In the wake of an ambitious ballot measure’s defeat, better mobility can help Nashville find its identity

Nashville's Union Station hasn't seen any passenger rail service since 1979. (Photo by me)

On May 1, 2018, the people of Nashville, TN decided the transportation options I prefer weren’t for them. Yes, propaganda from Koch-funded groups like Americans for Prosperity may have influenced some perspectives, and ex-Mayor Megan Barry’s demise certainly didn’t boost the cause. But in the end, it was the region’s residents who took time out of their day to head to the polls and send a message that I interpreted as a powerful rejection of my way of life.

However, I ignored that message, traveling to the Music City for a weekend trip earlier this month.

My Southwest Airlines plane flew over a lot of large parking lots during its descent into Nashville International Airport. (Photo by me) 

As my flight from DC descended into town, providing panoramic views of strip malls and parking lots as it outran the Green New Deal’s End of Air Travel, my expectations were low. Though I was excited to see my relatives who I was to meet there, I figured I was in for yet another car-based family trip. I was also still mad that the city had been granted an MLS expansion franchise at the expense of Sacramento Republic FC, which won the United Soccer League title in its debut season.

And as for the city’s music, my prior exposure to the country genre was mostly limited to the modern-day ballads that worship guns, pickup trucks, Bud Light, and women in tight jeans.

Thanks to my previous transportation experiences in the South, which include a three-hour Amtrak delay in Anniston, AL and a lot of long walks across the cavernous transit gaps of Charleston, SC, I was not surprised when, upon landing just before 10pm, I learned the next Route 18 bus from the airport to the city center would not arrive for another 50 minutes.

Nashville International Airport's bus stop. (Photo by me)

The bus arrived 12 minutes behind schedule and traveled via an interstate to Music City Central Station, a short walk from the hotel bar where my father, cousin, and her fiancé awaited. After a shot of whiskey at the bar, it was time to go explore the city that had broken so many urbanist American hearts.

Over the next three days, I would learn that the ill-fated transit referendum was just one small piece of a sophisticated city’s effort to reclaim its identity.

   

Ride-hailing vehicles and taxis congest Nashville's Lower Broadway. (Photo by me)

We got our first glimpse of the opposing forces straining Nashville that first night on Lower Broadway, a nightlife corridor with ride hailing-created congestion that dwarfs even DC’s notorious U Street or Connecticut Avenue.

Our first stop – Robert’s Western World – showed off the best of Nashville’s vibrant culture, as a crowd of people from all walks of life chatted, drank, and danced to an eclectic, high-quality array of live music. But our second destination – Honky Tonk Central – aimed solely to be trendy. It’s possible that we just caught it on a bad night, but during the one beer we endured there, a homogenous crowd of twenty-somethings robotically moved to off-key renditions of formulaic songs whose titles begin with “Sweet.”

A rendering of a proposed development project in Nashville. (Photo by me)

The morning light the next day revealed the full scope of the city’s identity crisis.

Though the defeated transit expansion plan had strong upsides, some questioned its emphasis on city-center economic development. But even without transportation infrastructure improvements to support them, the economic development projects seem to be proceeding unabated. Brand-new apartment and condo towers surround the downtown area and countless more city blocks sit razed, presumably awaiting similar construction.

A sign notifies the public of an upcoming hearing on parking requirements. (Photo by me)

These new projects have positive aspects. For example, on our way to see the city’s Parthenon (a full-scale replica of the one in Athens, minus the metro station), we walked past a sign at one proposed condo site informing the public of an upcoming hearing on the developer’s request to reduce the site’s minimum parking requirements.

But overall, it seemed that buildings are just being plopped down at random, without a grander vision to integrate them into well-connected, mixed-use neighborhoods. Though many pre-existing structures could, with the right improvements, effectively mix traditional aesthetics with modern culture – much as aforementioned Robert’s did – they’re instead being torn down blindly.

