A Native American Indian girl on a Greyhound bus across the States.
In 1971 I was on a greyhound bus with my girlfriend, now my wife. We’d spent three months in the States working in Boston and then hitch-hiking and bussing our way around. We’d been up to Canada, down to Mexico and across to San Francisco, the redwoods, San Diego and Los Angeles with a memorable night under the stars at Big Sur where the mountain lions howled.
There were numerous incidents and tales that came out of that trip, tales of cars, crashes and near death, friends, camping and music. But now it was nearing its end.
We were heading back from the West Coast to the East in order to get a plane back to Britain.
On that long bus ride I got talking to a young woman. She was a Native American Indian who had been…
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