We had such good fortune on the trip here that I thought we had outrun the Greek Chorus. But it turns out they were rolling in on a weather front. Sun Valley Ski Resort has been waiting for this front since 2006. It arrived two days after we arrived, and nestled snuggly into the Wood River Valley. It has snowed, it has rained, it has sleeted, it has hailed. We have not seen blue sky–or even the surrounding mountains–for a week. Except for the fact that my parents are here and the fact that we have built a snowman, we could be vacationing in our closet.
My parents’ presence is key–Nanny is so wonderful and helpful with the Bots that it’s exhausting even to think of her energy expenditure. “I’ll sit down on Monday,” she kept saying, citing the day after our scheduled departure. But nobody counted on the weather.
Planes fly in this weather, even thirty-seat turbo-props, the kind that jump up from Salt Lake City, but they do not land in this weather, and they do not take off. Locals (of which I was one, for ten years) know that, between the months of November and April, you take your chances when you schedule a flight into or out of Hailey’s tiny airport. If you are flying Delta, one of the two airlines that service the airport, you may receive a call four hours before your flight is scheduled to leave. A friendly voice notifies you that you must be at the airport three hours ahead of flight time so that you can take a bus to Twin Falls, eighty miles east, and fly to Salt Lake City from there.
This is inconvenient but it gets you where you want to go, except if you have children. Because the bus, of course, is not equipped with car seats or the LATCH system.
Then you are at the mercy of kind relatives (or relatives who really want to see you go), who may taxi you an hour and a half through the fog and across the slushy prairie to the next airport. But planes sometimes leave late from Twin Falls, and we had just thirty minutes to catch the last flight of the day to Phoenix. A drive across the prairie, AND a night in Salt Lake City?
Everyone else thought it was wind in the trees, but I know I could hear the Greek Chorus chanting,
And she made reservations on the last flight,
And if she didn’t make it, she would have to spend the night,
A thirty-minute layover would not be enough,
Even if Husbot were helping, it still would have been tough.
It is hard to feel sorry for her stressing and her strife,
Has she never traveled in her life?
(Husbot, on whom the success of the thirty-minute layover kind of depended, had to return to work on Tuesday.)
Nanny suggested I call Delta and see if they would postpone our flights, due to the lack of LATCH on the bus. I was skeptical, but Nanny Knows.
The Delta representative, with her faint Bangalore accent, got us on a flight out Tuesday, the day the front is supposed to move on. She didn’t charge us the $150 per ticket change fee; in fact, Gbot and I got $10 back apiece.
And so we are still here. Because our timeshare was for a week, we’ve moved into Nanny and Poppy’s guest room. We are trying to be helpful and useful, but having us as visitors is like inviting Hurricane WeeBot into your home, even if we behave ourselves.
After lunch, I bundled everyone up to go to the store, just to get them out of the house. On the way, they fell asleep. I’m parked outside of Hailey Coffee Company, pirating the wifi.
I hope Nanny is at home, sitting down. Although I love it here, and the Bots love Nanny and Poppy, and Nanny and Poppy love the Bots, if the weather doesn’t clear by Tuesday, someone will probably volunteer to drive us to Twin Falls.