Here is an
interesting article about what it's like to give up cars in a city which isn't very mass-transit or pedestrian friendly.
In the comments to Jim Pauwels' Palm Sunday post the subject of parking lot traffic jams came up. And coincidentally I saw the article in the Omaha World Herald about Don Ferree Jr.'s Lenten penance.
“This is definitely a bigger commitment than giving up sweets for Lent,” the school guidance counselor says, half-smiling and half-grimacing as the rain continues to fall."
"He hasn’t been inside a car — not his car, or his wife’s car, or anyone’s car — in more than a month. He has spent hours planning his bus schedules. He has waited for buses, gotten lost on buses, missed buses, sprinted after buses, walked many miles to find buses and, in one case, skipped the bus and jogged for many, many miles in his street clothes."
He is learning the joys and frustrations of taking the bus in a car-centric city.
“My life is kind of tethered to these,” he says, holding up his collection of bus maps.
Once in March, he had to figure out how to make it from his home near 108th and Fort to deep inside Bellevue. He ended up taking three buses and then walking 5 miles. The journey took him four hours, one way. Then, an hour or so later, he had to come back.
And that wasn’t the wildest ride. That occurred when Don wanted to attend his niece’s performance of “Mamma Mia!” in Papillion. The play occurred on a weekend night, a big hassle because Omaha bus schedules thin out at night.
Don eventually designed a route that involved four transfers and then a 2-mile walk to his house — a bus doesn’t stop any nearer than that to his house at night. But then, worried about the lack of time between the transfers — a little terrified that he would miss one and then have to wait a whole hour for another — Don simply began to jog.
And that wasn’t the wildest ride. That occurred when Don wanted to attend his niece’s performance of “Mamma Mia!” in Papillion. The play occurred on a weekend night, a big hassle because Omaha bus schedules thin out at night.
Don eventually designed a route that involved four transfers and then a 2-mile walk to his house — a bus doesn’t stop any nearer than that to his house at night. But then, worried about the lack of time between the transfers — a little terrified that he would miss one and then have to wait a whole hour for another — Don simply began to jog.
Don’s insane jog-and-ride accidentally identifies some of the weaknesses in our bus system — weaknesses that Curt Simon, Metro’s director, can easily ID, too.
Simon sees Don's point. “Ideally you wouldn’t need to know our schedule. A bus would just come every 10 or 15 minutes. ... I get asked why we can’t be more like Minneapolis. They spend $150 per capita on transit. We spend $36.”
"Don is not complaining. He took this project on himself.
"...the truth is, he says, the experience has been better than he ever would have guessed. The fellow riders are almost uniformly nice. The bus drivers are almost uniformly helpful when he gets a little lost. The buses are far cleaner and nicer than he expected."
"...Don has also run into old students, and met strangers who are becoming new friends."
"...Before he gets off, he says he isn’t sure how much he will ride the bus once Lent ends. But he will most assuredly remember this month for the rest of his life. That $55 bus pass, he thinks, was money incredibly well-spent."
Honestly, Don is not complaining. He took this project upon himself, after all. He wanted to give up something big for Lent. And he wanted to try to truly understand what it means to be car-less in Omaha, not by choice but because you simply can’t afford a car.
And, the truth is, he says, the experience has been better than he ever would have guessed. The fellow riders are almost uniformly nice. The bus drivers are almost uniformly helpful when he gets a little lost. The buses are far cleaner and nicer than he expected.
What he has learned — what Simon says a lot of new riders learn — is that the experience of riding the bus in Omaha is actually much more positive than we assume before we ever step aboard.
Don eventually designed a route that involved four transfers and then a 2-mile walk to his house — a bus doesn’t stop any nearer than that to his house at night. But then, worried about the lack of time between the transfers — a little terrified that he would miss one and then have to wait a whole hour for another — Don simply began to jog.
Don ran cross-country in college. He’s a serious runner with the knee surgeries to prove it. He ran 1 mile, 2 miles, 3. He ran all the way from Papillion-La Vista High School to 72nd and Dodge, a 7-mile jaunt. There he caught a bus, then another bus, before getting off and wearily trudging the final 2 miles home near midnight.
Honestly, Don is not complaining. He took this project upon himself, after all. He wanted to give up something big for Lent. And he wanted to try to truly understand what it means to be car-less in Omaha, not by choice but because you simply can’t afford a car.
And, the truth is, he says, the experience has been better than he ever would have guessed. The fellow riders are almost uniformly nice. The bus drivers are almost uniformly helpful when he gets a little lost. The buses are far cleaner and nicer than he expected.
