- Remembering why I ride
- On buses and boundaries
- Art + buses + community = life (part II)
- Respect to those who came before, part V (Or, Why we need Indigenous People’s Day)
- On cars and community
- Buses are for everyone, part IV
- Multimodal Monday: Greenway riders
- Power to the people
- Art + buses + community = life
- A beautiful, brief ride
In the Bus Bag
Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth, edited by Llewellyn Vaughn-Lee
Monthly Archives: October 2010
I just returned from a transit nerd conference in Portland, where I spent some time experiencing transit envy–again (more later); some time hanging with my cousins-in-law, who now live in Portland; and not enough time admiring this cool gadget, the brainchild of Portland Transport‘s Chris Smith.
And when you ask her what kind of meeting the mommy pig is going to, she says, “A transit task force.”
One of the most common objections to getting around without a car (and specifically, to riding the bus) is that it simply takes too much time. Though this certainly isn’t always true (many commutes are faster with PT) I do concede that some–OK, a lot of–trips take longer by bus.*
And yet, I would argue that, compared to the average car-owning parent/professional, I come out ahead in the time department. How is this possible, you ask? Because the amount of time it takes to travel by car isn’t just about how quickly you can get from point A …
It’s been a slow month (and a half) for blogging. The move, which I intend to write about at some point, (mostly from a “selecting a home for a car-free family” perspective) and which is still in progress (at least, the getting settled part) took a lot out of me. That, plus a couple of consuming projects, extreme technical difficulties, and seemingly endless weekend events had me shifting most of my alt-transpo energies to Twitter.
For the time being, …
Somewhere near Blanchet, two black, high-school age girls board. They use the back door, because it’s closer to them when the bus stops.
The driver immediately starts hollering at them to come to the front and pay. His tone is harsh, definitely out of bounds for the level of infraction. The girls do as he asks but do not comment until they find their seats, at which point they begin whispering to each other in earnest.
At UW Medical Center, a blonde, twentysomething woman boards through the back door, presumably for the same reason as the girls. Again, the driver …