Tripping on Trips

I should pay more attention to the actual cost of things. A movie ticket is fifteen dollars… until you add in concessions, preferred seating, and online processing. A dinner out can be reasonable… until you add in the taxes and tip. And rental car companies add so many fees to the base rate it’s like you’ve just been bumped to a new tax bracket. With that in mind let’s visit the airport today, or more specifically, getting to the airport.

How do I get here?

Flying is expensive; always has been.  But it’s easy to overlook the cost of the airport itself.  Maybe you already know, a portion of the ticket you just bought goes to a landing fee (LF) – what the airline pays the airport for the privilege of pulling up to the gate.  Maybe you also know another portion goes to a passenger facility charge (PFC), which supposedly goes to improvement projects in the name of airport safety and security.

I don’t trust PFCs.  I think they really go to things like art exhibits, children’s play areas, pet relief areas, and smoking lounges.  I mean really, how much less would that plane ticket be if all you had for an airport was a ticket counter, some security and restrooms, and a gate to board your plane? 

You pay dearly for this space

The airport needs more than LF’s and PFC’s to pay its bills, of course.  It’s the reason you pay so much for parking.  I mean, think about it.  Once the parking garage is built it requires little to operate.  Mechanical systems and a few employee salaries yes, but certainly nothing in the neighborhood of say, $30/car/day.  Which brings me to my current conundrum.

By taxi? Cost-prohibitive

Most of you don’t have the following challenge.  When you fly, you’re close enough to the airport to where you can get a ride from a friend or take mass transit.  Me?  I have a choice of three major airports here in the South… but each of them is a two to three hour drive from my house.  Which begs the question, how does Dave get from his house to the airport and back for the least amount of money?

  1. Simple but Expensive.  Dave drives his car to the airport, parks, and drives his car back to his house after he gets back.  Works for short trips but what if I’m gone for three weeks (starting next Saturday)?  Parking at Atlanta-Hartsfield is $30/day (and that’s long-term). Throw in a tank of gas for the car and I’m north of $700 just for the airport to/from.
  2. Simpler but Even More Expensive.  This idea unexpectedly sent me in the wrong direction (financial, not travel).  I put in for a quote for car and driver from a service right here in our little town.  They got back to me almost immediately.  Little did I know my car is a limo and my driver wears a tuxedo.  My wife and I can “sit back and enjoy their ride” for $520 each way.  Gratuity not included.
  3. Slightly Less Expensive.  Here’s a fun option/comparison.  Drive to nearby (tiny) Augusta Regional Airport and fly to Atlanta.  The two round trip tickets plus parking?  Less than the cost of the drive and parking at Atlanta. If flights out of Augusta were ever on time I might actually consider it.
  4. Clever But… Drive to nearby (tiny) Augusta Regional Airport, rent a car, drive to Atlanta, and return the car.  Repeat the procedure in reverse when I return.  No.  The rental car companies want $300+ for Augusta to Atlanta.  Multiply that by two to get back home.
    By shuttle? “Cozy”
  5. Less Expensive but More Cozy.  We have shuttle services nearby; van companies where you share the ride to the airport with strangers.  $200 gets us the trip to Atlanta and back.  Okay, but now we’re driving our car just to get driven by a van just to get flown in a plane.  Seems like a lot.  And you leave when the shuttle service says you leave; not when you really want to.

Five solutions in and I still haven’t made it to Atlanta with any sense of fiscal satisfaction.  I’m starting to think I should just skip the airplane and drive all the way to our destination.  Or ride my bike with a pile of luggage on my back.  But wait!  There’s always 6. Entirely Less Expensive.  Convince local son-in-law to drive us to Atlanta (and back).  He can’t charge me more than the options I presented here, can he?  Er, not if he doesn’t read this blog post first.  I better call him… stat.

Dave meets “Evy”

Renting a car at the airport used to be so hassle-free. You’d book the vehicle online, walk or bus to the parking lot, and bypass the counter by signing up for the company’s free membership program. All of that still happens, so what’s the difference today? You never know what vehicle you’re going to get, even if you choose the make/model ahead of time. And if you’ve never driven an electric vehicle (“Evy”) before, renting one is a real adventure.

