On the Trail Again — Benjamin Lange

I'm writing this from a shuttle at ten to five in the morning, and I am nowhere near where I'm supposed to be.

I was supposed to be in Salt Lake City last night, headed out west to meet my family on their trip. Part work for them, pure leisure for me. I had it planned clean. Out of LaGuardia, one connection, wake up in Utah.

A marina full of boats on the Hudson, a long bridge curving away into the haze behind it, seen from the train into the city

Park Avenue in Midtown on a hazy summer day, flags on the lamppost, cabs at the curb

Then a storm parked on us for over an hour before we ever left the ground, and by the time we were up, the connection was long gone. So instead of Salt Lake I got a La Quinta, room 404, and the same connection out of Cincinnati, one day late.

Over the wing on the ground at LaGuardia, storm-grey sky, the control tower and a line of planes waiting in the distance

Back on that grounded plane, I'd just started a new book about leadership. This is the page I was on while we sat there going nowhere.

The open page of the book: a Franklin Roosevelt line about limitations, and under it the line that everything you want in life is just outside your comfort zone

Funny thing to be reading while your clean little plan comes apart in real time. The trip didn't break when the plan broke. That's about when it started.

Green country and a river out the plane window over the wing, late evening light

A crescent moon over the last orange of sunset, wire fence in silhouette

And the room they gave me was 404. Not found.

La Quinta key sleeve with room number 404 written in marker

The Welcome to CVG sign over the terminal doors in Cincinnati, early morning

So I'm back on the trail this morning. Salt Lake is still out there and so is the family, and the good part hasn't even started yet.