So, of course, now that I’m on break, I simply had to book an ol’ classic west coast mileage run, with a little bit of my nouveau-mileage run habits built in. I’ll begin with my ol’ favorite leaving from San Francisco (SFO) to San Diego (SAN), a segment I began in 2008 when United had that brief period of withholding 500-mile minimums from elites. SFO – SAN, at 447 miles, is about as close as it got. Then, it’s the SAN – Dulles (IAD) redeye, then a flight down to Tampa, and then, back to Dulles. As a west coast mileage runner, Tampa is an absolute boon – netting a cool 800 miles, or so, each way from Dulles and back. Yeah, it’s not a great airport for a few hour layover, but it has free wifi and a Starbucks, and I’ll be set for studying tomorrow. I haven’t found one restaurant, though, that serves foods of fewer than 90,000 kilojoules, but, by golly, I will keep trying.

After, it’s back to Dulles, then, my new fav mileage run segments, onto Dallas, then onto LAX, then, the last flight of the night to San Francisco.

As always, we pray for thunderstorms, and pray for irrops. Pray for a bit of fun as we embark on the nostalgia mileage run.

I really wanted to stay in economy. After booking the ticket, I logged into United.com, and made sure to manually cancel the Unlimited Domestic Upgrade (UDU). The website seemed to understand the very basic commands, and I figured I had removed myself from the upgrade mix. A few weeks after booking, when the upgrade window for 1Ks rolled in, I received a text message reporting the upgrade had cleared from SAN – IAD. I quickly called United, and to their bewilderment, canceled the upgrade, and placed myself back in 6F. Then, two days later, I received yet another text message, revealing that I had been upgraded, yet again. At that point, I reasoned, a call to United to make a request would most likely be completely ignored by their erratic IT system, that seems to work as well as a computer submerged underwater.

I’d really rather be in 6F. If someone has grabbed 6F, I’m going to try to ask the gate agent to call 6F to the podium, and ask him/her if he’d like to trade seats. If the agent won’t call someone up, citing some, uh, security/privacy risk, or something that a United gate agent is likely to confabulate, I’ll try switching seats with my new friend on board. Hopefully, he likes domestic first class better than economy.

Anyway, I’ll have a blog post later this evening from the hotel in Medford. If you have absolutely nothing to do this Saturday, or just like hitting “refresh” on your Twitter page, you can follow along on all the scintillating details on Twitter, by just observing, and not even necessarily following, @waapblog.

Cheers, folks.

But, now, I’m going to break my own rule, because tomorrow’s mileage run, looks to be a ridiculously boring day of flying. Ridiculously boring. Like astonishingly boring. Without real hopes of oversell situations or chaos causing weather, a day of G-rated, edited-for-TV, rest-home flying seems in the offing.

All flights have as many open seats as a Pittsburgh Pirates game. Any delay-inducing weather, according to weather.com, is going to move out of the area before my arrival. Sadly, the most exciting thing about tomorrow is that I found out I can take a cab to LaGuardia from where I live, near the Columbia campus, at 4.00am, for under 20 bucks! Finally, living the high life, and taking cabs to the airport. Uhhhhh huh.

Oh, well. I am excited, though, about beautiful Los Angeles weather, In-N-Out, and plane spotting. I guess before I go to bed, I’ll perform a makeshift rain dance, or pray that an appearance from the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man forces all 29 runways at DFW to close for a few hours. Hey, Dallas is always a fun airport for plane spotting, riding the oh-so-fun tram, and feeling dirtily subversive as you role through American Airlines country on a United Express-marked airplane.

A mileage run is still a mileage run. Even if everything flows smoothly, I’m still ridiculously excited to cut the clouds and go flying.

To my effervescent glee, yesterday, I had noticed that one of my flights for tomorrow’s mileage run and Regional Jet Tour of America Redux from Dulles (IAD) to Dallas (DFW) had only one seat remaining, in first class.

Yup, United’s website indeed would only sell one remaining seat, as of yesterday. My irregular operations-greedy mind began dreaming of volunter denied boarding (VDB) scenarios, where I would heroically volunteer to take a later flight to Dallas, sauntering off for a day in Washington, DC while I waited for the next flight at 5pm, my pocket fat with vouchers.

This morning, I soon awoke to fractured reverie. Sadness/patheticness that I awake and scamper to check seat counts before class notwithstanding, I initially thought that United wouldn’t sell any more seats on the flight, but after rearranging some options on the website, soon ascertained that United now had two first class seats for sale, and five economy class seats up for grabs.

Son of a biscuit.

In my usual suspicion of United, I immediately made myself the victim, and determined that United had actively and purposefully, with malice aforethought, decided to restrict the ability to purchase economy class seats until the day of the flight, forcing people to buy first class seats, while simultaneously promoting the urgency that there existed one sole seat remaining on the airplane, and how it justifies a high purchase price.