What he has learned — what Simon says a lot of new riders learn — is that the experience of riding the bus in Omaha is actually much more positive than we assume before we ever step aboard.
Honestly, Don is not complaining. He took this project upon himself, after all. He wanted to give up something big for Lent. And he wanted to try to truly understand what it means to be car-less in Omaha, not by choice but because you simply can’t afford a car.
And, the truth is, he says, the experience has been better than he ever would have guessed. The fellow riders are almost uniformly nice. The bus drivers are almost uniformly helpful when he gets a little lost. The buses are far cleaner and nicer than he expected.
What he has learned — what Simon says a lot of new riders learn — is that the experience of riding the bus in Omaha is actually much more positive than we assume before we ever step aboard.
“My life is kind of tethered to these,” he says, holding up his collection of bus maps.
But, as we finish our rainy walk and wait at a bus stop near 114th and Dodge, Don tells me that this journey is nothing.
Once in March, he had to figure out how to make it from his home near 108th and Fort to deep inside Bellevue. He ended up taking three buses and then walking 5 miles. The journey took him four hours, one way. Then, an hour or so later, he had to come back.
And that wasn’t the wildest ride. That occurred when Don wanted to attend his niece’s performance of “Mamma Mia!” in Papillion. The play occurred on a weekend night, a big hassle because Omaha bus schedules thin out at night.
Don eventually designed a route that involved four transfers and then a 2-mile walk to his house — a bus doesn’t stop any nearer than that to his house at night. But then, worried about the lack of time between the transfers — a little terrified that he would miss one and then have to wait a whole hour for another — Don simply began to jog.
Don ran cross-country in college. He’s a serious runner with the knee surgeries to prove it. He ran 1 mile, 2 miles, 3. He ran all the way from Papillion-La Vista High School to 72nd and Dodge, a 7-mile jaunt. There he caught a bus, then another bus, before getting off and wearily trudging the final 2 miles home near midnight.
“My life is kind of tethered to these,” he says, holding up his collection of bus maps.
But, as we finish our rainy walk and wait at a bus stop near 114th and Dodge, Don tells me that this journey is nothing.
Once in March, he had to figure out how to make it from his home near 108th and Fort to deep inside Bellevue. He ended up taking three buses and then walking 5 miles. The journey took him four hours, one way. Then, an hour or so later, he had to come back.
And that wasn’t the wildest ride. That occurred when Don wanted to attend his niece’s performance of “Mamma Mia!” in Papillion. The play occurred on a weekend night, a big hassle because Omaha bus schedules thin out at night.
Don eventually designed a route that involved four transfers and then a 2-mile walk to his house — a bus doesn’t stop any nearer than that to his house at night. But then, worried about the lack of time between the transfers — a little terrified that he would miss one and then have to wait a whole hour for another — Don simply began to jog.
Don ran cross-country in college. He’s a serious runner with the knee surgeries to prove it. He ran 1 mile, 2 miles, 3. He ran all the way from Papillion-La Vista High School to 72nd and Dodge, a 7-mile jaunt. There he caught a bus, then another bus, before getting off and wearily trudging the final 2 miles home near midnight.
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
He is learning the huge frustrations and also the hidden joys of taking the bus inside our car-centric city.
“There are all these situations I hadn’t thought of,” he says of getting around Omaha via bus. “There are all these difficulties for people I didn’t truly understand.”
German public transportation is more friendly to bicycles. I wonder how this guy's trips and planning would have gone if supplemented by bike travel. Of course, biking is dangerous given the quality of many drivers' skills.
ReplyDeleteBiking to work would be way too scary in Omaha. There have been a number of car bicycle fatalities. There is nowhere for the bikes to go to get out of the stream of car traffic. That said, they have a good bike and hiking trail system through scenic areas. But that is recreational, it won't take you shopping or to work.
DeleteI'm sure. On my own road, it wouldn't be too long before some Yahoo in a pickup truck wiped me out. I once tried walking back a mile after leaving my car for state inspection. I was constantly ready to dive off of the road.
DeleteDerby drivers get a lot fewer points for hitting cyclists than they do for hitting people with walkers in the crosswalk. But maybe that's just Florida.
ReplyDeleteHad to go pick up a friend of ours two weeks ago. The bus driver pulled up two miles short of our friend's destination and four miles short of the end of the run and announced that the "bus company" had ordained that that was as far as the last run of the day would go that day. Our friend had a block of concrete fall on his foot and break some toes that day, but he was really concerned about the passenger who was in a wheel chair. I will say our buses are new, clean and air-conditioned, as well as rare.
I did a short stint teaching in Flint, Mich., for a year. One student was always late because she was a single mother who had to get her toddler to daycare on the bus and then back-track to campus on another bus while wrangling books and a diaper bag.