Nashville's Music City Central Station. (Photo by me)

Nashville does have a deeper character, but to find it, we had to look beyond the city center’s glitz. For example, the Gulch neighborhood, otherwise a largely stale mesh of concrete, glass, and asphalt sandwiched between three interstates just southwest of downtown, contains the Station Inn, a legendary, but intimate music venue with acts guaranteed to impress on any given night. 

A closed sidewalk in Nashville. (Photo by me)

Venturing farther outside the urban core, we found predictably bike- and pedestrian-hostile streets, but also a variety of unique restaurants, stores, bars, and breweries.

In finding our way to, from, and between these destinations, we strongly felt the forces behind the city’s identity crisis.

Nashville’s transportation infrastructure – a network of highways and wide arterials that feed into large parking lots – is designed primarily for personal auto use. Ride-hailing companies have piggybacked on this infrastructure, of course.

When my dad and I boarded Route 4 at the Vinyl Tap record store and bar, we were the only riders on the bus. A few other passengers got on as we progressed toward the city center. (Photo by me)

Bus routes do utilize the highways and arterials, comprising a hub-and-spoke system that operates at limited frequencies and converges at the aforementioned Music City Central Station. Since we were staying close to the downtown transit center, buses effectively served most of our mobility needs for the weekend. But most people seemed to have little idea the bus system was there.

A bus stop bench near Wilburn Street Tavern mocks the annoyances of driving. (Photo by me)

The city seems to want something more than this status quo. Bus stop benches even featured tounge-in-cheek messages intended to entice drivers to try transit, such as “parking schmarking” and “driving is boooring.” But – as with the ongoing downtown-area redevelopment – the focus seems to be primarily on plopping new things down, without considering how they can enhance what’s already there and effectively fit into peoples’ lives.

A drive-thru liquor store and a cyclist forced onto the sidewalk by a lack of adequate infrastructure comprise a fitting background for the BRT Lite station across the street from Smith & Lentz Brewing Company. (Photo by me)

For example, one bus route we rode (Route 56), advertised as “BRT Lite,” featured modestly upgraded stations. But the stops required challenging street crossings to access, and the route lacked the short headways and dedicated lanes needed to support the top-notch service riders deserve from a product sold as Bus Rapid Transit.

Scooters in Nashville's city center. (Photo by me)

Shared e-scooters dotted the streets, but as with the BRT Lite line, the city hadn’t invested in the dedicated infrastructure needed to safely and efficiently accommodate them. 

Due to its poor placement, this Nashville B-Cycle station obstructs bus riders. (Photo by me)

The dock-based bikeshare system, Nashville B-Cycle, seemed even more haphazardly deployed. For example, one of the system’s stations in the Gulch stood right in a bus stop, obstructing us from getting off our Route 17 bus rather than serving as the effective first and last mile connection it presumably was intended to.

Nashville's Union Station, a relic of a better transportation past, contrasts with the auto-dependent environment in the foreground. (Photo by me)

The city’s approach to longer-distance mobility also focuses too much on appearances at the expense of substance. Nashville Union Station has been magnificently restored – as a Marriott hotel. Meanwhile, the city has remained without intercity rail service since the Jimmy Carter administration cut Amtrak’s Chicago-Miami/St. Petersburg Floridian in 1979.

Intercity bus service hasn’t stepped in to fill the gap. For example, my dad traveled on to Asheville, NC from Nashville, but was forced to rent a car for the trip because the sole bus option connecting the two locations, operated by Greyhound, departed at 1:30am and required a transfer.

Nashville's Route 56 bus, advertised as Bus Rapid Transit, takes on riders at Music City Central Station. (Photo by me)

The rejected ballot measure would not have solved all of Nashville’s urban planning challenges. For example, the new rail and BRT lines would have converged in the city center, as the existing transit system does, while the spoke-based activity hubs we enjoyed would have remained relatively unconnected to each other.

Despite this, the proposed infrastructure improvements would have brought Nashville some of the substance it needs to reclaim the identity it currently can’t find. The resulting connectivity would have allowed the city to develop in a more natural manner, bringing old and new together.

