Post Scythe Travel

by Ava Martin

As the daughter of an airline employee, I have traveled a lot. And I have brought a lot of weird things with me. A few examples: a full bag of corn on the cob (in the husk), a gallon Ziploc of raw cookie dough, two pet rabbits, a mini rice cooker, and a chef knife. But my luggage traveling back from the 2024 ALHFAM Annual Conference might take the cake.

During the conference’s haymaking class, Lauren Muney gave me a gorgeous antique scythe. She had prepared it for someone in the class, and I was the only one without a scythe.

I mean, a scythe?? How could I say no?

But New Jersey was only a midpoint in my travels. I came from Yosemite, carrying six months of belongings with me in the form of two *heavy* suitcases, a stuffed backpack, and a fiddle. After ALHFAM, I would stop in Colorado for a wedding before returning to Anchorage, Alaska.

So…I carried my duffel in one hand, the fiddle and roller bag in the other, and the backpack over my shoulders. The snath swung over my back, poking up behind my head and swinging out to the side, level with my shins.

My weirdly large load elicited pity from strangers – or at least stares and a few offers of help.

At the Philadelphia Airport, against the customer service agent’s advice, I kept the snath to bring through security. I assured him that it would fit perfectly against the plane’s window. He gave a half-hearted nod.

In line for airport security, I noticed a lot of stares. But only a few brave souls asked what I was carrying (“Is that a musical instrument?”).

Lauren had coached me on how to get the snath through security and avoid checked bag fees. Make it funny, she said. Say, “It’s a scythe. You know, like death?” with a conspiratorial grin. Be excited and friendly and essentially irresistible.

I tried.

But the TSA agent pulled the snath off the screening belt. “Is this yours?”

I grinned. “Yup! It’s a scythe! You know, like –“

“I know.” He wasn’t grinning. “You can’t take it through.”

My grin drooped. “Just because it’s a scythe?”

Another agent stepped in: “It’s a large stick. It could be used as a weapon.” No smile.

So that was that.

I ran back to the check-in counter, and the stick suddenly looked very small and a bit ridiculous headed down the conveyor belt with a single tag.

In Denver, the scythe accompanied me on public transport to a hostel downtown, then to Fort Collins for the wedding, and then back to the Denver airport. This time, I just checked the snath.

When I hopped in the car with my mom in Anchorage, my scythe had joined me for five rideshares, three train rides, two plane flights, and one bus ride.

A bed sounded pretty good.

Figure 1 Ready to Leave The Dorms

Figure 2 Dropped Off at the New Jersey State Museum in Trenton

Figure 3 On the Train to Philadelphia

Figure 4 Conceding Defeat at the Philadelphia Airport

Figure 5 Oversized Luggage in the Denver Airport

Figure 6 All My Luggage at the Denver Airport

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Ava Martin graduated in 2023 from the University of Alaska Anchorage with a degree in history and anthropology. Over the past few years, she has focused on historic preservation, and most recently interned with the National Council for Preservation Education.