3C
THE DAILY ASTORIAN • FRIDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2016
PUBLIC TRANSIT BUS ODYSSEY
oyster. I asked for a small. I went with The Carib-
bean — lime, fresh cilantro and olive oil.
I added a couple of shakes of Tabasco. I asked
how I should eat it. The owner said to really get
the fresh oyster taste, give it a couple of chomps,
then down the hatch. It was really good. I am
looking forward to the next time I am in South
Bend and can have at least half a dozen.
Riding from Parkland
to Ocean Park, Wash.,
for just $6.25
By STEVEN KVAMME
For EO Media Group
In 1989 my father, Olaf Kvamme, made a bus
journey from his home just north of Seattle to
Paciic Beach, which is located 20 miles north
of Ocean Shores, Washington. He wrote an arti-
cle on the trip which the Seattle Times published
under the title “On the Buses: From Seattle to
the Sea for Just $1.55.” I always thought I would
like to complete a similar journey. Coming from
a frugal extended family I decided to wait until I
turned 65 so I could get the senior fares. I have
now completed that trip.
O
n Thursday morning, Aug. 25, I made my
way to 112th and Golden Given in Park-
land. The Pierce Transit, Route 4 bus was
on its way from Pierce College-Puyallup to the
Lakewood Mall Transit Center. At 7:59 a.m. it
stopped for me, I stepped on, paid my $1 senior
fare, and found an empty seat. There were seven
passengers already on the bus. Six of those seven
were gazing intently at the screen of their phone
or tablet. The seventh looked like she was asleep.
None seemed to care, or even notice, that I had
boarded their bus. This would be the shortest leg
of my journey. In 12 quick minutes we were at
the State Route 512 Park and Ride and I got off.
I would next be riding an Intercity Transit bus
to Olympia. Noticing that an Intercity bus was
already at the Park and Ride I was reassured. I
found the location to board the Intercity and after
several minutes the bus moved from where it
had been waiting and pulled up to the loading
zone. Several of us boarded the bus and I paid
my $1.25 fare. A few minutes later the bus left.
Something did not feel right. We picked up more
passengers at the nearby Lakewood Station and
were again on our way. It was then that I real-
ized what had been bothering me. I went to the
front of the bus and picked up the Intercity Tran-
sit Guide. I igured out that I had boarded the
8:22 Route 609 instead of the Route 603 at 8:30.
The bus I was now on did not stop at the Olym-
pia Transit Center where I need to make my next
connection! Was my glorious journey about to
end prematurely?
I told the driver about my problem and asked
about the closest stop to the Transit Center. He
answered 3½ blocks. The person sitting in the
row behind me explained that she had also made
the same mistake. The driver suggested that
instead of walking the 3½ blocks we get off at
an earlier stop and take Olympia’s free Dash
Bus which serves the capital area to downtown.
It would drop us off right at the Transit Center.
He was very attentive to us and gave us all the
details needed. His reassurance made us feel that
all was not lost.
I spent the rest of that trip talking of past bus
trips with my fellow mistake prone rider. We
each caught the Dash and made it to our trans-
fer point with time to spare. The experience had
the extra positive of adding one more bus route
to my trip.
Scenic back roads
Grays Harbor Transit operates the next leg
of the journey. Route 40 took me from Olympia
to Aberdeen Station. At $2.50, it was the most
expensive of the trip. Early in this route we went
past Capitol Lake which brought back memories
of many Lakefair 10K runs I had participated in
the past. The bus then headed out Harrison Ave-
nue toward Mud Bay where I ran with the Capi-
tol City Marathon Training Group in preparation
for marathons in 1989 and 1990.
I was puzzled upon reading that there are 62
stops on this route. It took only a short while to
decide that it must be 31 stops each way. There
are seven stops listed on Highway 8 between
Mud Bay and McCleary. Driving down that
highway at 55 mph it was hard to imagine the bus
stopping for a passenger. During a short stop at
McCleary Station I asked the driver about these
stops. He replied, “They are not really stops, but
you can lag down the bus.”
