Additionally, my bike did not require a seat belt extender or have its fat, sweaty umbrella stand-like arms all over some poor, unsuspecting soul for the entire flight. No, I'm fairly sure it just sat there quietly, minding its own business, wondering why it was on its way to Dallas when its beloved owner was going to Denver and why the baggage handler was insistent on trying to bend its derailleur hanger by repeatedly smashing it about.
The aircraft cabin is also the approximate dimensions of a phone booth and a balmy 110 degrees.
I would also like to point out that I am not the first to suffer this grave injustice. I happen to have first hand knowledge of a road pro who was forced to suffer this exact same indignity.
I have come to the conclusion that the world simply is not a fair place.
FBD
