Restricted Mode

This devilish mode is found in the morning when someone turns on the coach in neutral; it’s a bummer when you need to pull out on track four. Nowhere can the ghosts inhabiting some buses be found more frequently than in the flashing red light on the dash that notes propulsion down or reduced performance. On some coaches, it is the horn or the windshield wipers that go on or off unexpectedly; on others, the problem can be in the vents or in trying to open the driver’s window.

One bus has its spiritual signature on the back window emergency lever. It won’t lock, and if you try to seal the window, the whole window comes out. As experienced operators, we eventually get a working knowledge of what quirk each coach has. We can log a diary of the coach number and what the “defect” is, so that when we get the coach again, we already know what to do or not to do. Over time, we don’t even need to look at our diary; we already know instinctively.

Restricted mode is tough because it can change from coach to coach and from time to time. All we can do is try to follow the manufacturer’s specifications to the letter and hope we don’t omit any step or procedure that might start the cascade all over again. For example, waiting a full two minutes with the coach turned off before we restart. (Needless to say, if stopped in a busy intersection, motorists may have other ideas about waiting a full two minutes while the bus is blocking traffic.) Turning on the bus when in neutral is a no-no for some, but on other coaches, it is required.

Leaving the heat or blowers on can create an energy drain that some buses won’t tolerate when “waking up.” Likewise, turning on the blower motors too soon after turning on the engine can also create payback complaints from the bus.

In the pre-op test before becoming an operator, the first line item action is addressing the coach. I literally greet my coaches before I board. If I fail to do this, I can quickly get into trouble. I do talk to my buses when I approach them from behind in the yard or from the front in the garage. If I am finely attuned, I can sense a problem as soon as I am assigned a coach by the yard starter. And of late, my intuition seems uncanny in its accuracy. If I am asleep in my awareness, however, I can get bitten by doors that won’t close or a radio that doesn’t work or a power drain that brings the bus to a halt. I try to coax them back to life, but if they fail me at an inopportune moment, I do happen to tell them a thing or two, like Sigourney Weaver as Ripley in the movie, Aliens.

The point of no return seems to be when I have tried to reset master control for a third time without success. I reach a point where no more tricks or clicks will bring the coach back to life. It is time to call for help. Imagine my shock when the radio won’t transmit, especially if I happen to be in the middle of an intersection.

But my overhead power karma is good, and I usually can get out of a blocked situation fast. I always try to help another stuck operator to keep my matrix clear. Many such problems are those that never “stick” because of our fit spiritual condition. A good pre-op pays huge dividends on the road later in the day. I am always relieved when I find a problem on track four and not at Sansome and Sutter.