Senior Bus Trip

No. I'm not over the age of 65. But my parents went on senior bus trips and had formed friendships with several couples who also regularly took these trips. And, this being Mom's first bus trip as a widow, she invited me to come along. I was delighted as they would be exploring Minnesota's North Shore.

Lake Superior, looking west from Split Rock Lighthouse

Lake Superior, looking west from Split Rock Lighthouse

We met the bus at 7:00 am and Mom's friends had saved seats for us to sit near them. Our luggage went beneath the bus and just a bag or purse went on the bus with us. Within two hour of leaving, we were in the Twin Cities, northward bound on the freeway. The travel agent and her helper were serving a continental breakfast when all of a sudden...

You knew I had a story, right?

And speaking of stories, I finally finished my novel! Today!

Revision 4 is completed and formatted to send off to a couple of beta readers. I'd anticipated being done in the spring. Then I thought I would finish by the end of August. But my 1939 story braid derailed when I found a picture of a WWII Sunderland Flying Boat over what I thought was a sleepy quiet village. So I researched and added in pertinent events. 

With the story done, for now, I'll clean up my files so I can be ready to work on Revision 5 in December. 

And now, for the rest of the bus story:

The travel agent and her helper were serving a continental breakfast. The agent was in the aisle near us with a glass of juice in hand. All of a sudden the bus driver stepped on his brakes. She flew forward (yes, we were horror-struck, bus aisles are not meant for falling bodies) and her cup flew up.

I don't know where the cup landed but the majority of the juice landed on the front of my t-shirt. But that wasn't the immediate concern. After a short while with everyone holding bated breath, the agent figured out she was fine, just juice spattered. One of the men helped her up. 

Now remember we're on a bus with seniors. And the narrow aisles and bus seat arms are not helpful for getting someone up off the floor.

Someone made a comment and when the agent laughed and thanked the man, relief and humor started flowing through the bus again.

And now that we knew she was ok, I thought about me! Good thing I had a tank top underneath my t-shirt.  And Mom had an extra sweatshirt in her bag as mine had received some fallout from the splat on my t-shirt. Though I didn't need her sweatshirt. That bus was warm!

We did not get to our hotel rooms until 9 pm that night. Along the way we stopped at the train museum in Duluth and had lunch, rode a vintage train to Split Rock Lighthouse, toured the lighthouse and the old homes of the lighthouse keepers, and then drove to the city of Tower in dusk.

That night, at 9:30 pm, Mom and I sat across from one another at a restaurant. One other table had customers. And boy-howdy, did that cream of wild rice soup and those chicken wings taste mighty fine. And the waitress was superlative in her hospitality.

Being baptized with cranberry apple juice? Now that's a vacation to remember!