Instead of screaming into the void of Twitter, I bring you a weekly highlight reel of what it’s like going places in Greater Hartford when one is gloriously car-free. These posts are on a slight time delay because nobody needs to know exactly where I am when I am there.

Normally, when I have a free ticket (thanks Hartford Public Library!) to Hartford Stage, I walk. It’s not that far — somewhere in the 30-45 minute range depending on which route I take and what I get distracted by on the way. With one of the Masked & Vaxxed performances of Kiss My Aztec scheduled for a Saturday afternoon, I got caught up in gardening and decided it was too damn hot to move at the speed necessary to get there on time (on time for me is early) so I walked two blocks and flagged down the big blue free limo, which got me to within two blocks of the theater. No trying to figure out parking or waiting in a line of cars.

[Don’t believe the cranky critics; the play is worth seeing. Two hours of low-brow humor has more cultural impact than two years of a furrowed brow. Haters can fucketh off.]

When the show was over, I walked myself home and was probably halfway back before the last visitor exited the parking garage.

Smug? Hell yeah. What part of this aren’t we getting?!
Free theater ticket with a Hartford library card.
Free transportation to (and from, if I wanted it) the event.
No parking charges.
No annoyance of idling in the parking line going in or leaving.

These cultural venues should really be promoting public transportation. It’s easy to use, and the savings could be used on intermission cocktails.

TRAINS TRAINS TRAINS

I knew this was coming. We all did, if we were paying attention. There were signs, memos. Information was leaked.

The day has come: the good entrance to Hartford’s train tracks is closed. This means having to step foot inside Union Station to access the enclosed stairs or elevator. Once on the platform, you can see they’re doing more than just repairing that one staircase. What are they doing? No clue. But it’s meant closing one whole side of the platform, which creates quite the bottleneck getting on/off the train. The side that’s open is right next to the tracks and it feels a little too close for comfort. If I had young children I’d probably be putting one of those animal backpack harness leash things on them about now.

[I did a search. I got a clue. Oh, FFS. Here’s what’s on the way. It’s not pretty. It throws a wrench in those summer plans, which is what one gets for daring to plan.]

That’s not the only new sight in this area. There’s also the recently damaged fence. Based on the size and shape of the damage, it’s obvious the cause. I’d look this up using Hartford’s own public safety database, but that hasn’t been updated since May.

A few days later, some funky paint was added to the existing marked crosswalk at this intersection, between the parking lot and ArtSpace.

It’s pretty. I don’t know if the color contrast is high enough for those with low vision, but if it isn’t, I’m sure there are ways to adjust the current design.

If nothing else, it draws the eye to how stupidly wide the street is by city’s major transit hub. Is there a reason we don’t have a raised median and bike lanes on either side? Impeding the flow of traffic isn’t a reason.

What was I doing by the train station, besides that I can happen to walk by it a few times every week for no reason?

Last week, sooner than expected, I began doing the research, such as it is, for a special #BeyondHartfordBeyondCars series. I’ve sporadically published Beyond Hartford pieces here, highlighting places I find interesting, and which are often not part of giant tourism campaigns. There are 6-8 places I’m attempting to visit in the next few months — some I’ve seen before, others not. Or rather, this was the plan before I found out the train would be replaced by bus, and now I’m rethinking everything. Everything.

Wallingford was first on the list because it felt like an easy place to start. Why easy? I don’t know. That’s something I might explore when I write about it, and this is not that.

What happened was that on Friday morning, even though we were warned what was very likely to happen, even though I’d considered this a real possibility for years, the Supreme Court ruling was, I want to say like a bomb going off, but it was more than that. Perhaps this is not true anymore, but if you were a girl growing up in the 80s and 90s, you probably received messaging that the worst thing that could happen to you, aside from murder, is rape. SCOTUS overturning Roe v. Wade felt and feels like an assault. There are many valid reasons to have an abortion, but I want to really spell out how disgusting it is that there are powerful people who think it’s totally cool to strip even more bodily control from those who have been sexually assaulted.

As you can imagine, after being told that legally — depending on which state I’m in — I have fewer rights than fetal tissue that’s no bigger than my fingernail. . . my attention span was shot for the day. I could fake work like many did, or I could take a half day. So, with the news making me sick, that’s what I did, and I set out for the train station because if I could preoccupy myself with experiencing something different, I would not be reading a steady stream of bad news and rage all day. I’d already been feeling burned out for a few months as it was, because that’s what happens when you report on how fully formed adult humans are killed needlessly in traffic deaths, and those with power locally don’t care enough to make the significant changes that would reduce the number of deaths and injuries. Does it involve guns? Cars? Thoughts and prayers. Aborting a fetus? Stop everything.

So, Wallingford.

It was weird being the only person to get off the train at the stop, and again, the only person to board in the evening, though there were a handful of passengers arriving to town from New Haven later.

