So you wanna to be a Glacier Red Bus Driver?  Part 3:  Family Ties.

DISCLAIMER: Everything in this series is solely based on my own experience as a Red Bus tour driver in Glacier Park. The metrics from which I derive many of my insights and conclusions are based specifically on my abilities and performance alone. As with driving a car, your mileage WILL vary.

Red Bus drivers are a different breed. I think at this point you have come to understand that there are a lot of skill sets that have to be honed, overlaid, and precisely aligned to really be successful.

All of that takes a certain mindset to process. A common thread that somehow ties together a group of strangers with very little (if anything) in common.

I think it’s time to speak to the social element of being a Jammer. The strong sense of family, be it implied or expressed. With all the happiness, celebration, conflict, and drama of a real family.

Although everyone is doing the same job, every day they confront and deal with their unique fears and uncertainties to get that job done. But it is the knowledge they are all facing the same challenges (though processing differently), that really forges a sense of unspoken unity that can’t be denied.

This bond, as it were, is not spoken. Just felt. Like when magnets snap together with no visible attraction.  This is a good time to give Michael J Fox a shoutout.  And pay a little homage to his glory days before Marty McFly.

As a seasonal job, Red Bus drivers draw people from all over the country. Many have never been to Montana before, let alone even driven ANY kind of motor vehicle on the Going to the Sun Road.

Very few have much if any, public speaking experience. Most first-timers don’t have a CDL. Suddenly they find themselves (at least on the East Side) thrown together in a great communal melting pot.

Common kitchen. Common laundry. Roommates with bunk beds and shared bathrooms and stuff everywhere.  Ages 25 to 75.  It’s like being a kid again with a messy brother or sister that you would like to disown.

You are not just working with these people. You spend time with them. From the long workdays and washing the buses every night, to the occasional campfire and jigsaw puzzle in the commons.

At least in Beargrass we were blessed (or cursed, pending on your perspective) with high-speed WiFi. Ask the foreign student workers from Thailand, who would take the employee shuttle to our location just to stream every free hour on anime.

This is a very diverse group of people. Everyone has their own personal backstory. And personal agenda. Some are here by design, others by happenstance. But I like to think they all came to this place I love so much at this time in their lives for a reason. A few may already know their reason.  Maybe on the path to discovery.

Some will leave satisfied. While others will never realize the forest for the trees.  Would they leave without ever understanding their purpose here?  Without ever knowing the ‘why’.

I know, a romantic perspective. But by extension, if everyone was here for a personal reason, then there must be an overarching reason. That single common thread that weaves thru all of these unique and different tapestries of life.  But what is it?  What were we all these people brought together for? Then it hit me.

We all have the same demanding job. A job that very few people would take on. And we use our personal differences to solve the many challenges of that job in very different ways.

I believe we were all here to learn from each other. Regardless of years of experience. Regardless of personal like.  Regardless of judgment or opinion.  No matter how wise we think we are.

This realization came to me early in the season. So I kept my eyes (and more importantly my mind) open. Let me share some of the amazing things I learned.

Yes, the names have been withheld to protect the innocent. Except for the first one. That’s Kirk from the famous Beargrass Raven Incident.

Jammer K:

Be careful with first impressions. It is very easy to pre-judge the people on your bus. Since tips are the only way to make money, you are always sizing guests up (more on that in a later post).

Some mornings when you are starting a 14-hour day, it can be daunting. The guests aren’t interacting well. Most are complaining about their seats. Some are grouchy. The weather has everyone in a bad mood. You start thinking negatively. You want to skimp on the dialog and just get the day done.

But this Jammer showed me time after time that if you give your guests the very best you have, you will (eventually) get the very best out of them. Sure, a group might take a few hours to warm up. And some people you will never get to smile. But at the end of the day, it all comes down to commitment. When you turn that key in the ignition, don’t hold back.

Jammer J:

Salty jokes. When she told my tour I just got my driver’s license back, but I still had the ankle bracelet on for another four weeks. For the rest of my tour, people kept looking at my ankle to see if there was REALLY an electronic bracelet down there.

