autobus

Aug. 22, 2009

Matt, our couchsurfing host, pulled out packing boxes from the attic. He grabbed a couple military-issued rolls of Duct tape, his pocket knife, and we went to work in the garage. Bree and I had rode over 800 miles from New Orleans to Abilene, Texas; the appealing tales of West Texas' lack of towns, abundance of cacti and oil refineries inspired us to catch a Greyhound from Abilene to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Luckily, Matt was willing to help us tackle the task of boxing our bikes. He even packed us PBJ and fruit to-go before dropping us off at the station.

There was no direct route to Santa Fe. We rode through the night and woke up at 4 am in El Paso. We had 4 hours to explore before catching our connecting bus. Out on the street, you could have told me we were in Mexico. Square, single-story architecture, signs offering tacos and gorditas, Spanish on everyone's tongues. We ended up at the only place open: McDonald's, people watching and playing cards until it was time to return to the station. Somehow, I lost my boarding pass and had to pay for the second leg again. Bree enjoyed that a little too much.

The foothills of the Rockies greeted us to the east the whole journey up to Santa Fe. We'd been told our bikes had been sent ahead of us and would be waiting at the station. When we pulled up to a gas station and were told to debark, I started to sweat. But, the driver got off and pulled out our boxed bikes from under the bus with our panniers. We assembled everything in the parking lot and cycled off to the youth hostel.