I don't recall ever weighing myself more often than I have today.   I started at 199lbs and over the course of an hour lost 8 lbs.  My Dad, who flew from his home in Nashville, TN to Phoenix this past weekend so that he could attend the USA Four Corners Finishers Banquet with me in Ontario, CA, was witness to me running around exclaiming things like “I've got to lose 8 pounds!” and “I'm now only 3 pounds over” to “ Yippee, I'm down to 187!!”  Ok, so I didn't really weigh 199 lbs to start the day but that's what the bathroom scale said when I was holding my gargantuan suitcase that is accompanying me during part of my F-A-R Journey.  I really only weigh 141 lbs but since Southwest Airlines has a limit of 50 pounds per bag, my goal weight became 191 lbs (for those with continued furrowed brow, that'd be my body weight of 141 lbs + 50 lbs of the bag combined = 191 lbs). 

So, after reaching a svelte 187 lbs, my Dad and I headed for Sky Harbor International Airport here in Phoenix for the “F” part of this F-A-R Journey.... “Fly”:

Traffic wasn't bad and we made great time getting to the airport.  My Dad and I arrived at Sky Harbor extra early in case there was an issue with my particular beefy bag.  Since I had weighed myself (with the bag) I was confident it would pass the weight restrictions, but I was not confident it would pass the Airport Transportation Security Baggage Administration Luggage Control Checkpoint (or whatever it's called now) given it's contents.  Inside the beefy suitcase is my motorcycle topcase (“Givi bag”), a rather weird looking object that I'm quite sure isn't an often seen item by eyes of Airport Security. 

Here's a photo of the suitcase and the Givi bag before I started packing:

By the way, the dog toy beside the suitcase was placed by my Welsh Corgi “Nike” who was likely trying to tell me to take him too.

I don't usually relate the contents of my personal belongings but I'll make an exception this time for those of you who, like Airport Security, wonder “What the hell is in that bag?”    The suitcase has my clothes, motorcycle gear, boots and the Givi bag, which itself is loaded with motorcycle accessories and electronics; a plethora of wires, cords, & connectors, my radar, GPS, auxillary lights, heated gear, etc., etc.  My heated gear is lined throughout with wires which I was sure would raise eyebrows.  My Dad ragged me the whole way to the airport saying “I bet most people think only suicide bombers wear jackets with wires ya know.”  This did not help my anxiety one bit.

Upon checking in at the inside ticket counter I advised the Southwest Airlines agent that I would like to visually watch my bag be inspected since, if it needed to be opened and hand inspected, I wanted to insure that not only was it repacked safely but that the security personnel could actually get the Givi bag closed again (I've found most non-Givi owners struggle with the latching system).  Of course, if an item – or the entire bag - was deemed illegal and banned from proceeding I wanted to make sure I knew it so I could adjust accordingly (which would likely mean I would not take the flight).  My Dad wondered aloud “They might even arrest you, you never know.”  He's such the jokester. 

The agent told me where to go stand so I could watch this inspection event and wished me a timid and questionable “Good luck.”  Geez, let's just ratchet my anxiety up a level, huh?  So, I proceeded down to THE area where my bag – yes, the one that I had already rallied quite a bit of emotion about today with the whole weight thing - was put on the conveyor belt and sent into the luggage version of a CAT scan machine.  At the time there was one officer/operator/inspector-whatever person looking at the screen as the conveyor belt moved bags along.  Once my bag got to what appeared to be the middle of the machine the belt stopped.  The lone agent squinted his eyes.  I think I started feeling dizzy.    He asked for an additional consult.  The second set of eyes started squinting and pointing at the screen then soon 2 other people joined the pow-wow.

(I think my dizzyness accounts for the fuzzy photo!)  At this point I considered how much it was going to cost me to FedEx some of the contents as well as get a later flight.  (“Hell, maybe bail you out of jail” my Dad quipped.)  One of the people who had joined the x-ray screen party apparently overheard me expressing concern to the ticket agent, and after what seemed like forever the woman walked over to me and said “It's good!”, the belt restarted and away went my bag.