Musical notation on the bus shelter in front of Nashville Municipal Auditorium. (Photo by me)

Fortunately, though transit planners can put referenda before voters as many times as they want, they only have to win once to make those plans reality. It’s inevitable that one day, Nashville will obtain the funding it needs to bolster its transit system. 

Until then, however, it will be experiences like the one we had at Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack that continue to define Nashville’s mobility and culture. Situated in an outlying strip mall, it was one of the few places we visited during the trip that we got to via ride-hailing instead of by bus. However, dark windows greeted us when we arrived, and we soon learned that recent damage to the structure had necessitated a long-term closure.

The cause of the damage: a car that had crashed into the building several weeks earlier.

Gavin Newsom will take a segment-based approach to high-speed rail construction. To succeed, these segments must be effectively integrated into California’s existing intercity transit system.

California's under-construction high-speed rail line parallels existing conventional lines in the Central Valley. (Photo courtesy of the Sacramento Bee)

Gavin Newsom, then the Lieutenant Governor of California, announced in early 2014 that he opposed the state’s high speed rail project. At the time, criticizing the rail line was a trendy thing for state politicians to do because a group of opponents from Kings County, led by agricultural kingpin John Tos, had just scored a big win in court that seemed to put the project’s future in doubt.

But since then, large-scale construction has begun. Tos and Company have racked up a lengthy legal losing streak, their beginners’ luck long gone. Heritage Foundation Distinguished Fellow Elaine Chao even capitulated, releasing federal funds for the ongoing electrification of Caltrain that will allow high-speed trains to serve San Francisco.

A native of San Francisco – part of a metro area home to countless trendy transportation companies including Uber, Lyft, Tesla, Lime, and Skip – Newsom knew to go with the flow, flip-flopping to establish himself as a supporter of the project during his successful gubernatorial campaign last year.

Newsom used this week’s State of the State address to establish himself as the project’s new leader. But his plan to take a more segmented approach than his predecessors – focusing on completing the under-construction Central Valley section between Merced and Bakersfield while holding off on extensions to San Francisco and Los Angeles until sufficient funding is obtained (though environmental reviews for those sections will continue) – did not come across articulately. His prior opposition to the rail line didn’t help clarify his message.

To set things straight, the Newsom administration should develop a plan to ensure that, upon its opening, the initial high-speed rail segment is effectively integrated with California’s existing statewide train system.

Other countries have built high-speed rail systems in segments, but have maximized those segments’ utility through effective integration with pre-existing conventional rail systems

A TGV train on France's LGV Rhin-Rhone, near Belford-Montbeliard. Trains that traverse this line typically continue onto conventional lines to reach their destinations. (Photo courtesy of Departement du Territoire de Belfort)

Until this week, the state’s plan had been to first build out and operate high-speed trains on the San Francisco-Bakersfield section of the line. Later extensions would then complete the core Phase 1 route to Los Angeles and, eventually, Phase 2 branches to Sacramento and San Diego.

In some respects, Newsom’s decision to truncate the northern end of the initial operating segment to Merced brings California’s high-speed rail construction more into line with buildouts of comparable routes overseas. 

For example, France’s 87-mile LGV Rhin-Rhone between Lyon and Strasbourg, which trains traverse at around 200 mph, has only two stations, which serve mid-size cities that resemble those on California’s Central Valley segment: Besancon (metro area population: 250,000) and Belfort-Montbeliard (combined population: 300,000). Also, Eurostar trains used conventional tracks in Britain for the first thirteen years of their existence and still must reduce their speed through the Channel Tunnel, which is shared with slower auto and freight trains.   

Lines like these have been built out in a manner that effectively integrated their earliest segments into the larger rail network. Pre-existing electrification of the conventional passenger rail lines those segments connect to has given them a boost, as trains can seamlessly switch between regular- and high-speed tracks to provide through service. For example, I took a TGV train from Lyon to Frankfurt and back last year that used the entire LGV Rhin-Rhone, a portion of the 190 mph LGV Sud-Est (which connects Paris and Lyon), and conventional tracks in France. Then, once in Germany, the train reached upgraded tracks and sped back up to over 150 mph to complete its trip.

