Google Maps Makes New Routes Easy

Saturday morning, cold and gray.  As I leave the house, the sky spits rain that hits my face as icy pricks.  Matt has the car this weekend, so I’m relying on alternate transportation to get where I need to go.


I’m on my way to the North Spokane Library for a writing workshop that starts at 10:15 and have mapped a route from my house that has me walking out the door at 9:02 a.m. and arriving at the library about ten minutes before 10.  My destination lies in a part of town that I’m not well acquainted with, but Google Maps tells me there’s a Sweet Frostings nearby where I can while away the twenty extra minutes.

Zoom in and out to get a better look 

at your route.  Along the bottom ribbon, 

select the bus icon for STA routes.  The

number "33" in the blue box indicates

the bus route number.

Although I’ve been commuting by public transportation for almost a year, it’s been a few months since I’ve attempted a new bus route.  Day after day I take the same route and am so habituated to it that I can readily become engrossed in a book.  I sense where we are by the sway of the bus, the rev of the engine, and the automated voice prompts.

This morning’s route is straight forward, but I’m relying on Google Map’s directions since I’m heading into unfamiliar territory.  Google Maps is the best way to access Spokane Transit Authority routes (select the bus option under “directions” instead of drive or walk).  It shows the beginning and end points, all of the bus stops along the way, transfers, and segments where walking is required.  Voice navigation can be turned on just like when you’re using the app in your car and it will alert you three stops before your destination.

I board the bus just as the rain lets up and collapse my dripping umbrella.  A handful of us transit Wellesley together, quietly surfing our phones.  I can’t concentrate on my book because I’m following my on-screen progress.  At Division and Wellesley, I follow two young people off the bus and then traipse along behind them as we cross the busy intersection.  They peel off at the NorthTown Mall – perhaps heading to work in one of the stores or restaurants that will open soon.

The white circles denote bus stops. The small blue

dots indicate walking section.  The heavy blue

line is the bus route.

Google Maps shows me where to walk, but I can see the #25 stop as soon as I look up – it’s demarcated by a roomy shelter set between gold-leaf trees.  The wind is chilly and so I seek relief inside and intently monitor oncoming northbound traffic so I can step out and be seen by the driver in time for him or her to safely pull over.

I wait ten minutes and, right on time, my ride arrives.  We motor past the strip development that defines Division:  Flamin' Joe’s Firey Ribs, Tire-Rama, Senor Froggy, Red Box.  I peer past the row of commerce to the dense housing I’ve never noticed before – hundreds of apartment units in side-by-side complexes, houses, fourplexes.  Fellow riders hop on and off all along the way, most likely coming and going to and from work and home.

I watch for the arrival of my bus on 

Division from the dry glass walled

shelter.

I track us on Google Maps north along Division, then east on North Country, then left on Hawthorne.  I pull the bell cord, the driver swings to the sidewalk and I disembark directly across from the library.  The bus is right on schedule which means I have time a'plenty to walk up to Sweet Frostings Blissful Bakery.  Inside, the lights are bright and the décor cheery, there's even a faux fireplace that inexplicably warms me.  One young man greets me and takes my coffee order while the other breezily boxes up a quad pack of Harry Potter cupcakes.  I carry my steamy Americano to the window seat and close the map app. Google Maps and the STA worked seamlessly together this morning and now it’s time to settle in for a day of learning.

Every bus ride is better when it ends with a piping hot espresso.  Here, Sweet Frostings Blissful Bakery.

Lime Scooters - Maybe Not So Practical

I’m not sold on Lime.  I hate to say it because I want to be sold.  

Inspired by the company’s splashy advertising, I envisioned riding the bus downtown during the balmy summer months, hopping aboard a Lime at the Plaza and scooting on over to my office a mile and a half hence.  I envisioned a jaunty ride and a little fun to start and end my day.  But, after a couple of trips, I decided that while part of that is achievable, the reality of Liming is also lightly shaded by several practicalities that make it, at least for me, not an entirely feasible part of my alternative transportation commute.


I ride the bus two or three days a week from the northside to downtown where I transfer buses and motor on east where I work.  I pay $4 a day for the bus.  The bus stops are relatively close to my home and my office, so I don’t mind the walk, but, I thought that on sunny mornings it would break things up by ending my bus leg at the Plaza and riding a scooter the rest of the way.  


