Open Run

It took me several years to learn this term. I found out about it after overhearing Central Control responding to a street operations inspector on the corner inquiring about a run number. “That run is a not-out,” was the response to a blank space in the headway between buses.

The rules are as clear as the black and white numbers of a railway timetable about our leaving times, minutes between coaches, and checkpoints along the way. The only thing is we have no printed timetables. (I have to admit, I added that last sentence to make it sound more dramatic.) The truth is it really doesn’t matter that we have no published timetables. And as the street inspectors have been removed from Chestnut and Fillmore, Sutter and Fillmore, 16th and Bryant, Third and 20th, and other places, such as Potrero and 16th and Kansas and 17th, it makes little difference anyway.

Just like the prelude to an elimination of a line, cutting service reduces ridership and lessens the attraction of riding a bus in the first place. At some point, cost reduction becomes self-fulfilling, and so we, too, as a class of operators, become adjusted to the new realities of having a bus or buses missing in front of us. This adds to pass-ups due to full coaches and leads to the missive, “to throw out the schedule” when operating a coach on the line.

I heard a lot about cost-cutting four or five years ago. Now, I hear a sarcastic and condescending tone about making up a schedule and making up stops. With an on-time performance of around 60 percent, I just laugh at this comment. If we had a level of punctuality of over 85 percent, then I could see the point in running on time. But as it is, a difference of 62 versus 63 percent makes no visible difference.

The hard part of all of this is guessing how to adjust headway and speed, not knowing what kind of a day we are going to have. The standard response is to make all stops until the coach fills up, and then begin skipping stops. I object to this sometimes because the folks in the middle of the line get passed up more frequently and get lousy service. This becomes more apparent during special events, when large crowds wait along avenues by Golden Gate Park after the Bay to Breakers race or the Barely Bluegrass festival.

Some coworkers disagree with me about letting passengers know that there is a bus missing in front of or behind me. I believe knowledge is power, and most of my riders are glad to be informed. But I do get the drift that many of my coworkers abide by an “ignorance is bliss” mode.

In any case, knowing that I don’t have a leader by an open run helps me in knowing what to expect. I am not one to be a cry-baby to the dispatcher or the union about how bad I have it with an open run. I have seen others attempt this drama to little effect. Big mouths and cry-babies run hot, and so I have to dial it down when it comes to what headway I am experiencing.

I love it when I am away for a week, and I hear complaints from my regulars or the operator doing my run. What was once a quiet and uncomplaining operator on a run becomes an “O my god” when I am away. I always love hearing about how bad it was when I was off, and an open run leader is no exception. Interestingly, when I come back from vacation, the open run in front of me magically gets filled. There may be a reward in heaven for me working without a leader, but I do get a taste of this when I come back from being away for a while.

Thank you for riding!