The Trip That Wouldn’t Start

Most people have their bachelor parties in exotic locations like Las Vegas or dimly lit gentleman’s clubs surrounded by life long friends, adult beverages, and typically slightly under-dressed women. So how did my bachelor party end up miles away in a graveyard overlooking Paul Revere or standing upon the wooden deck of a 229 year old ship? Forever one to stand apart from more modern rituals; I decided I wanted my bachelor party to be a small, more intimate adventure rather than a night of debauchery. With my brother Austin in tow, we decided Boston, Massachusetts would provide the perfect backdrop for this story and found a flight out of Kansas City and soon found ourselves in one of the birthplaces of the American Revolution. But first, there were a few small hurdles that tried to prevent us from even beginning this adventure. The night before our departure, by per happenstance, I managed to awake from my deep sleep and decided to just quickly glance at my inbox and was greeted with one of the worst words a traveler could ever see. Delayed. Unfortunately due to storms in the area, our once 5 AM flight was now rescheduled 7 hours later to now depart at noon.

Now arriving at the airport much later than we expected, we began to learn the true value of patience as our gate would end up changing not once, not twice, not even three times but a staggering five times paired with countless delays. Though we had planned to arrive in Boston by 5:30 PM, we did not touch until well past 1 AM. After a silent Uber ride through the dark streets, we finally found ourselves in our hotel now past the 2 AM hour. As much as Spirit Airlines (RIP) tried to stop us, we were finally in Boston.

To move onwards with us along our journey, click here.