[golfdigest]

ATLANTA, Ga. -- As any business traveler knows, flying isn't what it used to be. No matter where you go, something always goes wrong, even with a great attitude.

Take Monday. Headed to Atlanta for the Tour Championship, I left San Francisco on time at 7:30 a.m. and arrived in Dallas 45 minutes before my connecting flight to Atlanta. Then the fun started.

Atlanta has been pounded by rain, receiving 18 inches Sunday and more than six on Monday. At least seven people have died, roads have been flooded and many schools are closed today. So my little five-hour delay in Dallas seems trivial.

My flight actually departed from the gate, made it to the runway, then returned to the gate where we were informed that Atlanta Airport had been closed due to heavy rain. We were told the situation would be reassessed in three hours.

Shortly afterward, my flight was officially canceled and so was the next one. I booked a hotel room in Dallas and canceled my hotel room in Atlanta. Then came a glimmer of hope: the 6:30 p.m. flight was a maybe. I quickly changed terminals and was lucky to get a middle seat on the jam-packed plane.

The flight was supposed to take 90 minutes, but the pilots thankfully took an alternate route to avoid bad weather. When we finally arrived in Atlanta, it was 9:45 p.m. Most of the passengers were just happy to be on the ground, especially given the serious weather situation. But the fun continued.

For some unknown reason, planes were backed up and we couldn't get to our designated gate. We taxied to the south end of the airport and remained there for more than an hour. During the wait, water leaked from an overhead compartment, soaking my shirt.

Finally, at nearly 11 p.m., we arrived at our gate. Baggage claim was chaotic, but most people waited patiently, ever-hopeful of seeing their luggage. Some 30 minutes later, mine was among the last to arrive, but I thanked my lucky stars. I had already begun the process of filling out a missing bag report.

Running on fumes, I made my way through the terminal, where weary travelers seemed disoriented at every turn. Nerves were frayed and people were exhausted.

When I walked outside to catch a cab to my hotel, my heart sunk. It was like rush hour in Las Vegas: There must have been 200 people in line. Hello, Disneyland.

Despite another 30 minute wait, cooler heads prevailed. People were dismayed but orderly, and the line finally started moving. A good night to be a cabbie, for sure.

I arrived at my hotel around midnight, starving. Bless the woman who kept the kitchen open for me, as I wolfed down a cheeseburger before finding my room.

Inconvenience and a little water - no big deal. It was only a day out of my life. But travel can be a pain, and seems tougher every day.

--Mark Soltau

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