The fourth bus of the Apocalypse

I recently traveled to Georgia to speak at an event. The trip out went smoothly. For the return, I arrived at the Atlanta airport early for a flight to Denver, then Bozeman.

That was the itinerary. The weather had prepared a competing proposal.

Back on the interstate, the bus lurched through every curve and pothole. By dawn, the airport was in sight. We perked up. Too soon.

Storms in Denver delayed us in Atlanta for an hour and a half. Once airborne, we took a longer route around the weather, only to learn that Denver was no longer an option.

We diverted to Grand Junction, which is not Denver.

I cannot blame the airline for the weather. Colorado has never shown much interest in coordinating its thunderstorms with commercial aviation.

In