Yellow Tent Adventures

Hardly a day goes by that I don’t walk somewhere in our neighborhood. Walk to the grocery store. Walk to the library. Walk to light rail. Walk to a friend’s house. Walk to take a walk. And hardly a walk goes by that I don’t run in to someone and have a conversation … almost so much so that sometimes I walk off the beaten path to get lost in my own thoughts.

The other day was such a day that I wanted nothing more than to walk in my own space and soak in atmosphere. The dry summer heat had turned to cloud cover for a day or two, and as much as I am a sun seeker, the ch’i in the air was refreshing my body and soul.

So I walked to the Red Apple to pick up some wine for dinner and took a right instead of a left when I walked out of the parking lot. I was ready to wonder and my feet took me West towards the view overlook park. Student drivers cautiously gave me plenty of room as we both rounded the bend in the road where the sidewalk ends before the park begins. The park is usually a solitary place especially mid-morning on a weekday, but there in my favorite spot to sit and breathe in the city was a man and his bicycle. A twinge of disappointment darted into my heart.

As I approached, the man turned and smiled a genuine smile. We exchanged hellos before he said, Do you want to hear a poem? Yes. I answered matter-of-factly.

I stood beside the bench looking out across the city, Elliott Bay and beyond to the Olympics touched with mist.  Heavy sculpted clouds filled the sky, he read:

This is not a day for asking questions,
not a day on any calendar.
This day is conscious of itself.
This day is a lover, bread, and gentleness,
more manifest than saying can say.

The longer he read the more my heart filled with the ache of words mixing freely with the beauty before me. Swelling with love for this place, I listened to these words by mystic poet Rumi.

Spring, and everything outside is growing
even the tall cypress tree.
We must not leave this place.
Around the lip of the cup we share, these words,

My Life Is Not Mine
If someone were to play music, it would have to be very sweet.
We’re drinking wine, but not through lips.
We’re sleeping it off, but not in bed.
Rub the cup across your forehead.
This day is outside living and dying.

Give up wanting what other people have.
That way you’re safe.
“Where, where can I be safe?” you ask.

This is not a day for asking questions,
not a day on any calendar.
This day is conscious of itself.
This day is a lover, bread, and gentleness,
more manifest than saying can say.

Thoughts take form with words,
but this daylight is beyond and before
thinking and imagining. Those two,
they are so thirsty, but this gives smoothness
to water. Their mouths are dry, and they are tired.

…

By the time he finished, I released the deep breath with a somber, wow.  He laughed a nervous laugh of two people caught unsuspecting in an intimate moment. He said he felt the same way.

I never know what will happen on a walk, but I’m glad this happened. Thank you for reading the poem… I mustered hardly holding back tears.

Thank you for wanting to hear a poem, he simply said.

I smiled and walked away. Any more words between us would break a spell — this exquisite moment shared between strangers in a park on Beacon Hill. Magic can happen on any given day.

I’m already getting inquiries from folks asking … is anybody responding to your open letter?

The answer is yes.

Richard Conlin (Seattle City Council) was the first to reply. He has given up his car for 5 or 6 days at a time. He is a true bicycle advocate who pedals the talk. Go for a week or more Richard!

Norman Sigler (candidate for Seattle Mayor) gave up his car 3 years ago and donated it to KPLU!

Brian Carver (candidate for Seattle City Council position #4) has given up his car for long stretches, but has vowed to give it up for a week again … soon. Even asked me to check back with him on that promise.

Dorsol Plants (candidate for Seattle City Council position #4) gave up his car in 2007 AND won the Candidate Survivor!

Sally Clark (Seattle City Council) sent a long and thoughtful reply. Not yet ready to take the carfree week plunge.  I see her sans car pedaling around my neighborhood all the time. Go for a week Sally!!

Mike McGinn (candidate for Seattle Mayor) let me know that he has a car but rarely uses it. You may have seen the stickers around town “Mike Bikes.” But I think even Mike McGinn could learn from having no access to a car for a week. How about it Mike?