Blame it on my laptop keyboard.  As I pecked my way through a recent Avis reservation, I inadvertently chose “Mystery Car” instead of “full-size sedan”.  Mystery car?  What the heck does that mean?  It means more flexibility for the rental car agency.  “Mystery car” means Avis gives you whatever it feels like giving you from its leftover inventory.  Maybe you get what you wanted.  Maybe you get a luxury vehicle for even less.  Or maybe you get Evy like I did.

I admit, I am not with the times of the latest vehicle technology.  I couldn’t tell you the first thing about operating Evy, let alone how she works under the hood.  So there I stood in the Avis parking lot, faced with the prospect of my first miles behind her wheel.  The rental companies should put a beginner’s guide on the driver’s seat for people like me.  I mean, imagine my hesitation (panic?) when I pushed Evy’s start button and nothing happened?  Something happened, of course.  The engine “started”; it just didn’t make any noise.  Yep, this was going to be a different kind of ride.

My first issue with Evy (or at least, the Genesis I rented) is the inexplicable need to make the dashboard wildly different than a conventional vehicle.  You don’t find the basic needs (ex. headlights, windshield wipers) where you expect to.  I actually considered talking to the vehicle instead of pushing random buttons, especially after my seat suddenly firmed up and vibrated when my I let my posture slip a little (“driver safety feature!”)  Seriously, all I’m asking for is dashboard buttons and levers where I expect them to be.

Once I found a modicum of comfort with Evy, the real challenge dawned on me: I have to recharge her before I go back to the airport.  And this, my friends, proved to be a challenge worthy of reality TV.  Those who already know Evy are welcome to say, “Oh c’mon Dave, it’s not that hard!” but truth be told, my charging station experience was just as daunting as the first time I pulled up to a gas pump as a teenager.

Credit Genesis, you can look up the nearest charging station right there on the dashboard.  The search gave me a choice of three.  The first station was in an Urgent Care clinic parking lot… and wasn’t working.  I’ve read that 15% of EV charging stations don’t work so now I’m a believer (EV Charging Flaw #1).

The next charging station option was in a McDonald’s parking lot.  When I arrived, both slots were occupied (EV Charging Flaw #2 – not enough to go around).  I have no problem waiting in line at gas stations but charging Evy takes a lot longer.  So I chose to drive another mile to the third option, a charger in a bank parking lot.  Nope.  No station to be found from one end of the lot to the other.  Genesis needs to update its locator software.

So back to McDonald’s I steamed went (and not for a Happy Meal, mind you).  The charging stations were still occupied, which begs the question, where do you form a line?  If I parked behind either car I’d be blocking their exit.  I’d also be blocking the McDonald’s drive-thru lane.  The only option was the parking space adjacent to the charging stations, with hopes of quickly maneuvering into an available charger before the next person pulls up (EV Charging Flaw #3).

This story only gets worse from here, so let’s keep it brief.  Once a station was finally available, I pulled in only to realize I had to face the car the other way for the charging cable to reach (EV Charging Flaw #4).  Then I tapped my credit card on the charger, only to find you have to download an app to make the station work; no cash or credit accepted (EV Charging Flaw #5).

Fifteen minutes later (because that’s what it takes when you only have one bar of wireless service – grrrrr) I got the app installed, the charging cable connected without electrocution (in pouring rain), and ta-dah… NOTHING!  Nada!  Zilch!  No “PRESS HERE TO CHARGE” or some other obvious way to get things started.  Instead, by the good graces of my EV-knowledgeable brother over the phone, I learned I had to zoom in on the tiny app map, identify the McDonald’s location of my charging station, and tap it (EV Charging Flaw #6).  Suddenly Evy’s gods smiled down on me through the thunderstorm and declared “Charge”.

To say I was giddy to make it back to the airport a day later without a dead Evy is an understatement.  To say I was the target of a sick joke when my very next Avis rental – same day, different airport – was a hybrid is undeniable.  But hey, at least a hybrid gives you the option of gasoline, so you get to fuel up the “old-fashioned way”.  Which brings me, humbly, to declare Dave Flaw #1:  Get to know Evy very, very well before your life – or at least your transportation – depends on her.

