Week Without Driving
Day 1 – September 30th
Week Without Driving is a national movement that brings the organizations America Walks and Disability Mobility Initiative together. The goal is for “those who have the option to drive regularly to understand the barriers and challenges that non-drivers face when trying to move safely in their communities, and work with non-drivers to create better communities for all.”
Some things you can just wing, the Week Without Driving is not one of those things. I woke up on day one with the reality that I had not planned very well for the week ahead, no matter how eager I was to walk the walk of my advocacy. My lack of preparation was evident when I looked at my work schedule for the week. While I had planned to work from home on Monday, Tuesday involved a regional meeting with HRTPO at Elizabeth River Park in Chesapeake. I had already imagined I would be taking the bus to the Tide station and then walking into the office, I had not thought about a trip to Chesapeake.
After my workday, the first thing I had to do was figure out my bus route. After spending nearly an hour doing some internet research, I was no closer to establishing how to get to Chesapeake and wasn’t entirely sure I knew what bus I was supposed to be on, let alone the bus schedule.
I decided to walk to the nearest HRT bus stop in front of my neighborhood. There was utility work occurring on both sides of the street which prevented me from using the sidewalk the whole way. At the intersection of Military Hwy. I could see the bus stop, and there was indeed a crosswalk, but I was left on the grass and walking along a grassy berm of Military Hwy. to get to my bus stop. I discovered I was part of Route 15. I retraced my steps home, making time to observe all the mushrooms that had sprouted from the recent rains. The whole fact-finding mission was 25 minutes.
Armed with my route and stop number I was able to locate the bus schedule of times but still didn’t feel any closer to knowing how I would get to Chesapeake and I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t know the fare cost. I rarely have cash on hand and was completely unprepared without a fare card. The HRT site directed me to the nearest place to purchase a fare card at Food Lion .66 miles from my bus stop. I decided I would scrounge through the piggy bank for change for tomorrow’s bus ride, take a break and figure out my route. (It’s $2.00 by the way.) Day one ended with the full realization that this challenge was going to be far more difficult than I anticipated.
Day 2 – October first dawned wet and foggy with plans to wear my sneakers and raincoat and navigate to the bus stop to catch the 7:34 in order to make it to our park meeting spot by 10. As I was getting ready, I received a call from the meeting organizer that the location had changed due to the weather and instead of the Chesapeake Park we would be at the regional building instead. The amount of time needed to calculate altering my route made me anxious and completely unprepared. I abandoned the idea of mass transportation altogether, changed into office attire, and already by day two was driving my car. It rained the entire day and as I drove home every pedestrian, bicyclist, and family crowding under bus shelters and umbrellas waiting for their transportation was like a dagger of guilt.
Day 3 – 10/2 – When I looked at my weekly calendar I already knew Wednesday would be a car day because ironically, I had a scheduled maintenance appointment for my vehicle. So, I put some parameters in place for myself. I would drive my car to the mechanic for its appointment and back home but work to spend the rest of the day back on plan. The first Wednesday of the month is typically a work-from-home day for me as it is the only Wednesday without committee meetings, but I did need to get groceries and really wanted to go to yoga.
There is very little bike or pedestrian infrastructure in my neighborhood, hence the lack of sidewalks to the bus stop. I was not going to ride my bike down Military Hwy. to the grocery store, and it felt safer to me to walk along the grass. Feeling frustrated and upset by the lack of sidewalks, I trekked half a mile on foot to the grocery, and carried my necessities back home through the wet grass, rather than ride my bike in an unprotected area with no sharrows. I felt certain that if an off-road trail like the ERT existed in my community, I would absolutely use it for my daily errands. Fun fact, most vehicular commutes are for trips three miles or less!
In the Week Without Driving resource packet, we are encouraged to keep track of the cost it would be to ask other people for rides. When my husband drove me to get my fare card, I promised to do dishes for the week, or when Morgan picked me up for yoga, I committed to watering the office plants and loading our cars for the next month of ERT events. I had to remind myself that using a car did not mean I failed the challenge, if I was thinking deeply about what would happen if I didn’t have the luxury of a vehicle. Simply put, the effort involved in planning and executing everyday tasks is multiplied exponentially.
Day 4 10/3– I had a plan. It was a beautiful sunny day, and after my morning zoom meeting I walked 12 minutes to the bus stop, waited 10 more minutes for the route 15 bus, and used my fare card to get to the Military Hwy Tide Station. The route to the Tide station took 25 minutes. I used that time to check email, listen to music and plan for my route home.
When I arrived at the Tide station I had just missed the Westbound train! While I waited 16 minutes for another train, a number of pedestrians and cyclists, and a whole family arrived on the platform. A quick 12-minute ride and I was at the MacArthur stop just a short walk from my office.
On the ride back, I got to the station just in time to catch the Eastbound train and was feeling extra lucky as I looked out the window at the traffic jam on 264, 3 lanes of stopped traffic, as the Tide cruised by. I later learned there was a campaign rally that held up traffic for hours and I felt a little glimmer of joy that my alternative transportation avoided the bottle neck. While I felt like I was starting to get the hang of this, I was acutely aware of the sheer amount of time I was spending commuting, thinking about commuting, and being concerned about safety.
By day five I was already weary of planning ahead for transportation. As I write this, I recognize how much this statement comes from a place of privilege. The Week Without Driving is a time to gain new insights into my community by experiencing it without driving. The simple truth is my community was not designed to be navigated without a car. As an advocate for trails and active transportation, I see the impact of divisive infrastructure, and I know our city can do better, can be better. I would like to say that I ended this challenge strong, but I didn’t. I asked people to drive me places. I was dependent on a vehicle.
There is so much more I could write about the impact of Hurricane Helene on towns that rely on trails for their economic impact and how important having access to multi-modal transportation and active transportation infrastructure is, but I’m going to close by saying how much I value the ERT as a safe place to walk, to connect communities, to drive the economy, to anchor institutions and economic generators. How much I wish the trail could serve more of the city as we work to be a resource for change toward a future less dependent on cars.
