The Dao of Doug: A Bus Driver's Perspective

“Baby needs a new pair of shoes.” That’s what I say when I am hitting hard, or I see sparks at night off of my collectors. Shoes are the carbon blocks sitting inside the brasserie or metal brackets that form a slot at the end of our trolley poles. This is the point at which we collect our power from the overhead. The shoes sit inside of the collectors. 600 volts of direct current are fed through the feeder wires, which come from certain utility poles, which carry the wires upon which we travel.

Next time you are on a hill by some trolley line, look for the poles, which are carrying the power. You can see the wires coming directly out of the pole and on to the overhead. If too many buses are too close together, especially on a steep hill, the power breaker will go off and we will temporarily lose power because the feeder wire cannot handle the load. This shut-off of power, or a tripping of the circuit breaker can occur leaving Chinatown on Sacramento Street heading outbound up the hill to Nob Hill, and also on Union Street leaving Van Ness inbound. It didn’t take me long to learn this fact.

Heading inbound on the 41 Line, I was not too far behind two smaller coaches that started across Van Ness as I pulled in to the zone to pick up a few runners. But because the next stop at Polk is on a steep hill with a short green light, the two buses did not clear the Polk Street stop as I crossed Van Ness and began to climb. Sure enough, as I got close to Polk, they started to move on to Larkin. But this is one of the steepest grade in the system. Since no one was waiting at Polk, I did not kill the light, but proceeded ahead before the light turned red. I figured the other buses would be on to the next block before I crossed Larkin, just as business as usual such as in the Mission line I was familiar with. Big mistake. My pull on the power caused the bus in front of me to slow down dramatically, and I put the pedal to the medal, but the bus came to a stop. I looked back and saw another bus crossing Van Ness and beginning to climb. There were now four buses in three blocks, loaded with passengers getting to work, and two of us were stopped.

I put on the parking brake and waited for the bus in front of me to start moving. Fortunately, he was able to start moving forward once I stopped draining energy from the wires. But another bus behind me was starting to climb from Van Ness, and sure enough, I saw the bus in front start to slow down as the bus behind me started to hit the steep grade. I won’t follow too close from now on. The feeling of powerlessness when I put my foot down on the power pedal, and start to lose power on a hill, with a full bus, is not something I would like to experience again.

Having a traction brush fail is also another scary movie. In departing Chinatown for Nob Hill, I lost all forward traction on the bus. And the parking brake would not hold the coach, either. All I could do is hold my foot on the service brake, and call for help. One thing I did forget about was when the air in lines reaches a certain point below 60 pounds per square inch, the emergency brake will pop up and hold the coach. But this is a small comfort when the air in the lines is not holding the coach at a higher pressure. Did I really want to test the pop-up and see if it would hold? Luckily, it did. But I sure hope I never get that coach again when I am leaving Chinatown during peak period!

After rain for a week, all the carbon dust built-up on the wires gets washed away. This is great for keeping our hands clean, should we need to use the ropes to replace our poles on the wires; but not good for wear and tear on the carbon shoe. It cuts faster in to the wire because there is no more dust to act as a lubricant. The groove in our shoe gets deep. Our collectors hit the hangars and crossovers with a loud ka-chunk, and our poles drop down off of the wires. We need new shoes.

There is a special slot in the range of the poles where we can hold the pole down to look at the shoes. This is at about a 45 degree angle from where the pole attaches on to the roof of the bus. We can look to see if the carbon is cracked or deeply grooved. Sometimes when we look there is no carbon at all in the collector! We cannot drive the bus forward from that point and must not move until the shop arrives and replaces the carbon. And when we have new carbons, we still have to be careful in crossing other wires, because the slot in the new carbon is very small, and the poles can fall off of the wires easily.

Now, the shop checks every coaches’ carbons when we pull in after a.m. rush. They also check the temperature to see if our shunts are working and we have enough swivel. This helps keep the Zen!

Paying attention to how hard the coach is hitting the wires is good for staying in the Zen of driving a bus in San Francisco.

One of the common comments I get from operators, even those with time and with lots of experience, is the refrain, “I never call central.” Or “Those guys are clueless.” And I have found operators on the extra board fall in to this category more than the average operator working a regular run on the same schedule every day. Extra board operators get to be assigned a new run on a daily basis. This is great when a sign-up drags on for months, and keeps monotony and boredom at a minimum, and it also prevents an attitude to develop from regular problems or passengers, because the operator is not on the same schedule day in and day out.

