The flight. About as uneventful a being blasted across the globe for a day and a half could be. Noticed, as we touched down Wednesday afternoon, that we missed out entirely on Tuesday – our departure from LAX at midnight on Monday flipped us straight into Wednesday when we set our clocks for NZ time.
As with all pilgrimages, I’m noticing that the USAP concentration grows with each flight south. On this last flight, we’ve determined that, with the exception of a few baby-toting families and business suits, pretty much everybody on board is headed for the ice. My seatmate Jean is from the NSF, headed down for her ninth year – this time, her son’s also deploying. She looks out the window and lets out what could be a wistful sigh “Yeah, it does kind of get under your skin, I guess.”