According to the 3 Day website, buried in the information about the Atlanta leg of the event, there is a hotel “on site” at Turner Field. This appealed to me; I knew that after the closing ceremonies we would be tired (or for sure I would be) and the idea of just grabbing my bag and walking across a parking lot was appealing.
So, yeah, I reserved a room for DKM and myself for post-walk crashing. No paying for a shuttle to get to the host hotel a good 20 miles away, no waiting in line to get on the shuttle and then wait in a long line to check in. Just drag the bags a little way, and there we would be.
I sure as hell didn’t see the hotel from where we were at in the Turner Field parking lot. I could see a Holiday Inn just up the road—uphill, because I don’t think there are any downhills in Atlanta—but there was no Country Inn to be seen. According to the iPhone GPS it was only half a mile away…which was about 90% farther than I cared to walk at that point, especially since we couldn’t see it and had no idea in which direction to go.
Michelle is resourceful; she called the hotel and asked if they had a shuttle. They did not, but they would send a town car for us. She told them to look for the woman with pink pair, and we sat on a retaining wall to wait.
And we waited.
The parking lot cleared out; she called again and was assured the car was on its way.
We waited some more.
She called again; the car was stuck in traffic, but was on its way. She waved off a couple of cabs because, hey, we had a car coming.
Four phone calls later, the car was still stuck in traffic (which was by this point non-existent around us) so she told them to cancel and we’d get a cab. Less than five minutes later we were in a cab on the way to the hotel…which was indeed about half a mile, but around the backside of Turner Field. Half a mile, and $12 plus tip.
At that point, I didn’t care. I would have paid the guy $50. And as we got out of the car I made an offhand comment that with our luck, the hotel would have lost our reservation.
I should shut the phck up sometimes.
The clerk couldn’t find my name in the system. I had to laugh, because it just figured. I also had no idea what the hell we would do if they really didn’t have us in there and had no open rooms. I doubt either one of us was in the mood to call around and find another hotel, then find a way to get there.
But…she was just spelling my name wrong. We got the room, and thanks to a bunch of menus the clerk gave us Michelle called for food delivery, and we collapsed.
|View from the front of the hotel|
One of the smarter things we did, I think, was not schedule an early flight back home. We slept in, took advantage of the free breakfast (and the hotel gets bonus points; they were just about to shut it down when we went downstairs, but left it open for us) and left for the airport (this time, the town car was waiting) in plenty of time to get through security and onto the flight.
On the way back, DKM didn’t have to make me eat; we hit DFW and I was starving. With an hour between flights, we had plenty of time to walk (hobble) the length of 30 gates and get food and then board the plane.
Advice: never ever ever sit in the very last row of seats, because you will be right next to an engine, and your hearing may never be the same again. Not that mine was very good before…
Landing was almost anticlimactic; I was tired and my feet were swollen and hurt, but the 3 Day was officially over. We were home, and one of us (heh, not me) had to go to work on Tuesday.
Instead of work, I went to the doctor to get my right foot looked at, the one that snapped painfully on Day Two. The verdict: torn ligament, something my doc feels is a little outside his scope of expertise, so he’s sending me to a podiatrist. He refrained from saying anything about me having walked on it after the initial pain—too late, bub—but he nixed the idea of walking in San Diego at the end of November.
The Spouse Thingy and I have reservations for Disneyland in December, and that looks a little iffy, too. But we’ll see what the podiatrist says when I see him on the 10th.
Still…overall I’m happy with the 3 Day for 2011. I walked San Francisco with a broken toe, and if I hadn’t gotten sick I would have done all 3 days with it broken. I willingly took a few steps out of my comfort zone and went to Atlanta, snapped a ligament, and kept walking. I did some stupid, stupid things on this walk—day three I should have bowed out early—but I finished and got my freaking t-shirt.
Next year I’m not sure where I’ll be walking, other than San Diego with DKM. I registered to crew in San Francisco so that I could experience the 3 Day from that side of it, but I haven’t decided yet if I want to do another walk toward the beginning of the season. I’m tempted to pick some place new and go alone and push myself a little further outside my comfort zone, but we’ll see.
It’s a hell of a lot of fun with people you like. I’m not sure I can beat the experience of being part of a team and camping with a treasured friend.
I have time to decide.
And y’all have time to figure out what you’re going to make me do for donations. Though I’m not sure the pink spandex on the bike and around San Francisco, and the pink hair and camo pants for the Walk can be beat.