I believe some operators are “hiding out” on the extra board so as to reduce their accountability with the regular riding public. And this can be a very good reason. Especially when there aren’t enough operators to cover all runs. But for me, I like the regularity to plan my time off by having a fixed schedule. Also, if there are recurring problems on my run and line, I get to take a look at what I am doing to cause these problems, and see if I can make them go away. That’s why I like to do my “homework” during a sign-up and see if I can make a choice preventing headway problems or overload, though this is not always clear. Especially in not knowing who will sign on a low paying run as my leader.

“Central” is our shorthand for OCC: Operations Central Control. Even though nine of ten interactions with Central may not appear fruitful or necessary, it is the one in ten times when a call to Central, or from Central, is immensely helpful. And it is this one in ten that makes keeping a professional calm tone on the air really pay off.

Central operators come to identify us not by run or coach number, but by our voice. And if they have come to recognize my voice and attitude as one of helpfulness or being brief and concise, all the better. One more tool to have at my disposal when I may need it. Yes, Central cannot necessarily see what is going on in and around my coach, so bearing this in mind, I don’t get upset if they state something contradictory to what I know or can see.

A lot about what Central can see has changed recently. The new drive cams mounted on the front windscreen (windshield) has helped, as do the newer cameras in the newer coaches. Central Control is no longer in the dark about what is going on in front of our coach, and I believe this to be a good thing. Some would say this is an invasion of privacy, but I disagree because we are a civil servant in a job serving the public. Cameras are being installed around the common areas at our division for security purposes, and the drama queens are upset. If you are a public servant and carry yourself professionally throughout your day, what is the problem?

Yes, I do believe George Orwell is right: big brother is watching us in more and more places, but I try to keep this aspect on a positive note, hoping these images would capture an event that would protect me from abuse and falsehood. Much of the cost of litigation can be stopped dead in its tracks by the images captured on the coach. I look at the drive cam as my friend–So far so good.

I said that only one in ten calls may appear helpful, and these calls usually end in a tag line from Central we operators come to know all too well. Below are a list of the tag lines Central gives us, and the emotional component that goes along with them. These phrases may seem simple and innocent enough on this paper, in your armchair or desk as you read this, but believe me, when we get these directives, we are under a much higher level of stress or unusual headway.

“See the Inspector”

Usually occurs when things are very busy. Central Control may be having high call volume sometimes due to a major line delay such as when the tunnel gets blocked. We are silently expected to work an extra load without a break and we need a switchback for a mental break, or because we have been working for over two hours without a break. Sometimes, on a straight through run, we may have gone for four hours without a fifteen minute break. So we call for a switch back, usually ten minutes short of our final terminal. The answer from Central Control is to “see the inspector” for time and place. But nine times out of ten, there is no inspector! I usually pop the brake and wait and see. If no one comes to the door, I can call again, but this adds to the delay, and other coaches may be blocked behind me. “Take it to the end, and call back later.” is the usual response. Not getting the break we need, when we need it, adds to the frustration.

“Take It to the End”

Usually a Central response after “See the Inspector.” And even if we do make contact with the inspector, he or she says, “Take It to the End.” Good is the day I can follow this instruction without a problem. If I am all alone, without a coach behind me, I follow this order, but if my follower catches up to me by the time I reach my last short route switchback, I call again. Many operators wise to this make sure they stay four minutes or more so the lead coach doesn’t get a switchback. This makes for a long day unless we can turn it in to a game, or our coach shuts down and we need a road call.

“Do The Best You Can”

When I cannot take on any more passengers because my bus is full, I call to let Central know I am beginning to pass up stops. This phrase comes in to play when we are late and heavy. Many of our coaches have defects not safety significant, but are randomly occurring and cause delay, such as slow doors, and slow brake release. Fare box problems and lack of heat or air can also us to not feel we have been given what we need to do our job properly. Not being able to use the wheelchair lift or kneeler due to low air is just another curse to hear, “Do the Best You Can.” But at some point, going out of service may soon become reality. This most frequently occurs when a bus is already missing in front of us. We are taking on more people, which adds to the bus performance issues, and adds to needing relief.

“Put It On the Defect Card and Continue in Service”

This usually pertains to a bad fare box or Clipper card service not working. But when a defect concerns our ability to pick up wheel chairs, a call is mandatory. Many times, the bus won’t move if the lift does not stow. This is a bummer to have to clear the coach and tell everyone that the bus it out of service. So most times, of all the orders, this one is usually the fastest and easiest to follow. Hopefully, we can continue in service, but this is usually an order before another call to state we can’t continue.