I believe that practice is called swindling, a practice about which my brother (now in his second term of law school) learned in second grade. In the second grade, at our elementary school, students studied the Middle Ages (and, by study, I mean we constructed a massive castle out of wooden blocks, cut little middle ages villagers out of wood with coping saws and built them little houses to populate the village, and assigned each student a trade in a guild). My brother was the village armorer. A few times during the middle ages unit, each of three second grade classrooms held Market Day, in which each tradesboy/girl could craft wares and food, and sell them to other students (using poker chips as currency). My dad helped my brother spraypaint the bottoms of egg cartons silver, cut out the little cups, and place a red feather in each, a perfect knight’s helmet for sale in which to festoon the little townspeople we had cut from wood.

It  was truly the perfect introduction to the throes of capitalism. My brother decided he would only display one little knight’s helmet at a time, and when he piqued the interest of a prospective buyer, he lamentably informed his fellow second grade classmates that because this helmet was the last one, he would have to charge an exceptionally high price.  Because the helmets looked fantastic (our dad is a whiz with those architectural/aesthetic type projects), a student would gladly plunk down the poker chips for the elusive purchase. As the student walked away, miraculously, out came another helmet, and my brother perpetrated the ruse on another unsuspecting student, and cleaned up.

It all worked until the Ye Olde Securities and Exchange Commission (aka, his teacher) observed his creative practice, shut it down, and made him display his full set of egg carton helmets.

I thought our friends at United’s inventory management had taken a cue from second grade market day. (It’s not too far-fetched – United’s inventory management is run by second graders, after all). But, in explaining my ire, to my friend Ian (a former Continental flyer, so he’s naturally much more postive about things. United endows me with the cynacism of someone growing up under a former dictator), he really did not think United would participate in such a morally reprehensible practice, and instead posited that a group canceled or changed their previous reservations.

Regardless of the reason, there now exists about seven seats on the airplane. Sadly, the Dulles – Dallas flight was most likely the only option for a VDB situation, when I tried to factor in all of the other potential variables, mostly a very long flight on a regional jet, that could result in weight and balance issues needing to bump a few passengers off the flight. In good news, however, Zeus/Poseidon seem to want to kick up a bit of a thunderstorm for tomorrow morning in Dallas. Thunderstorms are really one of the few pieces of weather that modern aviation has now way to combat, and perhaps, the inclement weather could throw a bit fun into the fray.

It could be, however, a result of my United karma, which is, uh, non existent. Yeah, it’s really no secret that I really dislike this airline, its management, the way it runs its operations, its reluctance and unapologetic defense of cruddy service, bad attitude, and poor customer service for about 85% of its employees (15% are very nice. Every once in a while, I run into one!) I’m very critical of the indifferent and halfhearted decisions of the airline, doped with PR-BS and gilded with crap, as if their customers are lobotomized sheep that don’t contain the volition to question a decision. Usually,  I encounter curt and condescending gate agents, bristling at the simplest of questions, sour cabin staff, perpetrating a hostile and indifferent attitude throughout the cabin. Sometimes, I feel bad for paying for a seat, and simply existing on board, as if my mere presence is an inconvenience for flight attendants, another body they may potentially have to assist in an emergency. I’m truly a low maintenance, and really, a rather antisocial flyer. I don’t chat with seatmates, really, or want to have discussions of airline politics with flight attendants, or ask for my tea precisely heated to 174 degrees, but still, a United flight attendant can really make you feel like a nuisance, if only for existing.

Perhaps, I should feign the attitude of a United apologist for some karma points – the Ned Flanders-type sickly saccharine comportment that every aspect of United is wonderful – that cabin crew are deities, that United employees are your extended family, that every employee should be commended just for doing the most basic duties of their job, and that a United salad is a truly divine experience akin to a dinner at The French Laundry. Hmmm, no. I could wear the wool coat, but it really wouldn’t make me a sheep.

Most of all, as I kind of check myself, I’m wondering why I really expended so much effort in actually caring about the number of the seats. Really, there are much larger things about which to worry, and most of all – I get to go flying tomorrow. I’m appreciative of such a simple trip, with the busyness of the semester not really allowing me much time to mileage run. So, to hell with irregular operations worries, really. I’m simply excited to put some distance between me and the earth tomorrow.

But, hey – with a lighter class load this summer than last summer, I am determined to do a few summer mileage runs through Dallas and Dulles. Maybe I’ll find some real thunderstorms.

-An old friend from college posted the following on Facebook, following my question I recently posed to readers as to whether I should sleep on the floor of Medford airport or find a hotel room during this Saturday’s mileage run to Medford, Oregon:

I got shingles from sleeping on the floor of the airport in Sao Paulo, Brazil. I’m sure Medford ain’t so bad, but you’ve been warned.

