Growing up we had this dog who had the nasty habit of chasing after cars........

I never dreamt in a million years that I would experience that feeling and this spring I found out how invigorating it can be...

The plan was to head to Nashville for the Tracker Golden Music Awards. Simple enough, one would think, but travel never seems to be simple with me. Plane fares were astronomical but Greyhound bus tickets were on sale for a whopping $129.00 to go anywhere in the United States....... so it took three days, it would be an adventure. The plan was to listen to some tunes on my portable, write a few songs, get some good rest before I got there and meet some interesting people and see some new places.

Tunes aren't very exciting after hearing them fifty times, it is impossible to write anything on a bus, some people can sleep regardless of how many inches they are bouncing off the seat (I am not one of those people) I did meet some interesting people and spent countless hours in eight bus depots from Alberta to Tennessee. But, the most exciting part started in Calgary.....

Exhausted at four in the morning I had a three hour wait. I tried to stay awake and did fine until I sat down in a chair fifteen minutes before my bus was to leave at seven. I awoke at eight, in a charming bus depot pose; head cocked to the left, drool running down my cheek and an empty bus depot. The next bus was in twenty-three hours. Okay, a bus has to make stops, can't speed tooooo much, so the best thing to do is catch a cab and chase the bus.

I approached an older gentleman, who was the serious sort, was raised in another country and had the biggest handlebar moustache I had seen in some time. Together we checked the map and he agreed to chase the bus and get me on it for an agreed amount of money which I paid up front.

Time passed slowly in the back seat of the cab and Walter didn't have a heavy foot. I decided to tell him my story and seeing the desperation on my face, Walter pressed down on the pedal. He was quite nervous as he hadn't broken the speed limit in at least twenty years. We made fair time until we reached a construction zone where we lost fifteen minutes of Walters fine driving time. Then another fifteen while stuck behind a logging truck on a virtually unpassable highway with hills and curves every hundred yards. Finally we got to the final Alberta destination before the bus was to cross the border ...... no bus.

The fellow in the depot/gas station said, "Yep, the bus was here, but its gone. Should still be at the border. We jumped back in the car and sped off. While we drove Walter cussed at his cell phone because it was out of range and he couldn't call someone to stop the bus. He glanced continuously toward the meter, but not at the fare, he was watching the clock. We had three minutes to make it..... "Come on Walter, we can do it!" I said more than once. Poor Walter was sweating at this point. The meter was now at $400.00.

Finally, we arrived at the customs line up at the border. We spotted the bus on the other side and both jumped out of the cab. My with my carryon and handbag and Walter clutching his bill fold with his green card in it, we left the cab parked in the line-up and began to run towards the bus. Customs was not happy.

After insisting many times we get back in the car and Walter saying over and over, "Shirley has to get on that bus!" we obediently got back into the cab. At the window, they simply told us to park the car and come inside.

The questions came one after another. "Why are you walking through customs? Why did you take a cab this far? Why is your luggage on the bus and you are not? How much money are you going to make singing in the US? (obviously not any musicians in the group if they were worried about the IRS) After going through my luggage, all items in my handbag and carryon, they wrote down the names of my singles so they could request them on the radio and if I ever became famous they could tell this story.....

The best part of this story is that Walter waited with me inside customs, though he was free to go.......... he was so happy that they held the bus for me (the passengers on the bus weren't too impressed) and shook my hand and thanked me for a most bizarre morning before wishing me the best of luck. As he turned to leave I called after him. "Walter, what about the meter?" He waved his hand in a never mind that fashion, "I'll worry about that!" he said. "The important thing is that we made it and you are going to get to Nashville on time."

It is wonderful to meet people like Walter in our travels and I will not forget him. I took one of his business cards ..............

Written By: Shirley Frederickson
sfrederickson@home.com