Could It Be the Blue Moon?
I was jarred by two in-motion experiences today. The first was on the bus into work. I overheard a would-be passenger ask the driver if he stopped at 3rd and Denny. This bus route turns off of Denny onto 3rd, but the closest actual stop is 1.5 blocks back. The driver answered "no, I stop at 1st and Denny." I was dumbfounded when she did not board the bus.
I know. The driver could have been clearer and more helpful. But this was a seemingly healthy specimen who had somehow found her way to a bus stop in a decidedly non-residential area. It's certainly not very savvy to think you can tweak your Metro ride closer than a couple blocks to your ideal destination. Would you embark on a bus ride in unfamiliar territory without doing some research on routes ahead of time? And what are those legs for? If, by some magic, there was another route picking up at the same place that would have deposited her on her target doorstep, unless it was right behind us she could doubtless have crawled the couple blocks and gotten there faster.
I hope I have not become a snooty 1% commuter. Maybe she was dealing with a crisis of some sort, e.g., car breakdown, urgency, and no prior bus experience. But I did ponder a bit what her decision-making in the ensuing 15 minutes or so would involve, as likely another 3 or 4 buses would stop, most of them following exactly the same route as my bus, at least in the critical area. The exception would not even go near her target.
A few hours later I was enjoying a stretch of trail out of the Rainier Valley headed west towards the International District, where I planned to catch a bus back to work after a generous stretching of legs. Just before I reached the junction with the Sound-to-Mountains trail coming west from the I-90 floating bridge I was accosted by a walker with knapsack headed east. He pointed up at the S-to-M path he had just passed and asked where it went. I answered "to the floating bridge to Mercer Island." He looked absolutely mystified. "Floating bridge? Mercer Island??" Neither seemed to be in his searchable list of place-names. Asked how to head south, I pointed him back down my trail to Rainier Avenue.
I noted when I came to the trail juncture that there was clear signage indicating the other trail led to the floating bridge and Mercer Island. This pilgrim was amusingly carefree and casual about his wandering, probably geographically-challenged (not a great combination!), and quite possibly "not from around here." How he ended up on this great bit of trail amongst all the Urbia with his seemingly-limited internal cartography is fascinating to contemplate. At least he was seemingly well aware what legs are for.
I know. The driver could have been clearer and more helpful. But this was a seemingly healthy specimen who had somehow found her way to a bus stop in a decidedly non-residential area. It's certainly not very savvy to think you can tweak your Metro ride closer than a couple blocks to your ideal destination. Would you embark on a bus ride in unfamiliar territory without doing some research on routes ahead of time? And what are those legs for? If, by some magic, there was another route picking up at the same place that would have deposited her on her target doorstep, unless it was right behind us she could doubtless have crawled the couple blocks and gotten there faster.
I hope I have not become a snooty 1% commuter. Maybe she was dealing with a crisis of some sort, e.g., car breakdown, urgency, and no prior bus experience. But I did ponder a bit what her decision-making in the ensuing 15 minutes or so would involve, as likely another 3 or 4 buses would stop, most of them following exactly the same route as my bus, at least in the critical area. The exception would not even go near her target.
A few hours later I was enjoying a stretch of trail out of the Rainier Valley headed west towards the International District, where I planned to catch a bus back to work after a generous stretching of legs. Just before I reached the junction with the Sound-to-Mountains trail coming west from the I-90 floating bridge I was accosted by a walker with knapsack headed east. He pointed up at the S-to-M path he had just passed and asked where it went. I answered "to the floating bridge to Mercer Island." He looked absolutely mystified. "Floating bridge? Mercer Island??" Neither seemed to be in his searchable list of place-names. Asked how to head south, I pointed him back down my trail to Rainier Avenue.
I noted when I came to the trail juncture that there was clear signage indicating the other trail led to the floating bridge and Mercer Island. This pilgrim was amusingly carefree and casual about his wandering, probably geographically-challenged (not a great combination!), and quite possibly "not from around here." How he ended up on this great bit of trail amongst all the Urbia with his seemingly-limited internal cartography is fascinating to contemplate. At least he was seemingly well aware what legs are for.
posted by Sir Gumbo at 10:33 PM
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