As new high-speed segments open, travel times steadily shorten, though it’s still possible for some trains to deviate via conventional lines, serving communities that lack direct high-speed connections or allowing for track maintenance.

To eliminate uncertainty, Newsom’s administration should unveil a step-by-step plan to integrate high-speed segments into the state’s existing rail network

Hanford, CA's Amtrak station, as seen from a San Joaquins train. (Photo courtesy of Seat 38A)

Newsom framed his approach to the under-construction high speed rail segment as an economic development project for the Central Valley. And it’s true that connectivity to long-neglected locales like Fresno, Hanford, and Bakersfield is one of the project’s strongest upsides.

But the governor failed to elaborate on the initial operating segment’s greater role in Californian mobility. As a result, CityLab writer Laura Bliss saw disheartening similarities between the Merced-Bakersfield line and the short-line, mixed-traffic urban streetcars that, while intended to stimulate economic development, provide a transportation product of questionable quality. And transit opponents, who have long tried to convince people that the high-speed rail project is a “train to nowhere” that will never extend beyond the Central Valley, celebrated what they hoped was the truncation that would imprison intrastate travelers on I-5 forever. 

Fortunately, Newsom has one of America’s strongest intercity rail networks to work with as he moves forward with his plan. California’s three main Amtrak corridors all rank among the national system’s seven most heavily ridden routes. One of these lines, the Oakland/Sacramento-Bakersfield San Joaquins, serves many of the same communities the high-speed route will. In addition, the once-a-day Coast Starlight train – still the only one-seat rail option between the Bay Area and Los Angeles – draws more riders than any other long-distance line in the country.

To integrate the initial high-speed line into this extensive system, the state must overcome substantial challenges that the above-mentioned overseas routes did not face. Specifically, none of California’s existing intercity rail system is electrified, and no passenger trains operate between Bakersfield and LA.

Connecting to Northern California

A diesel engine pulls a TGV train on a non-electrified section of tracks in France in 2003. (Photo courtesy of Au fil des rails)

Unless the rail lines that connect Merced to the Bay Area and Sacramento are electrified soon – an unlikely prospect – the state will have to find a way to integrate high-speed trains with those lines’ existing diesel-powered passenger service.

Currently, only San Joaquins trains stop in Merced, but planned Altamont Corridor Express (ACE) extensions will bring additional service to the city in the near future. There are three main ways the initial high-speed segment can enhance these routes and bring meaningful improvements to riders:

• Timed transfers between conventional and high-speed trains: Passengers would have to change trains in Merced, but scheduled layover times would be minimal. This would allow the two distinct types of rail service to operate using separate technologies and specifications that best fit their purposes. It also could facilitate shorter headways, because the San Joaquins could dedicate a larger share of its equipment to the northern portion of its route. However, the conventional trains would still be subject to the same restricted speeds and freight congestion that San Joaquins and ACE trains face today, making it challenging to maintain reliable timed transfers to high-speed trains and potentially suppressing ridership.
• Through trains that switch between diesel and electric power: Passengers would enjoy a one-seat ride, and their train would swap locomotives at Merced. Numerous rail routes around the world, including Amtrak trains traveling from the Northeast to Virginia and points south, operate in this manner. However, time spent stopped during the swap could be lengthy – Amtrak’s scheduled dwell times for its locomotive swaps in Washington, DC range from 20 to 50 minutes, for example, and power to the passenger cars (including air conditioning) turns off during the procedure.  Other countries have found ways to resolve this issue, such as simply tacking a diesel locomotive onto the front of the electric one rather than swapping the two engines.
• Diesel operation on the full line: Passengers would enjoy a one-seat ride on conventional diesel equipment traversing the full Northern California-Bakersfield route. On the high-speed segment, it’s not likely that such trains would be able to reach maximum track speed, but they would still travel much faster than the 79 mph speed limit of the Burlington Northern Santa Fe tracks they traverse today. Caltrans recently ordered new diesel-powered trainsets for the state’s Amtrak routes (scheduled to begin service in 2020) that are capable of 125 mph, matching the top speed of the East Coast’s Northeast Regional (the U.S.'s most heavily used intercity train). However, even though 220 mph electric trains would ply the line following further extensions, the initially reduced operating speeds would cause opponents to complain of a “bait-and-switch” and put California at risk of missing out on its fleeting opportunity to be the first U.S. state with true high-speed rail service.