Hey, we won’t even have to worry. Per reader advice, I Pricelined a cheap hotel room by Medford airport. The hotel has a complimentary 24-hour airport shuttle (so I won’t involve myself in another debacle where I had to pay over 20 dollars at LAX to a cab driver to take me five minutes off airprot property, and the next morning, walk over to the Marriott, buy an orange juice at their hotel restaurant, skulk around for a few minutes, then furtively board their airport shuttle back to the airport), wireless internet, and according to Google Maps, a taqueria nearby where I can continue my ongoing quest to sample Mexican food and find acceptable California burritos outside of California. The airport shuttle will come very much in handy for my 9.30pm arrival in Medford (well, who knows at what time the flight will actually arrive, based on United’s schedule padding), and a 6am departure the next morning.

Glad I Pricelined. I really don’t want to give those chislers at Hilton another dime after their bewildering points devaluation.

-BTW: Saturday’s mileage run routing will take me from La Guardia (LGA) – Dulles (IAD) – Dallas (DFW) – Los Angeles (LAX) (With ample time for In-N-Out and plane spotting) – San Francisco (SFO) – Medford (MFD). The next day, we’ll run MFD – Denver (DEN) – La Guardia.

Most of the mileage run is another Regional Jet Tour of America. I enjoyed the first one so much, I thought I’d try it again! And, as someone who prays for irregular operations, I’m hoping I might run into a few in the thunderstorm prone Dulles, Denver, and Dallas (I once was on an American 777 bound for Frankfurt that shut down its engines on the apron as we waited out the storm). Sadly, as of now, the weather looks sunny and beautiful in most places.

-It’s my first brush with United’s Unlimited Domestic Upgrades shbang. All segments except the DEN – LGA leg have cleared, as of yesterday. DEN – LGA was a tough upgrade, even with upgrade instruments. Even on a 757, with 24 first class chairs, it might be a toughie. As I’ve mentioned before, I really don’t fly for upgrades. I sleep better in economy, and really dislike subjecting myself to United Airlines’ food offerings. Most of my flights are on regional jets, anyway, which, actually, I truly don’t mind. First class on a regional jet only garners you an expertly arranged snack box filled with chemically enhanced items that would survive the blast of a nuclear weapon, and bilge-water wine in a plastic cup (the perfect pairing with the breadsticks and the cheese spread that really can’t be classified in shelf life, but half life).

I plan to spend the run studying for the fourth organic chemistry midterm, on the last day of class, next Friday (!) and some MCAT prep. Hey, I study much better in a tube. Maybe I’d better book a few mileage runs for finals studying week.

-I still can’t decide on which new frequent flyer plan to accrue miles. We’ll hash out those thrilling details another time, though, because I have to run.

Anyway, lookin’ for a bit of reader savoir faire. Here’s the sitch: I’m mileage running for the first time this spring semester. I just couldn’t help it – I get wanderlust, and need to take to the skies. My run will take me from New York, to Dulles, to Dallas, to Los Angeles, to San Francisco to Medford, Oregon. I’m going to post more on my new (and hopefully improved) MR strategy and why I chose these particular cities in a few days.

I arrive in Medford at 9.30pm on Saturday night, and my return flights to New York begin the next day with a Medford – Denver run at glorious 6am. My question – should I grab a hotel for those few hours, or just sleep on the floor of Medford airport?

Some particulars: I do enjoy overnight mileage runs. Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind staying up all night, but as exciting as Medford and I-5 truly are, I’m just not quite sure what one could do all night. On my first ever mileage run, a truly ignorant, neophyte, yet wonderful run, I found myself in Saint Louis all night. I had a wonderful time – I saw the arch, went to an absolutely amazing blues club, had a conversation with a big black man named George, who tried to sell me on his eBay business, urinated in the Mississippi river, ate at a marvelous all night diner, and headed back to the airport to catch a 6am flight. I’m not sure if there would exist such a grand time in Medford.

Furthermore, rooms at a Hilton chain are about 100 bucks. Yeah, 100 bucks isn’t much in the grand scheme o’ things, but to spend 100 bucks for just a few hours of sleep might be a bit questionable. Chances are I’d have leave for the airport around 4.30am, or so. But, I might pick up some points (as much as I hate Hilton points, I do still have status with those points-devaluating-customer-squeezing-jerks).

Of course, sleeping in the airport may be moot if Medford, as some tiny fields are known to do, closes in the later hours. Just to avoid hassle, I may suck it up and spend the money, just to avoid being shoved out on my sorry ass at midnight an sleeping underneath the Holiday Inn courtesy shuttle.

Readers weigh in! Hotel, floor, or Harley Davidson motorcycle gang bar all night! Hit the comments, or e-mail waapblog@gmail.com!

