I have a little secret. At least, I think it’s a secret. At least, I’m pretty sure not everyone knows about it. My “secret” is that I’m an aviation buff. I love airplanes. I love reading about airplanes. I love looking at pictures of airplanes. I even still like riding in airplanes, despite all the changes of the last fifteen years or so that have made air travel less fun than it used to be.

In some ways, it’s very fortunate that I love airplanes, given that I live in Portland, and all of my family lives on the East Coast. And Portland might be seen as a better city to live in than most for someone who loves airplanes, because to get to the East Coast it’s almost mandatory to take TWO airplanes. Sometimes even three, if you get really lucky.

As I said, I love airplanes, so this isn’t such a bad deal. I’ve even been know to choose an itinerary with three flights instead of two, just for the novelty from time to time, or for the opportunity to fly on a certain type of plane, or through an airport I’ve never visited before.

That being said, my wife hates flying. She is prone to motion-sickness, and she had a pretty firm limit of two takeoffs and two landings in any given day. Beyond that, her stomach begins to feel it. And if we can do it in one, that would be way better.

But we live in Portland. Do you know how many non-stops there are from PDX to the East Coast? Well, here they are (I’m pretty sure this is right, given that I came up with this list with someone in the aviation industry last week):

That’s it. Six nonstop flights per day to the East Coast. Other than that? Not going to happen. You get to change planes in Chicago, Dallas-Fort Worth, Denver, San Francisco, L.A., or some other city. Which, of course, adds hours to the trip.

Why does this matter, you ask? Well, let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that you want to fly to Philadelphia for a meeting on a Monday morning, starting at 9AM. Further, let’s imagine that you have a commitment on Sunday which won’t let you get to the airport until 2PM. Do you know what lovely flights you wind up on?

The flight you wind up on is a 7PM to San Francisco. Which connects to a 10PM red eye, getting you in to Philly at 6AM and poorly slept the next morning. And frankly, my nearly 40 year old body doesn’t do that well with red eyes anymore.

So I ask you all, why? Why are we, one of the nation’s great cities, denied first rate airline service? Why are we treated as though we were some insignificant city, with a little used airport? And more to the point, does anyone have any thoughts on how we can change this?

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• September 13, 2009 -- PDX with Less “International”; Lufthansa Service Ends (2)
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• April 24, 2009 -- Blazer Fans Get Crafty (3)

I have a reputation of being somewhat critical. For example, I often see people on the highway who I think are driving like idiots. In response, I mutter to myself, call them names under my breath, and point them out to my kids as an example of how NOT to drive.

But today I was exposed to someone who is a genuine public danger: I was on I-5 northbound at around 1:00 pm, when I saw a car swerve into view in my rear view mirror, appearing there as if by magic. They quickly moved up to within 2-3 feet of my rear bumper. Mind you, this was at highway speeds.

I slowed down a bit to encourage them to stop tailgating, and after a few moments they abruptly swerved back into the left lane, where they again sat right on the bumper of the car in front of them.

Over the next minute or so, this driver abruptly changed lanes several times trying to move up through heavy traffic. These were violent lane changes that caused the car to heel over to one side, then rock back and forth on its suspension. The driver would always zoom up to within a couple of feet of the car ahead of them, and then they would dart through the next opening that was just barely big enough for their car to fit through. And this all happened at between 55-65 mph. I watched slack-jawed, absolutely convinced that I was going to see a fiery wreck happen right in front of me, but in a few minutes they had swerved through enough pockets in the traffic to zigzag their way up and out of sight.

Like I said, I often see bad drivers. But I rarely see drivers that I know should be off the road because of the danger they represent. For your own sakes, keep your eyes peeled for a dark red Isuzu SUV, Nevada license no. 363 UTP.

And in all seriousness, if you know this car and/or driver, you need to stage some kind of an intervention. Take away their keys, flatten their tires, or something. If they continue to drive the way they were driving today, they WILL kill themselves, or worse, someone else. It’s only a matter of time.

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TriMet’s MAX Green Line has been fully operational for two weeks now. I posted a few observations after the opening weekend, mostly critical. (Older folk are like that, with these confounded new-fangled gizmos…) I knew then that opening weekend would not be a true example of typical life on the Green Line, so I gave it a few more tries. It’s time to update my impressions.