Connecting to Southern California

Today, Central Valley rail passengers continuing on to Southern California destinations must transfer to buses in Bakersfield. (Photo courtesy of The SubwayNut)

Providing effective connectivity between the initial segment’s Bakersfield terminus and LA will prove more challenging than in Northern California. As mentioned earlier, no regularly scheduled trains continue south from Bakersfield, forcing passengers to transfer to buses susceptible to severe traffic congestion-caused delays to reach their destinations. Union Pacific won’t likely permit passenger service on its existing tracks in the near future, and even if they do, the projected 7-hour Bakersfield-LA travel time via those tracks would repel many would-be riders.

Newsom’s administration can help boost the quality of the existing bus service by pushing for dedicated lanes and better cooperation between the multiple providers (such as Amtrak and Greyhound) who help fill the Bakersfield-Southern California transportation gap. Currently, California state law prohibits riders from booking Amtrak trips involving only Thruway buses, limiting riders’ options and flexibility. Thus, the governor should work with legislators to change this and ensure the bus and rail systems complement – rather than compete against – each other.

But given the pressing nature of this gap, Newsom should plan to prioritize a south-of-Bakersfield extension for his state’s second high speed rail segment. This segment would connect to Lancaster and Metrolink’s Antelope Valley Line to LA, which could be integrated with high-speed rail in a manner similar to the proposals for Northern California described above. Furthermore, a long-discussed high-speed line that will initially connect Victorville, CA to Las Vegas now seems closer to reality than ever after Brightline, which already operates a rail line in Florida, took over that project; extending the second segment of California’s line farther to the east would allow for a direct connection between these two routes.

.

Completing this segment, which will traverse the mountainous Tehachapi Pass, would put the most expensive and challenging-to-build high-speed segment behind us and erase any lingering doubt that the state can finish the full San Francisco-LA route.

*** 

California's primary recent contribution to our mobility has been a series of venture capital-funded products, like ride-hailing and shared e-scooters. While these options can be a useful component of a transportation system, they have not helped my home state alleviate its crippling traffic congestion or lower its skyrocketing housing prices.

To make it easier for people to get where they need to go and improve quality of life, California must develop a network of modern transportation infrastructure. The state's cities are doing this at the local level, passing ballot measures to improve and expand their transit systems. At the statewide level, fast, reliable, and efficient intercity trains are needed to connect those local systems to each other.       

China, Russia, and even Saudi Arabia all have proven capable of completing full-length high-speed rail lines. By ensuring each new project segment bolsters California's already-extensive passenger rail system, Governor Newsom can help his state – which would already be the world's fifth largest economy if it were its own country – keep pace. 

Behind every no-show bus, there’s a story. This is one of those stories.

Metrobus Route 70 runs from Downtown DC to Silver Spring. (Photo courtesy of Caitsith810, via YouTube)

Following my routine Sunday afternoon hike through Rock Creek Park to Silver Spring’s Denizens Brewing, I decided to head down to Timber Pizza (in Petworth) for dinner. My choice of transportation – Metrobus Route 70 – was a second-nature decision. The direct bus route stops within a couple blocks of both the brewery and pizzeria, and is scheduled to operate every 15 minutes even on Sunday evenings – reasonable service, by DC-area standards.