ReplyDeleteThings were similarly difficult at the rural college where I taught for the last 10 years. There were no busses, just a dial-a-ride service, and students with small children were cobbling up transpo. The college did offer a very good onsite daycare/preschool program, but it was prohibitively expensive.
If you are elderly or handicapped and need to get to appointments, finding door-to-door transpo is just about impossible in a lot of locales.
In Michigan, biking just isn't feasible three or four month out of the year due to weather.
I hope stories like this highlight the transpo crisis for low-income people who can't drive, not just being a humorous Lenten heart-warmer anecdote.
I wonder if the Uber and Lyft type of services are doing anything in the smaller poorer cities. For the handicapped and elderly most places have a "handi-bus", but you have to call ahead and are at the mercy of their schedule.
DeleteThe Boy tells me Uber and Lyft are.pricey for daily commutes. My mother would stay home rather than deal with handi-bus. A 30 minute trip to the doc would take three hours waiting for the ride to and back.
DeleteNow the grouchy old late-blooming socialist has to point out: After we got highways built over slums and gated our communities, we didn't need police. That meant money for the rent-a-cop business -- gahden pahties, you know -- but cuts to the cops for the other people. After we got private jets, commercial airliners became cattle cars. After we got the best medicine money can buy, we had to fight off lesser people who wanted to get in on it with our money. What it comes down to, is we don't need buses, so any buses that exist have to exist without our custom. If you are a we, all this is good. Most people are not we. Tough on them. But why is the maid always late?
ReplyDeleteI lived on the north side of Chicago without a car for ... let's see ... about eight years. I rode the el train and buses. In the 1980s in Chicago, that was still very possible in the neighborhoods near the lake (it still is, although some of the bus routes have been eliminated or night service cut out, and the trains don't run as often nor as fast on the rickety infrastructure).
ReplyDeleteGrocery shopping was a pain, and so was shopping for anything bulky. I once went to a Sears store on Damen Avenue by riding the Howard el train from my downtown job to the Wilson Ave. stop, walking through skid row for about 10 blocks, purchasing the microwave oven, and then carrying it back 10 blocks to the station. It took up a seat on the el train.
For about three years before I got married, I lived in an apartment a few steps off Clark Street. The Clark Street bus ran pretty frequently and took me downtown to my job. When I got back home, there was a hot dog stand between the bus stop and the apartment, so 4 or 5 days out of seven I bought dinner there rather than cook for myself. Such was the life of a single guy. Part of it was simple laziness, but part of it was the difficulty of lugging groceries on a bus. Besides, cooking for one person was difficult.
Six or seven years ago, I bought a bicycle that was suitable for commuting back and forth to my office, which was about 8 miles away. By then I had relocated to the suburbs, which are pretty minimally bike-friendly. With the help of Google Maps I figured out a way to get there that involved side streets and sidewalks. I don't trust suburban drivers at all so avoided the main roads at all costs. They don't think about cyclists. It actually worked fairly well. Among the downsides: it took me about 45 minutes in each direction (I didn't ride as the crow flies), and when I arrived, I'd be pretty sweaty, not least because I had on a backpack with my notebook computer. I had a fresh shirt and deodorant in the backpack. Luckily, I didn't have to attend face-to-face meetings or even interact with other people in person. But the stars had to align: the weather had to be good, and I had to have enough time before and after work to make the commute. I did it for a few years, not very often because the stars didn't align that often. Then the company closed our office and I've worked from home ever since. I still have the bike - haven' had it out yet this season (we had 3" of snow yesterday) but will pull it out of mothballs soon. But I have lung issues now such that I probably shouldn't try an eight mile commute, even if I had a place to go.
There are buses out here, but there are no stops within a couple of miles in any direction, and none of them take me where I need to go.
If the Chicago hot dogs of my memory have survived in niches here or there, you had perfectly satisfying dinners four or five days out of seven, and you probably didn't do much damage to your life expectancy. I mean, I ate them, and I'm still here (and missing them).
ReplyDeleteYeah, the dogs are good. It's the fries that are the issue.
DeleteI haven't actually been car-less since college days. I got around in college by shank's mare, and bumming the occasional ride. I sometimes regaled the kids with quaint expressions like that. Such as, these days one might have to go around Robin Hood's barn to avoid damaged roads. Then there were my kids' awful cars that they could afford, prior to getting a real job. They were what I called two-rosary cars, one to get them there, and one to get them home.
ReplyDeleteYou stumped me with "shank's mare" and "Robin Hood's barn". Thank goodness for Google :-)
DeleteExpressions I heard my parents use :)
Delete