Planes, Trains and Uh, Snowmobiles? Oh My!

Part of the fun of traveling for me is definitely experiencing the different modes of transportation involved. That being said, there have been some challenges, fears to be faced and some mishaps that hit the wallet a bit hard.

Depending on where you are going, you may catch a flight, a train, or embark on an epic road trip...Or in some cases, all of the above. While safety is always first, it's important to remember to bring along a dose of courage and a funny bone too.

I Believe I Can Fly!

I was told that my first time flying (which I don't personally recall) I spent the entire flight looking out the window and then questioning, "We go down?". I was two years old. I flew a few times more as a teenager, but I don't recall being scared. I'm honestly not really sure when my fear of flying began and it wasn't so severe that I wouldn't fly, it just caused me a lot of anxiety before and during. I always loved to travel and so I would suck it up and push past the fear. That being said, I never slept on an airplane, and I always left grip marks on the arm rests. I'm also not ashamed to admit I even cried on a few flights when there was a lot of turbulence. I couldn't fathom ever being able to take flight longer than a few hours which meant traveling abroad was out of reach.

The desire to travel the world one day continued to pull at me. I decided that the best way to get over my fear was to get up in a plane, in the cockpit. Face the fear! I have a good friend who is a pilot and also a flight instructor. I asked him if he would be willing to take me up on an experience flight. He agreed and we set the date. The anticipation began to build as my flight day approached. On December 27th, 2018, we took to the air in a small, single prop engine Cherokee. Prior to take off, he walked me through the preflight checks, explaining the parts of the aircraft and all the various ways a pilot ensures it is flight worthy. Inside, he allowed me to sit in the main pilot seat while he took the co-pilot spot. I thought he was nuts, but he reassured me that even from there he could take over if needed.

We flew from Clearwater Airpark down to Albert Whitted Airport and then back. I got to do the take-offs, and he performed the landings (the import part). It was exhilarating. He explained how turbulence was just "bumpy air", like hitting a pothole on the road. Flights I took after that, when we hit turbulence, I would chant to myself, "It's just bumpy air Megan.". It helped, to a degree. I still got knots in my stomach and found myself anxious whenever the seatbelt lights would come on. I did travel more, but the longest flight was only about 3 1/2 hours. How was I ever going to be able to get to another country when the idea of a flight more than 3 hours made me sick to my stomach?

Ready for take-off!

A few years later and with an empty nest fast approaching, I could finally contemplate traveling abroad. The day I had my passport in hand I was calling up my girlfriends to plan a trip. Having read Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love at least 5 times (and watching the movie maybe 20), I knew I wanted to go to Bali. Sure, it was about 24 hours of flying, but so what?! I could do it. My friends were not sold on that idea. They expressed concerns of how it would be if I had a panic attack or was sobbing uncontrollably halfway through an 18-hour flight. They suggested we try something a little closer for my first trip. How about Iceland? At first, I was offended and crushed, but I quickly saw their point and conceded that they were right. (I had never thought about visiting Iceland and wasn't so sure I wanted to. It did end up being amazing, but that is for another story.)

At about 5 hours, the flight to Iceland from NY would be the longest flight I had been on. It would also be the first time I flew over open ocean. I knew I didn't want to be petrified the whole time and crying at every bump in the air. There was only so much chanting about potholes in the sky one person could do. I started researching ways to get over the fear of flying and came across a course called "Fearless Flyer". It wasn't cheap, but it had great reviews, and I knew I needed to try something, so I purchased the program. Being the Master Procrastinator I am, I put off going through the course until I was sitting in the Nashville airport one evening waiting for a delayed flight caused by storms. Talk about anxiety. I knew there was going to be turbulence and so I logged into the website on my phone and started watching the videos. What a better way to test if it worked. When the section came on with a pilot explaining the dynamics of flight, that those potholes in the sky were just where different temperatures of air met, and what all the many "scary" sounds heard during a flight were, I felt less afraid. When he explained that turbulence wasn't meaning the plane was falling and that the movement usually wasn't as big as it seemed, I relaxed a little bit more. For me, the fear was mostly from the unknown. Once I had a better understanding, with visual examples, there was less uncertainty. After a 12-hour layover, we were finally boarding the plane, and I realized I wasn't so nervous. Once in the air, the pilot came on and explained that there was "rough air" ahead. I wondered if I would feel so at ease when the turbulence hit. When it did, I was oddly calm. I didn't feel that jolt in my stomach or the need to have a death grip on the arm rest. I even closed my eyes (although I did not sleep). Throughout the flight I felt peaceful and calm. I knew I had hit a turning point.

Fast forward to 3 months later boarding my flight to Iceland and I felt no trepidation at all. If you can believe it, I was excited and I even slept! A year later, I took an 8 1/2-hour flight from FL to London, skirting Hurricane Erin off the Eastern Seaboard. A little over a year prior, I would have cancelled my flight due to fear. Instead, I happily boarded the plane, only thinking about all the great adventures awaiting me across the pond as they say. While I did get woken up a couple times when the turbulence was pretty strong, I wasn't afraid, and I fell right back to sleep. It was just as if someone had shaken me awake. Our return flight home was a smooth 9 1/2 hours which I was awake for most of, laughing with my friend and watching movies and even getting up to walk around and stretch.