(Oh, and get your taxes done. You have 30 minutes, or so, on the East Coast, as of this posting).

Goodness gracious, what a mileage run. I’d better break it down, flight by flight, to best rehash the insanity. Warning: it’s a lonnnnnnng rundown, of an even longer day, but hope you will enjoy the nerdy mileage run goodness.

Overnight at JFK and Doubletree JFK Review: To avoid the 3.30am A-train ride to the airport, I overnighted at the Doubletree, near JFK.  I decided to overnight because the A-train,  running local from 125th street in Harlem to JFK, makes no fewer than 300 stops, and takes close to two hours to get to JFK. I swear – sometimes, they must open doors between stations just to see if they can add a stop. I burned 30,000 Hilton HHonors points for the night, wanting to make drain my account in anticipation of no longer collecting points with Hilton because of their asinine award chart devaluation. Well, what a waste of 30,000 points. I’m quite disappointed, and can say, with confidence, do not stay here.

The hotel is simply run and maintained in a slipshod manner. It was an inauspicious beginning since I called for the hotel shuttle at Federal Circle AirTrain station, and what looked like a dented pedophile’s van stamped with the Doubletree logo, pulled up to the curve. I swung open the doors, climbed in, and the driver simply grunted, “Going to the Doubletree?” No, sir, I’m going to the fucking Hampton Inn, because your pervert van is stamped with a Doubletree logo. Inside, the van looked like a vehicle used to smuggle immigrants across the border, with most of its side panels removed, which is common place to hid people for smuggling people. Worst of all, when we arrived at the hotel, I think he expected a tip. Now, I am morally against tipping shuttle drivers (if you advertise your shuttle as complimentary, and the driver sure as hell ain’t collecting his wages solely in tips, why should I shell out more money for a driver doing his job?) but, in this case, his desire for a tip was even more laughable. If you even want me to think about tipping, at least get out of the van, and open the doors for me. Gee, why didn’t I just drive the van myself to the hotel?

But, I’m not going to dismiss a hotel based on its van. No – I could begin to dismiss a hotel based on its front desk staff, as a semaphore that the experience is rapidly about to burst into flames. Now, I’m not one who needs sycophantic, obsequious behavior from a hotel staff member to remind me and thank me for my Hilton Gold status, but, I would like some basic human acknowledgment. The ex-con working the front desk, with a chinstrap, and, I’m sure, a switchblade under his polyester suit (in case someone gets a little too cute and demands an extra Doubletree check-in cookie), didn’t even acknowledge my presence in line, and without a clear communication cue, I wasn’t sure if he was actively checking people in. When I approached the desk, he simply grunted, “Last name?” (he and the van driver must’ve been in the same training courses), asked if I’d like a king bed (no, I’d rather have a rollaway cot by the fire exit), and then simply shoved a packet of materials at me. Again, I don’t need to have my Gold Status acknowledged, but as someone who is relatively new to Gold status, I would’ve liked to know what benefits Golds receive in this particular property. Apparently, it is only a letter fraught with typos, that looks as if it was printed on a mimeograph machine circa-1954, and addressed to “Ms. Roberge” (beg pardon?), late checkout, and a breakfast coupon that I couldn’t use because of my early departure. What a nice welcome to the hotel! I don’t care if you’re elite, or not, but that greeting is entirely bereft of humanity. Even the elevators themselves were shabby, more befitting of parking garage elevators, and had this, I soon came to realize, supremely irritating quality of not making an indicator noise when the doors opened. Now, this may sound a bit petty, but I don’t think people realize the importance of the elevator opening noise. With three elevators, I kept wondering why the elevator would not arrive despite pressing the button multiple times. In my tired-from-the-week haze, it took me a bit to realize that the elevator had arrived several times, but I had just not heard the door.

The room itself was mostly fine – clean, and and a squishy enough bed bereft of anything crawling. I had been upgraded to an “Executive Room.” Apparently, “Executive Room” means an additional quarter couch-type piece of furniture (looks as if someone took a Sawzall and hacked out a section of a normal-length couch, and then sold it a discount furniture liquidator store on the interstate somewhere). There existed a noticeable dearth of power outlets in the room – only four – the majority of which were occupied by desk lamps, the only source of light in the room. I had to play a kind of roulette to decide between which items of my phone, camera, and laptop to charge, and ample light. I found the bathroom rather deplorable: bleakly lit, sink cracked, metal handicapped bars rusting, and barely any hot water for a shower. Look, I’m not too picky of a person – but, these little items, for supposedly a more upscale Hilton-family property, made spending 30,000 points seem like an utter waste – which, well, it was. Caveat emptor, I know, but I feel like writing Hilton and asking for some of them back.

