Wait...It weighs how much?

I have had some plenty of idiotic moments in my life; but I may not have had one quite as idiotic as my most recent airport blunder.  The redeemable thing about idiotic moments, is that they often lead to very good stories.....later.  So here is the story.  Last week I had a trip planned to Glacier National Park in Montana to do some camping and hiking. I packed a large rolling suitcase to check with all of the camping supplies.  NO Problem...I've done this before.  This large rolling suitcase, affectionately known as Big Green, was carrying a myriad of camping supplies including, but not limited to: the tent, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, camping stove and pots, firestarter, trail mix, hammock and straps and a slew of canned goods and other food I had purchased from the store.
I packed Big Green to the hilt.  My carry on bags were a small daypack, barely big enough for anything and my camping pack.  Now my camping pack is only considered carry-on size if it is NOT packed to the hilt, so I carefully made sure it was a reasonable size.
I loaded all of these bags up, marched them to the bus stop at the end of my street, loaded them on the bus and then from the bus to the marta train and then traipsed them to the ticket counter in plenty of time to check Big Green for the flight.  As I was in line, I began watching other passengers put their much smaller suitcases on the scale and I became more and more nervous as their bags weighed 35, 40, 45lbs.  I quickly realized I was in trouble, but tried to remain calm. It was finally my turn and with all of my might I picked up Big Green and slammed it down on the scale and to my dismay it weighed in at not 50....not 55......but 69lbs!!!!  Not only was it to heavy...it wasn't even close....I know, I know...I'm an idiot.  My dog weighs 50lbs, so I should have known. The guy then informed me that it would be over $100 to check.  I pulled the bag to the side and frantically began rearranging and taking things out, but how do you relocate 19lbs into a small daypack and a camping bag that is as full as it should be already.  Second weigh-in brought the bag to around 58lbs.  This is when the man politely informed me that I was almost inside the 1 hour limit and would soon not be able to check my bag.  I was running out of room and options for moving things, so I took out a sleeping bag and a few other things.  The man who had been helping me was leaving and informed another lady to help me as soon I was ready since I was under a time constraint and the line was long.  I placed my bag on the empty scale and it weighed 50 exactly. I waited for her to help me, but she ignored me and took one person after another, so I got in line and waited.  When she finally got to me she said, "Oh, its too late to check your bag."  SERIOUSLY!!!!  I said, "I know. The guy helping me to told you to help me when I was done, but you didn't." At this point it is 9:10am and my flight leaves at 9:44am.  She talks with someone, who approves taking my bag, I grab my camping pack (Which is now so tall I can see it over my head and it is so heavy I can barely pick it up which means it probably weighs about 50lbs....oh and did I mention it now has a sleeping back and a camping pad strapped on either side?) and I take off to security.  The line is the longest I have ever seen it.  I finally get through and run to the train to get to my gate. I realize I don't know my gate, there is no gate monitor after security telling you gate numbers, and since I did an electronic ticket on my phone I don't know the gate.  I stop and have to look it up on my phone and then finally board the train.  I get off the train, running with my bag that is knocking people out with all of the swinging paraphernalia and make it to my gate.  There is nobody left to board but me, which is unfortunate since all eyes will be on me and my "way to big for a carry on bag" and I am guessing no overhead storage that will conceivably hold my pack since I am the last passenger.  I make it to the head of the plane, walk in and all eyes are immediately on me...there is no way of hiding that I am "that passenger."  I quickly realize that there is no way that I will make it down that isle without knocking everyone out that I pass.  I take off my pack and begin to untie the swinging objects.  Throw the pack back on and now I am carrying my other bag, a large sleeping bag, a camping pad and my jacket...still trying not to knock anyone out. I hear a guy in first class say, "That is not a carry-on." I want to scream...."I KNOW BUDDY!  But IT WAS WHEN I LEFT MY HOUSE!"  I get to my seat and try and wiggle down between the isle to get my pack off.  EVERYONE IS STARING AT ME!  I move some things around in the overhead bin trying to make a miracle happen and I lift my heavy pack, praying it will fit and it is close, but nothing doing.  Mind you,  nobody is helping me lift this heavy thing because they all hate me AND I am sweating like a pig!  I squat back down with my bag and take my flip flops out of the front and begin attempt #2 and miraculously...it fits!  And right on queue the guy beside me says, "And for my next trick."  I had to laugh at this moment of comic relief.  I then grabbed my daypack, sleeping bag, camping pad, jacket and flip flops and breathing hard, moved past my seat mates to the window seat and look out the window so I don't have to look at anyone else.  Haven't even left the tarmac for my trip and I am exhausted.  I was glad to see that my first few hours where no indication of how my trip would go.  It was AMAZING!  And now I have a funny, albeit ridiculous, story.  And I wiser.  I will never again pack canned food for a trip as if other states do not have grocery stores.