The time is short, so he’s gotta fly

I have flown from Charlotte to Amsterdam and stayed just long enough to visit a coffee shop and see some Van Goghs before flying back across the Atlantic.

I have flown from Los Angeles to New York and wandered Fifth Avenue and Central Park for an afternoon, admiring storefront holiday decorations, before returning to Kennedy for the flight home.

I have flown from San Diego to Las Vegas and stayed 20 hours -- no hotel necessary -- before heading back to the airport yet again.

My name is Michael, and I’m addicted to a frequent-flier program.

And, as any frequent-flier addict can tell you, the end of the year is crucial. Yes, it’s time for the “mileage run.”

These mad dashes across the wintry skies at 35,000 feet are specifically designed to earn precious miles before the year-end deadline that can boost you from an ordinary coach passenger to, in the case of Delta Air Lines’ program, vaunted Medallion status, where free upgrades and other benefits await.

For aficionados, a mileage run is part practical matter, part puzzle to be solved -- finding the cheapest flight while maximizing connections (and thus miles earned) and minimizing time spent. It takes an understanding of how the fare system works and how to get the most out of that fare by pushing the rules to the limit.

The mileage run has been an airline subculture for years, and I am still a relative amateur. Today there are chat rooms and websites devoted to swapping tips on best flights. It takes a village to find a good fare.

Consider recent chatter, often urgent, at Flyertalk.com:

“Need 1,576 mile run from HPN or BDL,” wrote one flier, using federal airport codes to refer, respectively, to Westchester County Airport in New York and Bradley International Airport in Connecticut. Another asked how to stretch the miles between San Francisco and Los Angeles. Another offered a “Step-by-Step guide into buying tickets without Fuel Surcharge.”

One flier conceded that he had missed his target: “So, the goal is Gold.. just didn’t have enough time for Plat this year. Need 7,922 by 12/31 or else...:-) Extremely flexible on dates, including Christmas & New Years Eve. Thanks all.”

My needs were more modest. The strategizing began at Thanksgiving when I realized I would fall 3,807 miles short of the 25,000 miles needed for Silver Medallion status, which would entitle me to upgrades, express check-in, free checked baggage and mileage bonuses for free flights. Gold (50,000 miles) and Platinum (75,000 miles) offer better chances at upgrades and bigger mileage bonuses, but those levels were clearly beyond my reach this year.

There are mileage maniacs who will not stop until they reach Gold or Platinum, taking weird crisscrossing flights all over the world. I have my limits. This year, it’s only 3,807 miles.

--

Frequent-flier miles have been a part of my life since I was 9.

I have had Silver or Gold status on Delta’s program for about a decade now.

I came to love flying because of my parents. Starting when I was 3, my brave mother was willing to supervise me on flights. My father was the chief executive of the Kentucky Utilities Co., and whenever he could, he took me on his business trips. In elementary school, I was logging 10,000 to 20,000 miles a year.

I grew up in a small town in Kentucky, but these trips opened my eyes to the world beyond, which I suppose is why my parents took me.

Flying, back in the 1980s, seemed so much more special. I would look at the planes and the people waiting at the gates, and it all seemed so important and unique.

My father and I dressed up in coats and ties when we flew. I still do.

There is a romance to flight that I’ve never gotten over. My wife and I got engaged on an airplane.

Friends and co-workers often ask me: “How can it be worth your time and money?”

After several years of what I perceived as declining return for frequent-flier programs, I think the value is now going up as stress levels increase at airports.

The special line through security at Los Angeles International Airport is a huge bonus. And on Delta flights, a regular passenger will pay $15 for the first checked bag and $25 for the second. I typically take 12 to 15 cross-country trips a year and on average check two bags. So Medallion status could save me hundreds of dollars in baggage fees alone in 2009.

I also believe I get better service because my airline knows I am a loyal customer. There is a special phone number I can call for help with flights. Plus, the agents assigned to Medallion lines at the airport seem to be the ones who excel at customer service.

I am upgraded to first class about half the time I fly. When I settle into that oversize full-recline first-class seat with a footrest and sip my complimentary pre-takeoff coffee liqueur, there is no doubt in my mind that whatever I had to do to earn this, it was worth it.

My goal was to find a flight for under $200 that would get me the miles I needed without being away from my home in Culver City for very long.

Using Travelocity’s Low Fare Alert, I reviewed my options from LAX : Kansas City, Mo. ($154, with stops); Charlotte, N.C. ($174, with stops); Omaha ($184, more stops). There also was a red-eye to Atlanta ($178 direct).

Charlotte and Omaha seemed promising because they offered the chance to visit friends. But none of the available dates matched my schedule, and this isn’t about friends anyway.

Kansas City was the cheapest. But it was on Continental, and after checking the partner rules with Delta, I found that only half the miles flown would go toward Medallion status.

This left Atlanta. I checked the Unofficial SkyMiles Calculator online, and came up with 3,894 miles -- 87 more than I needed.

I was able to book a flight for $202 after taxes and fees -- exceeding my low-price goal, but what’s a few bucks for an upgrade?

As the night of the flight approached, I felt a slight sense of dread. Flying for essentially no purpose does make me wonder about wasted energy and my carbon footprint, which is probably huge.

I would have been perfectly content to just pay Delta $202 and stay at home. But in the logic of frequent flight, just buying the ticket isn’t enough. You have to show up and fly.

One upside is that you can turn off your BlackBerry for eight hours or so. It is like going back to a time when we were not in constant contact with the world -- even if only for a few hours.

Since you don’t really have to get to your destination, a mileage run affords other benefits.

During a previous year’s run, I volunteered to give up my seat on a flight to New York that was oversold and, in return, got $400 in future credit on Delta. I flew the next day and instead of being out roughly $200, I was $200 ahead.

I tried to get bumped off my recent flight to Atlanta. No luck.

The agent appreciated that I was willing to sacrifice for others. When I explained that I was only going to turn around, she hesitated and then said with a smile, “Ah, you’re one of those people.”

Yes, I am.

--

Fortunately, I can sleep anywhere. I boarded the 767-300, found my seat, put on noise-canceling headphones, situated a travel pillow and readied for a four-hour nap.

A broad-shouldered gentleman sporting a bright-blue T-shirt and a close-cut Mohawk plopped next to me and said, “They always put us big guys together.”

“Always,” I said.

It was the last word I spoke before arriving in Atlanta 4 1/2 hours later.

I awoke when the plane touched down with a bone-jarring bump.

I made my way from Terminal A to Terminal T in about 10 minutes. I checked in for my return flight at a self-check kiosk and picked up a hot apple cider and bagel.

At the gate I discovered I had been left off the upgrade list. I rediscovered two universal truths of flying: Way too many business travelers with higher status take early-morning weekday flights, and being polite is still important no matter what your status.

I asked the gate agent if I had made the mistake. She said no, apologized and confided that the flight was relatively empty in coach. She moved me to a row of three seats and blocked the seats around me from being occupied. A row all to myself.

I lay down with my seat belt on, and again, I was asleep before takeoff.

My flight arrived in Los Angeles around 9:30 a.m., just in time to head to work.

It all seemed like a dream: I had left at night and now, after a pleasant sleep, was heading out into the morning sun.

The only glitch occurred after I retrieved my car: The parking attendant tried to charge me the higher rate for hotel guests.

“No, airport rate,” I said.

“But you’ve only been in here 11 hours,” he said. “Last night to this morning. You sure you weren’t at a hotel?”

I produced my itinerary. He took my $12 and waved me out with a shrug.

--

michael.whitley@latimes.com