It was just me, the kids, and my two neighbors—who, at this point, I’ve fully adopted as my brother and sister. It’s easier than explaining that they’re technically just my neighbors. Hubs was off in Kansas racing Unbound (for what I think is his 7th year?), and while he was battling gravel roads and saddle sores, we were about to embark on our own epic journey. Spoiler alert: ours involved escalators, a near TSA escape attempt, and a party bus.
Our flight to Denver was uneventful by airline standards but thrilling by kid standards. The girls were giddy over the seat-back TVs, and there was a very exciting moment when we flew over our house. I mean, how many times do you get to wave at your roof from 30,000 feet? AND then again when flying over your grandparents house? Whether or not Grandma and Grandpa actually saw us is still unclear.) Meanwhile, the littlest tried to sprint through TSA to get to my neighbor—probably thinking our neighbor was going to board a different flight and leave him behind. It was chaos, but the lovable kind.
Denver airport, however, was an adventure. We accidentally had to ride the tram twice (you’re welcome, kids), and then trek to the end of the Earth—aka, the tornado shelter terminal—for our next flight. And let me tell you, walking across the tarmac to board a 9-person prop plane felt VERY celebrity. Except instead of a glass of champagne, I had a backpack full of snacks, one kid desperately needing a nap, and another asking if she got to fly the plane herself.
And the welcome wagon? A party bus. I repeat: A. PARTY. BUS. Nebraska family knows how to make an entrance feel like a red carpet. Our littlest thought it was an actual party just for him. He loved the whole ride.
We arrived at “the farm” to wide open fields and skies so blue it felt like a painting. There was a calm in the air, the kind that makes your shoulders relax even after a long travel day. We did a quick tour, met some cows, and dipped our toes into farm chores. Day one: success.
Run Teach Bike 