Things tend to go wrong in groups. Getting out of the bus to push the wheelchair lift to stow is one technique. Resetting master control and shutting off the bus sometimes makes the problem go away. Clicking on the traction control or rear door lock can make a problem go away, at least for awhile. This can make relief interesting. Because as a bus gets warm and stays in service, the performance starts to deteriorate. I am amazed at those who can make it to the relief point on time and not break down. So the lack of writing anything down on the card, and bringing it to the relief point, is an honor in and of itself, even though many take issue with this and feel the relief operator is not being honest. But given our own situation to end a part of our shift on time, bringing the coach to a relief point is better understood.

Breaking down and having to pull out may not be any easier than calling Central at the relief point, and calling the shop. So the decision to stay in service is up to us and not Central, and the order to continue in service lends itself to conflict with others: passengers and coworkers alike.

“Help is On the Way”

Make sure you have something to drink or eat in your bag. Make sure you have your reading glasses or reading material also. As any professional driver can attest, you never know when your shift will end, or how long you will have to wait in the dark or cold wind, for a road crew to assist you in getting back on the road. We are required to call back at regular intervals to check and see when help will actually arrive.

There are some good times and some bad times to ask for help, especially during a shift change. Faced with the prospect of waiting in the cold, we do try to keep going as best we can, without delay. But many times this is impossible because the bus will not move. “Help Is On the Way” can have our eyes rolling because it seems like a bad joke. We operators can balance this equation when we get asked the question, “Is there another bus behind you? “Yes,” we say, as we close the doors. Thank God you never said “when.” And even when it is asked with the phrase, “just right behind you?” since we were never given any units of measure, such as in blocks or in minutes, the answer, “yes,” is still an honest one!

But lest we forget, we never know who is listening, so it is best to remain calm and stay professional. Doing so has given me the switchback or pull-in I really need to go home just at the right time. Answering incorrectly can put me under the microscope for other problems, and this usually does not end well in the superintendent’s office.

“See the Dispatcher”

It’s like go see the boss. You are in trouble, and have to go to the Principal’s office. Perhaps this is the most insidious message from Central because of the ambiguity. What could possibly be the reason I need to see the dispatcher? Is it an off the cuff, oh-by-the-way, afterthought in a message, or a stand alone call. It’s effect for bewilderment and despair is best used alone. Do I have mail? Did the man waving his cane at me as I passed him up call 3-1-1? Did the guy in the wheelchair who blocked my bus, completely full, on Van Ness at Market have a friend in the MTA office? Did the woman who said she knew the Mayor personally, as she repeated my cap number under her breath as she stepped off, really actually know the Mayor? Was that sarcastic comment by the lead dispatcher this morning a tip off they knew what was coming? I must be employee of the Year! (hah) These and a thousand other thoughts roll around in our heads as we try to guess why Central, in their busy day, thought it necessary to call us about seeing the Dispatcher. Maybe it is a drug test. What would happen if I just happened to forget as I trudged up the steps after pulling-in? In any event, I can’t remember any good reason for when I had to see the Dispatcher. Which begs the question, is it better to pick up mail at the end of the day or right before a pull-out in the morning? After work may be the winning answer.

And now I see I be lying, because there was the time I received two commendations in one day! And today they actually let me go home from my doctor’s appointment, instead of having to return back to get my letter signed! So like any ‘good’ operator, I embellish the story with pain and suffering to gain sympathy, and hope this will change the outcome of discipline to a favorable decision. It never does. The decisions are usually made in advance. It’s kind of like the Cardassian system of justice. Guilty until proven innocent.

But when a passenger comes forward with a phone number and a line of support, it all seems to melt away. Which reminds me to say it is always a good idea to have a courtesy card in our jacket pocket. These are cards which a passenger can fill out as a reference to an unusual occurrence on the bus. Usually a phone number is enough. We (should) keep them with us, so all you have to do is ask. When someone observes I am doing a good job, and goes out of their way to let me know, the Zen zone returns, and the rest of the trip is uneventful.

If you would like to see a magic trick or illusion played out day after day, look no further than a ride on 14 Mission. The secret of becoming invisible is to sit in a wheelchair, particularly in a large group. The more, the merrier. It matters not where you sit on the sidewalk in the wheelchair. Those intending to board are only interested in their own desire. The thought of waiting for others or considering a need other than their own, does not compute. We have our “blinders” on and don’t notice the changing conditions around us, such as someone with special needs waiting or approaching the bus stop after we have arrived.

In order to be of service, I need to walk that fine line of allowing those waiting to board first to “awaken” to see the person in the wheelchair who may be behind them or to the side. I have to be on guard with my tone of voice and how I express myself. It is important to note that, from the driver’s perspective, most conflict arises when approaching the front door from behind and to the right. The blind spot is larger when the doors are open, because they partially block the side and rear views. Hiding behind the open doors causes hurt feelings.

