Southern Accents Part 1: Brazil
Terminal Impatience
As the airplane banked to the east, my small window framing the freshly encrusted Rockies faded to scenes of flat expanse and then night. Several feet above me in the overhead compartment, a 60 lb. cacophony of gear slept peacefully in my cary-on pack after surviving scrutiny from dumbfounded security officials at Denver International Airport who had swooned at my explanation for all the alien metal and cord I was attempting to bring on board. I told them ”people’s lives depend on this gear” and I could not risk it being out of my possession for even a moment. How had these security agents never seen or heard of rock climbing gear at Denver airport? Four hours later I landed in Atlanta and took a train to a friend’s house where I would spend my 22 hour layover. My oversized pack and gigantic haulbag gave me celebrity status on the Atlanta railway, MARTA. Some people thought my haulbag contained golf clubs. One couple wanted to know if I was going to be on TV. “Just like that guy who climbs the buildings, right?” asked a portly woman. “Right,” I said, “but I aint using no suction cups!” More »
