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My Flight from Athens to Atlanta
No, Seriously. I Flew. You Can, Too!
case you've missed the "FLY to
ATL" billboards that have recently
popped up all over town, there is
a new way to get to the big A that doesn't
involve 85, 316 or 78. Two airlines, Wings Air
(the company featured on the billboards) and
GeorgiaSkies, offer daily, round-trip flights
from Athens and Atlanta.
As a quick introduction, here is how the
two airlines differ and what they purport
to offer. GeorgiaSkies is the less expensive
option, with one-way tickets costing $49.
That's just $4 more than the AAA shuttle
van, and there are reduced fare specials
fairly frequently. Due to access restrictions
at Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson International
Airport, GeorgiaSkies temporarily operates
from the Atlantic Aviation Terminal, a small
building detached from the rest of the air
port. GeorgiaSkies is diligently petitioning
Hartsfield-Jackson for a spot in the T-Gates,
but for now, you just have to take a free shut
tle from Atlantic Aviation to the main terminal
upon arrival. On the other hand, for $79,
Wings Air will take you directly to the T-Gates.
If you need to catch a connecting flight, this
is a huge advantage, not only in its proximity
to other gates, but because
you get to go through secu
rity in Athens and avoid the
long lines of the Atlanta air
port entirely. With both air
lines, you get to park for free
at Ben Epps, and of course
the travel time is, theoreti
cally, much faster than by car.
On average, you spend about
half an hour in the air—but
that doesn't take into account
arriving half an hour ahead of
time for check-in plus taxi-ing
and other potential delays.
Just because you are avoiding
traffic on the ground doesn't
save you from all the traffic
30,000 feet above the world's
busiest airport.
My interest in GeorgiaSkies in particular
was piqued after receiving an email about its
holiday promotion that offered free flights
Dec. 24-26 on a first-come-first-served basis.
Well, I wasn't the first to sign up. In fact, I
missed the reservation deadline entirely, but
I was able to score a free "media pass," none
theless. Despite putting in my request a day or
two after the promotion ended, I had my pick
of numerous flight times, suggesting that even
at the going rate of $0, the demand for these
seats was still low.
Once my trip was confirmed, I enthusiasti
cally shared the details of my travel plans
with friends and family in Atlanta. My friends
laughed. My parents cried. My pals thought
that traveling by plane over a distance that's
reasonably drivable was excessive and absurd.
My folks gnawed on their fingernails at visions
of tiny propellor planes perilously shak
ing their way through low-hanging clouds.
I wasn't particularly concerned about the
latter, having complete confidence in the
GeorgiaSkies crew and fleet, but I did have my
doubts about the practicality of air travel to
Atlanta from Athens. With those concerns in
mind, I packed my overnight bag and prepared
for a unique journey which, for the first time,
excited me more than my destination.
Everything about the Ben Epps airport
felt surreal to me as I pulled in half an hour
before my departure time. The small, quiet
terminal with its one TV, assorted avia
tion magazines and six waiting passengers
felt more like a doctor's office than an air
port. There was no line as I approached the
GeorgiaSkies counter. "I have a reservation for
the 2:30 p.m. flight," I told the attendant.
"Are you Michelle?" He knew immediately. He
weighed my bag and asked for my weight, as
well. Taken by surprise, I lied by about 10
pounds, realizing the purpose of his inquiry
soon after and then anxiously regretting my
outburst, hoping my vanity wouldn't send our
plane crashing down. And I had plenty of time
to feel anxious. The Atlanta airporTwas expe
riencing problems with its air traffic control
system, and my flight wound up being delayed
two and a half hours. Chagrined, I called all
waiting parties—my Atlanta buddies scoffed:
"In that time you could drive here and back!"
My parents nearly had a heart attack. "It's not
worth it!" they cried, at news of trouble in the
air. "It's too dangerous!"
After an hour of watching Fox news, I
decided that it really wasn't worth it, at least
not today. I could visit Atlanta tomorrow, and
in the meantime I had better things to do
with my day off. Flight delays happen all the
time, but when your delay is nearly twice that
of the driving time, it starts to feel a little
silly. The passengers around me didn't seem
too bothered, although I heard an attendant
at Wings Air arranging ground transporta
tion for one passenger who was in danger of
missing her connecting flight. A GeorgiaSkies
passenger called his buddy and asked him to
bring a board name to pass the time.
