Walking out of the gas station, sipping on a cup of coffee, I look toward the Blue Bus and parked next to it was a Toyota truck with a custom-built wooden cabin.
“HOW DO YOU LIKE THE BUS?” He yells over to me, as I walk closer.
“HOW DO YOU KNOW IT’S MINE?” I reply from a couple feet away, with a smirk on my face.
“I know, because you look a little hippie.”
I shake his hand as we both laugh. It was clearly my bus, the way I look said it all.
I introduced myself as the bus driver of this Blue Bus. His name was Hunter and he was traveling with his deaf girlfriend Cat and their two dogs. They were coming from the Northern California/Oregon border to spend some time in Texas, mostly playing music. I immediately noticed the yellow and black Road Warriors patch on the right side of his grungy vest.
“Are you riding alone? Where’s your CREW?!” Hunter asks me as Cat was looking at the engine.
“Don’t have a crew, just me in there.”
“HOW? That’s a big bus just for you,” he was shocked.
“It’s just what I do. This is what I live and travel in. I’m driving to Florida to spend time with my crew, that’s where they live.”
We continued talking about insurance, gas mileage, prices of tires, and as we spoke a large van pulled up beside us. I smiled as the driver got out and Hunter introduced me to them. They had met a few gas stations ago. This is the life of travelers, meeting people, moving on, meeting others, and then making your way back to meeting the same people in a completely different place
Right then, one of them points to the Toyota’s radiator, as yellow-greenish liquid was gushing out of the hose and all over the floor.
“Brrooo, your fluid is leaking. That doesn’t look too good.” The van driver spills out.
“Hunter, you must have a great tool kit to work on this on the road.” I ask him as he looks into the engine and wiggles on the hose. That was when I noticed his large knife hanging in its leather holster by his lower back.
“Well, we got a $30 kit from Wal-Mart, but I’m out of screw drivers.” He replied.
I went inside the bus and grabbed a multi-tool screw driver and handed it to him.
“You’ll have to wait a bit for me to get it back to you.”
“Keep it man, it’s yours. You need it.”
“You got some weed?” He asks me, smiling about his new tool.
“I’m all out, actually.” I reply.
He walks over to the driver’s door, gets out a bag of weed, and starts trimming a bud with his oil stained, coolant fingers using the scissors of a utility knife. It was part of the batch they were growing on the west coast. I couldn’t believe my luck at running into these guys. That is what the road and traveling is all about. New experiences, meeting people, seeings the sights, hearing the sounds of another place, saying Yes! and going for it.
We talked for a few more minutes, and then we said our goodbyes as they were getting ready to buy some gas and coolant, road people on the move.
As I pulled out of the gas station, I felt so wonderful. First day of my road trip to Florida, and I run into this super unique couple.
Safe Travels everyone.