Bauma Report: The Journey Home

As Stavros stood on the wing of bi-plane that stretched out over the Icelandic volcano, time came to a stop. My mind raced. How did we get here?

Six hours ago, we sat grounded in the Munich airport. The airport had recently gone under military lockdown — it seems that we were the only civilians by-passing commercial airlines to charter our own flights home. Capitan Cid is no fan of authority; so he busied himself by studying the guard rotation, looking for a work-around, while we sat patiently. Finally, at 1:23 a.m. Munich time, we had our window of opportunity.

The guard on duty at the far East hanger had nodded off. That gave us seven minutes — 30 seconds to sneak by the guard, two minutes to the West hanger, four minutes to push the bi-plane onto the runway and start the engines and another 30 seconds to take off. This was going to take crackerjack timing. Capitan Cid gave the signal — “KaCaw!”

We were off; moving faster than we’d ever moved before. Faster than when we dashed from the outdoor Volvo booth to the indoor Komatsu booth. Faster than when Stavros got sick off that Gelato. Before I knew it, we were in the air and on our way to London.

Just over an hour and a half into our flight, the threatening cloud of dark volcanic ash drifted toward us. “I got a bad feeling about this,” Capitan Cid yelled from the cockpit. “If the wind keeps on this direction, that there cloud will choke out our engines for good!”

“I know what I must do,” Stavros said calmly looking at Janeen. He unbuckled his seat belt and stood up.

“What are you doing?” Janeen asked.

“My duty,” Stavros answered, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a medallion.

“Where’d you get that?” I asked.

“From a German shaman I met at the airport. He told me that he knew of our plight to escape the military lockdown and that he saw great darkness in our future. He gave me this medallion and said that only a sacrifice, pure of heart, would lead the way to salvation,” he explained. “I’ve been with you on many great adventures Keith Gribbins, but into the great unknown, I go first!”

“Wait! Stavros! As your manager, I order you not to do this!” I said.

“Stavros! Don’t, you can’t leave me!” Janeen pleaded.

“We’ll always have Bauma,” Stavros said as he stared longingly into Janeen’s eyes. He pulled her toward him for one last embrace. I knew this was goodbye.

Stavros pulled himself onto the overhead wing of the bi-plane. “Keep ‘er steady Capitan Cid!” I yelled.

“Stavros! You don’t have to do this,” Janeen screamed.

“But I already have,” Stavros whispered to himself as he crawled toward the edge of the wing and stood up.

Stavros extended his leg over the edge and stepped off the wing. In his heart, it was a leap of faith as he fell into the volcano. As he faded out of sight, there was an eerie silence. And then, a blinding light exploded from the volcano! As soon as the light had faded, the ash cloud, which stranded so many travelers over the past week and threatened Bauma attendance, was gone.

“He did it!” Capitan Cid. “I don’t believe it! That crazy boy did it!”

Barrel rolling in celebration, Capitan Cid piloted to London. 10 hours later, I was happy to be back behind my CE desk with piles of press releases and photos to comb through. It was a long and trying trip, but it gave me memories that I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

Until our next CE Trade Show Adventure, this is managing editor Keith Gribbins signing out.