Monday, August 29, 2011

The Friendly Skies?

The first time I flew with a bike, I packed my cheapo Motiv up in the airline-supplied bike box, and flew to Oregon to visit Joy and Steve.  I knew that the airlines were notorious for beating bikes up, so I packed the bike with as much care as I knew how.  I braced the fork, wrapped all of the tubes, wrapped bike clothes around it...all the tricks.

When Val and I landed in Portland, I went to the over-sized luggage office to retrieve the bike.  I had to wait a bit, as the big stuff is typically first on the plane, last off.  Finally, it showed up on a big cart.

Imagine just how happy I was to see tire tracks running across my bike box.  It had fallen off of the luggage tug, onto the tarmac, and ended up being run over by the trailer-full of luggage behind it. 

Of course, the airline had made me sign a waiver, declaring that they were not responsible for any damage.  That's another thing you have to love about flying with a bike...

Luckily, though, I had outsmarted the baggage handlers.  I had packed the box so tight, that the short edges of the carton hadn't even buckled.  When I pulled the bike out to reassemble it, there wasn't a mark on it.

Jon - 1 :  Airline - 0

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