A Bus Ride, a Little Grogu and a Whole Lot of WTF

I’ve always believed that getting there is half the fun.

After taking a bus from Detroit to Boston to visit Maya, I may need to reconsider that philosophy.

What was supposed to be a fairly straightforward trip turned into nearly 24 hours of waiting, riding, changing buses, foggy mountain roads and a few moments when I seriously wondered what the hell, I’d gotten myself into.

And, of course, Grogu was along for the adventure.

Because apparently, it’s not enough for me to travel alone. I need a little green guy watching me make questionable decisions.

Detroit to Toledo: So Far, So Good

The adventure began in Detroit on Sunday, October 4.

I was looking forward to seeing Maya and spending time together in Boston. We had plans, places to visit and her 50th birthday to celebrate.

But first, I had to get there.

My itinerary included a stop in Toledo, Ohio, where I’d have a three-and-a-half-hour layover.

Three and a half hours!

Now, for those unfamiliar with the geography, Toledo isn’t exactly on the other side of the country from Detroit.

Hell, I was still close enough to home that I could almost hear my coffee maker calling me back.

But there I was, sitting around waiting for another bus to take me farther east.

I decided to get some fresh air and give Grogu a little freedom from his traveling accommodations.

We found ourselves sitting near some railroad tracks.

At one point, a guy riding a three-wheeled bicycle came along and started asking questions.

“Have you ever been on a train?”

“Yeah.”

Then he wanted to know if I was waiting for one.

“No, I’m waiting for a bus.”

Think about that for a moment.

I’m sitting next to railroad tracks, watching trains, and waiting for a bus.

He must think I’m loco.

Get it? Loco-motion.

That brought Kylie Minogue’s version of “The Loco-Motion” to mind.

A little musical coincidence while waiting beside actual railroad tracks.

You can’t make this shit up.

The bus pickup is on the other side of the building but there’s nowhere to sit. Out back where the Amtrak train loading dock is, there are picnic tables to sit at. So, Grogu and I had situated ourselves there for the wait.

When we finally left Toledo, I felt like I’d just escaped Alcatraz.

And the really ridiculous part?

The adventure was only beginning.

A Second Trip Down the Aisle

One of the advantages of having a second-row seat on the passenger side of a bus is that you get a pretty good view of what’s happening ahead. No one’s ever allowed in the first row.

One of the disadvantages is that the bathroom is all the way in the back. And when you’re traveling as long as I was and on cancer medication, sooner or later, nature calls.

So I made another trip down the aisle.

Not for matrimony, mind you.

The first trip down the aisle was years ago. This one involved navigating a moving bus and heading toward the bowels of what felt like a horror flick.

Passengers sprawled across the seats. The stench of marijuana lingering on some of their clothes and the unwanted reek of alcohol.

Not exactly the romantic journey I’d envisioned.

But I suppose that’s one of the things about traveling. Sometimes the memories you bring home aren’t necessarily the ones you planned to make.

Pennsylvania After Dark

By the time we were traveling through Pennsylvania, the scenery had taken on an entirely different personality.

The mountains were dark. Fog settled over the road, and at one point, we were moving at what seemed like a painfully slow 20 miles an hour. It was the kind of darkness where you couldn’t see much beyond the headlights.

Around 12:34 in the morning, we stopped at a Love’s travel stop near Brookville, Pennsylvania.

I remember thinking how much the surroundings reminded me of another experience years earlier, when I was driving through Kansas during my college days.

It was the middle of the night, raining lightly, with mist hanging over the road. The kind of setting that makes you think about Children of the Corn.

That’s exactly what parts of Pennsylvania reminded me of.

I wasn’t particularly interested in meeting any of Stephen King’s characters along the way.

I’ve already got enough strange shit happening in my life.

State College: Are We There Yet?

Our next adventure involved State College, Pennsylvania.

The original arrival time was around 1:50 in the morning, but the schedule had slipped to approximately 2:24.

At one point, I remember the driver letting out a long, relieved breath.

I could relate.

Between the mountains, the fog and the slow progress, I was beginning to wonder whether the sun would come up before we got out of Pennsylvania.

All I wanted was to get my ass back down to sea level so I could see the sea. Preferably somewhere near Boston with Maya and an end of the horror movie playing out beyond the windshield.

Newark: Welcome to FUBAR

Eventually, morning arrived. And so did Newark, New Jersey.

Now, you might think that after surviving a long overnight bus ride, the most difficult part of the journey would be behind me.

Wrong.

Newark apparently had other plans.

First, there was the traffic.

At one point, the driver let out a loud “FUCK!” that I’m pretty sure most of the passengers heard.

I couldn’t blame him.

But things weren’t about to get much better.

When we arrived, there wasn’t some nice, comfortable indoor bus terminal where everyone could relax and figure out what was happening.

Everything was happening along the curb.

People were trying to find their buses, figure out where to stand and determine what the hell was going on.

It was FUBAR. For those unfamiliar with the expression, look it up. It’s pretty much the perfect description of that morning.

And then came the ticket problem.

Apparently, Yesterday Is Today

When it was time to board the next bus, the driver looked at my ticket and informed me that it had yesterday’s date on it.

“Scan it,” I said politely.

He never did. Instead, he called a supervisor, who immediately sided with the driver.

That’s when I started getting pissed.

I told the supervisor to check the fucking passenger manifest Greyhound had provided. I’d purchased the entire trip through Greyhound, and FlixBus was operating this portion of the journey.

My ticket didn’t suddenly become invalid just because we’d crossed into another calendar day.

Eventually, I was able to continue the trip without purchasing another ticket. But not before discovering another little surprise.

The Case of the Missing Bus Seats

My assigned seat was 20B. There was just one problem. The damn bus only had 15 rows and no seat labeled 20B. Apparently, somebody had decided that numbering seats in a logical order was optional.

And just to make things more interesting, there was no row 13. I couldn’t figure out whether I was boarding a bus or attempting to solve a math problem.

The driver finally told us to sit wherever. Which was fine by me. At that point, I didn’t give a damn what number was attached to the seat. Just get the wheels rolling.

But the fun wasn’t over.

Flexing Window

The window beside me visibly flexed with changes in air pressure.

I’m not talking about a little vibration.

The damn window was actually bowing inward and outward as we traveled.

And naturally, my imagination went to work.

Here I was, after surviving dark Pennsylvania mountains, Newark traffic a ticket dispute, a seating snafu, wondering whether the window might suddenly give way and suck me out of the bus.

Wouldn’t that be a hell of a way to end the trip and me? From the bowels of one horror flick to another created by mankind.

Boston, finally!

After all the waiting, delays, confusion and assorted craziness, I finally made it to Boston.

There was something especially satisfying about knowing the bus portion of my adventure was over. Even if It wasn’t exactly the most relaxing way to begin a vacation.There was someone waiting for me who made all those hours worthwhile.

Maya.

And after that journey, even something as simple as sitting down together and eating pizza felt like a reward.

I was tired, hungry and probably a little worn out from everything that had happened.

But I was there.

And that was what mattered.

So, if I could go back in time and give myself some advice, it would be fly like the wind even at the expense of cost.

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