On the back of the airplane seat, directly in front of me, is an entertainment console with music, movies, and diversions.. If I hit a flight tracker button on the console, I can see the path of my current flight in midair, wind speed, plane speed, miles traveled, miles to go. A little airplane, on the screen, is following a white line connecting where we started this trip and where we are ending this trip. We are, right now, half way across the Pacific Ocean.
Checking the flight tracker has become a flight habit of mine.
The worst thing about this flight is that I will have to wave at Denver as we fly over, board a plane in Minneapolis to fly back to Denver which adds hours to my journey. My car is parked in a Denver International Airport parking lot. If I was a parachuting guy, I could pull a D.B. Cooper thing and bail out, without any money, just to save hours off my trip.
One of these days, Scotttreks will fly around the world without having to backtrack, take direct flights, and eat caviar in First Class.
There will be plenty of leg room and all stewardesses will be knockouts, hired mostly for their anatomy.
Scotttreks, I have figured out ,is my own personal flight tracker.
Keeping track of where I am, in the world, has become quite a project, and a project I can’t, in good conscience, leave to anyone else.
Keeping track of my travels is not a chore or even a responsibility.
I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t like it.
Moving around the world is like having your own game board, and, with each roll of the dice, you see new things every day that you could never dream up on your own.