I have an incredible opportunity to be a guide. Sometimes, it is simpler to let those passengers board first if the time between buses is short. If the number of those intending increases beyond four or five, with more boarding in the rear, loading the chair first is best. Those who are allowed up the front steps first usually sit down in the first two chairs under the wheel well and block the aisle. Others sit down in the flip-up seats where the wheelchair needs to secure. Young people with ear buds on and others with children enter through the middle door and sit in the wheelchair area, inattentive to my request to make room.

This is when I find it simpler to get up and face them with hand signals to rise. Raising the flip-up seats myself, before the chair lift is used, is the fastest way to get going if the person in the chair is alone and has no help, or if no passenger on board helps to raise the seats. Most of the time as operators, we don’t have to get out to raise the seats because someone else offers help. Other times, help is available, but few know how to pull down and away to unlock the seats to raise them for the wheelchair. This is when I need to convey patience and cheerfulness and demonstrate how to lift the seats. I choose to believe that I am “lighting a candle” for others to see.

I am powerless over controlling passengers on my bus, but I also have a responsibility to those who need to get where they are going in a timely fashion. The biggest challenge I face today is to balance these needs without going over the top in anger and frustration and to keep the coach moving without a fall on board or a security incident. Humor can go a long way in diffusing a tense situation, but there are those who are so broken in spirit or illness who do not want help and are unable to think of anyone other than their own selves. Humor here does not work. It is perceived as an affront.

Most riders in wheelchairs have the faculty and support they need to obtain the equipment they require to be mobile. Others are unable to walk without support or must arrange for a special-needs transit, yet they insist that Muni take them back and forth, unaware of the impact they are having on the line. Still others insist I call the police over any small, perceived trespass, without regard for the welfare of those needing to get to their destination.

Case in point. A man at 16th and Mission attempts to block my coach and tells me to call the police. Another man, who was arguing with this man, just put his bike on the rack and entered through the rear door with a baby stroller loaded with his personal belongings. “He has my stroller!” says the first man. I beckon the man in the street to my window and suggest he ride with me in the back. The second man yells profanity at the man on the street and throws the stroller out the back door.

“He’ll get what he’s got coming to him,” the first man responds calmly, walking to the sidewalk to retrieve his stroller. I nod in agreement. Sure enough, this angry man forgets to take his bike off the rack at 6th Street, where he rushes to get his belongings off without the stroller. He walks away with a nice woman in a wheelchair, who had plenty of time to board when the two were arguing at 16th Street. I ask the two bouncers on the corner club to remind the angry man that I’ll be back in half an hour in the other direction so he can claim his bike. They nod in agreement.

When I get back to 6th Street, here is a different man, smiling and at peace as he removes his bike from the rack. God does not work in mysterious ways. Especially when I try to do the right thing! Another police call saved for another day. Another incident report after work unwritten. I can make my timed transfer just before 3:00 a.m. and catch my ride home.

Unfortunately, those with aimless purpose sometimes seem to have such a large sense of entitlement. I am at a loss on how to tame this beast. I have to say as little as possible and light the candle for another time, another place. Don’t feed the pigeons is code for keep quiet. It goes against my Gemini nature to defer and delay a conversation about choosing where to sit, and this is a key reason for writing this book. I hope this message gets out to those who are regular riders, so that problems go away.

A recent spate of fights over seating in the front area of the bus has me thinking about how to clear this crunch zone before conflict develops. As agent Smith tells Neo in the movie, Matrix, “Do you hear that, Neo? It is the sound of inevitability.” Not unlike a train approaching in the subway tunnel, lack of available space increases a head-on collision. This crunch zone always occurs in the Inner Mission and by Van Ness and Market. Thank you, Director of Transit, for locking seats in the upright position!

The other cloak of invisibility problem I find over seating and right of way is the passenger with ear buds on, occupying two seats with a coat or bag over another seat. The ear buds act as an invisibility shield: You can’t talk to me because I can’t hear you. Especially if my eyes are closed!

I sat next to this girl who adds to drama because she takes an aisle seat, covers the window seat, and becomes unavailable for talk as the bus fills up to capacity. If someone sits down on her coat, a battle of wills can ensue. It is always a good idea to ask before entering someone’s zone of personal space, as is being alert when seats are no longer available. This is a problem if you can’t hear us because your ear buds are on, and you appear to be asleep. Overcoming the fear of losing aisle space and seats for seniors has been a long and challenging journey for this transit operator in San Francisco. When you board, especially with a bike, or when others are nearby, unhook an ear bud by the fare box and keep the Zen going. Thanks!