Crunch Zone

I picked up a man in a wheelchair near downtown at Third Street outbound and was amazed at how smooth and fast he boarded and locked in. I could tell he was a regular rider. Instinctively, I knew he was going to get off at 16th and Mission, and sure enough, when I asked, he stated he was going to 16th. I told him I was glad to have a regular rider who knew how to ride Muni. He talked about his learning curve on how to work the flip-up seats and about where to get on and get off. If there was any heartfelt strength of purpose to distribute this book to the masses, it is not about the money or the power or the vanity of being an author, but to get out the wisdom about how to ride, so that the bus system moves faster and creates fewer headaches for those getting around. Nowhere is this wisdom needed more than in the crunch zone.

At first, I wanted to call this chapter, “Crunch Time,” as it pertains to the operation of a bus from 3:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. However, the pattern of movement between two stops was as predictable as the time frame, and I realized a more accurate description of gridlock was in certain zones between stops. And the idea for this chapter was born in the conversation with this wheelchair rider as he glided away from downtown with me in a calm, roomy coach. If there is an opposite to being in the Zen zone, this chapter is it. I found out he wanted to go up Van Ness to Geary, but was passing up the transfer point by four blocks. Now I know why. He was avoiding having to board a trolley in the crunch zone.

On the 14 Mission, the crunch zone exists between 16th Street and 7th inbound in the morning, and Fourth and Eleventh outbound in the afternoon. The sequence of events is so repetitive and coincidental that one could plot a graph of predictability on an actuarial table for an insurance company. Come to think of it, the City of San Francisco is an insurance company. I don’t know how this would help with claims, but like this man who was on my coach, avoiding the problem areas makes for an easy ride, even if it means traveling beyond the shortest distance between two points.

Indeed, I found this out as a rider in my thirties, new to the city in the 1980s. In getting to my warehouse in Hunter’s Point and Bayview from the Tenderloin, the shortest route was the 19 Polk. But the fastest way was to go inbound on the Geary bus to catch a 15 Third. I made a large checkmark inbound to outbound rather than go crosstown direct.

And this is true of the crunch zones between the 49 Van Ness and the 14 Mission. Especially if you are in a wheelchair, carrying a large cumbersome object, or using a grocery cart. Also, if you have difficulty in getting up the stairs or need a seat right by the door, oddly enough, the best offense is the defense of traveling beyond the closest stop to your destination. This means backtracking to board where the bus is less crowded. Many riders have learned this about getting on a train under Market Street.

The crunch zone for the 49 Van Ness builds as the bus moves inbound to the streets numbered in the teens until 14th Street, where room runs out and there is nowhere to sit or stand. Cyclists, walkers, and those receiving food bank items filling a grocery cart all wait in the crunch zone. If there are two coaches bunched together, usually everything is fine. But if there are gaps between buses, a pass-up frequently prevents crowding problems.

On the 49 line, the crunch zone exists between 16th Street and Eddy inbound, and from O’Farrell to Otis outbound. Load factors and working leaders influence the zone by making it longer or shorter, but in general, I have to make sure people boarding do the right thing by sitting or standing in such a way as to prevent fights or arguments at the following stops. Crunch zones also lie in the Inner Mission between 18th and 30th outbound in the p.m. Also, before 24th St. BART inbound in the morning commute. People listen better before their space is threatened.

This is a golden key to the crunch zone. I, too, have a better vibe and tone if I ask someone to move before the crunch zone hits. And when those who have moved see that those I next pick up need the first two seats, the message has hit home in a way that is not threatening or defensive. Score one for the Zen!