While at Denizens, I pulled up the Transit app so I could synchronize my departure with an arriving bus. I noticed that there was a 30-minute gap in service on this every-15-minute route, which isn’t too uncommon here in the nation’s capital. I took it in stride, and perfectly timed the next bus a half hour later.

The bus was quite full, which at this off-peak hour was a sign that the prior bus indeed hadn’t shown up. But I was able to find an empty seat and settled in for the ride.

We made it a few blocks, then pulled into a stop – and remained stopped.

I soon noticed some commotion near the front of the bus, which didn’t seem too alarming at first. I figured one of the usual culprits – a driver change, a dispute about the fare, a lost soul endlessly asking the bus driver whether or not this is their bus – was at fault, and the delay would be brief.

But several minutes passed, the commotion died down, yet we were still stationary.  At this point, I realized this wasn’t an ordinary hiccup and walked up to the front of the bus to figure out what the issue was.

I learned that we were stopped because a legally blind passenger, while attempting to exit the bus, had stumbled into the row of seats across from her. She needed to cross Georgia Avenue, the pedestrian-hostile street Route 70 runs on, to get home.

Since this would have been incredibly dangerous for her, the bus driver had called in a supervisor who could provide her a car ride home. He informed me that the next 70 bus was coming in 12 minutes, implying that the bus we were on wouldn’t be going anywhere soon.

An out-of-service Metrobus. (Photo courtesy of Oren's Transit Page)

I quickly processed the situation. While the purpose of my trip was purely recreational, it’s likely that other riders had more time-sensitive needs, and that some of those riders had already endured a lengthy delay (given that all evidence suggested the bus immediately before ours had also been cancelled).

Thus, I offered to personally assist the blind passenger home, which would have ensured that she reached her destination safely and released the bus to transport other riders to where they needed to go.

The passenger simply sat quietly. But the driver and others near the front of the bus didn’t seem interested in my proposal, telling me that the situation had been addressed to their satisfaction.

At this point, I probably should have resigned myself to the tribulations of American transit.

But I couldn’t get past my desire for a better transportation product. Every time I see transit fail, I feel like a knife is in my chest. I couldn’t stop thinking about passengers down the line, waiting alone in the dark for nearly an hour without any explanation. Having read article after article about riders abandoning transit for various car-based options, I shuddered to think how many people, egged on by a gleeful Unsuck DC Metro, would give up on our bus system for good due to this latest meltdown.

So, I plead my case, clarifying that my intent was to help the blind passenger, as well as everyone else on the bus. In return, I got yelled at. I tried to explain that reliability issues affecting American transit systems are causing people to defect to options like ride hailing, endangering the very concept of mobility for all, but in response, a rider screamed “well then, take Uber!”

An Uber car blocks a bike lane in Portland. (Photo courtesy of Bike Portland)

At this point, the blind passenger spoke up, asking for us to calm down and avoid any further conflict. 

While all this was going on, another issue had arisen toward the rear of the bus, a few rows from where I had originally sat. Apparently, a rider had thrown up. The driver inspected the vomit situation and promptly informed the remaining passengers that, because a single row of seats wasn’t usable, the bus had to been taken out of service entirely (though we could still wait on board until the next bus showed up).

The next bus and the supervisor assigned to drive the blind passenger home arrived at the same time, about 10 minutes later. I checked to make sure the supervisor didn’t require any assistance, then followed everyone else to the other bus.

With three buses’ passengers now squeezed onto one, quarters were cramped, and I was in close proximity to the man who’d shouted at me earlier. At some point (it may have been before we switched buses, but I’m not sure as my mind was racing at this point), I asked him exactly what I had done wrong.

He felt that I’d crossed a line by tying our bus’s situation to broader issues affecting DC-area transit. I acknowledged his views and agreed with him that WMATA had done a great thing by looking out for the blind rider's safety, but before we could discuss the situation further, he became furious that I’d opened my mouth at all and cut off all conversation.

On the second bus, I was able to chat a bit more with other passengers who had witnessed what happened, bonding with people from different walks of life as only transit makes possible. Soon enough, we made it to my stop, I shook hands with the fellow riders I’d spoken with, and then, at long last, hopped off.

