Anne Truitt Zelenka

My husband Rick is a pro traveler; I’m the amateur in the family.

I’m on my way to Mashup Camp 3 in Boston. I thought a lot about how to get to the airport before deciding on taking SuperShuttle. Our neighborhood streets are still mostly impassable unless you have an SUV, and I didn’t want to leave Rick without our four-wheel-drive car for the week. Besides, parking at the airport is expensive, especially because I don’t like to park in the satellite lots if it’s going to be dark when I leave or return. My dad is always willing to take trips out to the airport, but my flight is scheduled for 8:30 am and I didn’t want him to have to get up so early.

But SuperShuttle is not without it’s problems. You never know whether you’ll be the first (bad) or last (very good) person picked up. It can take you hours to get where you’re going. Still, I figured I’d get it out of the way at the front end of the trip, and then my dad could get me when I return on Friday.

Bad luck for the people who got in the van with me! I was the first picked up and then we drove all over Southeast Denver to pick up two other people. That’s when I realized I had left my cell phone on the kitchen counter. I absolutely hate to ask for favors and put other people out, but I couldn’t see handling the various meetings I have lined up in Boston without my phone. We checked that everyone would have time to catch their flights and the driver agreed to swing back by my house.

I scored the cell phone and we cruised out of our neighborhood, right into a snowdrift. The van was stuck, completely. It was three women in the van plus the driver. We eventually got out and pushed, but that only dug the van in deeper. Now everyone was worried about missing their flights and we still had one more person to pick up.

I called my husband, who was home with the kids. He bundled them up and drove two blocks to help get the van out of the snow. But it didn’t budge. Then I called my dad. He took me and the two other passengers to the airport. The SuperShuttle driver called his dad too–because he lived close by and SuperShuttle wasn’t forthcoming with help.

Being a total travel stress case and thus having arranged a very early pickup, I arrived with plenty of time. Anyway, my husband had upgraded me to first class so I got to use the quick check-in and security lines.

I sure hope the other women made their flights. They were so nice about the whole thing, much nicer than I think I would have been.

Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Rick. Thanks, fellow SuperShuttle passengers. Sorry, SuperShuttle driver.