What is it about air travel that gives me gas? Not metaphorical gas, but real, full-blown intenstinal inflation. It must be the cabin pressure, or maybe the dryness in that recirculated air. But midway through the first leg of trip to Park City, Utah, it was getting a little out of control. And airplane gas is the worst kind, because there's nothing you can really do about it. There's no "walking it off," really. No stepping outside to vent the chamber. You're stuck, sitting in uncomfortable seats, way too close to strangers, and your stomach is expanding and contracting like the trash compactor on the Death Star.
And, of course, by the time you make it back to the closet/bathroom, all that pressure magically disappears. Until you sit back down.
Yeah, didn't have a great set of flights. On top of that, Delta lost my luggage. So, after a 12-hour travel day, I finally checked into my hotel unable to shower and change my clothes. I was doing Sundance like a European backpacker, and I smelled about as good.
I love travel.