It was 2:30AM, I was up brushing my teeth and trying to put on a little blush. It always happens when I travel – I have these thoughts that I will curl my hair and look fabulous on arrival but then the alarm goes off and I question if yoga pants are appropriate travel attire paired with sneakers. Drew was half awake (I am not the most quiet human ever – sorry babe) and I was excited but exhausted. As I lugged my nearly overweight bag out the door and kissed him goodbye, I realized that this was it, I was finally heading to California – in the most roundabout series of flights ever. Let’s just say I dragged my feet a bit when booking this trip, I waited too long and therefore had the pleasure of two layovers, three flights, and what felt like a million hours traveling to reach Santa Barbara.
I landed and immediately noticed a girl with a tripod – surely she had to be part of this epic group that would be camping in the canyons for the weekend. Sure enough, she was. We said hello and waited for our bags. I watched the worker unload one bag at a time, waiting for my huge gray suitcase to show it’s weary face… suddenly, the cart was empty. I quickly and assuredly asked the guy if more were coming – the answer? No. My bag was officially lost and there I stood in the only clothes I had (which were so unglamorously awesome, I laughed.) I had always heard to pack a change of clothes – at least extra underwear in your carry on bag, but I had deemed my gear bag as only that and totally ignored the warning signs. No worries, I am sure it was just one stop behind me and would be coming soon.
Well, long story short, it was actually lost – in Chicago. I was the idiot who wore the cute ankle boots to camp that was suddenly filled with mud due to the rainstorms that wouldn’t let up. I had one of those “rock bottom” moments when I got to my cabin that was empty and there I sat with a camera and not an ounce of clothing. I sat on the bed, wondering what the heck I had gotten myself into and laughing at the irony that my blog post for the day was about how the adventures always work out. How was this one going to play out when I literally had one pair of underwear for a long weekend? One sweet instagram follower, Emily, offered to bring me shoes and sweats (my request, of course – the glam factor was officially gone.)
After over four hours spent on the phone with two different airlines with multiple representatives, a few tears and a million raindrops, I felt like I would never see my bag filled with my favorite bracelets, my new Sam Edelman booties, and my brand new tripod. Surely, it was gone and I would have to wear the same jeans and sweatshirt for the remainder of the trip. I reminded myself that it was all part of the adventure and pinky promised that I would never not pack a change of clothes in my carry on – lesson learned, airlines. Two days into the trip I got a call in the middle of a class – I ran out the front door barefoot and straight into the mud due to the excitement! My bag had been found and was being delivered to me. I had never hugged 50 lbs of canvas tighter, changing into clean clothes was heavenly and it left me with a story to tell… today me and my $5 St. Vinny’s suitcase (the replacement for my poor bag who ended it’s journey on the carousel in Milwaukee covered in duct tape due to a broken zipper) are heading home to Wisconsin and staying put for quite sometime…
Why head out? There’s a lot more to read, feast your eyes on these:
