14,000 miles later... it's story time!

[gonzalesna 1]

So, made a trip to the states back in December. They should make this a movie...

I'm a work-aholic at times, which is odd coming from me because I hate work, but I got up and went in to work before I left the base because I'm a dumbass. Then I departed base about 6 and a half hours before my plane was scheduled to leave.

I wait for the bus, it takes me to the train, and I get on. Simple enough.

So there I was, on a train lightly filled with quiet locals, when the doors open at a train station, and suddenly, I'm surrounded on all sides! they were everywhere! Noticing their uniforms, I could tell they weren't Americans! No! School children! Gossiping, loud, making jokes, laughing children of all ages. They piled in... they cornered me, leaving this quaint train ride at the station and replacing it with a rambunctious train that would make a clown car feel spacious. Suddenly, just as quickly as they had came, they all vanished.

Amid the shock, I managed to ask a gentleman my location. He pointed me to a map of the train line and stated that I had 2 more stops to go. I thanked him and waited the 2 stops. Upon my arrival of what I thought to be my first of 3 destinations, I thanked him again and removed myself from the train. As the train left, I began to notice that it seemed like a rather small area to be doing a train transfer... BLAST! I'd been hornswaggled! I was 2 stops too far! I quickly went to the other side of the station to catch a return train that would put me on the right path. To my amazement, the train traveling in the opposite direction was on the same set of tracks as the first one. But I was unable to switch tracks, as the pedestrian crosswalk went over the tracks and had a beam come down. It was a smaller version of the beams blocking cars from driving over train tracks, and I dared not cross it, for I was in a foreign country and feared such actions would place me in the unfortunate custody of the local bobbies. So I watched and waited, which unfortunately left me watching that train roll down the tracks without me. I then crossed the tracks and waited for the following train. I spent over an hour and a half sitting there pondering my mistakes and actions. "Oh, how could this be?" I thought. Oh well. Things happen for a reason. My reason? I asked the wrong person.

I made my 2 train changes without incident and walked into the airport at an agressive pace. I'd already missed my flight, but was aware of an existing flight through the same route a mere 2 hours later. The woman at the counter assisted me and got me a flight to San Francisco, arriving at approximately 11 AM. I informed LisaH and asked her to pass word to Squeak. Upon taking my seat, I immediately asked the stewardess for 10 bottles of Jack Daniel's and 5 cokes. She gave me a perplexed look, but I explained that it would save her the trouble of dealing with me drunk if she gave it all to me at once. She, of course, liked the idea and honored my request. I slept like a baby for the remainder of the flight.

I met with squeak for a bite down near pier 29 I believe. Not a bad meal, although clam chowder and beer don't mix all that well with a hangover. I rang McBeth as well during my brief stay in San Fraincisco, but to no avail, as she was working at the time.

I then traveled down to John Wayne Airport in Orange County California, where I was greeted by my mother. She had brought me a surprise, consisting of a steak from Olive Garden. Much to my dismay, the airline, too, had decided to surprise me. You see, they decided that it would be a hillariously entertaining moment if they send my bag from San Francisco back across the Pacific to Hawaii instead of sending it to Southern California. I. however, failed to find the amusement in the jest.

A week later, I made my way with my friend Sean to Colorado for his wedding. I must say, the first night, I had the best steak I've ever tasted in my life. 16 ounces of rare beef, and every bite was more delicious than it's predacessor. The rest of the time I was there, I was treated to home cooked meals, which was heaven compared to the typical eatings found at Camp Fuji's chow hall.

I made it out to the dropzone the day before we departed, getting on the first load, the day looked prominent. Forcasted 60 degrees in Denver in the early part of January. Oh, the gods must be looking down upon us today. But alas, it was short lived. For as we finished the labors of repacking our rigs, twas a windhold we were placed upon. For the rest of the day, the wind's grip was far too strong to break free from and at last, we were sent home with but a memory of the first jump.

Upon return to california, we were greeted by a wintery storm that blasted the four corners area. The drive, sometimes consisting of a road covered in a solid layer of ice, took 24 hours. The typical drive over the same route would be but a mere 15. We arrived safely however. I made my plane back to Japan the following day, and decided to take a bus instead. I would be getting off on the first stop the bus would make, so it would be hard to make a mistake similar to that of mine in my ventures in the opposite direction. I was wrong.

For I had fallen asleep. I was awakened by the driver asking to see my ticket. He informed me that we were nearly a half hour from my intended stop. Luckily, I knew of the next stop and got off there, taking the train back to Gotemba and the bus back up to the Base. Oh, sweet sweet lumpy military mattress! How I've missed thee. Never have I been so happy to see you.

The End.

Some people refrain from beating a dead horse. Personally, I find a myriad of entertainment value when beating it until it becomes a horse-smoothie.