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.