Next Morning: I awoke at 4am, and headed downstairs shortly thereafter to catch the 4.30am shuttle. Cripes, it was early still, but at least I wasn’t riding the A-train. What a pity to leave the hotel that early – looking at the Calendar of the day’s events, I was going to miss the Revival Center Prayer Church breakfast at 9am, and the “Living in God’s Provision” segment that followed. I should’ve called United right there to see if the could change my flights. What a pity.

Only a few people took the shuttle at that early hour. On board was a family of four, a mother, father, son and daughter. I found the family notable only because of their permitted of standard dress and appearance for their two young children. The son, with a hideous bleached strip down the center of his hair, was only wearing a short-sleaved shirt on a freezing NY morning. The daughter was bedecked in a matching pink-velour sweatsuit, and smacking gum so loudly, the windows in Astoria rattled. Kudos, parents. You’re demonstrating negligence with your son, and letting your daughter dress as if it’s the morning after a night in Las Vegas of too many of those three-foot-tall alcoholic slushies that come in containers that look like novelty-sized chemistry lab equipment and an afterparty of cocaine and bodyshots in the hotel room of a group of Long Beach State Sigma Chi frat brothers. At least give her her dignity when she’s eight years old.

I arrived at JFK, initially wondering why I had taken the 4.30am shuttle when the ride from the hotel took about seven minutes. Then, I saw the security line that reached all the way to the terminal entrance. After 15 minutes of waiting in one line, the typically sharp TSA figured out that two stations, with two sets of security screeners and breaking travelers into two lines would make the entire security screening process move more quickly. I don’t know how they figured it out. Must’ve taken some advanced math. I headed through security, and sat to wait for my flight to Washington Dulles, with Amanda Knox news blaring from the overhead CNN monitor.

JFK – Washington, Dulles (IAD), CRJ-200:

Uneventful flight. Arrived at Dulles at the A-gates. Briefly contemplated a Five Guys Burger for breakfast, but stopped myself, when I remembered I would consume upwards of 5,000 calories at In-N-Out at LAX later that day. Met friend of the blog CP@YOW briefly at the gate (he arrived from Pittsburgh, on a mileage run of his own, on the same airplane that would take me to Dallas).

IAD – Dallas/Fort Worth (DFW), Embraer 170:

Uneventful flight. Passed out after takeoff. Vibrant, funny crew (what I saw of them before falling asleep). Flight went out, finally 68 of 70. Gate Agent even put my name on the VDB list, but, no luck. Snow began to fall in Dulles as we pushed off the gate, and each regional airplane headed to the pad for deicing. I had never been deiced before – I had seen it, but, had never personally experienced being deiced. I thought it was pretty cool . First, some guy in a cherrypicker sprays the wings an fuselage with a fluid that looks like an orange highlighter stain. Then, he comes around, and sprays them again with fluorescent green highlighter fluid, for good measure. Had no idea deicing fluid came in designer colors. BTW: Absolutely love the 170 – such a sweet, sweet airplane. Oh, and still not dead yet, after two regional airplane flights, as I thought would happen, based on the histrionic ravings of some FlyerTalkers.

DFW – Los Angeles (LAX), CRJ-700:

I love DFW. I hadn’t been to American Airlines country since December, 2006, when I flew DFW – Frankfurt on the eponymous leaders of the country. With the billions of AA airplanes lying around DFW, it feels a bit sneaky, even rebellious, to roll through the grounds on another airline. Upon arrival into DFW, I realized I had a missed call from the main United phone number (we frequent UA flyers all recognize the 1-800-864 – and then, don’t know the rest). Oh, boy, I thought – finally – the irregular operations for which I had been hoping, had surfaced. Indeed – because of Dulles weather, my redeye that night, San Diego – IAD, had been canceled! Sweet! Furthermore, United hadn’t forced me onto a rebooked set of flights – yet. The DFW gate agent said I could either head back, nonstop, to New York, from Los Angeles later that evening, or head back from Los Angeles to Dulles, then connect up to New York, on the last flight of my original itinerary. I said I’d have to wait to see what I wanted to do.

Waiting for my flight, I rode the beautiful SkyTrain around DFW, and admired the tens of thousand of American Airlines airplanes in various states of servicing. I also checked out the Lufthansa lounge at gate D21 – highly disappointing, and not even comparable to the Senator Lounge at Dulles. Basically, an RCC with free booze.

Flight to LAX was quite nice. I generally find Skywest employees pretty excellent – and they seemed to have a flair for making first class on a regional jet remotely dignifying. They even pre-opened the snack boxes for people, and made a display of all the horrendous, processed, artificial items. A nice touch – but still, can’t hide the crud inside the United snackboxes. At least the remaining supplies radioactive can of pasta United Express used to serve has been buried deeply within the earth, where their half lives will allow them to decompose in 28 billion years, and no long harm any United Express passengers. I read my organic chemistry textbook, and took a quick nap.

