Wheels up with Walz Force One
By Rochelle Olson
Back home in St. Paul this Friday morning after two days in Coach Walz’s (aka Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz) traveling press pool and I’ve set a new goal for myself: I need to get rich enough to fly charter all the damn time because that is a lift unlike any other. Sure, maybe you’ve flown at the pointy end of the plane or even in those suites and lie-flat seats, but this is entirely different.
On Walz Force One, the Boeing 737-800 that the governor now uses to campaign, there are a) no middle seats b) no coach seats c) no rules other than don’t even think about wandering up to chat with the governor because there are more than two dozen U.S. Secret Service agents between you and he with multiple means to keep you in your place.
Here’s how it works: You go to the charter terminal and park your car in their lot and it’s about a 30-second walk to get inside. No trams. No traffic. You board the plane. There is a Fiji water waiting for you at your seat. You sit down and buckle up — or not — nobody is policing you. The door closes and that jet just rolls onto the runway and never stops. There is no, “We’re 17th in line for takeoff.” It’s just rock and roll. Wheels up. Repeat. No TSA. Yes, you toss your luggage on the ground and it’s sniffed by dogs, but there’s no waiting in a TSA line. You get on and off via a stairwell on the tarmac.
It’s all very pleasant and provides an all-too-brief respite from most of the 36-hour trip in which the traveling advance team yells at you to “run” or “hold” or “get back” or “get over there” or “doors are closing get in the van.” I’ve come to understand that “advance person” is a specific personality type and it’s similar to the personality type of prosecutors. It is impossible after the first stop or two to not feel like cattle. And the payoff? You will get 5 minutes of off-the-record face time with the candidate in which he is guarded. I can’t tell you what he said when he came to the back of the plane to greet me, photographer Glen Stubbe, New York Times, Washington Post and an NBC news producer and her photographer. It was off the record, but suffice to say there is nothing I’m dying to say from that conversation and if it were moderately informative, I’d be dying to tell you what was said.
I could write 3,000 words about this trip, but some of you are already rolling your eyes at the solipsism here this morning so I’ll move on for now. Stay tuned, though, more to come. Oh, the long motorcades of vice presidential candidates do not endure traffic woes nor do they stop for red lights — ever.
Here’s the story I wrote Thursday. Scroll down to see the photo Stubbe took of Walz at the last stop — arms raised onstage at the waterfront amphitheater. The first thing Stubbe said to me after the rally was how fantastic the light was. It was late afternoon and approaching the golden hour. Check out all his photos. Trailing a political candidate is a contact sport for a photographer.
Yes, it was interesting to see Walz in this life he’s been living for a month now. The means of travel notwithstanding, he’s much the same guy you see in Minnesota. (For better or worse. I am well aware that he has no shortage of detractors who dislike him for myriad reasons.) He’s in his element when he’s giving pep talks to volunteers and supporters. There’s no move he makes now that isn’t measured or overseen by a passel of federal agents and vigilant snipers on rooftops.
