Carnett: Ability to log so many transcontinental miles is a tribute to engineering

I’ve reviewed the data, and the numbers are interesting.

But they pale in comparison to numbers racked up by politicians or baseball players — and I’m not talking batting averages.

Here’s the deal: During my lifetime, I’ve logged at least 130 coast-to-coast, Pacific-to-Atlantic or vice-versa, flights aboard jet airliners.

By comparison, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark are pikers. They became American heroes by making two quasi-transcontinental treks that took two years to complete (1806-1808). They traveled round-trip from where the Gateway Arch in St. Louis now towers to the where Nike has since planted its Swoosh near Beaverton, Ore.

Lewis and Clark averaged 15 miles a day. On my 130 excursions, I’ve averaged nearly 15 miles every 90 seconds.

Of course, I’ve never had to portage a canoe over a mountain, ford a winter stream, contend with a case of the whistle belly trots, or come face to face with a giant slurping moose. I “accomplished” my journeys with my fanny tucked nicely into a reclining seat.

Each time I safely reached my destination — east or west — I offered up a little prayer of thanks. George Washington and Abraham Lincoln never did what I just did. Neither did Stonewall Jackson, who may have maneuvered his “foot infantry” all over the Shenandoah Valley but, unlike Magic Johnson, never once went coast to coast.

I’ve traveled 3,000 miles in less than a day numerous times over purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain and from sea to shining sea.

My extended family in southeastern Kansas in 1948 would have marveled at that. It took them three days of hard driving to reach our house on the shores of the blue Pacific.

My first coast-to-coast experience occurred in May of 1964. As a 19-year-old GI, I flew from LAX to New York’s JFK airport (it’d been so named five months earlier to honor America’s 35th president). In those days, a soldier in uniform flew for half-fare.

My 65 Pacific-to-Atlantic flights have terminated in such cities as New York, Atlanta, Montreal, Baltimore, Newark, Washington, D.C., Orlando, Richmond and Raleigh.

The destination most frequently reached has been Raleigh, N.C. That’s where our daughter and four grandchildren live.

I’ve also flown from West Coast locations through East Coast connections on my way to Europe and the Middle East. I’ve flown from Europe to the East Coast, and from Asian countries and Pacific islands to the West Coast.

But my burgeoning travel numbers are not really about me. They’re about living in this modern era. What we’re able to do today would have blown away my grandfather — a dedicated traveler who died in 1945. Grandpa, who never in his life stepped aboard an airliner, would have loved it.

Flying west to east — and taking into consideration the loss of three hours of my life — is much more difficult for me than flying west. It takes me a couple of days to get over jet lag. Any way you cut it, going to the East Coast takes a full day. Leave Southern California early in the morning, like 7 to 9 a.m., and you arrive in late afternoon or early evening. If you depart early afternoon, your ETA is something close to midnight.

Take the red-eye at 11 p.m., and you arrive at your destination at 8 a.m.

I love taking morning flights from the East Coast to LAX or Orange County. You leave at 8 a.m. and — because of a gracious three-hour gift from Mother Nature — arrive before noon.

We flew into Raleigh the other day aboard a Southwest flight. As we pulled into the gate, the flight attendant yelled over the P.A. system, “Now, get off!” It was an example of Southwest’s famous deadpan humor.

A Southwest attendant once said as we were rolling on takeoff, “Keep your arms and legs inside the cabin at all times!” Another welcomed us to Maui as we landed in snowy Denver.

When you’ve flown as much as I have, a flight attendant with a sense of humor is a treasure beyond compare.

JIM CARNETT, who lives in Costa Mesa, worked for Orange Coast College for 37 years.