LAX – Carlsbad (CLD), Embraer 120:

Once on the ground at LAX, I immediately motored outside security, and caught the ostentatious Parking Spot shuttle on the lower level to the garage. Using of the Parking Spot’s services is a well-known trick among FlyerTalkers, with the Parking Spot garage located on Sepulveda, next to the LAX In-N-Out burger. I hadn’t had a chance to hit In-N-Out when I was home in San Francisco over winter break, and decided I would have to make the trek on a mileage run to California. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to take advantage of the Parking Spot shuttle – a two minute ride from the United terminal, hop off the bus, and then, head through a gate that Parking Spot themselves has placed with information that the In-N-Out tabernacle lies just across the parking lot. The Parking Spot staff must know people are heading to In-N-Out, but must really not care.

I enjoyed an always-divine meal under the final approach paths of one of the LAX runways – and simply stared in simultaneous awe of the taste of food hand-crafted by a god in my mouth, and airplanes screaming towards the runway threshold so closely it felt as if I could reach out and grab one, if I wanted. I wish I had had more time – I could’ve easily spent another hour watching planes land, and, oh, probably eating another Double Double, but with my flight for Carlsbad departing in an hour, I hopped on the Parking Spot shuttle back to the terminal, went through security (wow – couldn’t believe the ease of LAX security that day – normally, I would rank their TSA among the most incompetent in this country, along with Dulles and La Guardia. They, of course, had to screw something up – one agent taking issue with the appearance of my iPhone on the x-ray monitor, and another agent countering that it was much too small, who cares, just keep the belt moving. Their exchange lasted a good 30 seconds).

Once through security, I headed to customer service, and inquired about alternate flight options. The agent informed me the Dulles flight that I had originally been offered, was now full, and massively oversold! No! I had my chance to be part of a massive oversell, and I had missed it. Why hadn’t my addled brain considered the fact that with a SAN – IAD cancellation, the most pertinent outcome would be to get those displaced passengers to Los Angeles, and then get them to Dulles! I had made a terrible mistake. Now, it looked as if my only option would be to grab a seat on the conspicuously-undersold LAX – JFK redeye.

Crestfallen, I got on the phone to the 1K desk, where, I received an agent in India. After taking, 15 minutes to explain my itinerary and situation to him, and have him continually question where I was (I told him I was in Los Angeles, awaiting the flight to Carlsbad, and he said, “Okay, so you are in New York still). He told me that I had been protected on the LAX – JFK flight, but, he could protect me, as well, on the LAX – IAD flight. Score! Sounded good to me. He told me he would have to delete one of the last flights on the itinerary, my LAX – SAN, flight, because he could not get me back to LAX for the redeye, because the SAN – LAX flight, on the same aircraft, “[was] completely sold out.” Stay tuned for that development. The agent told me my reservation was being sent to ticketing for final processing (always sketch when the international call center tell you your reservation is being sent somewhere), and once I got back to LA, it would be finalized.

I boarded the flight to Carlsbad – still perplexed about my reservation status (I had just received an e-mail confirmation from United showing I was booked on both the LAX – JFK and LAX – IAD flights – uh oh!), but excited to fly the Embraer 120 for the first time. Seat 9C was wonderful – plenty of legroom, and the airplane was just as much fun as I had originally anticipated. Let me say – that thing hauuuuuuls. It’s noise level, especially when the engines are spooled to about 98% for takeoff, is incomparable, and simply enormous. The flight to Carlsbad takes 20 minutes – a climb, a five minute cruise, and a descent where we were buffeted and thrashed about in the wind and turbulence.

At one point, I saw the lone flight attendant talk on the interphone for a few minutes, then head back, and clinging to another passengers seat in the turbulent approach, say, “Is your name Gray?” Oh crap, I thought – here it comes – Police will be meeting you on the ground at Carlsbad. We know you’re a mileage runner. “Yes,” I responded. “Are you going to Kennedy or Dulles?” she asked. Apparently, the flight deck had been radioed that I had been scheduled to fly back on the same airplane, straight to Los Angeles, and they thought it was some sort of mistake – the flight deck was confused, she was confused, and the Carlsbad staff had no idea what the hell was going on. I told her I was flying for the miles (well, it was the truth). Amused, she told me to stay on the airplane, and that customer service would bring me my boarding pass for the flight back to Los Angeles.

