So last week I changed my job, rejoining old company for considerably more money than before, as well as an extra week’s vacation and a handful of other perks including an Eco-Pass for RTD-Denver, our local public transportation system. I’m a big fan of public transport, being a bit of a hippie on the side and one of the considerations when house hunting was whether or not I’d be able to commute by bus.
At 50 miles door to door, my commute is longer than most, but nonetheless, I was able to catch a bus from Pine Junction, about nine miles from my house, to Denver’s Civic Center, ten minutes on the free shuttle from my office. It was a long commute, a little under two hours from home to work, but I was able to read, work or relax while letting someone else do the driving. The only real issue was that the schedule didn’t allow me to stay in the office much after 5pm, not very practical in my line of work. That apart, I’m no great fan of driving, particularly in rush hour so I was more than happy to ride the bus whenever possible, particularly in the bad weather.
Then I took a job in the Denver Tech. Center; a desperate place, full of soulless office complexes, strip malls and gridlock. While it was technically possible to catch a bus there, the express portion ended some fifteen miles short of my office so the remainder of the journey had to be completed at a snail’s pace. This was no relaxing journey but a seemingly endless grind on top of an already long day. Driving was the only practical solution but that entailed sitting for between thirty minutes to an hour each day in nose to tail traffic. I’ve written previously about my sore left knee and the problems it suffered after working the clutch for that length of time. No fun.
So one of the many reasons I was excited to return to my office in the ex-gunpowder factory, was that once more, I’d have the option of commuting on the bus, or when it’s necessary for me to work late, by the light rail electric train. This latter option still requires me to drive some thirty miles, down the hill (and more of a strain, back up again), but has the advantage of avoiding the cost of downtown parking. I’m already making plans for the books I’m going to read, the tapes to which I’ll listen and the letters I’ll write; I’m also the proud owner of a spanking new laptop – I tell you, it’s a whole new world.
Of course, not every bus trip has been pleasant, far from it. There have been a few doozies, particularly in the bad weather. The first snowfall of last winter caught pretty much everybody off guard. Not just the commuters but the weather forecasters and the snow plow drivers too. I decided it was no weather for me to be commuting and smugly hopped on the bus. On balance, it was the right decision because I would have been stuck in the traffic just the same if I were driving myself, and the ride in that day took over three hours.
I’d neglected to bring a book which was a shame, although my fellow commuters were a chatty bunch. However, I had remembered to bring my coffee mug. In the early stages of the commute I was thrilled about this, being something of a coffee addict. It was only once we passed into hour three, with no end to the journey in sight and my bladder swelling to epic proportions did my joy begin to subside. Perhaps the cruelest blow was when we finally arrived at the Civic Center and gratefully poured towards the bathrooms that we discovered RTD had as usual, locked their bathrooms at 9:30am, when the regular rush hour was over. McDonalds did a brisk trade that morning.
Not wanting to get caught in the same kind of journey home, I left the office at 3pm, not too long after I’d arrived. Didn’t do me any good as the return trip took over 4 hours. To be fair, most of that was simply trying to get out of the city, which was experiencing gridlock on a biblical scale, but even once we finally made it onto the hill, our problems were far from over. It seems RTD too, were unprepared for the storm and had yet to outfit their buses with winter tires. So, we were slipping and sliding all over the road along with everyone else.
The windows had long since steamed up and frozen over although occasionally I would try to scrape a porthole to see if I could determine where we were. It was during one of these forays into the outside world I was treated to the curious sight of seeing a set of lights coming inexorably towards us. Now bear in mind, I was looking out of the side of the bus, not a direction in which you’d usually expect to see lights coming towards you, but to make the experience even more surreal, these were taillights, and they were attached to a snow plow. Was it sliding towards us, or were we sliding towards it? It turned out to be the former. The plow driver had lost control, done a 180 and was now sliding backwards down the hill, just as we were in the process of making a left turn in front of him. The commute was extended for another twenty minutes while insurance details were swapped.
That of course, was the exception and most days, the bus trip down 285 is a joy. Without having to concentrate on the road ahead, I’m able to take in the scenery and although I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again; this is a beautiful part of the world. Fragments of old 285, when it was little more than a mountain trail, tiny cemeteries, hidden streams and the wildlife, oh the wildlife are all exposed via the elevation of a bus seat. It tends to be too dark to view much during the winter naturally, but in spring and fall, we’re treated to sunrises and sunsets, in the full range of nature’s palette, pinks, and reds and of course, Denver Bronco’s orange.
