Nothing says glamorous like eating a Ziploc bag full of cold steak and potatoes while sitting on the floor of the Denver Greyhound bus station.
“This is the life?” I wonder, listening to yet another person stuck in the men’s room trying to get out. The handle only works one way, so for most people it’s a 50/50 chance they’ll be able to get out. If they choose wrong they’ll continue to try the same thing over and over again, resorting to pounding on the door, instead of turning the knob in the other direction.
The bus was Going to be at least two hours late, meaning I wouldn’t be able to start hiking until sunset. If I was lucky. The plan was to hike out of Rawlins, Wyoming on the Continental Divide Trail, like many CDT hikers flip flopping around the Colorado snow.
This has not been the year of hiking that I’d hoped for. Not only had my Arizona Trail hike been cancelled, but Colorado had way more snow than usual. I ended up in Colorado far earlier than I’d expected, hoping to find a quiet place for a month or two to work on finishing a few writing projects.
But I can’t seem to pull that together. And sitting in Colorado I’m burning through money and getting fat. May as well be on a trail, any trail. And maybe because I’d already screwed up the Arizona Trail thru hike I was hesitant to let the Colorado Trail slip through my fingers as well.
Hopefully a couple weeks on the CDT will allow the snow to melt by the time I swing back down this way.
Hopefully there’ll be a place to camp not too far outside of Rawlins. Because I don’t have any other options right now.
Three and a half hours after I was supposed to have left Denver they start loading the bus. Roughly the time I had hoped to be walking out of Rawlins the bus is stopped at a streetlight in Denver. From the window I watch a fit young couple smiling and carrying bags of new gear from REI. They lean in to kiss each other while on my side of the window someone opens the bathroom door at the rear of the bus and I’m enveloped in the stench of feces.