The following runs-down the festivities of the Regional Airplane Tour of America, which I chronicled in an earlier post. Click here to read the background and philosophy of this mileage run.

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.