Some days you feel like you’re on top of the world, the master of your own universe, the king of your own castle. In other words, some days you think you’re in control.
Other days are sent your way to teach you the error of such hubris, and boy can those lessons smart!
The Mad One was thusly reinstructed during one such recent turn of the sundial.
Over the Thanksgiving holiday, Mad Gringo and his Mad Clan decided to take a trip. Eschewing traditional MG travel methods (cramped car, and the occasional, even more cramped, airplane), he opted for the train.
That is where the trouble started.
No, there was no actual derailment, no launching of the engine from the middle of a bridge under construction – nothing that dramatic. This disaster was self-inflicted, the result of Mad Gringo’s pathetic attempt to accurately count backwards.
You see, Amtrak leaves the Omaha station heading east at 5:14AM. It is the nearest location to Fremoahu from which one can catch the long, diesel-powered string of (reportedly) luxurious cars.
Having never traveled this way before, Mad planned to arrive a full hour before the train departed. In his mind this turned into a 4:15AM departure from home and a 3:45 wakeup call. Yeah, it takes a little time to get the mini-Gringos dressed and ready to walk out the door.
There was an error, however, in this carefully calculated plan – the neglecting of the hour drive time required to reach the station.
You can guess the result...
At precisely 5:15AM, team Gringo arrived at the station just in time to wave as the train pulled away.
This left our intrepid travelers only one option, the one MG was trying to avoid in the first place – twelve hours behind the accursed steering wheel.
And, of course, once our destination was reached, the only way to be able to enjoy the return trip via rail was to sell the car. Or park it somewhere and report it “stolen” to the insurance company.