Riding the Dog: Cross-Country by Greyhound

No response.

"Stop, will you? Can I run back and get my friend? Can I get off?"

By now I'm up past the yellow line in front, explaining that Judy is an elderly passenger, and hear only mumblings from the driver that include the phrase, "got to keep on schedule." Some of the other passengers are angry, too, and I collect some names and phone numbers. Someone lends me his cell phone and I dial the number on my Ameripass, but all Greyhound suggests is that Judy keep her eye out for a bus due into Blythe later that afternoon.

It's been five long days. We've been to Tennessee, Texas, Mexico, the South Rim of the Grand Canyon and dozens of beaten-up, midnight Greyhound bus stations scattered along the way. I have made it from D.C. to L.A., where it's 89 degrees, bustling and hazy, and Judy has made it to a fast-food restaurant in a town I do not know how to spell.

Hours later, I meet a dust-coated bus from Blythe and there is Judy, sunburned and exhausted from pacing around in parking lots.

"Greyhound has made it up to you," I say, handing over a certificate entitling her to a Free Entree and a Medium Beverage at the bus terminal cafe.

Judy starts to crumple the scrap of paper. But then a ghost of a grin appears. She yanks me by the arm, pushing our baggage out of the way. "C'mon," she says. "What're we waiting for? Let's have lunch."

Epilogue

The rigors of our trip begin to evaporate just a little as Judy and I sit, slightly dazed, in the back yard of my brother's house, which is flooded with L.A. sun. I toss out my collection of baggage claim checks from along our route. Since one of my suitcases smells like a Greyhound bathroom, I hose it down and hang it out in the hot air to dry.

Tomorrow, after Mann's Chinese Theatre and a visit to Venice Beach, we are due to head back east, and this time, we believe, the trip will be a breeze. We're not going to rip open a single moist towelette. We're not going to get into arguments with drivers. And we're not going to get off at rest stops. Not even once.

Judy and I are going to fly.

Peter Mandel last wrote for Travel on deep-sea fishing in Florida.

Details: Cross-Country by Greyhound

Traveling from Washington to Los Angeles on Greyhound can cost as little as $99, if you book at least seven days in advance and ride straight through with no stopovers. If, like me, you want some flexibility as well as the chance to break up the ride with motel stays, your best bet is to buy an Ameripass ($199 for a seven-day pass; prices vary for customized lengths between four and 60 days), which allows you to get on and off as often as you like, and sketch out the route of your choice.

ROUTE PLANNING: I wanted to take a southerly route, and since Greyhound buses stop at or connect to nearly every town of reasonable size, I traced a fairly direct line on a U.S. road map through Roanoke, Va.; Knoxville, Nashville and Memphis, Tenn.; Little Rock; Dallas and El Paso; Las Cruces, N.M.; Tucson; the Grand Canyon (via Flagstaff, Ariz.); and Phoenix to Los Angeles.

Then I logged onto www.greyhound.com, clicked on "Tickets, Fares & Schedules" and, typing in departure and destination cities, called up daily schedules and trip duration times between points along that route. (You can also ask for printouts of these schedules at any station.) I picked our stop-for-the-night target cities by planning to ride about 12 to 18 hours each day, and seeing where that would put us on our map -- although to make up time during the trip, we ended up deciding to ride past some of the targets, at one point spending 34 straight hours on the bus.

WHERE TO STAY: The cheapest place to sleep en route is, of course, on the bus, but there are some drawbacks: You'll miss the landscape you're passing through in the dark, you may find it too cramped to snooze, and there are almost always stops (and sometimes bus changes) during the night. I brought along toll-free phone numbers for national motel chains, and each day during the trip, I called and booked a motel -- guaranteeing late arrival -- in the next target city along our route.

One company we had good luck with, both in terms of its national scope and helpful operators, was the Comfort/Quality/Sleep Inn/EconoLodge chain at 800-228-1222, although Best Western (800-WESTERN) and Days Inn (800-432-9755) are equally widespread. Try to book a room as close to the bus station as possible (hotel operators can look this up for you) since, unless you have very little baggage, you'll have to take a cab to your motel and back.

WHERE TO EAT: Greyhound bus drivers are good about stopping briefly at meal times (in part because they're looking forward to a break and a bite to eat, too). The bad news is that these breaks tend to be very short (half an hour or less) and are, almost always, at chain fast-food joints like Hardee's, which don't have much beyond burgers, sodas and fries. Greyhound used to operate a pretty good quality chain of Post House Cafeterias, but now these are almost all gone, though some bus stations do offer greasy spoons known as Travelers Grills.

LUGGAGE: If you're checking a suitcase underneath the bus, you'll need to put it out by the baggage compartments each time you board and grab it each time you get off. Bags cannot be "checked through" as on a plane, although many stations will require you to get baggage claim checks from the clerk for every bag that goes underneath. Be sure to have a small bag or backpack you can bring on board for snacks, guidebooks, a camera, books, etc.

WHAT ELSE TO BRING: Since you won't find many fruits or vegetables at the bus stations and restaurants noted above, it's a good idea to pack raisins, nuts, trail mix, oranges, carrot sticks, peanut butter crackers and bottles of water.

Other useful items: cell phone, portable radio/CD player with headphones, small pillow, moist towelettes.

HOW TO SURVIVE: I failed miserably at this, but try to be flexible while riding Greyhound. Inconsistency is rampant in both buses and stations, and we found it was easiest when we rolled with the punches and didn't try to argue. Some drivers demand IDs, some do not; some prohibit cell phone use, some couldn't care less; some will let passengers sit in the front-row seats, some block these off for "security." Station A will tell you not to worry about a baggage claim check, and when you get to Station B they will reprimand you for not having one. And in five long days of travel, we had our on-board bags looked into only once, before boarding for our last leg in Phoenix.

Greyhound buses sometimes arrive nearly full (from loading passengers at previous stops), so it's wise to show up as early as possible. Get to the station at least an hour before your bus leaves, find your gate and begin lining up in front of it. If you're toward the back of the line, you may not get on, and -- except in rare cases when a second bus is brought in -- you'll likely have to wait hours until the next one.

It's also a good idea to gather and hoard information. Get gate numbers, baggage claim checks, schedule printouts and motel reservations as soon as you arrive in a city -- with future legs of your trip in mind. If you wait until the last minute you may be scrambling to make your bus, and there's a chance you'll run into a ticket clerk who is of little or no help. Most of the drivers and baggage handlers we dealt with were polite and professional, but some ticket and gate clerks seemed rude and strangely ill-informed. Terminals with clerks who seemed particularly confused included New York's Port Authority, Dallas and Phoenix. One recourse: Take names and see if there's a customer service office in the terminal with an agent on duty.

INFORMATION: Greyhound, 800-231-2222, www.greyhound.com. The Web site allows you to look at route maps, fares and schedules, and purchase tickets in advance. The Greyhound Travel Services Office, 800-440-3885, can help you plan your route and other aspects of your trip.