Before walking over to the pizzeria, I stopped and stared off into an alley, planning to spend a few minutes reflecting on what had happened.

But within seconds, a ride-hailing vehicle pulled up and parked in the bike lane next to me, awaiting a passenger.

At this point, I cracked under the pressure. I’m never exactly thrilled to see obstructed bike lanes, but in this case, with what felt like a city’s transportation future in the balance, I teared up for the first time in a long time. At least 10 minutes passed before I pulled myself together. 

     

A Milwaukee bus driver helps a blind passenger cross a street in a construction zone. (Photo courtesy of KRDO)

I’ve experienced plenty of unusual delays on transit. For example, on Christmas Eve a few years ago, a passenger on a Chicago-area Metra commuter rail train, carrying bags full of merchandise from Crate & Barrel, refused to pay the at-the-time $3 surcharge (it’s now $5) required to purchase a ticket on board (rather than at a station). He also refused to exit the train, so we had to wait 20 minutes for the Morton Grove cops to show up and take him off in handcuffs. And on a morning commute in San Diego, I saw a standing bus rider fall to the floor when we started moving at a green light. The rider, who’d neglected to hold on to the handrail, was unhurt, but after he got up he demanded to fill out a complaint card on the spot, writing a lengthy essay before we could progress another inch.

None of those experiences affected me as deeply as this one did, however.

Perhaps two-and-a-half years of tolerating DC’s transit negativity have gotten to my head, giving me a sense of desperation and a no-room-for-error mentality. Maybe I’d seen one too many service cuts, which seem to have become the infuriatingly universal “solution” to all challenges – including aging infrastructure, fluctuations in ridership, and, as I saw, the mere presence of a passenger who requires assistance – that transit systems in the nation’s capital can face.

Or I may have become fed up with our region’s lack of basic amenities for handicapped riders, such as stops with benches and level boarding, as well as safe, complete streets.

But as my Sunday evening ride on the 70 has replayed over and over in my head in the days since, I’ve come to believe that what I saw was a simple, but sobering reminder of the daunting obstacles mobility-impaired individuals in our country are confronted with every day. Unless – or until – our lives take a turn that puts us in their situation, we can’t fully understand.  

I've experienced the consequences of negativity before. We can't let those consequences affect our mobility.

A New York Subway train pulls into 161st Street-Yankee Stadium station. (Photo courtesy of NYCgo.com)

I’ve written before about the negativity that surrounds discussion of U.S. transit and is especially problematic in Washington, DC. My sentiment about excessive complaining dates back to when I was a freshman in high school.

That year, our baseball team entered the season with big expectations. It had only been two years since our school had reincarnated its baseball program, and the team had won just one game during that time. But I was among a promising crop of young players who hoped to help make the Sacramento Country Day Cavaliers a contender.

We won our first scrimmage impressively. But then, the rain started pouring on us – literally.

It rained almost every day during March 2006, one of those months when California experienced floods instead of wildfires. In the small-school Central Valley Christian League, infield tarps and grounds crews weren’t a thing, so we experienced rainout after rainout, even during respites in the weather.

Thus, we practiced, day in and day out. We didn’t have a baseball field on our campus (we played our “home” games at a public park that the city perpetually deemed “unplayable” during the rainy season), so we got the most we could out of a patch of grass behind our gym.

Finally, the weather cooperated for a couple days, and game day arrived…on the road against Woodland Christian, a local power at the time. We held our own for a while, but couldn’t overcome our inexperience. The Cardinals’ pitchers shut us down, and after a couple times through the lineup their batters figured out my change-up. They pulled away in the late innings, and the final score was 10-0.

Despite the loss, our young team showed plenty of potential that afternoon in the shadows of Yolobus headquarters. Though some of our players had never taken part in a competitive baseball game before, we hadn’t humiliated ourselves and were able to compete toe-to-toe for several innings with a team that, despite its town’s lack of passenger rail service, would go on to win our league.

