His luck turned

By Bob

It was nearing midnight on the No. 12 Barbur. The bus was still about half full as it reached the Burlingame Freddies on its run from downtown to the 'burbs on a sticky summer night.

A couple of people exited at Fred's, while a bike rider in his 30s stuck his head in the door and asked the driver a question. He wanted to know whether he could bring his bike aboard since the rack on the front of the bus was filled.

Now, apparently, it's against the rules to have a bike inside the bus. But sometimes an easygoing driver will let it happen if the bus isn't too crowded. There was plenty of room for a bike inside the bus this night. But the driver wasn't in an accommodating mood. "Sorry, guy, you are out of luck," she said. She closed the door and the bus chugged off.

We headed up the hill toward the Barbur Transit Center. The bus made several stops along the way, letting a half-dozen or so people off. We also hit a couple of red lights. It wasn't the swiftest journey.

We pulled into the transit center parking lot and a couple more people departed, one them removing a bike from the rack. The driver said she was getting out and would be back in two minutes. Potty break.

As the driver left the restroom and was returning to the bus, from out of the darkness came the bike rider from Fred Meyer, pedaling for all his might. He swooped up to the bus just as the driver hit the steps.

"I guess it's your lucky night after all," she said to him.

He was out of breath. All he could do was nod back. He had just pedaled up a long incline of perhaps a mile and a half.

He stuck his bike on the rack, struggled up the steps into the bus and displayed his pass. He staggered to a seat and sank into it. He took off his helmet, leaned against the window and closed his eyes.

The driver closed the door and No. 12 headed back out onto Barbur and headed for the 'burbs.