I never will enjoy commuting but I love where I live and I love where I work, so it’s a necessary evil. And if I have to spend two hours a day just to get to and from work, there are worse ways to pass the time than riding a bus down 285.
At 50 miles door to door, my commute is longer than most, but nonetheless, I was able to catch a bus from Pine Junction, about nine miles from my house, to Denver’s Civic Center, ten minutes on the free shuttle from my office. It was a long commute, a little under two hours from home to work, but I was able to read, work or relax while letting someone else do the driving. The only real issue was that the schedule didn’t allow me to stay in the office much after 5pm, not very practical in my line of work. That apart, I’m no great fan of driving, particularly in rush hour so I was more than happy to ride the bus whenever possible, particularly in the bad weather.
Then I took a job in the Denver Tech. Center; a desperate place, full of soulless office complexes, strip malls and gridlock. While it was technically possible to catch a bus there, the express portion ended some fifteen miles short of my office so the remainder of the journey had to be completed at a snail’s pace. This was no relaxing journey but a seemingly endless grind on top of an already long day. Driving was the only practical solution but that entailed sitting for between thirty minutes to an hour each day in nose to tail traffic. I’ve written previously about my sore left knee and the problems it suffered after working the clutch for that length of time. No fun.
So one of the many reasons I was excited to return to my office in the ex-gunpowder factory, was that once more, I’d have the option of commuting on the bus, or when it’s necessary for me to work late, by the light rail electric train. This latter option still requires me to drive some thirty miles, down the hill (and more of a strain, back up again), but has the advantage of avoiding the cost of downtown parking. I’m already making plans for the books I’m going to read, the tapes to which I’ll listen and the letters I’ll write; I’m also the proud owner of a spanking new laptop – I tell you, it’s a whole new world.
Of course, not every bus trip has been pleasant, far from it. There have been a few doozies, particularly in the bad weather. The first snowfall of last winter caught pretty much everybody off guard. Not just the commuters but the weather forecasters and the snow plow drivers too. I decided it was no weather for me to be commuting and smugly hopped on the bus. On balance, it was the right decision because I would have been stuck in the traffic just the same if I were driving myself, and the ride in that day took over three hours.
I’d neglected to bring a book which was a shame, although my fellow commuters were a chatty bunch. However, I had remembered to bring my coffee mug. In the early stages of the commute I was thrilled about this, being something of a coffee addict. It was only once we passed into hour three, with no end to the journey in sight and my bladder swelling to epic proportions did my joy begin to subside. Perhaps the cruelest blow was when we finally arrived at the Civic Center and gratefully poured towards the bathrooms that we discovered RTD had as usual, locked their bathrooms at 9:30am, when the regular rush hour was over. McDonalds did a brisk trade that morning.
Not wanting to get caught in the same kind of journey home, I left the office at 3pm, not too long after I’d arrived. Didn’t do me any good as the return trip took over 4 hours. To be fair, most of that was simply trying to get out of the city, which was experiencing gridlock on a biblical scale, but even once we finally made it onto the hill, our problems were far from over. It seems RTD too, were unprepared for the storm and had yet to outfit their buses with winter tires. So, we were slipping and sliding all over the road along with everyone else.
The windows had long since steamed up and frozen over although occasionally I would try to scrape a porthole to see if I could determine where we were. It was during one of these forays into the outside world I was treated to the curious sight of seeing a set of lights coming inexorably towards us. Now bear in mind, I was looking out of the side of the bus, not a direction in which you’d usually expect to see lights coming towards you, but to make the experience even more surreal, these were taillights, and they were attached to a snow plow. Was it sliding towards us, or were we sliding towards it? It turned out to be the former. The plow driver had lost control, done a 180 and was now sliding backwards down the hill, just as we were in the process of making a left turn in front of him. The commute was extended for another twenty minutes while insurance details were swapped.
That of course, was the exception and most days, the bus trip down 285 is a joy. Without having to concentrate on the road ahead, I’m able to take in the scenery and although I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again; this is a beautiful part of the world. Fragments of old 285, when it was little more than a mountain trail, tiny cemeteries, hidden streams and the wildlife, oh the wildlife are all exposed via the elevation of a bus seat. It tends to be too dark to view much during the winter naturally, but in spring and fall, we’re treated to sunrises and sunsets, in the full range of nature’s palette, pinks, and reds and of course, Denver Bronco’s orange.
I never will enjoy commuting but I love where I live and I love where I work, so it’s a necessary evil. And if I have to spend two hours a day just to get to and from work, there are worse ways to pass the time than riding a bus down 285.
