And what have we learned after 52 weeks?

I mean, I was already doing this for several years. I just was not taking so many notes about it because it did not feel necessary to me.

The whole thing — writing about living in a mid-sized city without the burden of a car — got started like most things: on a whim. Some random stranger on the Internet thought he was coming to educate me about how it is not possible to be car-free in New England because it snows in the winter.

I could’ve simply responded to his idiotic remark by explaining that I had made it through more than one or two winters already, thank you very much, but what I know is that for every person willing to leave a not-so-thought-out comment, there are many, many silent lurkers who would also benefit from schooling. And I’m sure not all of those lurkers are set on trolling. They just do not know.

Instead of posting the occasional tweet about some transportation-related thing, I compiled my thoughts each week only slightly more organized than I would in my actual diary (where I rarely write about my commute because that’s not what I need to think out loud about with an audience of me).

I was writing none of this for me. I already knew the basics: how to dress for the weather, how to ride the bus, how to assume that nobody driving is paying any attention and that no amount of hi-vis clothing would lure them away from their bullshit habits whether those are texting or only looking left before turning right on red.

I knew that unless there was some kind of major disruption, the trains and buses would serve me just fine.

I’d been vocal for awhile, telling people — organizations, really — that the reason I did not attend their event was because it was held at a place and/or at a time when those using public transportation could not attend. No, I will not just take a cab. I haven’t been shy about letting businesses and non-profits know that it’s unacceptable to post long driving and parking directions, while not so much as mentioning the location of their bike rack or the nearest bus lines.

I was not writing this for others who were biking or walking, taking the bus or the train regularly. While you all were reading and sharing the posts (thank you!), the intended audience was those who rarely, if ever, move around outside of a private motor vehicle.

Before I had freed myself of car ownership, I struggled to imagine how someone could get around without one — even though I knew that many of my neighbors were surviving. That’s the advantage of living in an urban area: not having the ability to pretend as if nobody can live without a car. It happens right there in front of you.

I knew how people could get their kids to school. I live near a school. Kids walk there.
I knew how people could get to work. Our transit systems are unfortunately designed as if a 9-5 work commute is the only thing someone might want a bus for. I knew people who took the bus to and from work. The bus stops are right there.

I was curious how someone could go to the woods for a hike or get their groceries. How do you have a social life? Date? Participate in your workplace’s equivalent of Secret Santa?

I tried, over this year, to demystify this for those who are lacking in imagination and experience.

If people can visualize something, it erodes one more of their lazy excuses for not doing that thing. I hope that judgment does burn a little. If I had understood how absolutely fine it is to get around car-free, I likely would have sold my car years earlier.

From December 2021 – December 2022, I wrote about walking home alone at night, traveling on often unshoveled and unsalted sidewalks during winter, the total fuckup with CTtransit service during the summer, and the communication fuckup by CTrail when it reduced train service also during travel season.

I wrote about the absolutely depraved way motorists behave. I wrote about how glib leaders are despite their inaction when it comes to reducing street violence.

I wrote about running into friends during commutes, traveling to sportsball and the theater by bus, schlepping plants on the train.

Additionally, I was writing about staycation travel via train and bus.

T

his is not something I expected many people to be reading, but week after week, you all returned in numbers, including on holidays when there is usually a dip in readership. I guess this was more interesting than forcing yourself to talk to Great Aunt Maude over turkey.

I know part of this is because I do not sugarcoat. Sometimes biking is a complete joy, and sometimes it feels like being about to die on the top of a hill that you took because that road had less car traffic to contend with. Sometimes walking to work means finding cool art and petting (with your eyes) a bitey-looking dachshund, and sometimes it means getting cussed out for daring attempt to use a marked crosswalk at an elementary school. It’s the delight of people at the bus stop, utterly thrilled that bus fares continue to be suspended, and it’s passing shrine-after-shrine marking the sites where people were needlessly killed by lousy road and vehicle design.

The 52 weeks are up.

The question is always: what next?

I won’t be doing weekly diary entries, but I will publish shorter focused pieces, as needed.

I’m also changing the weekly guessing game to only monthly, dropping the Sense Hartford series, and aiming to write about more local topics once I’m not so tied to certain weekly commitments. I’ve also been doing a biweekly column elsewhere and want to make sure that nothing I’m doing here or there is half-assed. The next few weeks will probably be light because I am in planning mode and because I deserve a damn break.

Here is everything from the Car-Free Diaries series: