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Year Four, Day 297: The Greyhound Story, Part 3

 Dear Friends:

I'm back and ready to finish the story!

Where we left off, I had boarded the Greyhound in Twin Falls shortly after 5:00 a.m. and collapsed in my seat, ready for some rest and relaxation.  It was a smooth, quiet 2 hour ride to Boise. Still dark, there was not much scenary to watch outside the windows, so I balled up my coat to make a little pillow which I jammed between my head and the window.  Before I knew it, we were pulling into the parking lot of a Flying J convenience store in Boise. The bus driver bellowed we all had to debus so it could be cleaned and sanitized.  We would be on our way in about 30 minutes with a new driver.

So far, so good! I hopped off the bus and went into the Flying J in search of refreshment. I ordered a breakfast burrito and orange juice and went back outside to wait. It was bitter cold, but the burrito warmed my tummy.  Back on board, our new driver, picked up the microphone to greet us. He had a pleasant, but very strong Russian accent. But a lot of charisma.  Good thing. Considering what lay ahead!

He told us we had to stop by a hotel in Boise and pick up "some folks".  Some folks indeed!  We stopped across the street from a "Super 8" Motel.  Huddled around the entrance was a bedraggled group of people, smoking, and scuffling around with their luggage.  When our bus was spotted, several of them started to cross the street.  The bus driver motioned for them to stay put as he pulled up to the curb.

There were about 15 of them. As they boarded, there was much grunting, moaning and exclaiming.  One of the passengers from the new group attempted to sit by a woman up front, who hollered, "You can't sit here! I only sit with men!"

At which point the new arrival, a woman, hollered back, "Perhaps I'll just grow a pecker!"

Excuse my language.

I closed my eyes and prayed pecker woman would not sit by me.

Of course, she did.  But I got the back story from her. So it was all good.  Apparently most of this group had been traveling together, by no choice of their own, since before Colorado.  In Utah, one of the Greyhounds turned over, sending several passengers to the hospital and closing the freeway. Apparently one of the men in the group still wore his hospital wrist band.  Greyhound put them all up for the night in a hotel nearby.  That hotel (I think it was Denver, the story teller was easily distracted), had a shoot out between a man and the police that night.  

Now I know why Utah to Colorado Greyhound trips had been cancelled!

She then proceeded to tell me her whole life story, interspersed with hooting and hollering with some of her new friends from the group, including a bar tender who seemed to have acquired the role as "Mama" of the group.

She also ate constantly, loudly, while telling the story. At least she offered me a Cheeto. I politely declined and sat biting my tongued as she crunched and munched until Baker City.  

Oh, but I left out an important part of the story! When we picked up this group in Boise, they had been there several nights and on the road many, many more. There were not enough seats on our bus, but the passengers were travel weary and the bus driver was a softy. He actually allowed several people to sit on their luggage in the aisles!

So anyway, we had a brief layover in Baker City. I chose to stay put. Mainly because it was mayhem trying to step over luggage and people in the aisle. My travel partner hopped off for a smoke.  When we were ready to roll again, a sweet faced, older woman approached me. She told me she had been sitting on her luggage in the aisle and a "very nice woman" offered her seat to her.

Thank you, God!  My new travel companion was sweet and quiet. We ended up riding all the way to Portland together.  

After Baker City,  the group seemed to be perking up. It did seem like we would all reach our destinations!  One young man was eager to meet with friends to drink in the New Year.  My previous companion had arranged a ride from Pendleton to Walla Walla.  It seemed most people were heading to Portland, and some beyond to California.

I exhaled and tried to reposition myself to relax and maybe nap a bit. I had, afterall been up until 2 a.m. the night before in Twin Falls, finishing knitting hats for my granddaughters.

No sooner had I closed my eyes, when I heard a man's voice.  It sounded like he was reading the bible. But with most concerning twists!  Whenever he read "I am the Lord, Your God", his very would rise several decibels.  I glanced sideways at my travel companion. She arched her eyebrows at me.  

The man continued to read passages from the Bible, which started out sounding authentic. But then there would be a pause, and he would insert details from his life, curse words and an assortment of odd and scary phrases.

For instance, "I am the Lord, Your God!"...{"the Commander in Chief!  I will behead your enemies and there will be a river of blood.  My homies never understood me. The four tribes China, US, Canada and Mexico will arise."

Several passengers complained. Some of his speech was alarming.  There were children on board.  At some point in our journey, he moved to the seat just opposite us.  It was hard to relax, with visions of rivers of blood and executioners filling my brain.

At one point the bus driver pulled over and gently confronted him. He said, "I too am a Christian, but I do not force others to hear my view. That would be like going to a restaurant and expecting everyone to eat the entree I chose!"

The scripture misquoter apologized. He was quiet for maybe 20 minutes before it started again.  We all just ignored him.  

His scripture manipulation continued went on constantly from Baker City to the Dalles, where he thankfully debussed!  

Aside from the scripture misquoter, the next several hours were rather peaceful.  But as we approached La Grande the snow increased. The bus driver put on chains. Then as we approached the La Grande exit, we saw police activity and a big sign that said "Highway close. Exit here!"

The whole bus groaned in unison.  We pulled out our cell phones to find out information. The driver took us through La Grande to the Greyhound Station. Which was closed and locked up.  No restrooms, no seats to stretch our weary legs. It was New Year's Eve, is what we speculated.

We sat on that bus for 8 hours at the Greyhound Station in La Grande awaiting word from dispatch.  There was no word. No one knew when the freeway would open up. The most information we had was that there was "police activity on I-84 near La Grande. Both sides of the freeway were closed to traffic."

There was rumor of finding hotels for us, but there was nothing in La Grande. We would have to go back to Baker City, Enterprise or even Boise!  

There was much pushback from the passengers.  Finally we voted and agreed we would prefer to sleep on the bus and depart when the freeway opened up. Thankfully there was a truck stop in La Grande. With bathrooms, food and showers.

Finally the bus driver agreed and we shuffled along the streets of La Grande to the Flying J Truck Stop.

We could not believe our eyes! I have never seen so many semi trucks in one location. The parking lot was filled, the side streets were filled. We found a  narrow space to park the bus and the driver took off with Mama Bartender to explain to the staff of the Flying J that, although we were not a truck, we had a bus full of passengers, including children that were stranded due to the highway closure.

Oy....look at the time! I have to get ready to teach piano.  


Stay tuned. I hope to finish this story next time!

Happy Monday!

Love,


Zita



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