March 4th, 2020

18 years/ #TransitFeelings

March 4, 2020 is my 18 year anniversary in Toronto–next year this city will be tied with my hometown for the place I’ve lived the longest. When I think about the full duration of my time in Toronto, something to centre this blog post around, what comes to mind is the TTC–specifically, buses. From March 4, 2002 to now, almost everything about my life has changed: where I live, what I do, who I now, how I feel, even how I look. But my very intense, constant relationship with the TTC endures.

Of course, my vehemence about transit is a lifelong trait. When I lived in Montreal, I was largely a pedestrian, but I had STCUM thoughts, even when I was just on the metro occasionally, and the summer when I had to take the 80 bus every day for work, those thoughts rose to a passion. When I lived in Hamilton, I was really in a little rural village, and almost never able to access HSR. Instead, my #TransitFeelings were centred on the school bus that I took every day from kindergarten until the end of grade 13 (we were a one-car family at that time, and also I failed my driving exam a number of times). In fact, the very first “publication” of my writing was an essay I wrote about my school bus in grade nine, which won a prize in the school literary contest and was published in the festival booklet. FAME!

Actually, now that I think about it, I took a van that drove kids to and from my nursery school (can you imagine if such a thing existed in Toronto??) and once I went an absolute sobbing meltdown because they altered the usual route without warning.

So I guess I care a lot about transit and have had rather a long (38 years??) of daily experience with it–it’s a real chicken-and-egg situation.

Anyway, this post is supposed to be about me and the TTC, not all that other stuff, which is really just background. I thought to celebrate this anniversary I could rank all my favourite buses in the city, but it’s still really hard to play favourites–buses do different things for me in different times and places, and obviously evoke different #TransitFeelings (is this hashtag going to catch on? I so want it to). So here are just some bus routes I’ve spent a lot of time on and thought a lot about. I rarely ride the streetcar and apparently have almost no feelings about it at all–sorry!

25 Don Mills–One of my first Toronto buses, a no-nonsense bus that zips north and is always intensely crowded. The Duff bus of the east. Often you can’t even hold your book far enough from your face to read it, or at least this was the case back in the day, which was why I didn’t like it, but the 25 generally did what it was supposed to do–even during 2003 blackout, it got me home at my usual time, while most people I know were stuck or walking for hours. I used to take it in the pre-dawn and there would often be an elderly Asian woman on it giving herself an intense facial massages. I must have accumulated hours watching that woman. No idea what her deal was.

122 Graydon Hall–I don’t know what or where Graydon Hall is, but the 122 is the bus to the old Harlequin offices, before they moved downtown, and my first busable job in the city. I met many people I’m still friends with on that bus or at the stop, because there certainly was time to kill there. Simply didn’t come when it rained. There’s an enormous hill on York Mills that the bus could not easily surmount in icy weather–it was a strange sensation to look up from my book and feel this enormous vehicle straining and wallowing, but not going anywhere.

54 and 54A Lawrence East–two very different buses–interchangable in the short haul, but the latter will take you to the eastern edge of the city, where Scarborough meets the lake (and Pickering) in a long, arduous slog that takes forever. It’s just city-city-city for so long, and then you go over a rise and see this wall of blue looming up in the distance, and that’s Lake Ontario. There is also a 54E (E buses are Express), which I have never managed to take–I’ve never managed to take any E bus, in 18 years. A 54 driver asked me out once as we drove along. It was awkward.

34A and 34C Eglinton East–a nice, frequent bus line, swift and true. In one of their meaner stunts, the TTC actually switched the destinations of the 34A and 34C–the C used to be the straight shot from Eglinton East to Kennedy, and the A didn’t go all the way, and then at some point in the last few years they swapped. I was VERY surprised the first time that happened while I was on the bus. I lived on Eglinton for years and one summer during a heatwave I spent the evening on a 34C just for the air-conditioning, riding back and forth, reading my book. I imagine these buses will be obviated by the new Eglinton Light Rail if it ever comes online, and I’ll be sorry to see them go.

900 Airport Rocket–I swear this used to be numbered something else, but ok. I have no interest in the UPExpress because I find it confusing and it costs more–I just leave early and take the Rocket if it’s running. People on this bus tend to be VERY anxious, but it’s also an exciting bus and sometimes it has one of those jokey drivers who tell you the cruising height and to return your tray tables to the upright position. I’ve gone all over the world starting from the Airport Rocket–Japan, England, Costa Rica. It’s a good first leg of a journey. It’s also a rare bus that goes on the highway–it feels zoomy.

52 Lawrence West–I was working shifts while I was taking this bus and it was before bus-tracker apps (which are all lies anyway) and a lot of things went wrong. I didn’t last in that role long enough to figure out if it was my fault or the route or just that time of day on the TTC in general. I remember standing outside shaking in the cold and the bus just didn’t come and watching the sun rise pink and orange.

32 Eglinton West–The bus I took when I was teaching, probably the most exhausting job I’ve ever had. The 32 Eg doesn’t go to the airport but you can see the airport from it–that’s how far west it goes/I went, and in rush hour coming home, it took forever. I can sleep easily and happily on buses, and often do if I know I have a long way to go, but once I woke up on the 32 to some of my students sitting behind me whispering to each other “Is she sleeping?”

99 Arrow Rd–This is something of an artificial bus, and I took it for artificial reasons–all the others on this list were part of my life for a while because they took me to work or school or to visit someone I like, but I rode the 99 purely as a transit tourist. And the 99 doesn’t exist because there is demand from riders but as a service to TTC drivers, getting them to and from the main bus garage near Jane and Finch. There used to be a note on all TTC maps that “all buses connect to the subway line, except route 99” and wondered what the deal was–what was so special about route 99? So I spent an afternoon riding round and round and found out about the garage. Not really special, but I wrote a short story as if it was. The TTC featured in my first two books a lot–the most recent wasn’t set here and people mainly got around in cars, which was weird for me.

5 Avenue Road–This was one of my routes to University of Toronto during grad school. It was the most direct route but one I could only take if I had the luxury of time, because it didn’t come very often–it was faster to take the subway and then walk. It was a luxury route overall because it went through a ritzy neighbourhood and was never very crowded (I don’t think rich people take the bus a lot). I loved looking at the fancy houses, especially in the evenings all lit up. The holiday season on the 5 was the prettiest.

17 Birchmount–My longest and most intense bus relationship. Everything has happened on this bus–fights; a dog in a wheelchair (like a wheelchair designed for a dog!); tears (never mine, I don’t think); a person with a tattoo of a rabbit wearing sunglasses with the word YOLO spelling out using the the lenses of the sunglasses as the Os; a child named Rebecca who was misbehaving and got yelled at; every kind of disturbing behaviour (I think there’s a drug treatment facility a bit north of my stop); a couple I know distantly met on that bus, fell in love, and later won a free wedding on radio station with that story; the only time I’ve encountered someone in the wild reading my work; people yelling into their cellphones about custody battles and one time, describing a knife fight at the Future Shop (remember Future Shop?). I’ve walked most of this route in a rage and the burning sun when it didn’t come, been late for almost everything I attend regularly at least once because of the 17. I’ve taken this bus carrying a cake, a raspberry bush, an empty cardboard box, a shovel, sacks of books. I’ve been on this bus when it’s broken down, stalled, hit another bus. I have almost vomited on this bus several times but never actually vomited on it. The schedule is in constant disarray, they pulled out all the stop poles and demolished the shelters, but the 17ers know and respect each other. I’ve been seeing the same people so regularly on the bus for so long, sometimes I’ll see one out in the world, in a store or restaurant, and be halfway to saying hi before I realize I don’t know them.