A Good Samaritan & typical Denver

So, I'll give you three guesses where we are, and the first two don't count.  Yes, that's right, we're sitting in the Denver airport, and our flight is supposed to leave in forty minutes, but there's just the little problem of the the 3 1/2 hour delay.  Are you kidding me?  Our flight was already supposed to get into Orlando after 11pm!  Of course, I'm trying to put a positive spin on things so I point out that even if we get in at after 2 am, it will only feel like 11 pm to us since we're on West Coast time.  Of course, Becky points out that makes sense until you consider the fact that we woke up around 3:30 am Mountain time to make sure we made our flight out of Denver.  The flight that is now delayed over 3 hours.  She's such a realist.  But hey, we would have made it even if it had been on time.  I don't even fly that much, but every time I go through Denver, it seems like I get delayed.  Airlines, quit using Denver as your hub.  How about Sacramento instead?  Maybe not so centrally located, but a lot less thunderstorms (and closer to us as well).  

At least everyone (except me) got some sleep in the car.  Maybe I'll get some sleep in the airport.  Yeah right, and maybe the Cubs will win the Series this year (sorry, Mike).  

Oh yes, the good Samaritan.  So we got on the road from Travis and Alicia's house at around 4:30, and we had to stop for an errand on the way out of town so we left just a little later than we had planned, but it was pretty close to on schedule.  That delay proved to be exactly what we were supposed to do.  As we were making the turn off from I-84 to I-80, the road was blocked off by highway patrol.  Not knowing what was going on, I pulled over and a guy in a big truck who was also turning around stopped and opened his window.  He told us that there was a big rig on fire on the freeway and they were calling in Hazmat crews and the whole 9 yards.  It would be several hours before we could get through that way. 

            “You need to go east?” he asked. 

            “Yeah, we’re trying to make Denver by this evening,” I responded. 

            “Follow me, I know a back way,” he told us.

           

So we followed the guy in the big truck the other way on I-80 to Coalville, Utah, and then he led us through the town and out into the middle of nowhere.  Another big truck ended up behind us, but I didn’t think much of it until our pied piper led us onto a dirt road in the boondocks and the other truck stayed behind us.  I didn’t really think the guy was a mass murder who had called an accomplice to follow us and block our escape if we tried to turn around, but I have to admit that the idea did cross my mind. 

After a couple of miles on the dirt road, we came to a real road again.  The guy stopped, and he needed to turn left, but he told us to turn right and we would end up near a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Evanston, Wyoming and we would see the freeway from there.  True to his word, about 10 or 12 miles down the road, we found the KFC and hopped back onto I-80.  For the first few miles we had the road to ourselves since the freeway was closed to the west of where we were.  I’m sure he will never see this, but I apologize to man in the big truck for even considering that he might be a mass murder.  At the time we thought he saved our trip, and if our flight had been on time, he probably would have.

We made good time through Wyoming, even though we hit a big rainstorm between Laramie and Cheyenne.  It rained on and off and became a torrential downpour for a while as we drew close to Denver.  Sorry, California, but I don't think there's a drought

out here. 

So here we are at the airport.  Our flight is now supposed to get in at 2 am, but hey, I had time to write this post, and we have five day passes at Disney World; we were going to have to pace ourselves anyway.