Getting to the Festival of Faith and Writing

This is always fraught as I do not have a car. Years past I lived in Chicago and carpooled, usually in a minivan and could bring my bike. This time I live in Okemos/E. Lansing and could have possibly rode my bike to Grand Rapids had I not been out of shape and worried about the swings in weather we’ve been having. Which was never more evident at the Festival. Huge amounts of walking back and forth between venues, despite there being a shuttle, new this year, and a stormy Friday where winds exceeded 30 miles per hour. All this to say, I booked tickets on Indian Trails.

Which, as it turned out, was a GREAT option.

One never knows, and I emphasize the word never, what a driver or transit company thinks about bikes. They can decide to give you a hard time no matter what. I had called ahead to see what the regulations were. They told me it needed to be boxed (more on this later). I showed up at the E. Lansing pickup point by the Marriot and hugged my daughter good bye. Pray for me I said. Little did I know.

As soon as she drove away I realized my purse was still in the car.

Yipes, how do I get her to come back! I can’t call—phone is in the purse—my bus ticket is in the purse, all my money and ID. I don’t even have a pencil to scribble a sign saying help—all of it is in the purse.

I rush into a Coney Island hotdog place and ask to use a phone. The kind girls at the register let me. I dial, no answer, I dial again, no answer, I frantically call a third time. Hang up walk away. Immediately the phone rings. The girls answer and have an awkward conversation, like: Did you just drop off your Mom? She’s here and doesn’t have her purse. They didn’t say, She’s a crazy woman.

There was still time. My daughter drove back and I got it. The whole time she looked like some disgruntled parent whose kid is always screwing up. She said, Don’t make me come back again. I promised this was it.

I had my boxed bike, my panniers, and now my purse aka phone. I sat down, and, not more than 5 minutes later a bedraggled older woman (me?) shuffles toward me dragging a rolling suitcase and her ID on a lanyard around her neck. I just knew she was going to ask me for something.

She said: I’m here to take the bus and just realized I don’t have my phone. It was plugged in to charge and I left without it.

Of course, I just did the same thing. and said, Do you want to use my phone? I gave it to her.

Afterwards, we sat and chatted until our separate buses arrived and the Indian Trails driver did NOT give me a hard time, but allowed the boxed bike underneath in the bay and was very nice in that he didn’t pile other luggage on top of it.

Easy peasy. I had been worried that there was some “extra” charge that I had missed when reading through the website. But, no, it was all okay.

I arrived in Grand Rapids and put the bike back together and went into the station. I asked if I might leave the box until Sunday. The person behind the counter said, We’re not supposed to but we’ll make an exception. So another problem solved! I used my phone’s GPS and cycled to my host’s house, where for the next 3 days I cycled to and from the Festival.

Sunday, I arrived at the station, picked u my bike box and deassembled enough of the bike to fit into the box and again no problem loading it into the underneath of the bus. In fact, the driver mentioned that they also allowed the bike to be bagged, which would require no removing pedals, wheel, etc.

In E. Lansing I did the same thing again in reverse and, because the weather was so wonderful, rode home via the Lansing River Trail.

All in all, I recommend Indian Trails bus service and NOT leaving your purse and phone in your daughter’s car when getting dropped off.