Saturday June 15 1pm to 12am
Today I am sitting in the Denver Airport waiting to board the first of three flights which will take me to Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca, Mexico. The outbound trip is slated to take about 20 hours, with a long layover in Mexico City, almost 12 hours and thru the night. I dislike flying, mostly due to my size relative to the size of the seats. The actual flying I enjoy immensely. I have always liked the sensation of it, and the concept of the mechanics of it: a huge heavy device built of metals and plastics being thrust into and then held aloft by a substance we cannot see but only feel (air), though so commonplace these days, nonetheless still boggles me.
Most of my flying time over the years has been work related. I much prefer traveling by road. These days I prefer to travel by motorcycle, but that is a relatively recent development in my life. Prior to 1998 I always drove a car or truck around the country. Either way is of course much slower then a plane, and I find that good for many reasons. I like the feel of the air rushing past. I leave the windows down and the A/C off most of the time. When one is simply using the treated air of a sealed up car (or airplane) in automatic fashion there is not so much to appreciate about it. Having to catch it as it goes racing by makes me aware of it as a real thing that I need.