Concourses or Golf Courses?

Whenever flying is a part of my travel plans, I wear my most comfortable pair of walking shoes. Long gone are the days of the coat-and-tie-to-fly dress code, in favor of sneakers (and jeans). My reason for rubber-soled kicks used to be, “What if we’re in some kind of accident and I need to get off in a hurry?” Today I go with a wholly different reason. The long, long walk I can expect from curb to concourse to airplane cabin simply demands something easy on the feet.

Here’s a startling comparison.  If you play golf and skip the cart, you’re going to walk over four miles to finish your round.  By almost the same token, if you’re connecting through Dallas-Ft. Worth or Atlanta and choose to walk from Terminal B to Terminal E, you’re going to walk over two miles.  Add in the inevitable search for food, a stop or two at retail, and a visit to the restroom and you’re closer to three miles.  And none of that includes the distance from the curb to the ticket counter, from the counter through security, and from your gate down the jetway to your seat on the plane.

How do they do it in heels?

Now for the bad news.  Airports are only getting bigger, and not for the reasons you might think.  Sure, more people fly than ever before, which adds more planes, more gates, and even more airports.  But behind the scenes a couple of stronger forces are at work.  One, airlines are shifting to larger aircraft, which translates to more space between parked planes.  Two, airport parking revenue is down (thanks to Uber, Lyft, and more mass transit), which translates to the airport’s need to find revenue elsewhere.  Where?  Retail, bars, and restaurants.

Don’t get used to these…

From recent trips through airports, I’ve noticed the following.  In Denver International, remodeled Concourse B is already labeled “Gates 1-100”, even though there aren’t a hundred gates.  It’s a straight-line concourse and it’s only going to get longer.  In Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson, the concourses are so long and narrow (and so crowded), that last gate is farther than you can see without binoculars.  And in San Diego’s Lindbergh Field, when you’re processed into Terminal 2 from security, you can’t see a single gate, because you have to pass through a veritable shopping mall first.

In the ultimate insult to long walks to planes, some airports have left the moving walkways out of their concourse remodels.  Those walkways discourage you from passing directly in front of the food and retail the airport so desperately needs you to patronize.  And intentional or not, the airlines encourage these purchases by offering less food onboard.  You, weary traveler, are a captive audience to more than one performer.

I prefer this kind of walk

Let’s not forget the rental cars.  Avis’s slogan is “We try harder”.  Maybe it should be, “We try harder… to take more of your money“.  I just reviewed my receipt from a recent San Diego rental for a full-size standard Kia sedan.  Right there below the actual daily rate: “11.11% Concession Recovery Fee”; essentially the cost of doing business at the airport.  Add in Vehicle License Recoup fee, Customer Facility Charge (another airport fee), California Tourism Fee, and a final flourish of “tax”, and the rate increased by 32%.  All so I can walk further to get to my rental car?

An early chapter of my career was in airport planning.  We’re the people who figure out how to get the planes from the runways to the taxiways to the gates without hitting each other.  We also design the terminal buildings to include enough gates, concessions and restrooms (yeah, yeah, bring on the heat with that last item).  Concourse design used to be “spoke and hub”, meaning you walked down the spoke to a circular boarding hub of several gates.  It made the airplane taxiing a little trickier outside, but it significantly reduced a passenger’s walk to the gate.  Today, airports no longer favor the design (er, traveler) because it reduces the square footage for concessions.

For those of you who live and die by your 10,000 steps, take heart; airports are helping you accomplish your daily goal.  Phoenix Sky Harbor even disguised the long walk through the concourses by calling it a “Fitness Trail”.  Be sure to allow enough time to get in a (seriously overpriced) shopping trip at all those concessions.  But don’t forget, the airlines only allow one reasonably sized carry-on these days.  Any others will cost you a checked bag fee… because the airport isn’t making enough money already.

Some content sourced from the CNN Business article, “Why you have to walk so far to your gate at the airport”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.