I asked how this is done. He said, “You need
to be standing on a long straight stretch, at an
intersection, with room for the bus to pull over.
Wave your hands like crazy as soon as you see
the bus. Most people wave a white cap or some-
thing else that is easy to see.”
I next asked how often this happens. “Maybe
once or twice per trip. Most of the people who
lag down the bus are regulars, so we know
where to look for them.”
No new passengers boarded in McCleary.
A few did get on or off at marked stops as the
bus made its way through Elma, Satsop, Brady
and Montesano. Although these towns are only
a short distance from the main highway, I do not
recall ever driving through them, with the excep-
tion of Montesano. On my next car trip to the
ocean I think I’ll take the bus route. I liked it.
Via Astoria
A daylong bus trip ended with toes in the sands of Surfside.
After leaving Montesano we reentered the
main highway, which at this point is Highway
12. We inally made our one and only lag stop.
And sure enough the passenger was waving a
white cap.
No Goodwill, but great tortas
I had been planning on getting off the bus
at the Aberdeen Walmart in the Gateway Plaza
shopping center. There is a Goodwill next to
the Walmart, and I never pass a Goodwill with-
out stopping. Imagine my horror when the bus
did not pull into the shopping center. I reread
the schedule to see that the bus only stops at the
Walmart east bound. No west bound stop.
My plan had been to spend part of the two-
hour layover shopping at the Goodwill. Now I
had to change my plans and spend the entire two
hours eating.
Before the trip I had researched eating estab-
lishments that were within walking distance of
the Aberdeen Transit Center. There were sev-
eral fast food places, one that seemed similar to
a Denny’s, and a couple of higher-end eateries.
There was also La Salvadoreña. Just a short
two blocks from the Transit Center, this Salva-
doran/Mexican restaurant appeared to be my
kind of place. These phrases from Yelp reviews
made me start to salivate: Good traditional Salva-
doran food, Prices are extremely reasonable, The
food is incredibly tasty, Great service. One inal
phrase which would be a negative for most peo-
ple, but is a positive for me: Bland atmosphere.
When I walked up to the counter to order,
I saw a vat of complimentary pickled carrots,
onions and peppers. I knew I had chosen wisely.
Although I knew I would love the tacos, burri-
tos, tamales, or tortas on the menu, I had decided
I wanted Salvadoran. After looking the menu
over I decided on the #5 Combination Plate. It
consisted of arroz (rice), frijoles (beans), cur-
tido (coleslaw), and two pupusas. Pupusas are
homemade corn tortillas stuffed with cheese and
one or more meats or vegetables. I ordered one
chicharron and queso (pork and cheese) and one
pollo and queso (chicken and cheese.) The com-
bination plate was a great bargain at only $5.49. I
illed a small bowl with pickled carrots and pep-
pers to snack on while waiting for the main meal.
The meal arrived in about ive minutes. Every-
thing was delicious! The pork and cheese pupusa
and the rice were particularly outstanding! I’m
sure I will be back again.
Before leaving, I went up to the counter to ask
where I could ind the nearest free Wi-Fi access.
They were unable to answer, but a friendly cus-
tomer suggested the nearby Jack in the Box. I did
not feel comfortable using their service without
ordering something, so I got a chicken sandwich
and a Diet Coke.
Like many people my age or older, I suffer
from the need to urinate frequently. This was
always my biggest worry about the journey I was
now less than half way through. My normal rou-
tine is to start each day with some caffeine. Most
people have a cup or two of coffee. I have never
cared for the taste of coffee, so I start my day
with an ice cold Diet Mountain Dew. In prepa-
ration for the trip I had stopped drinking any liq-
uids at midday on Wednesday. I’d had only a
few swallows of water up to this point in the day.
Although I knew the Diet Coke was a diuretic, it
sure tasted good! I would have to spend the next
hour seeing how little of it I could drink.
I sipped my Diet Coke as slowly as I could,
and nibbled at my chicken sandwich as I read
the morning Tacoma News Tribune on my note-
book. My next bus was scheduled to leave at 1
p.m., so at 12:45 I left the Jack in the Box. I felt
real pride as I poured more than half my bever-
age into the garbage.
