Buses in Every Direction, Running in One

Point-to-Point

A bonus of public transit is it helps build "point-to-point" runs into my daily life (a run where your start and finish are different, as opposed to an "out-and-back" or loop). Last Thursday I went downtown to do some shopping, and rather than "just bike', I did the ol' run 'n' bus. It's always fun to run a route I always bike, like seeing an old friend in a new role. And because I don't like running home with pounds of books and breakable jars, I decided to run the first leg. Also it's downhill. (Slightly).

The point-to-point run lets running become transportation. I have a mission ("go from house to downtown") and my own two legs can accomplish it. It's satisfying. To the point where the only way to explain such satisfaction is by appeal to evolution. Our ancestors ran like this. They ran...to go somewhere. To end up somewhere else. Maybe they also ran in loops sometimes, hamster on a track, just to stay in shape or work off steam. I don't know. 

But I know I feel a similar connection to the chasm of human experience whenever I see a newborn. 'Cause however that baby feeds, flails or falls asleep, it does it just like its peers from ten-thousand years in the past. And when I run point-to-point, to fulfill a need, however contrived the circumstance, there's someone watching. From ten-thousand years in the past. And they're thinking "Wow! Still doing the running thing!" 

All this made possible by your local bus route. In my case, MCTS #30. Thanks #30. Thanks for playing the role of God in today's "Footprints in the Sand" poem. When times are tough (pounds of books and breakable jars) you bring me home.

Rerouting...

Last Friday I went to the Domes with my kids. With the cargo bike, it's a quick ride down Wells St, past the baseball stadium, along the Hank Aaron trail. Without the cargo bike, it's a pleasant ride east (#30 or #33), then change at 27th St. to the Purple Line heading south.

But the 27th St viaduct is closed. And the 16th St viaduct is closed. That means the Purple Line has a large detour.

The closure of 27th St was planned (as part of the I-94 megaproject), but the closure of 16th was bad timing (a corroded beam was found in December). Bad timing because it overlaps with the 27th closure. But maybe also good timing because they found the corrosion before catastrophe.

I could have looked up the detour before leaving home, but I was feeling adventurous. So adventurous that I let my son bike all the way to our #30 bus stop (first time). When we arrived, we saw an enormous, foreboding puddle in the street right in front of the bus stop. While waiting for the bus, we sang "Grün, grün, grün sind alle meine Kleider" until we ran out of colors. We were good spirits. And we stayed good spirits because when the bus arrived, the driver slowed and slipped into the puddle without a splash. Thank you, MCTS. 

The Domes were great.

(I started writing the paragraph below in present tense for some reason)

But now I have to get home. While I enjoyed the novelty of the far-flung detour once, I see no need to do it twice if I don't have to. A quick search reveals that I can take the #35 bus from 35th and National. I've never taken the #35 before. And I can walk there in 15 minutes. 14 of which I carry my son because he doesn't want to bike anymore. But I stay good spirits because the intersection of 35th and National -- it's cool. Not super bikeable, but pretty likable. Honest, down-to-earth bustle. Like an abridged Richard Scarry book with a few less people, places and things that go. 

When I got home, I did the math. We had spent more time traveling to the domes than marveling at the domes. This ratio doesn't work for all of us or all the time, but sometimes the bus -- it's fine. I love moving around with my kids. What would I even be doing with them at home with all that extra time? Probably books? The only difference between us reading on the bus and us reading on our sofa: 

Bus window has a better view.