My cousin Amos and his new girl Jennifer got married this weekend on the Canadian border, just a couple days before they relocate to Australia. Five of us (Will from Portland, Sarah from DC, Joanne from Albuquerque, Erin from San Francisco, and myself from Los Angeles) hooked up in Seattle on Friday and drove up. We all coordinated our flights to arrive at around the same time.
My Southwest flight from Los Angeles had a quick stop in Oakland, where my cousin Erin boarded the plane for the Seattle connection. We were essentially arriving in Seattle on the same flight.
Our Sunday night flight home out of Seattle was also the same. Erin and I had figured we’d just wing a transportation solution from Canada back down to Seattle, either by hitching a ride, finding some sort of public transportation, or just renting a car. Waking up late Sunday pretty much erased the first two options, so we rented a car at an Avis in White Rock and headed out at about 12:30 PM. That’d give us plenty of time, with perhaps even allowing us a couple extra hours to have some drinks in town.
Then we hit the Canadian border, which was in the middle of some sort of memorial service. The main gate to the US was closed, and they sent us on a detour. The traffic was horrendous, and were in line, in an idling rental car, for almost three hours. By the time we reached customs, it was 3:11, with an estimated time of about two and a half hours to the Seattle/Tacoma airport. Provided there was no traffic.
We hauled, doing our best to distract ourselves from the quiet stress of possibly missing our flight. I knew that if we hit traffic in Seattle, we’d have a serious problem.
But we made it by the skin of our teeth, arriving just minutes before departure. I broke out my dying cell and rolled a quick clip of two very tired cousins after a long travel day.
Our moms are sisters.