Little update: remember that "10 hour journey," which would be closer to 16 accounting for other flights and transitions to other flights? Turned out to be - and I counted - 24 hours.
Just about everything that could go wrong barring actual disaster - flight delays, unexpected turbulence, irritable jackasses behind me in the queue for the scanner, beaurocratic rigmarole leading to nearly missing the Abilene flight because there were only 8 offices out of 56 attended at Dallas, having our toothpaste and a small bottle of water confiscated (seriously, a sealed tube of toothpaste!?!) the clerk at the car rental place refusing to accept Scotland was part of the United Kingdom, not getting our luggage for the final leg of the trip, my new shoes were somehow starting to fall apart - Mitra wept.
The flights themselves were fine barring a bawling baby (and it's hard to blame a poor infant trapped on a plame) and a small child practising his future drumming career in the seat behind me (again, he was a wean, so just bless 'im), and the stewards were fantastically helpful folk, but overall, this is by far the most stressful journey I've ever undertaken.
Add in the heat - remember that scene from Total Recall when the atmospheric change caused Arnie's eyes to bulge out and his face to distend horrifically? It's kinda like that: I'm a boreal creature, and just incapable of really adapting to the heat - and I barely know how I'm going to make it to Baird, let alone Cross Plains.
Well, wish me luck! I'm sure gonna need it.