I was a bit intimidated by the idea of learning to ride and briefly considered taking the Lime class that was offered at Riverfront Park, but decided I could probably figure it out.  The instructional video on Lime’s website was great and, thus armed with the basics, I did my training ride on an unpopulated section of the Centennial Trail – just in case.  My ride was flawless that first time.  I quickly figured out how to unlock the scooter with the app, how to get it in motion and (importantly!) how to break gently.


My first "real" ride went well from a driving perspective.  I found a scooter right where I expected it and right where the app indicated several stood waiting.  Pushing off, I was soon wheeling my way down Main Street toward Division.  It occurred to me as I rode that if this were to become a common part of my day, I’d need to change out the shoulder tote for a bonafide backpack.  Carrying something weighty on one side was awkward.

While these cheery looking scooters are a hoot to 

ride, they're not very practical as part of a 

daily commute.

Division and Main is a very busy intersection and I nervously waited to cross, concerned that if I bumbled here, the consequences could be great.  The walk beacon lit and I pushed off.  Success.  But when I reached the other side, I met my first trouble.  The street over there was riddled with potholes and divets and cracks, all of which I felt keenly.  The scooter’s little wheels are not rubber like bike tires, so the rider receives the shock of each irregularity.  Nonetheless, I navigated around most of the significant pavement hazards.


The unit was heavier than I’d expected and that created a problem when I took a wrong turn and had to manually re-orient.  Thinking it would be like a bike, I hopped off and attempted to manhandle it.  The heft made it difficult, but more than that the device’s platform moves freely from the handle bar.  The back end hit my ankle, leaving it bleeding.


Chalking that  up to beginner’s error, I moved on.  I motored up over the University Gateway Bridge, enjoying the view and the thrum of the passing train below, but then came to Sprague where I realized I couldn’t scoot across due to road construction.  I’d have to push.   And push I did.  The scooter was heavy and the tail flopped around aggressively aiming for my bloody ankle, ready to take a second bite.


I made it across, but then was faced with more uneven, broken pavement the remaining six detour blocks.  This section is not scooter friendly at all – the sidewalks are narrow, pitted, and people have placed dumpsters and park cars in such a way as to block access.  The streets are similarly discouraging.


Once at work, I locked the Lime and left it to be retrieved by the tender that evening.

Inside, I checked my ride and found that my 1.5 mile jaunt had cost me $6.25 and took me 20 minutes.  Thus, a quick mental calculation revealed that if I used a Lime on days when I rode the bus I’d be paying: $4 for the bus  + $12.50 for the scooter = $16.50 – roughly the cost of a Lyft from my house to work.  Even if I cut that down by not making a wrong turn again and having to push the scooter across a construction zone, the cost was way too high to be a reasonable part of a commute.  Not only that, but twenty minutes on the scooter is longer than my second bus leg takes - even accounting for a layover at the Plaza.


Next year, when the Sprague construction is over and the pavement smooth as silk, I’ll try the ride again.  I’ll give Lime a second chance.  But, as of October 2019, I’m not convinced that scooting is a practical part of a commute.  Fun and sporty though they may be.

The Pedestrian Part of a Bus Commute

Here in Spokane my bus stops are close to my destinations.  That means I don't have to walk far to get home (only a block and a half) or to work (a block).  But, both coming and going I cross busy arterials - Sprague and Alberta - during rush hour.  It's been pleasantly surprising that drivers are generally careful.  They generally stop and most often give me space.  But there are some drivers who don't appear to be fully aware of some of the finer points of a shared roadway.

Let me say, before laying out my issue for your consideration, that I'm a half time bus commuter and a half time car commuter, splitting my workweek up with a couple of days driving and a couple of days bus hopping.  Thus, I view the streets from both perspectives.

Washington law says that all intersections - even

 those without these readily 

 identifiable white paint marks - are 

cross walks and vehicles must yield to allow

 pedestrians to cross.  It's true - Google it!