One thing I have promised to myself is that I will not allow fear of the unknown to stop me from adventure. There is just too much in this world I want to see and do. With my fear of flying past me, the world has opened up and the possibilities of where I can go are limitless.

But Did You Die?

Fun fact, you do not need a license to drive a snowmobile. Also, there are places that will rent you a snowmobile for the day and send you on your way. No driver's test needed. They do give you a quick safety briefing and explain what to do if you overturn the machine (which came in handy here).

On a girl's trip to Park City, Utah, my friends Ramona, Sam and I decided to rent snowmobiles and ride around the Uinta Mountains. Of the 3 of us, only Sam had ever driven a snowmobile. What could possibly go wrong? Apparently, a lot. Since there were 3 of us and only one with experience, we rented one single and one double snowmobile.

While it was frigid and there was plenty of snow all around, there had not been fresh snowfall in the past week. This is important to note because snowmobile engines tend to get very hot, very quickly. They are cooled down by the fresh powdery snow kicked up as you ride along in your winter wonderland. However, when there isn't fresh snow, the trails are packed down very tightly and there isn't much to keep the engine cool. Subsequently, the first challenge we faced was stopping, a lot, to scoop up snow from the side of the trails and place it on the engines to keep them from overheating. Not a huge deal, but definitely inconvenient. On one such stop; I stepped off of the machine and immediately sunk down to midthigh.

Florida girl that I am, I was nervous and was content to be a passenger princess, however Ramona encouraged me to try taking over driving the double while she rode on back. All was going well until we had to turn a corner. Another thing about the packed trails is that grooves are literally frozen in them from the prior riders, making it challenging to steer (at least for me). As I slowed down to take the corner, we didn't turn quite far enough and started to drift off the path into much softer, deeper snow. In literal slow motion, the snowmobile began to tip over and we were half buried on our sides. After a brief moment of panic, we were able to get free. The soft snow protecting us from any injuries. The real problem being how did we get this massive machine turned right side up? It took what seemed like forever for the three of us to dig, push and pull until we had up righted our ride. If you are familiar with engines, such as in a lawnmower, this time spent turned over had flooded ours. It wouldn't start and it wouldn't stay on top of the soft snow. Since I was the one driving, I of course felt horrible and was pacing back and forth trying to keep warm while also trying to avoid a total meltdown. Sam and Ramona were having a good time as I brooded over my mistake. Ramona tried to cheer me up, saying, "But did you die?". Sam suggested letting it sit for a little bit to clear the engine and then she would try starting it. After an hour since we tipped, Sam was able to get the machine running and we were back on the trail.

Ramona clowning around for the camera as I moped off to the side.

The rest of the ride went pretty smooth with frequent stops to cool the engines and take in the views. The Uinta range is quite beautiful. We made our way, me riding passenger princess again, all the way up to the ridgeline and then back down. As we hit the last open stretch of the day, Sam and Ramona asked if I wanted to drive again. I was hesitant but they assured me that nothing could possibly go wrong on this wide and straight stretch. We could even see the rental place where we started. This time, Sam rode as passenger and Ramona took the single. At first, I was hesitant to open up the throttle and really go. I grew a little more courageous and eventually was up to maybe 3/4 speed. As with the beginning of the trail, I quickly found that the grooves on the wide-open space were making it challenging to steer again. I kept slowing down as I struggled to control our direction. Finding my confidence once more, we were quickly approaching what seemed like a pile of snow. Momentarily forgetting to release the throttle and unable to swerve, we went through it. A cloud of white burst in front of us. It was a little startling, but all seemed ok and we laughed it off as we carried on to the main road. Almost to the finish line, the other machine died, and we had to wait for the rental company to come pick us up. As we were taking off our helmets and getting ready to check out, they asked what we had hit. All three of us looked around in confusion. "We didn't hit anything", I replied. The man looked at me, back at the snowmobile and said, "It sure looks like you did'". I walked around to where he was standing at the front of the snowmobile and my stomach dropped as I saw the gaping hole through the grill. I knew I had hit that patch of snow, but how could it do that? The man suggested I had actually hit a block of ice. We would have to go back to the office and see what it cost to repair. At this time, I was still traveling on a tight single-mom budget. I fought back tears and a bit of nausea at the idea I may have to pay to replace an engine. While it still ran, the damage did look quite bad. The man explained to me that the repair cost would depend on how deep the damage went. They would have to wait for their in-house mechanic to return in order to assess it. While we sat in the lobby waiting, I did the only thing I could, I prayed. The damage would either be $450, or it could be as much as $3,000. After what felt like an eternity, they had me walk outside to look at the damage with them. The universe smiled on me in that moment, and it turned out the damage was mostly cosmetic and would only cost $450.

While this was a memorable outing, it was also a very expensive one. I have not since had any desire to drive a snowmobile (living in Florida I also have not had many opportunities) and the lesson I learned was to leave that to the experts. However, whenever Ramona and I see each other, we always have a good chuckle as we say to each other, "But did you die?".

Me posing like a pro on the Uinta trail in Utah.