So, the bus ride from Minneapolis to Bozeman was supposed to be 20 hours, and turned into 22.5. Which to the average reader may not really seem like that big of a deal. But, it’s amazing how much of a difference those 2.5 hours of sleep can make in the middle of the night. We arrived in Billings, MT completely on schedule at 12:30AM. I was exhausted, and sitting up on a bench in the station, bent in half and fell asleep with my head on my own lap. We were only supposed to be there for a 1-hour layover, but just as I was drifting off, I heard some people talking about a delay in the route due to a late bus that was headed west and meeting up with us.
I thought they must be talking about someone else, so I just let it float through my awareness, and fell asleep anyway. I woke up just over an hour later, and had the momentary panicked thought that I’d missed my bus. But, no such luck. That 2-hour delay was meant for me, and the woman stretched out asleep on the floor under my bench seemed to be on to something…
Yes, my second middle of the night 3-hour layover in a greyhound station (recall the first just a week or so ago in Atlanta with the blaring CNN). Just when I thought I had this greyhound thing down pat! I guess there’s always more to learn.
I came to with a splitting headache, presumably caused by the position I was folded into and sleeping in for the last hour, so I tried adjusting my body and contorting around the metal arm rests to get more comfortable. But, let’s just face it, there is really no comfortable way to sleep on a metal bench in a greyhound station. Eventually, I gave in and joined the woman on the floor. But, just as I got situated, my phone rang… What the hell? It was my wife calling at… um, 5:30AM EST. I guess that’s as good a time as any.
Turns out she’d had a few drinks at her Halloween parté… and the combination of liquor and the wee hours of the morning are a perfect recipe for romance. ☺ Yes, my wife drunk dialed me. But, hey… I was actually awake, and she kept me company until I could get on the westbound bus to Bozeman.
I arrived at the (closed) greyhound terminal in Bozeman at about 6AM, and called the cab number that the hostel managers had emailed me. The town was pitch black, and so was the hostel when I arrived. The cabbie offered to have me drive around with him if I couldn’t get in! Luckily, the front door was open. I let myself in, and found the directions for late night check-in on the wall. Basically, stick a $20 bill in one of the provided envelopes, put it under the office door, and find a bed upstairs.
Ok… I can handle this.
I dragged my (44 lb) bag up the narrow staircase – and past the two private rooms. Oh, man, wish I could spring for that… but, instead found the open door to a bunk bed room, and a strange man half awake on one of the bottom bunks. Great. Home sweet home.
I unintentionally woke up my new roommate, who kept swearing, apologized for waking me up, and then thanked me for turning on a light because his eyesight was bad (I’d turned on my cell phone to text Andy and let her know I’d arrived). I felt the need to introduce myself… and promptly forgot his name. He then asked me to set an alarm – and I obliged. Although when I told him that the time he asked me to set it was only 1 hour away, he decided to just get up. He seemed like he really wanted to chat, so I let him know I was going to sleep…
Surreal.
That’s my word for that interaction… the whole time I’m thinking, is this really happening? Am I really here? Am I going to sleep in this room with a strange, swearing man? Why is he asking me to set an alarm in the middle of the night? Why is he still talking?
Regardless, there’s a kind of exhaustion that seems to attack your body and smoosh your eyes closed, and I succumbed to it without much fuss.
About 4 hours later, I woke up and puttered around, feeling half broken and starving but too discombobulated to get myself out the door and find food. Eventually, I made my way into the little downtown, and ate what turned out to be the spiciest Mexican food I’ve ever eaten in my life. I totally loved the staff- who spoke to me in gringo Spanish. And, the food really did a cleaning act on my sinuses, so I was pleased. Plus, I got respect from the Mexican woman for actually eating it all! She said she didn’t think I would be able to… ☺
The show went alright. I’m not traveling with any equipment, due to the nature of the shows, and the nature of my travel… And, it turned out that the Leaf and Bean does not have guitar cables, and they even had to search around to dig out a mic! Oops… My throat was still kinda sore from my cold, so I decided to use the mic anyway, and just play my guitar acoustically.
2 hours, and $25 later, my voice was pretty much shot…
I got back to the hostel, and set my cell phone back for daylight savings time before going to sleep. I intended to wake up and walk the mile or so to the bus station to catch the 4:05AM to Seattle. However, at 3:48, roommate man (whose name turns out to be Jimmy) wakes me up, “Hey Man, aren’t you catching a 4:00 bus?” Ugh! It turns out that my cell phone knew that it was daylight savings time and set itself back another hour – so no alarm for me!!
I scrambled down from the top bunk while Jimmy played and sang along to a Wilco tune for me (um??) and then offered to help get my stuff downstairs. I called the cab driver, and he rushed over – and called the other cab driver in town who was already at the station to tell them to hold the bus for me!
Jimmy jumped in the cab with me – I guess he figured he was already awake, so he’d just come along for the ride… And, while in the cab, asked the cab driver if he had a CD player, and could he play a CD? The cabbie was a little taken aback… “I guess so,” he says. And, what does Jimmy hand him, but my CD, of course. “Put on track 3,” he says… And, here we are zooming through the sleeping streets of Bozeman, MT at 4AM, listening to The Grey and trying to catch a bus.
Again, with the surreal.
Jimmy, if you’re reading this, I hope you take this in stride! You are quite a character, and I’m extremely grateful you were there to wake me up and weren’t a scary man sharing a room with this exhausted gypsy girl. Oh, and thank you for the cracker-stuffed mushrooms. That was all I ate that night!!
Since I’d overslept almost an hour, I wasn’t that tired once I got on the bus. And, how lucky for me. The stretch of highway from Bozeman to Butte and was the most painfully beautiful things I’ve ever seen in my life. Thick with fog – it seemed to me like something straight out of The Lord of the Rings. Totally mystical. I actually cried. Sometimes beauty just hurts like that.
I watched the sun come up slowly over Western Montana, then drove through the forests and mountains of Idaho and into the other-planet looking world of Eastern Washington state. I took like a million pictures before I fell asleep sometime after Spokane. So, I had to make you a slideshow…
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Sorry, that deleted comment was me, I realized I had a screen name set up instead of just my name. Anyway I love reading your blogs and just stopped in to tell you that.
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