Although I can think of reasons, I’ve had no call to use the Green Line for north/south travel. It will take much less time to get to Clackamas Town Center, or Mall 205, but I don’t have a lot of reasons to go there. I’m tempted to go to the movies at CTC, but the MAX stop is clear across the eastern parking lot, up by the freeway. Maybe it looks farther than it is, but if the weather is icy, or hotter than 85, I’m just not into trudging that far in both directions. If I feel like going to a mall, the one downtown is a crosswalk away from the MAX stop. (Bonus: Security guards at Pioneer Place discourage yelling from level to level, “WHERE YOU AT?”) I might be more tempted if it weren’t a fifteen block walk from home to get to the MAX in the first place.

Which brings my next gripe. It’s fifteen blocks to the MAX stop. The last few blocks are uphill, and by the time I huff and puff my way to the top I’m ready to sit for a second. Guess what? There is one bench, and it’s usually occupied by two teenagers smoking and drinking Arizona ice teas. Fortunately I know how to tell time, and haven’t been delayed by nonexistent trains. The schedule? I’ve heard that it’s supposed to take 39 minutes from PSU to CTC. But I’ve ridden the Green Line a dozen times or more now, and have yet to get from downtown to my stop in 39 minutes, let alone from end to end. Maybe if you count Rose Quarter as downtown…

The new trains have their drawbacks. I wrote previously about the 1-2 inch lip on the train floor, and the lack of overhead stabilizer bars. A co-worker had the same problem I did, with painful results. She lost her balance and fell, injuring her back. It’s affected her ability to work, and I wonder how many others have had this problem.

But enough bitching!

There are a lot of things I like about the new route. It has that new route smell, which means it’s mostly “normal” folk riding, at least when I’m on. I have traveled at all hours of the day and night, and have had no uncomfortable moments involving fellow passengers. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken one of the other MAX lines and not encountered some sort of belligerent idiocy. So far the Green Line has hauled commuters and quiet people, which makes it a joy to ride. My worst encounters? A lady way too amped up on coffee and cigarettes bitching breathlessly to an unknown entity about life in general. We MAX riders call that entertainment.

No assessment of the Green Line would be complete without the obligatory after-11 PM Saturday night ride. The last time I took a Blue Line on a Saturday night, 10-15 juveniles were occupying the back car, smoking cigars and drinking jugs of Carlo Rossi. It was a most uncomfortable ride. I braced for that kind of fun, but apparently the party train was headed a different direction. There was no shouting, no groups of unruly teens. (Or adults either for that matter.) It was the kind of after-work commute we all pray for.

It is kind of fun to be dumped off in the middle of the freeway in the middle of the night. The bike path is well lit, and the freeway underpass isn’t as spooky as it used to be. The walk home is downhill, which makes me re-assess how often I will take the train home.

I still miss having Saturday bus service near my house. Grocery shopping is a drag. But I have new frontiers to explore, and a straight shot to the PSU food carts.

Now if I can just get up early enough to take advantage of that…

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• May 13, 2009 -- No Rollerskating on the new bus mall (3)
• February 15, 2009 -- If you cut me… (5)
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• September 1, 2009 -- Irritation to the MAX (1)
• August 24, 2009 -- Sleek, Sexy… and Inconvenient (12)

Flickr member F18E777 captured this photo today of the final Portland-to-Frankfurt Lufthansa flight. As announced in July, Lufthansa is canceling its Portland service due to declining travel numbers. This leaves Northwest’s flight to Amsterdam as Portland’s only direct European connection.

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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.

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You would think they had never seen a train before.

I deboarded the bus on Main Street yesterday, and caught my first glimpse of the Yellow Line rolling down SW 6th. I stopped and took in the sight, a momentous occasion. It seemed like a ‘What’s wrong with this picture?’ test. Normal, yet odd.

I wasn’t the only one. As I walked, I saw others pulling up to take a moment, probably a half-dozen folks in the blocks between the bus stop and Pioneer Square. I was fetching a monthly bus pass, and many others were doing the same. I held the door for a few people, then realized they would all end up in line in front of me, so I moved in. It was my nice-guys-finish-last moment of the day: I was about fifteen deep waiting to get to the window.