What I should’ve known yet hadn’t thought about was how car-centric Wallingford is. If you want to find the parking lot, there’s wayfinding for that at the station. Do people only go to Wallingford to find a parking lot? Do you not want to direct folks toward at least your town center?

What I learned was that there is no sidewalk on one side of North Cherry Street between the train station and the road that runs through the center of town. There’s also not a painted crosswalk going from the station to across the road where the sidewalk is, which I thought was weird. Do people not walk around in Wallingford? Are they willing to walk several minutes in the wrong direction to reach a crosswalk? Do they jaywalk? Take the noisier street? It’s not like this is on the outskirts of town. It’s within a ten minute walk of restaurants. Are visitors expected to walk on the street on the other side of the station to go to those restaurants, and if so, how would we know without signs urging us that way? Did I miss all the signs? Please tell me if I did.

When I walked into the center, I was entertained by the inconsistent road stuff. If the intersection had a pedestrian light, it also sounded an alarm that could probably even be heard over the louder car stereos. Of course, with manufacturers soundproofing cars, who knows.

I had a laugh at the benches placed directly next to the street. Do people use these? Who wants to be this close to traffic, with their backs turned? The flower buckets were lovely though. I’m looking at this design and feeling like the flower trough could have been placed in the street, with the bench on the sidewalk right behind it, so there’s at least a buffer. But that would mean taking away parking and I got the sense that this would shake people to their core. From the train, you can see how much land is given over to car dealerships and automotive industries, right by the train station. All I could think was how there is opportunity for housing being squandered.

I was struck by how few people I saw walking around. Granted, it was a muggy weekday afternoon, but go to any city and you’ll see people about. In my walk from the station to a park — about ten minutes — I passed only two other people walking or biking, and one was a postal carrier. Turns out, everyone was walking at the park. Drive in, and walk. Cringe. There were a few more people using the sidewalks later in the day, but it was still surprisingly quiet, and that’s even with South Main Street closed to cars for some sort of event that I don’t know what it was but the annoying pack of teens throwing rocks at each other and riding bikes too close to patio tables said it was a Simon Says competition. I could look it up, but let’s just go with their version of events. [Fine, I couldn’t help myself. I looked it up, and you guys, those kids weren’t just making shit up.]

Have you ever wondered what happens if you’re about to cross the street and the “OMG A TRAIN IS COMING” chimes go off and the arms start coming down? I’ve wondered, and now I know.

I’m proud to say that I did not pee myself.

The bells, or whatever you want to call that sound, begins a few seconds before the arms start coming down, and they begin slowly. . . which I never noticed until I was there, and had time — like a split second — to decide if I was going to be stupid or smart.

I’m also proud to say that I chose to take a few steps back and wait rather than risk tripping or getting my foot caught or having any other number of disastrous missteps happen to me, causing my untimely demise.

The point is: there’s an at-grade crossing directly next to a bar!!! Bold move.

And a few days later, I was back on the train, going toward the coast where it would be cooler than Hartford. Did I wanna stand around on pavement where it would be in the 90s, or go to New Haven and admire its rain gardens and high number of shade trees? No contest.

Okay, which one of you did this?

Since getting new next door neighbors after having none (on one side) for a few years, I’ve been adding houseplants for a little privacy and just to have more nature in my life.

(This is not a sign for anyone to send me plants. I repeat: do not send me unsolicited plants. I choose how many plants, if any at all, I would like to keep alive. Other people do not have the right to make this decision on my behalf.)

So, here’s another answer to the ongoing “how do you buy stuff when you don’t have a car” question. To date, I have obtained plants by:

  • asking a friend with a truck to help me get a bunch from a garden place that’s neither on a bus route nor in a place with sidewalks (looking at you, West Hartford)
  • grabbing some on my way home from a vacation last summer when I had a rental car for a few days
  • biking them home attached to the rack and nestled inside my basket and panniers
  • walking them home from where they’ve been handed to me
  • ordering online and having them delivered; this includes a tree from Arbor Day Foundation
  • and now, carrying one home by train

I didn’t take the train just to get a plant, but now that I know a store sells houseplants close to the State Street station, that’ll be a required stop next time I’m down there and have decided to expand my indoor nature sprawl.

TAKE YOUR OWN ADVICE

Wasn’t I just saying something about making sure the platform you’re waiting on is the one where your train is arriving? I blame the heat for reading “track one,” making mental note of it, going to track four, and watching as the train I wanted to take rolled away before I could possibly make it up and over to the other side. It’s fine. I got myself lunch and then returned, triple-checking the schedule and where I was waiting.

WHAT’S NEXT

Tired of feeling like your concerns are dismissed? Me too.
Put July 11 on your calendar. Come to Bushnell Park to picnic, listen to live jazz, and strategize.