I have the girls their "last" hug and kiss until Spring, dropped them off at the neighbors and Rachel and I slowly navigated the icy Georgia roads. The snow started the previous evening, then the freezing rain fell for a few hours creating a skating rink on Georgia's Highways. It was slushy by our house, but the further north we drove the ice got harder and thicker. Here's the problem, Georgia doesn't plow. They don't even treat the roads. The only snow plows the City of Atlanta owns were at the airport that evening. I believe they own 10 or less.
The main highway that ran to the airport was closed due to ice so we were put on a different highway. One lane out of three on the other highway was sort of cleared but still had bumpy and rough areas of ice. We seemed to be the only people out on the roads and we couldn't help but notice that no traffic was coming from the opposite direction. Sure enough, a half hour later when we made it to the intersection of our detour highway and the highway to the airport, we were stuck behind a line of vehicles that was going nowhere. Five minutes went by, then ten, then thirty and then people just shut their cars off and sat in them. It was nearing closer to the time I had to be at the airport to check-in and I was worried I was going to get in trouble for missing movement.
After sitting there for a good hour people in their big trucks were driving the median to get to the other side to go back. It makes sense if you drive a huge truck, but when we saw people with cars do it, we knew we were in for some good entertainment. A guy driving an Altima attempted first. Now, no one in Georgia knows how to drive in the snow, (nor how do drive in deep snow) so he thought he could just gun it and go up the small hill to freedom on the other side of the interstate. We watched him successfully get into the median and halfway up the hill where his tires just spun as he slowly drifted backwards down the hill. Well, he never tried to just reverse back to the side he came from (which was a much smaller hill, AND he had front wheel drive, so it would have been much easier to just reverse up a much smaller hill and join the rest of us. He was determined to get up that hill, so he just kept gunning it forward and created large divots in the soft ground underneath his front tires and really got himself stuck. At this point Rachel and I were completely amused and wished we had some popcorn to go along with our entertainment. The genius got out and attempted to push his own car up the hill. Because obviously his shoes had more traction in the snow than his car tires? Eventually he just gave up and sat in his car.
Two hours had gone by and we hadn't moved an inch. However, FINALLY, a few semis way up in line slowly started to move forward. It took another half hour before we actually saw that the freeway that led to the airport from the other direction (the one we were desperately trying to reach on our detour) was also closed. We drove over it and saw 10 lanes of glare ice with maybe 4 or 5 semis on the ice but no drivers. I guess they just got out and gave up? We fired up Garmin and took back roads the rest of the way to the airport. When we finally got to the airport it had taken us three and a half hours to get there. Three and a half hours to travel about 25 miles. Rachel went in with me as I checked my baggage and signed in (2 hours late). She didn't stay with me too long since she knew it was going to be a long drive back home and wanted to get the kids from our neighbors. We had our goodbye and I was on my own.
There was a good 4 hours before I had to be at the gate so I somberly wondered the Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, already missing Rachel and the girls. This is always the hardest part to adjust to. I remember leaving for basic training and feeling the same way. You just feel empty. I went to the USO and feasted on free sandwiches, chips, snacks and soft drinks. THANKS USO! I spent a lot of time on the second floor of the big rotunda they have there and watching all of the stranded travelers. Delta and Air-Tran had canceled ALL flights that day. People were everywhere, sleeping on benches, laying on the ground and pouring out of the restaurants. I watched two little boys play legos with their Mom on the floor. They were later interviewed by CNN and I watched them live from the TV in the USO.
It finally came time to get to my gate. There's a train that runs underneath the tarmac in ATL, so you can get to one of the 5 terminals. My gate was in the last terminal and I decided to walk it. It was a good chance to chat with Rachel and make sure she made it home safely. It took about 15 minutes to walk the half mile to my gate and when I got there it was filled with soldiers. There were about 330 of us flying out that night. The word was our flight was canceled but they weren't telling us. A half hour before we were supposed to board, that rumor came true. The flight was canceled and they needed to figure out what to do with 300+ soldiers and the baggage that was already loaded onto the airplane. We waited at the gate for two hours before it was decided that we would be bused to a nearby hotel and we would try again the next day. I was not allowed to just go home. That was so frustrating. All I wanted was one more night with the family but I didn't get it. They wanted to make sure we all made it back to the airport safely the next day. They only had one bus that fit 40 soldiers and it took that bus an hour to make a round trip to the hotel and back to the airport. I was on the second to last bus. I didn't hit the pillow at the hotel until well after midnight. I was beat, the journey had begun.
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