That being said, it's my observation that the vast majority of motorists in Spokane don't realize that Washington law says that all intersections are crosswalks - even when the easily recognized painted ladder-pattern is absent.  When drivers see a pedestrian waiting to cross the street at any intersection (except those with lights), they are obligated to stop and let the person walk.  I was surprised by this myself, having always thought the white crosswalks were the only place where a pedestrian holds the right-of-way.  It makes sense because crosswalks are far between in many places.  If pedestrians were only allowed to cross busy streets at these specific locations, they would walk many extra blocks and, like motorists, pedestrians are seeking the most efficient way to get from place to place.

I've noticed this oversight in a couple of spots around my neighborhood.  I have to cross Driscoll at 7:15 a.m. when a solid stream of cars is heading south.  I've waited at that intersection five minutes before someone stops to let me across.  The nearest painted crosswalk is blocks away.  The same holds true for Alberta.  The bus lets me off at an unmarked intersection where, at first, I tried to cross, but car after fast moving car would not stop to let me go.  I eventually tired of that, so now I walk a block north, use the school's crosswalk, then double back a block.  Not a big deal for me, but for some it might be tough.  Think about the fact that there isn't a sidewalk at all from the bus stop to the crosswalk.  So, I walk across sand and then across someone's uneven yard.  If I was in a wheelchair or was injured it would be a bigger challenge.  There's honestly not very many people crossing these streets by foot, so it's hard to imagine it's more burdensome for a motorist to stop at this corner versus that corner.

This is the shrub that I hope to not end up under 

when a distracted driver hits me while crossing the street.  

It's why I wait until the cars in both lanes have come to a stop

 before I step out into traffic.

Not long ago, a Facebook friend cattily shared that if she's going to stop for a pedestrian the least [the lowlife*] could do is hustle.  A truly lovely person, I think she must have just been having a bad day, but she's not the only person who views things this way.  As a car commuter, I know it's a bummer to slow down or miss the green light, but the roads really are intended for all forms of transportation - motorized, non-motorized, bike, scooter, car, truck, semi, and the good old foot.  Sometimes it's too darned hot to hustle or my bunion is acting up or I ran hills so my quads are killing me or I forgot to wear sensible shoes that day.  When that's my condition, I hope my fellow roadies will give me the extra fifteen seconds to make my way to the other side.

*"the lowlife" added by me for emphasis

Construction Season

It's an interesting time to live in Spokane.  There's construction everywhere.  In my neighborhood the roundabout is being torn up and unspecified subterranean work is underway.  A Street is closed to through traffic and my normal bus stop has been uprooted and relocated to Alberta, denoted by a sandwich sign that reads "temporary bus stop".

On my way to work, a lane is blocked off and all traffic is forcibly merged into a single snaking line of vehicles.

Downtown on the eastbound side of the Plaza, I disembark from the #33 and hustle to the corner past a gated section of sidewalk.  I board the #90 and almost halfway to my destination, we're diverted onto a bouncing-jouncing detour.

In the evening, after work is done and I'm heading home, my route takes me again to the Plaza where there is more construction.  The entire set of westbound zones is fenced and buses stop directly in traffic loading and unloading passengers.  The driver yells at us, "I said exit through the front doors - not the back!"  I hasten to find where my zone for the #20 has gone.  It's there.  It's well marked.  I won't be left behind.

Indeed, all of Spokane is under construction.  Near my office three new commercial buildings rise from the dusty earth, cranes lifting steel to form their skeletons.  Raking, grating, pounding join the tympany roar of the train to create an orchestra of growth.  Out in front, the entire street has been dug up for months as crews repair underground utilities, fix the roadway's foundation.  I understand that they will build new sidewalks, repave, create turn lanes and so on.  I read that they will build a new bus stop with a bench and shelter near the Gateway Bridge.  So, I look forward to that.

Art on Route #90

It's not right there at the bus stop.  You have to wander down the alley between the red brick Pride Prep and the structure next door, toward the train tracks that lay beyond the chain link fence and the slothful river further yet.  Even then, when you see it for the first time you probably won't notice it.  But after moving past it a couple of times, it may start to impress you and you may begin to consider which of the students (if it was a student) caked the white paint upon the brick to create these pint-sized pictographs.  Probably it was a student.  But there are others who inhabit this part of town for a moment or a day or a night.  It could have been one of them.  

I am fond of the princess (or bride).  I love the movement of the fox (wolf? dog?).  I think maybe the artist didn't think that his (her?) coil was obvious enough, so wrote out "snake" above.