Clouds from my plane window somewhere over Nicaragua (courtesy Blake Snow)
My respect for clouds skyrocketed last year on two separate occasions.
The first was while flying home from France after hiking Mont Blanc with my long-time friend Wesley Lovvorn. Despite being about the same elevation as my beloved Wasatch Mountains, The Alps appear 2000-4000 feet taller due to greater topographical prominence. That is their valley floor is about 2000-4000 lower than the 4400 feet I live at in Provo. Consequently, the Alps looked like giants the first time I saw them. But not as giant as the cumulus clouds I flew through on the way home. Shortly after crossing into eastern Utah on the 10 hour flight from Paris to Salt Lake, my Delta plane felt like an insect flying into an endless mountain range of white, billowy water vapor. I’ve never seen anything so big. It was a beautiful and comforting sight to come home to.
Thanks to Frontier’s new route “with service to Provo,” Lindsey and I haven’t had to use Salt Lake Airport—nor make the 80 minute round trip drive to it—at all this summer. Since June, the savvy airliner has been flying into my backyard. A quick 50-minute connection to Denver, and we’re off.
While I normally prefer flying direct, the connection actually takes less time than driving to and enduring Salt Lake security lines. I can show up to Provo Regional Airport 30 minutes before departure and still make it to my gate with more than 20 minutes to spare. Security takes less than five minutes, if that. Admittedly, with two flights I’m still exposed to more cancelation, but so far, so good. As a bonus, the flight is significantly cheaper.
What’s more, the route is operating at 90% capacity, enough to justify a westbound flight to either Vegas or LA, officials say. Party on, Provo.