Coming Home

I’m someone who has always loved to travel.  I only realized somewhere in the middle of adulthood that I was a somewhat privileged kid.   I was very fortunate in that, by Pueblo standards I had seen a lot of the world by the time I was 18. My folks took us on many trips large and small.  The first time I saw the Pacific Ocean I was about 9.  We were on a one month road trip to the Northwest.  I saw the mystery of a tidal pool off the coast of Oregon.  Starfish, and Anemones. I went to Disneyland in 1961 when you could camp a few blocks from the park. I got on a ship and sailed for Belgium the summer after graduation—and then traveled all over Western Europe in a VW with my buddy Paul. In the last years I have taken a 31 day road trip to the tip of the Kenai peninsula and back, in a van with four kids and three adults. I have been to Europe six more times, Israel twice (in a little over a week – three times), all over China, Latin America, and I just got back from my 11th trip to Hawaii.  This is not bragging, but context.

This morning, waiting for my luggage to appear as we beat nearly all 200 passengers to carousel 10, I thought to myself, “I love coming home more than I do leaving”.  We stepped out to Level Six.  Don’t ask me how the Lyft rider app knows this but it can tell when you are just inside the door of DIA, and when you step out underneath the drive awning.  I called for a Lyft and Steve was there in “One” minute. We headed for our new home in Arvada.  To me airplanes are like giant elevators.  You get on in one world and arrive in another.  Case in point:  Nine hours earlier we were at Poipu beach watching Zoe collect sea shells, Mattias trying to talk Monk Seal, and Amy and Christian in the final stage of a 10-point tan.  I am sharing a few pictures to illustrate.  In Denver we are met with a snow storm.  We got home 48 minutes and $55 dollars later.  I share this to plug Lyft.  For a little over $100, we got curb service to and from the airport on a two week trip.  Had we driven and done the cheapest parks, it would have been at least $130 and dreaded shuttle rides.  Steve even handled our luggage. 

Steve is a retired firefighter/chief who, like me, loves driving for Lyft.  He was envious of my 1K Lyft jacket – they aren’t given out anymore.  We talked how we both failed retirement and love driving complete strangers from almost anywhere to anywhere.  He shared my exact words “In my almost 4,000 rides, I have had a handful of jerks”.  The time went very quickly and we soon were in front of our home.  We got in, turned on the fireplace, watered our plants, went to Panera for breakfast, and took a  three hour nap.   As soon as I finish this, I am going to do some Lyfting, and then I know I am home. 

Onward and Upward,

Mark