On the ground, I waited with the crew. The pilots emerged, and asked “Is this the guy?” The first officer, a really nice young pilot (props to him – he was probably making 22,000 dollars a year in that right seat) asked me what in god’s name I was doing and how he and the captain had never heard of such a thing. He was clearly amused, as well. I also told him that I wanted to fly the 120 for the first time, which cracked him up, as well, and he asked if it was too my standards. The next FA for the trip back to LAX boarded, as well. The even more amused customer service rep came aboard, shaking his head, and handed me my boarding passes – one to LA, and uh oh – the next to JFK! Looks like the reservation had been screwed up, somehow. In the few remaining minutes of boarding (a total of four passengers showed up for the flight), I called the 1K desk, and got another agent, who said, in her 20 years at United, she had never seen such a reservation. With only seconds to go before departure, she managed to confirm me on the Dulles flight.

With only four passengers, the wonderful and affable flight attendant, Katie, first addressed the four male passengers as “Ladies and Gentlemen,” then – corrected herself, laughing, to just “Gentlemen.” She might be the best flight attendant I have ever had – on the short flight, she passed through the cabin chatting with each passenger individually. Fun stuff.

On the ground at LAX, I called the 1K desk again, and thankfully, reached a simply wonderful Honolulu agent, who, at first, thought she couldn’t make any changes to the reservation, somehow managed to confirm me to my requested set of flights, which, I thought would never, ever work. Surprisingly, she reinstated my LAX – SAN leg, and then confirmed me on the SAN – LAX flight, and the LAX – IAD flights, while removing the LAX – JFK reservation. I could not believe my fortune. I was pleased to be back on my original flights, mostly, because I did not want to sit around LAX for six hours, awaiting the redeye. A similarly wonderful, fun, and amused customer service agent reissued the tickets (in full Y!), and laughed at us mileage runners, saying, “They’re going to get you some day,” and said she couldn’t wait to see Up in the Air. Simply a day of wonderful United employees, that, frankly, made up for all the surly, indifferent, or belligerent crews with whom I had flown in the past.

LAX – SAN, Embraer 120:

Another excellent flight attendant – like a hilarious school teacher – if someone talked during her announcements, she would eye them severely until they stopped – then, would say, “Now, I don’t remember where to begin the announcements,” and wait for a passenger to tell her where she had left off. Cracked me up.

Upon landing at SAN’s commuter terminal, I noticed one could not reenter the gate area without exiting the secure area – and, on the left, stood the group of people waiting to reboard the flight. I noticed another guy talking to a ramp agent that he needed to return on the SAN – LAX flight, and could he be taken inside the boarding area – and that he was returning for the frequent flyer miles. I hastily added that I needed to board the flight as well, for the miles. The confused ramp agent – who said he had never seen anything like this before – took us both around to the secure area, where both our boarding passes were scanned. At one point, the other guy, turned to me, and said, “FlyerTalk?” He was on a mileage run, as well.

SAN – LAX, Embraer 120.

Chatted with my new flying friend about mileage running, and continuing on the redeye to Dulles! I love this aspect of the mileage run – the random encounters of people crazed for miles.

Flight attendant was supremely amused  that we both had returned.

LAX – IAD, Boeing 767-300ER

My MR-buddy and I motored to the gate for , where a line had already formed for the one gate agent. Why, on Earth, would United board a widebody airplane with only one gate agent? When I finally reached the podium, the agent, after I asked if she need volunteers, called my immediate bluff – all the while looking at me with a-I-can-tell-you’re-bullshitting-one-eyebrow-cocked expression – she knew exactly what was up. “Well, you’re going to JFK, so I can put you on the nonstop to JFK right now, but it’ll only be a 100 dollar voucher.” I told her I was looking to preserve the integrity of my original itinerary, with collecting the frequent flyer miles, and she smirked, and told me that I would have to wait. Oh, and I was first on the upgrade list with zero first class seats remaining. At the gate, I ran into a fellow FlyerTalker/mileage runner, Ryan, with whom I had done a few mileage runs in the past. As it turns out, he and his girlfriend, with whom he was mileage running (what a girl! seriously – how did he find a girl is willing to mileage run?), the gate agent had given him the same I-see-your-B.S.-tactics – “I can put you on the nonstop to Boston.” It was great to see Ryan, chat, and commiserate about the vagaries of the mileage run world, and simply joke about our collective nerdiness. Soon, sadly, the gate agent made a sarcastic announcement saying, “Thanks for all my volunteers – but, I will not be needing your services this evening.” Hey – props to her – it’s always funny to be put in your place by a UA agent who knows exactly what’s up, and this time, toys with the FlyerTalkers, instead of FlyerTalkers trying to toy with UA employees.

Thus, we boarded, and I took my seat in Economy, exhausted from flying eight segments. At that point, I didn’t really care that I hadn’t been upgraded. I just wanted to head to sleep.

BTW – what is up with United’s conflicting messages? The customer service rep told me the flight was massively oversold – yet, it went out with six empty seats. What happened? Were people moved to alternate flights? Did people miss this flight? Or, was it actually ever oversold? SeatCounter.com had the flight at full zeroes for most of the day.

