Today was opening day for the new MAX Green Line. Since I had things to do and places to go, and just happened to be downtown near PSU, I decided to take the Green Line home. Allow me to share a bit of the adventure.
I wandered onto the milling crowd at SW 6th & Madison, thirty to forty people waiting. I figured if the train was too crowded I’d just walk a block and catch a bus. I was in no hurry; it seemed a perfect time to watch “normal” people at play. A lot of seniors and families with strollers, a few commuters. One clean-cut young fellow pointed out that three trains had gone south, but none had come back in our direction. It had been 35 minutes since the last train. The natives were getting restless. Two fellows who looked like mid-management at fast food franchises began arguing about Transit Tracker. When one guy said, “Don’t take that smartass tone with me!” I thought they were playing. I realized he wasn’t when he swung his backpack, almost clobbering the “smartass.” He stomped off mad. Hmm…
Eventually a train came, packed to the rafters. I could see another in the distance, I’d wait for it. It was a Yellow Line, which thinned the herd, but the one behind that one was a Green Line. The nice lady on the PA said so.
Next Stop, Pioneer Square:
I grabbed a window seat, mid-car. An older couple sat across the aisle from me, along with a lady nervous about everyone’s leg room. “Got enough? Got enough?” Actually no, I don’t. These trains were build for folks without shins.
I’ve heard a lot of good things about the new trains, but my trip was less than stellar. By the time we left Pioneer Square the car was full to standing room only. I’d been joined in my four-seat cubicle by a mom and her two kids. The son sat across from me. He looked about ten, nice kid, kinda reminded me of Chunk from The Goonies. He sipped his Juicy Juice, and when the bottle was empty he hid it up the pantleg of his shorts, leaving him looking like the Ron Jeremy of ten-year-olds. He took my uncontrolled grin for friendliness and began including me in his thoughts. He was mostly quiet, and it helped break the monotony of the MAX ride. After all, until we get past Gateway, it’s just another goddamn MAX ride.
Gateway and Beyond:
They should never have made the rides free. It may work out better for me, because everyone who got their first impression from this trip will be in no hurry to do it again. The ‘leg-room lady’ had bailed out stops ago, after having a claustrophobic fit. She also pulled a dog out of her purse, which struck me as odd. (It was not a tiny dog either. Benji sized.) Chunk and I daydreamed. I noticed the Portland Police officers patrolling the 82nd Avenue MAX stop. Chunk was fascinated with the cars speeding by on the freeway. “Look! There’s Grandma’s car!”
After leaving 82nd, the train pulled to a stop before Gateway. We were sitting still on the freeway. Man, I hope this doesn’t last forever. At least the brand new train cars have working A/C. Add two points. Seats? They look soft, but after about thirty minutes the phrase Iron Ass comes to mind. It won’t encourage folks to go for joy rides. Minus a point. The voices announcing the stops have been sexed up in a big way. Is that Antonio Banderas and Julie Grauert? Plus three points!
I can see getting reacquainted with Gateway and Clackamas Town Center. What took a stupid amount of time to go 40 blocks now just takes a few minutes. (Once the hubbub wears down.) I’d bet money it’ll be all the rage with the teenage crowd. This won’t be one of those quiet commuter lines.
My 39 minute ride had taked over an hour already, and I got off at Lents. One more mass fail on the new trains? They have an inch-high step into the aisles, and if you are expecting floor to be there, and it isn’t? AAAHHH! I started to tip, at the same precise moment the train lurched forward. I grabbed for the overhead bar for stability, but…it… wasn’t… there. WTF? I’d either have to ram my hand through a window or grab a young girl by the boob.
I managed to avoid doing both, but it wasn’t graceful. (You guys, we really need the overhead parallel stabilization bars.) My apologies to those I scared, and to those children who will no doubt be asking mom and dad later what those funny words meant.
After letting Hell Train get out of sight, I sized up the platform at Foster Road. Watching its growth from inception, it was nice to see the view from above. The bike trail has reopened, so I can now walk the no-cars path to Foster or Holgate. Until the homeless camps pop up, anyway.
My initial reaction? It’ll be okay, but I’ll probably stick to riding the bus. Most days it’s the only peace and quiet I get.
{ 2 comments }
Too bad your experience wasn’t pleasant. I was hoping to hear good things about the Green line.
I’m apologetic about your trip. Like others I was hoping for a good review from some where but so far….. I would like to invite you to a meeting that might interest you. FYI: you don’t have to ride green line to get here.
The meeting information is listed below:
Socialist Feminist Organizing Meeting
Learn more about the theory of Marxist Feminism, the recent successful National Radical Women fund drive and plans for upcoming activities. Meeting will be held Saturday, September 26, 1:00pm at the Bread & Roses Center, 819 N. Killingsworth St., Portland (on Tri-Met lines #4 and #72). A potluck, with a vegan option, will be available at 1:00pm. Feel free to bring something or make a donation. Call for childcare. For more information call 503-240-4462.
We do hope you will come and lend us your voice.
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