Disclaimer: I love TriMet. It’s my ride. But dammit, it feels like the ride I praise so highly is trying to get me to start driving again.

I haven’t paid fare on a bus in ages. I do the all-zone monthly pass and make every effort to get my $86 worth. I try to buy well in advance to avoid the last minute rush, but that didn’t happen so I fell in with the procrastinators. Three windows were open, with two other windows in ‘be right back’ mode. (They were helping someone with lost and found, I think.) The others? Long, complicated stories about how they had changed their name and shouldn’t have gotten the ticket blah blah blah. Everyone seemed to have a complex issue. Couldn’t one window just sell tickets and passes?

Seriously, I’ve watched one well-meaning fellow spend ten minutes telling the nice lady behind the window about how the garbage can at the bus stop by his apartment was overflowing, and they should do something about it. Hers was the patience of Job. I’d have come out from behind the window and found a fresh garbage can to stuff him into.

Having secured the pass, I noticed the new schedules were out. Woohoo! I grabbed the usuals, including the MAX schedule. I can take the Green line in two weeks! Yeah, right. It stops running downtown before I get off work. Hey TriMet, not everyone is done working or drinking by 11:30 PM.

At least I can catch the Yellow line up to PSU, closer to my bus, right? Of course not. With a few exceptions, the Yellow line will be ending at the Rose Quarter early in the evening. One will have to transfer to the Green line, or one of the others that heads up Morrison. The Green line runs every half hour. Great.

Bus? Well, I live out in Southeast, and had pretty good bus service up ’til now. After the 12th of September, Saturday service near my house will stop. A grocery run will mean hauling stuff 9-12 blocks. That’s fun times. It’s a good thing I’ve embraced walking, I’ll be doing a lot of it. Work? Where the bus ends, I have to walk most of the way to work to get to the first MAX stop, so why bother? I’d catch it one stop, then have to backtrack. Sensible shoes are in order.

I won’t even start about how the half-hour waits at the MAX stop near my house will increase the appeal of a late-night walk. Maybe I can borrow the neighbor’s pitbull…

All this bitching isn’t getting us anywhere, but thanks for listening. I’m grateful to have a bus and MAX to get around on, but I’d be more grateful if they hadn’t carved service back to 1975 levels. We bought our house with the knowledge that construction would be eternal, but first-class transit was on its way. First class? Maybe, but I’d settle for second rate buses that get me a little closer to home. Since I’m stuck with buses, guess I’d better settle, huh? It added insult to injury when I noticed the bus stop by the Foster MAX was moved yet another long block away. Thirteen blocks to the bus now.

My driver’s license with the horrible picture is valid until 2013. Maybe it’s time to start watching the police auctions for a hooptie…

Related Posts

• December 7, 2009 -- Portland Police: The Problem is Perception (3)
• September 28, 2009 -- A Green Line Redux (2)
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• May 13, 2009 -- No Rollerskating on the new bus mall (3)

Soon, you can go there by train.

Where does the time go? Seems only years ago the MAX Green Line started tearing up the I-205 Freeway, remodeling the landscape, keeping traffic interesting. All that fun is coming to fruition. In just sixteen days the Green Line will begin carting folks from PSU to Clackamas Town Center.

Saturday, September 12 the locals will be throwing a welcome party, the Ramona Street Fair. There will be kiddie activities, food booths and an afternoon of live music. For more details, click here.

Does this make The New Copper Penny a destination spot?

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TriMet’s new light rail vehicles (purchased to build up the fleet for the upcoming Green Line service) have been described as “sleek” and “sexy.” As I started watching them in operation, noting that the new cars only have operator controls at one end, I realized there’s a snag in this plan.

Currently, when one car of a two-car train has problems, TriMet staff can decouple the cars, set one of the cars into a side track out of service, and continue service with the remaining car. With the new cars and only one direction for controls, I wondered what would happen given a malfunction with one of the cars. I posed the question to TriMet’s public relations person, Bekki Witt, and she confirmed:

I verified that the two-car consist would be taken out of service together, even if there was a problem with just one of the cars.

In related news: tonight as I got off the train at Gateway, there was a two-car set of the new vehicles in the side track, out of service.

Did style win over function?

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I’ve been called cranky more times this week than I have in my whole life. If I wanted to live in a goddamn desert, I would move to Vegas!

