The L&T and I knew we were facing a long travel day home, but we didn’t figure it would end halfway.

Rather than snuggled warm in our own bed, the L&T and I are sitting in a hot, stuffy hotel room in Salt Lake City, sans luggage, food, and any sense of time or place.

The Underground Travel Curse strikes again.

Veteran Undergrounders will remember last year’s Maine return trip; we found ourselves stuck in Boston, holed up in a hotel room (a $400+ hotel room) for more than a day.

Given the current airline climate, I guess stranding us in Salt Lake City – which is, after all, farther west than Boston – constitutes real progress on the part of Delta Airlines. Yay, Delta!

My lower back is painfully aware of the fact that our 4.75 hour flight west found us rooted in our seats for better than eight hours, and I’m also pretty clear on the fact there are damned few trout at the Salt Lake City Airport Inn.

Thus, a New Underground Constitutional Amendment is born:

If I Can’t Drive To It, It Doesn’t Exist

More when my butt hurts less, and my eyes are open more.

See you where vertebrae go to die at the airport, Tom Chandler.