Occasionally, something would go awry at Greyhound and the local agent would enlist our Cabs to bail them out. I recall two incidents, one Summer and one in the dreaded 91-92 Winter.
One Summer evening, I was called to the local depot to carry a passenger to Creston, Washington. When I got there, the passenger, a young man, told me that when he got on the bus in Spokane, with a ticket to Creston, it was the bus to Coeur d'Alene.
It seems that they thought he was going to Creston, B.C. with a connection in Coeur d'Alene. Unfortunately, wrong Creston, and late at night, there are no buses going anywhere out of Coeur d'Alene. I spent most of the night driving to Creston, West of Spokane on highway 2 in the middle of the state and back.
The second incident was much hairier. It was late in the Winter-Spring of 92. The fourth of storms dumping more than two feet of heavy wet snow had finally, and the only time I could remember, caused me to pull both cabs off the road for the night.
Myself and Bob, the Texan, were having coffee at Denny's when we got a call from our dispatcher. Apparently, a Greyhound had broken down in Worley,and had to be rescued.
It was very cold, the roads were a mess, but I had to go anyway. Twelve passengers were stranded without heat on that bus.
The station manager would ferry a small bus to Worley, where I would then bring him back to Coeur d'Alene. The Goat trail was trecherous that night, but by that time after driving all night all Winter long, I became quite good at driving in poor to horrible conditions.
We made it there and back, the folks on the bus went on to Lewiston and all was well.
Weekend Wild Card -- 5.30-31.15
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