the gate, and open up the doors. And for passengers to disembark and make their way to another gate.

So, anyway. Dallas at night is actual hell. Like, souls on fire hell.

American did spring for a $12 meal and $20 hotel room.

The only meal my $12 voucher would get me was some leftover Chik-fil-A chicken nuggets and a sweet tea. But I’d been trying to order a sweet tea all week, so it was nice to finally be in a place where they know what that is.

Took the hotel shuttle a solid hour and multiple pleading phone calls to make its way to the airport to pick me up.

But the hotel staff was quite pleasant once I arrived.

They handed me this key card for my room.

Universe just mocking the hell out of me at that point.

Didn’t sleep a single minute of sleep because my body refused to risk missing a 5am flight getting me the hell out of Dallas. Where it was still 87 degrees at 3am when those of us who’d been abandoned by American boarded our shuttle bus back to the airport.

Boarded the plane. Where they had me in seat 2A. Which is apparently the seat designated for the person required to commiserate with the flight attendant who hates American as much as you do.

The captain came on to introduce himself and his crew and was immediately confused. “My name is Ry-uh…Mark.”

No, no, that’s fine. I’m sure that’s fine.

And because I’m sitting right outside the cockpit door, I can hear the entire conversation that followed. Which amounted to, “Shit’s about to get real bad.”

That’s when flight attendant Mike snatched one of the flight cards from seat 1A and started fanning himself with it. And then the rest of us did the same. Because the air conditioning just stopped.

Nope. Still fine. There are all kinds of benefits from saunas. I am absolutely not getting off of this plane. Everything is totally fine.

But then co-pilot starts asking about an air card. Insisting we can’t close the door without an air card. And yelling at the ground crew to get us an air card. Somebody bring us a damn air cars. Initially I thought this was some sort of card that provided us the actual air. So I was inclined to agree with him.

But after about 20 minutes of waiting, captain Ry-uh…Mark talked him down and we decided we could ahead without the air. Or wifi. Or whatever.

At that point I just really didn’t care. Zero air. Zero oxygen. Zero communication. Whatever. Just get me to Charlotte. So they can get me to Roanoke. So I can be back in my home that I will never ever leave again.

We did finally take off. Without the air card.

And while I really just wanted to nap a bit on the flight, flight attendant Mike wanted to chat about the heat. And all the places he’d had to go to the past two weeks. And this really delicious hydration water he found.

On the bright side, being awake for the entire flight meant I got to almost watch the sunrise.

Got to Charlotte and somehow managed to find my way onto my next flight.

We’re just gonna ignore whatever that is filling the cabin. Smoke. Poison. Mind-altering chemical to force us into the simulation. I. Do. Not. Care.

And then I finally saw them.

The Blue Ridges.

Those are mine.

I’m never leaving them again. You can’t make me.

Airline CEOs are probably why Colorado has to tell people not to drink the toilet water.