My wife rode with me to JFK so I could catch the red-eye to Schiphol, Amsterdam. She wished me luck and drove the Forester home. (She has a Moroccan yoga retreat planned in a few days.) The Monday night flight was considerably cheaper than the Sunday night flight. There was a $100 up-charge for the bicycle on an international flight.

 At JFK, I got a cart and headed to the Special Services desks. Luckily, the oversized bag wasn't an issue. The woman at the counter weighed the bag, making sure it was under fifty pounds. She asked if the bike was carbon. (My thinking is that the packaging wasn't appropriate for a carbon bicycle.) I was directed to the oversize conveyor belt. There, I encountered the Most Miserable JetBlue Employee ever. The woman at the conveyor belt did not answer any questions, did not acknowledge my existence, did not look at me. There was a reason she was at the oversize luggage conveyor belt. I put the bike on the belt, watched it enter the bowels of JFK and wished Ms. Misery a wonderful evening.

  The day before I left, I did the Five Boro Bike Tour in my home town.

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