Now that we’ve established I’m tired of all the hot weather… How to cope?

I’m pretty good at suffering through the hot days of summer. I have fans, shade trees, work in A/C, etc… But since I’m of the low-income echelon of society, an air-conditioner seems a waste of money for the few days I’d actually need it. A/C costs TEN times the electricity of a fan. (Suddenly I feel better…) But others have A/C, and I’m not shy about using it.

75% of TriMet buses are air-conditioned. That’s three out of four. Thursday I decided to play those odds, squeeze the last few cents out of my bus pass and go for a bus ride. I had a plan, albeit a loosely defined one. An apartment building in Northwest Portland had burned, and I wanted to see which one it was. Back in the day, I lived in or knew folks who lived in most of the apartment buildings between 21st and 23rd. Had to see for myself.

I chose the #17 Holgate/NW 21st bus, in part because one of my favorite bus drivers is on that route. (Hi Teddy Ann!) I found a shady stop with views, watched a couple buses pass by with no Teddy Ann, and decided it was time to get back to the cool. Onto the bus, and off to Northwest Portland.

The #17 cruises down Holgate, crosses the Ross Island Bridge, passes through PSU, downtown and Old Town/Pearl before taking a right on 21st. I made mental notes of changes as we went. I saw the burnt building, it wasn’t the one I thought it was. The changes were small, but noticeable. Swagat has a new sign. Garbanzo’s has left the building, replaced by Laughing Planet. The sign says Swagat still has lunch buffet, where we once sat across from Matt Groening. A great bargain, always hopping.

Joe’s Cellar was busy. Guess the smoking ban hasn’t killed ‘em yet.

Wacky Willie’s is long gone. (Pout.) But there’s a Jack in the Box across the intersection now.

I was glad to see A-Boy plumbing & hardware reopening. It’s a necessity up in that neck of the woods.

Acapulco’s Gold was doing a big business in the early afternoon. It’s always a stop on my infrequent drinking days. Any place I can get a shot of tequila, a glass of beer and leave a dollar tip with five bucks, then walk right outside and catch any of 3-4 bus lines? It’s a booze-hound’s dream, and the clientele is always entertaining. No need for formal wear; flip-flops, never-nude denim cutoffs and Hawaiian shirts are the uniform of Acapulco’s. At least that’s how it used to be.

Montgomery Park is for lease. I’m guessing space inside is for lease, but in this economy one can not be sure. The sign didn’t specify. I once witnessed a taping of Geraldo! there. It’s the building Mr Burns is named after on The Simpsons.

Around the corner and down the hill. The view is a killer. You can see almost to Scappoose. The train yards and beer distribution warehouses eat up the land. It seemed quiet for a Thursday afternoon.

There were signs of life at one spot: Handy Food Mart!

I worked there until about five years ago. (Spent that September 11 working the counter. It was surreal, watching usually hardened men on the edge of tears.) It was a fun place to work. In the daytime, worker drones would flock to the store for made-in-store sandwiches and burgers. After work, the same folk would come in for their evening beers. It was a handy stop on the way to Highway 30, St Johns or other points west. HFM caters to the working man.

After dark, the old building across the parking lot turned into a music rehearsal space. A lot of up and coming indy bands practiced there, and kids I sold PBR to are now popping up in the weekly alternative newspapers and on light poles in the Hawthorne district. A little group called Everclear used to rehearse there, or so the gossip goes. That was before my time.

I’d love catching the bus home late at night. A part of the city that was actually quiet, and you could see the stars. The planet Mars was my friend for a month or so a few years back, its rusty red glow looking down. It wasn’t uncommon to cross paths with raccoons or the occasional coyote. They didn’t want anything to do with me either.

I poked my head into the blissfully air-conditioned store and said hi to Gayle, who keeps the store functional in the daytime. She makes the sandwiches and runs the till, while keeping the drooling worker-types at arm’s length. We caught up on the dirt. Times haven’t been easy. Most of the neighborhood jobs have dried up, and now the formerly 24-hour store closes at 2:30 AM. It opens for breakfast during the weekdays.

Oh, and bring cash. They don’t do plastic, and the ATM is at Montgomery Park. FYI.

