Last Wednesday’s excitement started a story that even now is not fully concluded. It continues the roller-coaster ride.

My business in Boston was done Friday at noon, about 20 hours after I arrived there. The weather was lovely, so I should have been back in Toronto in time for dinner. Somehow, nothing says “home” like sipping the undelightful room-temperature fake beer whose carton Juimiin sometimes uses as a footrest. That is what your correspondent was finally doing at the time of this writing.

But in the case of Friday, nothing said home, period, since the aircraft mechanical problem last Wednesday had returned: the right engine would not start. Because of a misunderstanding by the aircraft service company where it parked, GXRP was left outside in the deep-freeze since its arrival, instead of being hangared. It was not possible to warm it up again enough to give it a second try, like during Thursday morning’s successful outbound flight. (I figured out later that Thursday’s success was just a fluke, and should have accepted that there is a real problem being masked by excess pre-heating.)

They were kind enough to call back to work their own aircraft mechanic, with whom I worked for a few hours looking for possible problems. We found and fixed a few, but still she didn’t go. I was stuck in Boston for an unexpected second night. Those of you watching the weather will now realize the problem. By Saturday morning, flying to Toronto would become impossible for the next day and maybe two, even if the airplane was able to start. If it wouldn’t start, I and it would be stuck in Boston for days because of the impending storm.

Come overnight in the little emergency hotel room (kindly arranged by the nexjet people again), a plan formed. If the plane started, I would aim to at least cross the Canadian border. I gave up on flying to Toronto or nearby, and aimed instead at Ottawa, which was to receive the bad weather only late in the day. Imagine my disappointment that, after arriving back in the morning to find a warm airplane, it didn’t fire up right away. Now imagine my relief that a couple of minutes’ nursing somehow made it go after all. Whew. Even the nexjet crew was relieved to see me leave.

The flight to Ottawa was shorter and more scenic than the Boston-bound one two days earlier. As before, once the airplane started, it behaved perfectly. I flew over the pretty Adirondack mountain range, the frozen-over St. Lawrence river, and only a little bit of farmland. A lovely landing was followed by a productive introduction to a local aircraft mechanic, in whose care next week GXRP will likely recover its past starting prowess.

The trip came to a close as I enjoyed a four-hour train ride to Toronto, talking altogether too much to some interesting characters. Seeing the thick frothy snow-filled air on the Lake Ontario shore made it clear that trying to land in Toronto would have been a dangerous waste of time. Still, I am home and the airplane isn’t. The trip really ends only after we are both home.