time, again

795 miles

Voyages '04

Here's a set of pics I transfered from Snapfish to my Flickr account recently. They're from my Alaska/West Coast/Driving-across-country/DC adventures in 2004.

Morning exercise

Out the door, down the steps, outside and begin. Okay, walk briskly and start to angle. Over the left shoulder check for traffic and quickly peer back to the right. Go. Hop up the curb, position your strides over the vents and listen for whooshing trains, feel for gusts of air. Nothing, sweet! Whip around the corner and down the steps. Keep listening. Around 12th step grab wallet from back pocket. Avoid that puddle, it’s slippery and nasty. Keep walking while simultaneously removing farecard. Okay, you hear something so don’t screw up when swiping card. Firmly and swiftly slide the card with the flat bottom resting snugly along the brushed steel plates. Nice! You’re through and sure enough, there’s a white spotlight 30 yards down the track coming to a halt. Sprint! Don’t slip, avoid the people walking towards you, don’t step too close to the edge but do run a bit closer to the edge because the conductor needs to see you. Fifteen yards, ten yards, the announcer didn’t see you and he’s ringing the bell. Lunge, grab the door, let it clamp down on your arm, let it momentarily re-open, and go! Alright you’re in.

Breathe.

Now the truth is you’re not positioned well. You really need to be two cars towards the middle because that’s the closest spot to the best stairwell. Walk down the moving train, keep your right arm in touch with the ceiling railing. Whoops! Damn good thing for that right arm. Apologize to the lady you bumped, congratulate yourself for not embarrassing yourself worse, half-jokingly curse the universe for trains unexpectedly slowing, and keep moving. Avoid pondering over what was on the 147 hands that held that railing in that exact spot in the last two days. Keep moving. Alright, next station now, doors opening. Sneak out past those entering, angle left and take a few sprinting strides down the train. Back in on the next car. nice. Moving. Take a look at a pair of boots with an exposed steel toe, a pair of blocky grandma shoes, a two-inch black high-heel, and a pair of sneakers with thick shoelaces all arranged horizontally. Ignore the guy preaching damnation, he was here yesterday too. Quick, breathe.

Okay, here’s the station. The train could approach from either side and you really need to be right in front of the door. You choose the left and wait. Feel how the train’s angling slightly? Good. Switch sides to the other door. Damn good thing you moved then because now there’s 15 people crowded behind you. Train stops. Waiting, waiting, and the doors open! Go! The next car over’s closer to the stairwell so you have to hurry. 11 people in front of you on the stairs. It’s a blockade. Frustration. Alright top of stairs, things open up a bit. You’ve got some work to do. The other staircases moved faster and now you’ve got about 40 people to contend with as you move along the long corridor. The path broadens a bit and you swing wide. You make three passes before the older gentleman blocks your progress. But you see this coming, gauge his velocity and that of the other gentleman to your left and slightly behind and determine if you move now, you can take the gap. You do. They guy behind’s slightly pissed but you speed up and you’re out of his way in a flash. Well executed. You’re looking at about twenty people now but they’re the elite, the jaguars, the top guns. This group you float with. Make another pass or two but mostly enjoy the fluidity and speed of this group.

Okay, but listen, or maybe feel. There’s a train approaching downstairs. Could be yours. Go! Whip around the corner, skip down the stairs, dash ahead. Crap, it’s the V. now for the agonizing few minutes of no progress. You slowly approach the spot on the platform that’ll be just right and lean against the post. Pull out the magazine and read. It’s reading time. The next train will be too packed so take as many words as you can right now. A couple lines…is that it? No. a couple lines, interesting, really, okay. There it is. Train. Let off those who are going to leave your couple square feet, claim your spot as first entrant, and go! Off with the backpack, nudge, bump, shuffle, excuse me, shuffle, no railing. Alright, you’re stuck against the door. Angle your back a bit because you have to consider the possibility of that thing flying open. Put your pressure appropriately on the two inches of the exposed door’s arch. He stepped on your foot. No worries man. Maybe read? No, no room and you gotta watch that door. Five stops. Take it in around you. All the sights sounds smells around you. It’s early but you gotta take this in right now.

Okay last transfer. Roll now! Because you hear it approaching on the other track. Sprint past the shuffling group of 7, up the stairs, dash in and out of the 42nd street masses. Gauge that angle, that speed, that newcomer who’s working the diagonal. There’s motion and change everywhere but you need to digest, calculate, and act on this instantaneously if you want to take that train. A red laser line traces your zig zag for unconcerned deceased relatives to never look at, but who knows right? Somebody’s gotta appreciate this….down the steps! Crap go! It’s closing, it’s closed.

Utter despair…but you know better, sometimes it happens, sometimes…look up the train and see there’s a mash of people there….ding dong…oh my god, you get your chance as the doors open for less than a second and you lunge in. the stationary riders with their briefcases chuckle silently at the glistening sweat on your forehead in understanding. No seats, but you know about 22% of the train will clear at the next stop and you’ll have three seconds to grab a seat. It’s a long ride, you have a magazine, and damnit, you’ve earned this.

Now read, read, read.