Simply, I will never understand United’s inventory management.

Not a bad redeye, though. Got solid sleep, and awoke when the captain asked the FAs to prepare for landing.

IAD – LGA, CRJ-200

Ryan was nice enough to guest me into the Red Carpet Club, after getting some guff from the lounge dragon about the mind-boggling discrepancy that he presented his bmi Gold card for lounge access, yet didn’t have his bmi Gold status printed on his boarding pass. A bit petty at 6.30am.

I stood by for the 8.09am departure for LaGuardia, having no desire to fly to JFK, and brave the 12 forms of public transit from the airport, as opposed to one from LGA. I fell asleep for most of the flight, to awake to the famous approach where the airplanes wrap around the new Mets ballpark, CitiField, on final approach. We touched down, on time, in LGA. I quickly headed outside, caught the M60, and headed back to my apartment for a longer nap.

So endeth the Regional Airplane Tour of America. A wildly fun day, with, sadly, a set of calculated moves and tactics that didn’t culminate in my being bumped off the flight, but mileage runs are always wild, unique experiences, nonetheless.

Oh, and all the regional jets didn’t cause me to become permanently disfigured. I hope some FlyerTalkers will become convinced regional airplanes aren’t entirely hazardous to one’s health. Maybe the complaints will even subside a bit, as will the histrionics worthy of a Broadway production. I doubt it – but, I’ll gladly fly another regional airplane again. Especially the 120.

Anyway, off to catch the airport shuttle to JFK, and catch the first flight of the day from JFK to Dulles. The Regional Airplane Tour of America gets underway in just a bit.

I’ll check in soon.

I had the idea for the Regional Airplane Tour of America some months ago, after reading yet another hyperbolic and self-pitying set of posts on FlyerTalk about how a flight on a regional jet is roughly akin to opening the seventh seal. I believe the posts encompassed United’s planned launch of San Francisco – Kansas City nonstop service, with a Canadair Regional Jet. Instead of actually discussing the merits, benefits, detriments, and potential of the new routes, the FlyerTalk thread devolved into a set of adults crying how they couldn’t put their sensitive posteriors in a regional airplane for more than 15 minutes before the dramatic exaggerations of pain, suffering, and infinite sorrow. That is why, folks, I plan to try to put an end to the whining by making many stops, tomorrow, on regional and turboprop airplanes, to show it really isn’t the life travesty people purport it to be. Seriously – what’s wrong with sitting in a slightly smaller seat, with slightly reduced legroom, for a few hours? Honestly – it won’t be that bad.

The festivities will be as follows:

1. New York JFK (JFK) to Washington, Dulles (IAD) on a CRJ-200;

2. IAD to Dallas/Fort Worth (DFW) on an Embraer 170;

3. DFW to Los Angeles (LAX) on a CRJ-700;

4. LAX – Carlsbad (CLD) on an Embraer 120;

5. CLD – LAX, Embraer 120;

6. LAX – San Diego (SAN), Embraer 120;

7. SAN – IAD, Airbus A320 (the only mainline segment of the run – but – I’m not upgrading on the redeye);

8. IAD – JFK, Embraer 145 (hopefully, I’ll be able to switch that to JFK – LGA for ease of returning home to my apartment – just hop on the M60).

Some Notables:

-I believe the routing covers every single type of regional airplane that United Express flies, except for the Dash-8, supposedly flown by Mesa out of the Phoenix area, though, I have never, ever seen one in the United Express livery, and therefore, do not believe them to exist .

-I get to fly the Embraer 120 for the first time! I’m super excited to fly United’s tiniest airplane, known for great views, epic noise, vibration, and perhaps the best domestic economy class seats, 9B/C, with football fields of legroom. I’ll be buffeted by the wind on three flights tomorrow, all of about 100 miles

-Dulles has snow and rain in the forecast! Hopefully, it’ll begin before I arrive from New York, and cause some epic delays and travel fun.

-Sadly, though – no flights appear full. The fullest flight is the LAX – CLD Embraer 120, with six seats remaining. I am, therefore, not expecting any bumps because of oversold flights, and I will have to hope weather or canceled flights to create some irregular ops fun. As I’ve said before, I really like when mileage runs go awry. They’re a bit too blase if each segment proceeds as planned. Sadly, I haven’t been visited by the oversold fairy too many times this year, and my most recent mileage runs and trips home have gone too smoothly. Let’s pray for irrops tomorrow!

I’ll report tomorrow morning when departing for JFK, readying to begin the Regional Airplane Tour of America, at 6am, Eastern Time. I’ll have some blog updates throughout the day, but you can always follow more up-to-the-minute progress, of course, on Twitter.

On with the Tour!