This opened my eyes to the fact people expect (and appreciate) a little dash of good-hearted banter. Not just between drivers but with guests as well. To be honest, this kind of salty humor made my job more fun as well.  And as with real salt, I use it sparingly.

Jammer B:

Be the real you. He was truly a refreshing surprise. He had a very hard time getting his CDL, knew nothing of the Park, and didn’t pick up much for narrative.

But he had a personality that the guests were drawn to, and probably one of the nicest and most considerate co-workers I have had the privilege to work with side by side. I came to realize that being a simple, genuine, honest, happy person is a good way to go thru life and something we should all strive for.

Jammer T:

Great communication. He came across as pretty conceited with a dash of arrogance. He would take over any group conversation and rubbed some drivers (and mechanics) the wrong way. But after sharing a couple of tours,

I came to respect how he handled his guests. Learning names, and great articulation, and his storytelling was smooth and seamless. Always well delivered, and often well received. Respecting his skill in the craft will always trump personality like in my book.

I picked up a couple of techniques that I used going forward with quite a bit of success.

Jammer C:

Don’t talk. Literally, not saying a word to the passengers. Not even answering questions (although he would jabber non-stop to the female drivers). I’ll jump into that math in a later post, but he figured out that if he gave zero narratives and just drove, it didn’t hurt his paycheck that much.

Xanterra would not fire him, given ANY driver behind the wheel bought in roughly $1700 to $2000 in gross revenue every day. Sure, he got complaints. Sure, guests on his tours got screwed. Sure, he had to live with himself (and horrible 14mm gauges in his ear lobes with prison-style leg tattoos – all technically not allowed).

The job is 80% talking. If you don’t do any and only take a 20ish% pay hit, suddenly you have an easy job and easy money. My takeaway? Half-assing your way thru life is no life at all. If you are not going to add value to your existence, fine. Just don’t do it at the expense of others.

Jammer R:

Corny jokes. My narrative was more educational-based. You know, the fauna/flora/history of GNP that I love so much.

I had a tourist ask me when loading once “are you going to give us a bunch of corny jokes?” I replied, “You mean like all of the rock here is sedimentary, but most people take it for granite?” He giggled and nodded. I said ‘No, I don’t do that.’ Guess what? No tip.

Yes, this Jammer showed me they do have their place. Although she used them a LOT, and telling groaners isn’t my thing, they do speak the kid in all of us. And on vacation in a vintage red bus, who doesn’t want to shed the responsibilities of the world and be a kid for a couple of hours?

And when there were children on her bus, it was like she was printing twenty-dollar bills. So, I added some corn to my narrative stew.

Jammer F:

Speed (or lack of). He was known for always driving slowly. Like when driving thru a school zone when the flashing lights are going off. Which was a little awkward when doing a group tour and trying to keep all of the buses together.

But outside that, why hurry down one of the most beautiful roads in the world? His people appreciated it. It took me a while to understand that is exactly the way I would like to be treated when sight-seeing the Park. Bottom line: drive your own drive and give the best tour you can.

Jammer A:

Fishing. No, I didn’t learn how to fish nor wanted to. But this was his passion, and why he was working at the Park that summer.

He reminded me that if being a Jammer is not your passion, then use it as a means to reach your true passion. Be the absolute best Jammer can. Even if you don’t love it, it enables you to do what you truly love.

A means to an end, where everybody wins (both you and your guests).

Jammer S:

Screaming. For some reason, she didn’t like to use a microphone. I guess screaming narrative at a dozen and half people BEHIND you (while driving an open-top tour bus 40 mph down a winding mountain road) is ONE method of giving tours.

But after seeing it in use firsthand, I’ve learned it’s just not for me. Or my throat.

Conclusion:

So I guess both Xanterra and myself both left something off of the Red Bus qualifications list.

You need to be willing to join a group of people that you will remember for the rest of your life. People you will work with. Commiserate with. Laugh with. Smile with. Swear with. Make fun of tourists with. There will even be some you don’t like. And although your paths may never cross again, you will never forget any of them.

Now, are you ready to be a Red Bus Driver? Get ready for the next part of this series!