waiting to arrive

I remember to put the "Do not disturb" sign on my motel door and I set the alarm clock on my phone for 8:30 am. I stay in bed until 9 am and then I pack my backpack. I head to breakfast through a light snow. I eat alone and then I go back to the room, grab my pack and checkout. I walk through the snow to Lava Lanes Bowling Alley/ bus station and wait outside for my 11:10 am bus, although it is only 10:15 am when I arrive there. At 10:55 am a woman there tells me my bus in cancelled! I go inside and spend an hour on the phone with Amtrak working out the details for a claim number and a way to get the value of my ticket refunded, since I will clearly be arriving in Portland some other way. Amtrak tells me that there are no other buses on any competitors sites running to Portland either. That is a blatant lie. The lady at the bowling alley sells me a $44.50 ticket on the greyhound bus at 2 pm. I walk to the Pilot Butte Restaurant and order a grilled cheese with tomato and a side of garlic parmasaen fries for a total of $6.50. Tables are scarce and when opens up for me, it is HUGE. This table could seat a party of ten, so I am nice and I invite the people waiting behind me to join me for lunch. I spend 45 minutes eating and conversing with a family of three. We discuss TB shots, my travel, and the state of Oregon, until it is clear we should vacate the table to make way for others to dine here. I go back to the bowling alley and wait an hour for the bus. I ride tbe bus with a rowdy 18-year-old girl named Tori, whose Dad saw me at the bus stop and told her to stay near the "nice lady." I am not making this up! Somehow I must have looked like either a mom-like figure or a sweet person. hahaha. Tori's energy is infectious and it takes everything I have not to act as giddy as her. We have a one hour layover at the Eugene bus station, so we wander through the rain to Starbucks and consume blended creme drinks...just what we both needed SUGAR HIGHS. When we make our way back to the bus station, there are no benches left, so we stand in front of two glass doors. Before long, everyone in the station begins queuing behind us. Apparently, we are the start of the line! That worked out well! We talk travel and share lame jokes on the ride to Portland. We arrive in Portland, Oregon at 9 pm and I walk 15 blocks in the dark through the upscale Pearl District to the hostel. I check in at 9:21 pm, get a tour of the place, make macaroni and cheese, and listen to some University of Utah students (who are on spring break) get their fortunes with tarot cards. I spend the evening engaged in discussions with a few of the students. We talk for hours on the subject of kwowing what you want in life, traveling, societal expectations, and taking the right road when given options. It is a deep and lengthy discussion and I am enjoying the verbal stimulation. I have a brief moment of realization, where I feel the undeniable urge to return to work and have REAL discussions.

I have finally learned. Even something as mundane as taking a bus from Bend to Portland can be a fulfilling adventure.