Without any hassle, I rescheduled my trip
for the following afternoon. The next day, I
left my house at 2:15 p.m. to catch my 3:05
p.m. flight. Luckily the delay was minimal
today, and by 3:20 p.m. three other pas
sengers and I were climbing up the steps of
the Cessna Caravan 208B and ducking inside
the cabin. I was placed in the third ro v with
an unobrtructed view of the cockpit which, I
must admit, I was pretty excited about. This
was my first time on a propeller plane, and
I was all giddy about being able to watch
the pilot and captain push buttons and turn
knobs. As our plane lifted off the short run
way, the world of delays and traffic and even
time itself seemed to slip away. There were
no traffic lights, no speeding tickets and no
fender benders. Just the whirl of trie propel
lers, cottony clouds as far as the eye could
see, and the beeps and buzz of cockpit gad-
getry (all the noises, we were assured before
takeoff, were simply procedural). By the
time my watch read 3.33 p.m., the captain
announced that we had reached our cruising
altitude of 6,000 feet and would begin our
descent in about 25 minutes. How could I ever
drive to Atlanta again?
The free shuttle was waiting to take us to
the main terminal upon our arrival in Atlanta.
' I made my way to MARTA and reached my
final destination in Midtown at exactly 5 p.m.
The entire journey took two hours and 45
minutes-r-an hour longer than it would have
taken me to drive directly there.
The next day I made my way down to door
L-S2 at the airport where I was told the same
shuttle would be waiting. When I arrived,
about an hour before my 2 p.m. flight, there
was no GeorgiaSkies signage, no representa
tives nor a shuttle van. When the clock struck
1:25 p.m. I started getting nervous, so I
called GeorgiaSkies customer service. I was
immediately put on hold and forced to listen
to Kenny G Christmas songs for nearly 15
minutes. The operator finally told me that the
shuttle comes by "periodically" to check for
passengers, and she would put : n a call to tell
them I was there. They really made me sweat
this time—the shuttle arrived just 10 minutes
before I was supposed to take off. Perhaps
GeorgiaSkies should consider
making the pick-up time more
firm, say 45 minutes before
departure, or at least provide
a separate phone number
to directly request a shuttle
upon arrival.
I rushed through check-in,
the clock on the wall read
1:55 p.m., but my heart raced
in vain—we wouldn't be
going anywhere for another
hour.
At least the Atlanta ter
minal was a pleasant place to
wait. There was free Internet
and the decor felt modern and
warm—like a contemporary
hotel lobby. I believe this is
where private jets and the
like come in, so it has to be swank for the
V.I.P. passengers. As it turns out, I felt pretty
important myself—I was the only passenger
on the flight to Athens. Now, for the sake of
the airline's financial future, I certainly hope
this doesn't happen often, but damn, it was
pretty cool—at least, at first. As we waited
our turn on the runway, shaking from the
vibrations of the roaring jet engines taking off
ahead of us, I felt incredibly guilty. I mean,
here was this $1.9 million machine, filled with
however many hundreds of gallons of fuel plus
a pilot and a captain all b : -ed to take little
old me to Athens from Atlanta... and I wasn't
even paying a cent!
I closed my eyes as we took off, crunching
numbers and estimating the overhead costs,
carbon footprint and potential profits. Before
I could figure out how many passengers they
would need a day to stay in business, we
dipped under the clouds, revealing a spectacu
lar view of downtown Athens. Minutes later I
was home.
When I was flying GeorgiaSkies, everything
really was exceptional, but an airline that
traverses such short distances simply can
not afford the same delays as other airlines.
I would certainly recommend GeorgiaSkies to
others, but mostly for the novelty of the ride
rather than the advantages of the service.
Michelle Gilzenrat
www.painandwonder.com
(706) 208*9588
285 W. Washington St.
Athens, Georgia 30601
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JANUARY 7, 2009 • FLAGP0LE.COM 9