At 1 p.m. there was no bus. 1:05, 1:10, 1:15
still no bus. During all of this time an elderly
woman was talking to her dog in a small pet car-
rier. At least I think she was talking to her dog.
The thing is, the dog never made a sound. There
may have been nothing in the pet carrier.
Paciic County bound
Finally at 1:18 p.m., the Paciic Transit, Route
14 bus to Raymond arrived. Paciic Transit offers
the best fares of any of the four transit systems
that were part of my journey. They charge $0.50
for long routes and $0.35 for shorter routes. I
would be taking two longs and two shorts. I
asked for a Day Pass and dropped $1.50 into the
box. Good planning had saved me $0.20. I trav-
eled on Paciic Transit for about 110 miles. This
portion of my journey cost just over one cent
(137 cents total) per mile.
The fact that the bus was 18 minutes late
caused me to rethink my plans. My original
schedule called for a 50-minute layover in Ray-
mond. I had planned to use that time to make a
quick stop at Raymond’s Carriage Museum. This
no longer was an option. I would just wait and
decide what to do once I reached Raymond.
There were six passengers on this bus. A
young man sitting near me decided to have a one-
way conversation with me. In about one minute
I learned that he was 18 years old, he was having
a stressful day, his girlfriend was 23 weeks preg-
nant with his child, she went to prison earlier in
the day, he had recently got out of prison, he was
going to temporarily live with his drug-addicted
mother.
Luckily, at this point, the dog lady got inter-
ested in his story and they began a two-way con-
versation that lasted the length of the trip. I tried
not to listen, but at one point I could not help
notice that she said a ive-minute prayer for him
while holding his hand.
Just as we were entering Raymond the
driver was talking on his radio. He asked if any-
one wanted to immediately transfer to the bus
headed to South Bend. I said I did. He told the
other driver to wait until we got there. I made the
transfer and we were off. I missed out on visit-
ing Raymond, but now had 1 hour 40 minutes to
visit South Bend.
I irst visited Olson’s Thrift Shop. It made me
feel a little better after missing out on Goodwill
earlier in the day.
Next I walked a couple blocks down the road
to the Paciic County Museum run by the Paciic
County Historical Society. It is a small museum
that is rich in historical photographs. One of the
irst things I noticed was a long picture of a train
that ran on the South Bend rail line between Che-
halis and South Bend. The line operated between
1892 and 1954. My uncle, Dale Finley, came to
work on this line in the late 1940s or early 1950s.
His wife Esther, daughter Christine, and he lived
in Raymond. I have pictures taken in Raymond
from my irst birthday party in 1952 which was
celebrated with them at their residence.
Courthouse adventures
After leaving the museum, I walked up the
hill on Memorial Drive to the Paciic County
Courthouse. The Courthouse was completed
in 1911 and is well known for its stained glass
dome.
The dome was impressive, but what I really
appreciated was that the building was air condi-
tioned. It was a very warm day and after walking
up the hill I was hot and sweaty. I went up to the
second level and plopped myself down in one of
the many great old wood and leather chairs.
I had been sitting there for about 10 minutes
when someone in business dress went past me,
down a short hallway, and into a room. In the
next couple minutes several more went past. I
heard some metal clanging and look up. I saw a
man that looked to be in his 60s with chains on
his wrists and ankles. He was walking straight
towards me. He was wearing a full body jump-
suit that looked almost fuzzy, including match-
ing booties. The most bizarre thing was the color
of the jumpsuit. It seemed to be a combination of
hot pink and bright orange. Take off the chains
and give him some loppy ears and he could have
been the Easter Bunny. An oficer was following
him. Just before he reached me he turned the cor-
ner, walked down the hallway, and entered the
same room as the rest of the people. I decided I
had seen enough of the courthouse.
Back down on the waterfront, I headed for the
Oyster Shack. I wasn’t hungry, but had been told
that this place was not to be missed. I’ve only
had oysters on the half shell twice before. Both
times I had to gag them down. I ordered a single
It was now 4:05 p.m. and time to begin the
longest leg of the journey. The Route 50 would
go through Naselle, over the Columbia River to
Astoria, and then back over the river to Ilwaco.
