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.
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