Part 1. Leaving Cranbrook

Well, the trip started out on a pretty good note. Air Canada sent a private jet for us! OK, not really.

We walked into the airport however, and the young girl behind the desk called out: "Mr and Mrs Smitna? Welcome!" I was a little taken aback because while we do know a lot of people in town, I didn't know her. Or did I? I asked how she knew our names, and she gleefully waved the manifest at me and said: "Because you guys are the only ones on the plane!"

I glanced around and saw that the airport was indeed empty, other than a few security guards who waved at us. Very odd feeling indeed. So we went through security, waited in the empty room, watched "our" small jet arrive, and I had to smile to myself as the same girl who greeted us quickly changed jackets and ran to the outer door and made the announcement about "anyone who is pre-boarding with small children." She looked a little sheepish, but she continued with her spiel. I guess rules are rules.

We climbed into our plane and I solemnly informed the pilot (no stewards or stewardesses...oops, pardon me, "flight attendants" on these tiny planes. Actually, no cockpit door either) that I thought I might change seats, more than once, if the other seats weren't taken. He just gave me a look. No fun, these guys. We flew off to Calgary, only to fly though a horrendous snowstorm. I was pretty sure that the plane was going to go down, you know, these are the sorts of things that you hear on the news. "Tragic accident in BC tonight, as a small plane goes down in an unexpected spring snowstorm. The entire crew of 2, as well as all the passengers, again 2, did not survive the fatal crash. It's a miracle, Lloyd, that the plane was nearly empty. It could have been much worse if it had been any other day, with a full load." But we were buffeted safely to Calgary and there we spent the night, wondering if the snow would end up cancelling our flight the next AM.