But instead of using those positive achievements as an inspirational foundation to build on, our coach dwelled only on what we had done wrong in his postgame speech. He ranted about how horribly we’d played, implying that we hadn’t given any effort. We spent the entirety of our next practice – held during yet another heavy rainstorm – running around and around our patch of grass. This was not a planned workout session designed to build our strength and improve our ability, nor a test of some new mode of active, shared micromobility, but instead a form of meaningless punishment.

Our demoralized team never recovered. We had some flashes of glory – including, during my junior season, two no-hitters in the same week – but from that fateful 2006 day on our dugout was a place of pessimism and negativity, rather than one of enthusiasm and hard work. We later found funding to construct an on-campus practice infield and moved from the CVCL to the Sacramento Metropolitan Athletic League, but were unable to shed our mediocrity. We entered the final day of my senior season with a shot at a .500 finish, but failed to get the job done, sealing a fourth straight losing year.  

Studies have linked ride hailing to worsening congestion in cities, and such congestion can delay buses. (Photo courtesy of CityLab)

Transit in the U.S. today has a lot in common with the 2006 Country Day Cavs.

Over the past half-century, preferable transportation options have been little more than an afterthought to most Americans, neglected in a culture where mobility was synonymous with cars and nothing more. But today, a new generation is yearning for more convenient, sustainable, and affordable ways to get around, creating hope that options like transit and cycling will develop into mainstream transportation modes.

However, the past couple of years have demonstrated that plenty of challenges must be overcome for this to happen. These challenges – including the impacts of venture capital-funded, car-based competitors; endless fighting for street space; infrastructure hostile to people who aren’t in cars; strict zoning laws; and constrained government budgets – have put us in an uphill battle comparable to the one our baseball team faced in Woodland, testing how we handle adversity.

So far, much of the transportation community has given into the inevitable temptation to dwell on the negatives, much as my coach did.

Discussion often focuses on the uniquely American phenomenon of short-term declines in ridership and how traditional transit doesn’t stand a chance against [insert trendy buzzword].

For example, a recent headline in CityLab – a publication with a perspective generally favorable to transit – essentially declared Los Angeles’s Measure M, which was passed two years ago and is funding dozens of ongoing and proposed projects benefitting rail, buses, bikes, and roads, a failure. The article had a couple decent points, such as the fact that supporters of American transit projects focus too much on reducing traffic congestion, and not enough on how the projects will improve the overall transportation system.

But its overall message – that transit can only succeed if we intentionally go out of our way to make driving “harder” – is unnecessarily defeatist. As demonstrated by robust bus service in low-density Canadian communities and recent ridership increases in car-loving American places like Houston, it is also incorrect.

Furthermore, Washington, DC-area news sources have published multiple articles recently regarding the effects of the ongoing government shutdown on the region’s transportation system. With more than 100,000 area workers furloughed, usage of both roadways and transit is down from this time last year, as would be expected. Though going such a long time without a paycheck is horrible for all involved, the resulting reduction in farebox recovery has given local media – which has cast the reduced traffic congestion in a positive light – yet another reason to predict doom for increasingly reliable WMATA.

Woodland, CA's Clark Field, where Woodland Christian beat Sacramento Country Day 10-0 in 2006. (Photo courtesy of Small BallFields)

It’s much easier for people to point out wrongdoing than to formulate constructive solutions to problems. In the short term, it’s also more self-gratifying to be negative, as dwelling on shortcomings we don’t bear direct responsibility for helps us forget about our own imperfections.

But in the long run, as I’ve seen with both baseball and transportation, negativity only harms our quality of life.

At Sacramento Country Day, the consequences have come full circle, as the school’s administration rejected a recent proposal to allow high school students to walk to a nearby shopping center at lunchtime. Though the proposal had countless upsides – such as increased physical activity, access to a healthier array of lunch options, and a chance to experience a real-world activity prior to college – the administration cited a pedestrian-hostile intersection near campus as one of the primary justifications for its decision.