Tom Rasmussen (Seattle City Council) didn’t respond personally, but a staff member did. She let me know that many city staffers have given up their cars. Good trend. Maybe they can convince Tom to do so … for just a week.

Richard McIver (Seattle City Council) won’t be taking up the challenge. But I admire that he took the time to respond.  He lives in the Seward Park neighborhood which isn’t well served by public transit.  He hopes that one or more of his colleagues will take me up on my challenge.

Mayor Nickels–give it up. Seattle City Council members. You too. As well as King County Council members, Governor Gregoire, State representatives and ALL candidates for the above offices.

I’m talking about your car. For a week. Just a week.

You see, my wife and I answered the call to help the region and the planet by giving up our car over four years ago. With climate change upon us, it was imperative that we transition out of our auto-centric society. Get on the bus. Get on our bikes. Get out and walk.

There were plenty of incentive programs offered by our city and county governments, including the Way to Go Seattle–One Less Car Challenge. We took advantage of the Washington State Vehicle Redistribution Program … our car was stolen. We opted not to replace it.

We were in a good position to give up our car. We don’t have kids. We live on Beacon Hill with frequent bus service (and now Light Rail). We have stores, restaurants, a library, and a park all within a ten minute walking distance of our house. We both do most of our work from home.

Easy.

OK. Walking up the hill from the grocery store with a 20lb Thanksgiving turkey in an excursion-size backpack wasn’t easy. Waiting outside in a 40 degree drizzle for a bus that never came wasn’t fun. And taking 4 buses and a ferry to get to Sequim wasn’t convenient.

It didn’t take long to understand that for someone who owns a private vehicle, our city and region’s public transportation, bike paths and pedestrian corridors are top notch. Because when it isn’t easy, fun or convenient … you take your car.

When I joined the ranks of the carless, I began an education in how auto-centric our green little region is, and how far we have to go to get to be a truly livable place … for everyone.

How many of my neighbors park their cars across the sidewalk. How cracked and poorly maintained those sidewalks are. How fast the cars fly by on our residential streets. How few cars yield to me in a cross walk. How few bike racks there are outside the businesses I frequent. How poorly signed (or not at all) the bike routes are throughout the city. How terrifying biking can be in downtown Seattle. How little park space we have downtown and how much space we devote to parking.

So many issues and problems invisible to me while driving in my own personal vehicle.

Now I’m asking you all to give up your car. Not for four years. Just seven days.

For seven days live the life that few have chosen and many have no choice but to live.

Believe me, no matter how long you have lived in or served this region, you’ll learn things that will surprise you.

I know I did. And I’ve lived here for 25 years.

The best decisions about transit and neighborhood planning will be made by government officials who have taken the time to live a life without a car as an option.

Give it up.

We’ll all be glad you did.

Sincerely,

Willie Weir
Beacon Hill, Seattle

April 22, 2005 the experiment begins.

Our 1980-something Subaru wagon served us well. I bought the wagon because the back was just long enough for us to sleep in, should the need arise. But in 2005 we went carless thanks to the Washington State Vehicle Redistribution Act. It was stolen. When it was discovered in a supermarket parking lot about 20 miles from home, it was cleaner than when we drove it, and the seat was tilted into low-rider position. It must be challenging to look cool in a car favored by middle-aged, white, urban dwellers.

Our road trip of the American Southwest was a fitting last car adventure.

Our Subaru was also sporting a leaking head gasket, so we decided on April 22, 2005 to donate it for good to a better cause.

That began our carfree life together. In my wildest dreams I could not have predicted that four years later we would still be carless. I wish I would have blogged my painful challenges to this lifestyle. Willie would have blogged a different story, and there you, dear reader, would have the fullest picture.

I still struggle with the carless lifestyle from time-to-time, and Willie still celebrates the freedom it brings. In four years we have both embraced mobility via foot, bicycle and mass transit. We’ve met neighbors walking our neighborhood, rubbed shoulders on buses with people we otherwise would not meet, and pedaled to dinner parties in fancy clothes.

In this blog, we hope to share with you the joys, frustrations, humor, pain, insights, wisdom, discoveries, and hope for better communities  living by foot, bike and transit.