After cooling off, (and saying HELL-LO to a bunch of glad-to-see-me former regulars) it was time to reboard the air-conditioned bus back to the ant farm. I took a slow, ice water-fueled mosey to the top of Montgomery Park and caught a window seat on a #15 23rd Ave/Belmont bus. Time to check out what else has closed, and what has survived. In all, a great way to beat the heat on a 100-degree day.

And a hell of a lot cheaper than paying for my own A/C!

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It has been a Very Busy Summer for yours truly. Most days, the whiteboard on the refrigerator that tracks our household schedule is jam-packed full of planned activities: Summer camps for the girl, lists of chores for the teen, and plenty of, um, fun work stuff for me (including more than a few 6 am conference calls from home, ugh.)

Life has also dealt us a few unscheduled sideswipes — some good, some not so wonderful — so we’ve also had to roll with the punches.

But, while I knew this week’s calendar was still fairly packed (three evening events in a row, for example), I also knew there was a shining beacon of healing light hurtling towards me at 50mph: My kids were leaving for a 12-day camping trip with their father. Kid-free for 12. Whole. Days? Cue the celestial chorus, someone!

(This is where I insert the standard disclaimer. Yes, I adore my children. No, I do not wish them permanently removed from my presence, nor do I lament and/or regret their existence. Really. Yes, that includes the snarky 16 year old. I just need a @5@!$*)@* break already, is all…)

So it was with completely dry eyes that I wished them goodbye at 8 am this morning. Headed back into my house for two more hours of blissful, work-from-home peace.

And then promptly celebrated my completely untethered state by barreling out the door, arms full, rushing to get to that oh-so-important mid-day appointment…and realizing seconds after the door shut firmly behind me that — oh CRAP — the keys were still inside.

The backup set of keys? Probably an hour or so outside of Bend by now. The third and fourth sets? Ditto. So I took a deep breath. Put all of my stuff down — laptop bag, purse, gallon jar of sun tea that just had to go outside right then — and made a few phone calls. Canceled that oh-so-important appointment. Arranged to pick up final set of spare keys later in the day. And jumped on the bus to head to work as I’d planned to after the appointment. Why not? I had cash, computer, and my phone, after all; was a block away from a bus line; and knew my way around, mass-transit-wise (I’d commuted/walked for close to two years before getting my car two years ago.)

By the time I got to work (exactly when I’d originally promised I’d be there, no less), I realized that I was calm. I wasn’t stressed, nor did I feel rushed. Had gotten some fresh air & some sunshine. And I’d still managed to stay in touch with the office, thanks to my iPhone IM/email access.

I also had time to come up with a goal: to give myself the gift of forced unscheduled time while my kids are away. How will I do that? By taking mass transit and/or walking as much as I can over the next 12 days, for starters.

Tonight, I finally got home at 9 pm, after a ramble that took me downtown via fareless square bus, walks to two different destinations, MAX to Lloyd Center, and a slow meandering walk home from there.

But if I’m going to do this more often, I need to think this through a bit more:

• While I divested myself of all the non-essential stuff out of the laptop bag once I got to work, the bag itself, while stylish, isn’t transit-friendly. Need to dig out older backpack I used 2 years ago.
• Note to self: Save all of your change for the bus.
• The bus routes/stops downtown have CHANGED. (Number 14, I’m talking about YOU.) Learn them, please.
• Recommendations for best TriMet iPhone app, anyone? Am betting I’ll need it…
• Culture refresh: watch fellow author A.L.’s Ignite presentation — who knows, I might meet Mr. Wonderful while I’m riding the bus. (Probably not, but…)
• Finally, one should NEVER walk more than a few blocks in flip-flops. Even ones with padding/arch support. (In related news: my feet really, really hurt right now. Where’s the Aleve? I sent it with the kids? ARGH!)

What else do I need to learn/remember? What else would you suggest to help me slip slowly into first gear?

Related Posts

• July 14, 2008 -- Alleviate my Awkwardness: TriMet Signaling Advice! (3)
• October 8, 2009 -- PDX in Your Pictures: Silver Dude on the Bus (1)
• May 13, 2009 -- No Rollerskating on the new bus mall (3)
• March 5, 2009 -- Portland Police citing for jaywalking downtown (1)
• November 2, 2008 -- Public feedback halts TriMet #6, #70 route changes (1)