Act 8: Bus Route 10
In honor of Women’s History Month (which technically is now over, but this project is a product of the month of March), I am sharing my own little herstory via an extended prose-and-photo essay I’ve entitled, “My Solitary Seattle Sojourn.” For context, please (re)visit my Celebrating International Women’s Day article that I published on International Women’s History Day, March 8: Celebrating International Women’s Day | LinkedIn. That piece is the Introduction to this essay collage.
A brief summary of that: I spent 3 months in Seattle in 1999 and fell head over heels in love with this city. Throughout the 24 years since that magical experience, I had a recurring dream of coming back for an extended stay. I took advantage of the AWP 2023 Writer’s Conference in Seattle earlier this month as a starting point for a 3-week solo adventure here, the purpose of which was to relive some of my previous adventure while declaring new experiences in a new adventure, and documenting the insights gained through the comparison of then-and-now (to the place, and to me, the person). Oh, and doing all this while also working on a memoir draft about a primary friendship that recently ended.
I flew home Wednesday, March 29, a newly inspired woman, and now I aim to keep the fires burning into the coming alive of Spring.
Now, on to my Love Letter to Seattle, in 10 Acts. I will post each act separately, with a link to the previous act.
Photo/Essay Table of Contents:
Pre-Act: Introduction: Celebrating International Women’s Day | LinkedIn
Act 1: Literature: My Solitary Seattle Sojourn: A Prose-and-Photo Essay in 10 Acts | LinkedIn
Act 2: Food/Service Industry My Solitary Seattle Sojourn, Act 2: Food / Service | LinkedIn
Act 3: Coffee! My Solitary Seattle Sojourn, Act 3: Coffee! | LinkedIn
Act 4: The City (Landscape of My Heart) My Solitary Seattle Sojourn, Act 4: The City (Landscape of My Heart) | LinkedIn
Act 5: Birds (7) My Solitary Seattle Sojourn: Act 5: Sea(ttle) Birds | LinkedIn
Act 6: Nature / Parks (3) My Solo Seattle Sojourn: Act 6: Nature | LinkedIn
Act 7: Visitors (OR Culture?) My Solo Seattle Sojourn: Act 7: Culture (Via an Adventuring Heart) | LinkedIn
Act 8: Bus Route 10 You Are Here!
Act 9: The Grim Reaper
Act 10: Solitary Sundays
Post-Act: Acknowledgments
In Act 7, I made this declaration: “Away from the daily grind, the responsibilities of “home,” away from the routine that brings about mostly what we expect it to, adventuring opens my heart in such a way that I imagine the rainbow aura that pours out in these times is at once welcoming and engaging.” This is a true statement for me. However, some element of routine within an adventure helps us dive deeper into the elements of a place that most inspire us, granting us a semblance of locality that enables relationship-building with a place. That’s why, while in Seattle for most of the month of March, I revisited certain restaurants, parks, or street corners that brought me joy and comfort. New experience and not knowing what to expect are dopamine thrillers, for sure, but living 100% in this way is neither feasible nor fulfilling. The just-right combination of newness with the ever-changing experience of sameness allows one to more fully analyze what it is we appreciate about a place or a type of experience within a place.
Bus Route 10 was this tool of travel routine for me. Some advance planning and repetition are required when utilizing public transportation, from the decision to purchase a bus card (or train ticket, Uber ride, etc.) to determining and finding your place of entrance or exit. The #10 Bus in Seattle connects the tippy-top of the Capitol Hill region with the final edge of downtown that hugs the sea at Seattle’s Pike Place Market. This same route is one I walked frequently during my 3-month stay in 1999, when I’d leave my rental home on dark, rainy mornings and walk the several blocks to Glo’s Diner where I was a happy dishwasher. At the end of those shifts, I’d either make the uphill trek back to my temporary neighborhood, or continue on down the long, winding hill for adventures that abound all along Olive, Pike, Pine, or any number of parallel streets.
The #10 Bus simply made this route quicker and easier on days when I wanted to travel further distances and spend less time in the process. And while the long hike back up to Capitol Hill from downtown Seattle is a great way to exercise your heart muscle and leg fibers, it’s not always appealing after a long day of adventuring where you’ve already worked your body plenty. Hence Bus 10.
But while riding the bus may take you away from some of the face-to-face street encounters so beloved by adventure seekers, riding with your fellow citizen brings its own unique encounter, sometimes more personal than is comfortable (so really, even the routine of riding a bus is only framed in the what-to-expect sameness, while the ride itself is always unique). The view of the city’s streets and distant landscapes whirring by through large bus windows provides its own artistic bent, the art of reality with its varying multi-dimensions and focal points.
Riding the #10 in Seattle in March was sometimes soothing—a reprieve from a colder rainfall and the deeper puddles of the sidewalk. In mornings, folk mostly keep their heads down in quiet contemplation of their day ahead. For these rides, I enjoyed sipping hot tea from a cheap metal thermos I bought at the corner store and listening to Seattle’s community radio station KEXP on my headphones while either watching the scenes go past or journaling.
Afternoon rides were usually livelier, folk jumping off here and there, or rolling on with wheelchairs, holding babies or pets in containers on their laps, music streaming from hidden speakers on their person providing a soundtrack for the moment. Of course, it wasn’t always in good accord. Many annoyances, disputes, and uncomfortable displays of despair were part of the fabric of the experience. Yet even these experiences, while certainly not to be celebrated, are to be respected and reviewed for later analysis of the good, the bad, and the indifferent elements of society.
And sometimes the bus driver shows such heartwarming displays of kindness toward his or her fellow wo/man, that the heart muscle is exercised again, with oxytocin rather than physical effort. This I experienced during my first after-dark bus ride, where I observed the driver look after a young, seemingly vulnerable female passenger whom I imagined was known as a regular on the streets at night.
This same driver looked out for me that evening and gave me my first lesson in Seattle’s compassionate struggle with fentanyl, seen from the safety of his vehicle while making the loop between Pike and Pine along downtown’s 3rd street, where I saw for the first time in my life a living swarm of humanity a city-block long, vibrating in its desperate throng, arms flailing, eyes darting from one vision to the next. And this moment was the preamble to my more negative encounter with the Grim Reaper of the night during the Scary Hours. . . .
Stay tuned for Act 9: The Grim Reaper.
