British Airways 288. PHX > LHR.
I’ve seen this flight at least six times a week for well over a year, now. It arrives in Phoenix about the time I get off work at 5PM, and is climbing to cruising altitude over my house about four hours later after we’ve put P to bed.
Every time I see that big 747 float by, I wish I was on it.
I wish I was settling in for 10 hours across the country, across the Atlantic, and into Heathrow.
The other night, watering what little green remains in my backyard, I looked up at G-BNLK and caught myself wishing I was flying away to England and points beyond. It struck me as somewhat escapist.
But then I realized something. While there’s certainly a desire to escape—especially this time of year in Phoenix—I don’t wish I was escaping my problems as much as I wish I was flying off to do good things.
Sure, there’s a part of me that wants to chill on a secluded beach somewhere—but the gearhead journalist in me wants to go meet new gearheads, see how they do things, and share those stories with the rest of the gearhead world.
It would be nice to hop a plane for a weekend in Europe or Asia or even Australia—my spend more time at the destination than traveling to and from rule be damned—if I was able to come back and take it a little easy around the jetlag.
I’ll get there. Someday. Just takes a little more hustle today.