I get kicked off the greydog in Tucson. Left with the dust swirling around my ankles, contents of my backpack scattered. Just kidding!
It’s a miracle that I make it onto the bus at all. Greyhound does everything they can to dupe and confuse me but I’m smarter than that. There’s no way I’m missing this bus! After resuming travel in Tucson, the grumbly driver rambles through his announcements which includes a list of infractions that will get you thrown off the bus. I have no doubt that this driver would dump any one of us on the side of the road without a second thought. And as always, riding the greydog is a american cultural experience. A large old woman from the front pushes back to the bathroom almost every hour and then proceeds to stay in there at least 20 minutes. Every. Single. Time. Nearly once a minute the woman next to me mumbles into her phone. Is she voice texting someone?
I’m glad for my headphones as the Arizona mountains slink by. Large cumulus clouds cast vast shadows over the golden terrain and the erect saguaro fade out as we gradually climb into New Mexico. Please imagine my joy when it finally dawns on me that New Mexico is in the mountain time zone and my bus ride is in fact one hour shorter. Virtually every hiker has to do their bus time to get here.
I step off the bus and the wind slaps me in my face. The 1/4 mile to the Econo Lodge is a struggle as I lumber with my box. Oh what the hell have I gotten myself into, I think. Reunion hugs with hikers from the PCT Class of 2013 as well as new faces. These are experienced hikers and there is a definite confidence in the air. We’ve been to that other side and survived. And we’re all the more badass for it.
I share a room with Beads and we pop a few beers. Not to mention, trail angel beer from She Bear. Thank you! The long rays of the desert sun slip away as we head out for nourishment. Pizza.
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