It was scheduled to take 1 hour and 45 minutes.
There were four of us on the bus including
the dog lady. I have to apologize to this lady. I
have no evidence that there was not a dog in the
pet carrier. Everything I heard her say, or saw her
do, leads me to believe she is a hard-working,
thoughtful and caring person.
The other two passengers were a man and a
woman that both looked to be in their 70s. I gath-
ered that they lived near each other and some-
times took outings together.
If you ride the bus there are a couple things
you should be aware of. The more people on the
bus, the smoother the ride will be. Sitting above
the rear axle is the bumpiest place on the bus. The
bus ride was a bumpy one for all of us. The fact
the couple sat in the last row on a nearly empty
bus made for a very bumpy ride for them. Each
time we would hit a bump the man would vocal-
ize his discomfort. Sometimes he would utter
a mild profanity. This continued to bother him
more and more. At one point he told me that he
had been involved in three helicopter crashes and
that this bus ride was worse than any of them.
When we reached Naselle the driver pulled
of the highway at the bus shelter. He stopped the
bus and told us that we would transfer to another
bus to inish the route. He expected it would take
about eight minutes for the second bus to arrive.
We all got off the bus to stretch our legs. I used
this opportunity to walk into the woods for a
natural break. After 20 minutes, the second bus
arrived.
We all took our seats in the new bus. The cou-
ple picked better seats this time. The original
driver handed some paperwork to the new driver.
The new driver gave a handful of Jolly Rancher
candies to him as he left. I was thinking it sure
would have been nice if he had shared them with
everyone.
Crossing the bridge into Astoria I could see a
lag man ahead. The bus driver saw him too and
picked up speed so there would be no gap with
the car in front of us. We made it past the lag-
ger and then passed ive large construction trucks
that were parked in the opposite lane. I counted
the cars waiting in line to cross into Washing-
ton. I could inally stop counting when I got to
87 cars. Who knows how long they had been
waiting?
After arriving at the Astoria Transit Center,
one boy, his two sisters, and their grandma were
about to get on the bus. The boy, who looked
to be about 3 years old, looked at me and said,
“You’re sitting in my seat.” Not wanting to cause
trouble, I move back to the next bench. This left
the irst bench, that faces sideways, on the door
side, available for the kids. The boy sat in the
middle with his 5 and 6 year old sisters on either
side of him. Grandma sat in the bench behind
me.
Before leaving the driver offers each kid a
Jolly Rancher. Now, I really was getting steamed.
Crossing the bridge back into Washington the
lagger, trucks, and construction workers were
gone. They must have gotten off work while we
were in town.
In Chinook, the driver dropped off a passen-
ger right at his house. The boy asked the driver
if he would drop them off at their house. The
driver said he did not know where they lived.
The kid asked his grandma where they lived. The
grandma said they lived in Washington. The girls
smiled, but the kid seemed satisied.
Upon arriving in Ilwaco, we were told that the
same bus would be used for Route 20. This would
be my last bus that would take me through Long
Beach and Ocean Park. It would inally drop me
off at the Surfside Inn. I was almost there.
The kids and grandma inally got off the bus
in Seaview. It turns out they were staying at a
motel just across the street. The driver did drop
them off at their house.
In Long Beach a group of about eight teen-
age boys got on the bus. They each had skate-
boards in their hands and each paid their $0.35
fare. Every few miles one or two would get off
the bus until inally they were all home.
I got off the bus for the inal time at the Surf-
side Inn. I walked over a wooden bridge across
a canal and then a half block down the road to a
condo that belongs to a good friend of mine. I
unlocked the door, went to the fridge, and popped
open an ice cold Diet Mountain Dew. I went out
the back door, walked down to the beach, and
took off my shoes.
As the Paciic Ocean water lapped over my
toes, I knew my journey had been a great success!
3 W AY S TO GE T
Y O U R CO PY
TOD AY !
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