 Wa-hoo! 

I felt like jumping over the roped off section and giving the whole crew a big hug!  My Dad and I proceeded to our gate which is where I am writing this now.  Thankfully, Sky Harbor Airport here offers free public Wi-Fi so this is hot off the press stuff!

While I'm waiting for departure I'll report a bit about my weekend jaunt to the USA Four Corners Finisher Banquet in Ontario, CA.  I completed the USA Four Corners Tour, which is sponsored by the Southern California Motorcycling Association (SCMA), earlier this year and was thus invited to attend the annual Finisher Banquet for current and past Finishers of the Tour. (complete Journey Report is: HERE)   I had a fantastic time at the banquet!  It's great when “birds of a feather” can fly together... or at least share a meal and a few stories about flying!  I really, really enjoyed gathering information and recommendations for my upcoming rides from people who, like me, are high mileage riders (I did over 65,000 miles last year).  Not surprisingly, I was by far the youngest of the banquet attendees at age 38.  The average age was probably early 60's.  There were 4 female finishers this past year (2006) and 3 of us were in attendance.  Bob Mutchler was the guest speaker.  Bob is a two-time Iron Butt Rally Finisher and rides around the US and other countries educating others about Polio.  Bob has Polio and is unable to stand or walk without the use of crutches.  He rides a sidecar equipped BMW and has done so to the tune of over 1.2 million miles while he promotes “Polio Plus.” Here is a pic of Bob speaking...

... and of his bike:

You can find out more information about Bob and Polio Plus: HERE

While at the banquet I met “Ray”, a 12-time finisher of the USA Four Corners Tour.  Yes, that would be a dozen times!

My Dad discovered during the course of the banquet that, aside from the fact that I'm not the only one crazy enough to ride laps around the country, that one of the attendees was also from Nashville and lives less than five minutes from his house.  Before the banquet, I went outside to walk around and surprisingly discovered that the motorcycles that were parked in the front of the hotel had all been issued tow-tags:

I wasn't surprised that most of the illegally parked bike by the front door were Gold Wings.  I did think it seemed kinda odd though... ride all over the country but need to park closest to the door?  (Parking lot was security patrolled so none of you Wingers send me “it's for security” excuses.)  Anyway, after the banquet I spent the remainder of the night in the bar with Bob Mutchler and with my friends Heidi and Bob Still, who are from AZ and the only married couple to ever finish an Iron Butt Rally on separate bikes, both finishing in 2005.  You can only imagine the stories shared around such a table.  How unique was my company?  Well, more people have been to the moon than have *finished* the Iron Butt Rally... and I was in the company of three finishers.

The overhead announcement tells me we'll be boarding soon.  A few minutes ago I saw the baggage truck pull up to our plane so I now have proof that my bag actually made it on to the plane. (It' the one with the orange flag):

So, I am getting ready to leave 80 degree weather here in Phoenix and I'll be arriving Nashville tonight in mid-20 temps.  The “A-R” part of the F-A-R Journey starts tomorrow morning so long as the weather holds in Alabama.  Yes, Roll Tide country!

Stay tuned...

AGirl

  I sat in the first row of the airplane during the flight so when the Southwest flight attendant opened the plane door after landing in Music City I was welcomed with a blast of 28 degree air.  It's as if the cold, humid air seemed to smack me in the face and say “Hey, are you ready?!”

As we were making our way to baggage claim to meet my gargantuan suitcase, I couldn't believe what we passed:

Yamaha??  How ironic!  I told my Dad it must surely be a sign. He replied “You mean a sign that you should take up hunting or maybe a hobby with 4 wheels?”     I've never seen such a display in an airport.  It felt very out of place to me and seemed to be in stark contrast to the business suit people shuffling past it.  Actually the sign seemed to scream: GO PLAY!  Based on the expressions on most faces I saw, that might have been good advice!