Before college, I never really took public transportation. My town in suburban Maryland didn’t have a bus system, and I was lucky enough to have reliable access to cars—either a friend’s, my parents’, or the one I shared with my brother. At Cornell, I don’t have that luxury. Here, I have Tompkins County Area Transit (TCAT), the local bus system.
Most students have heard the horror stories: you try to go shopping and end up at the airport, or you find yourself in Collegetown instead of in class. Last semester, I relied on my friends to help me navigate the bus routes. But once second semester began and we all had different schedules, I realized I needed to figure out the bus system for myself or end up walking miles in the snow. After a few stressful experiences, I finally feel like a regular commuter—but I can’t forget the mishaps it took to get me here.
The first time I took the bus by myself, I didn’t understand how to ask the driver to let me off; I missed many a stop before I learned you have to pull the cord. (However, don’t pull it unless you’re 100 percent positive you’re where you want to be; I’ve gotten plenty of lectures from annoyed drivers.)
Another challenge was that I only knew my way around campus according to the quickest walking route. On my first solo ride, I checked with the driver to make sure we’d stop at Robert Purcell Community Center on North Campus. We drove around roads I still can’t name until we stopped and the driver turned around and looked at me expectantly; I had no idea we were behind RPCC. After an uncomfortably long minute, I realized where I was. As I ran off the bus, I tried to explain that I was just a confused freshman.
Most recently, some friends and I ventured way off campus to go thrift shopping at the Salvation Army. The TCAT app on my phone told me to take the 75 from campus to the Commons, then get off and board the 15. The first part went easily enough. Then we stood at the downtown stop for a few minutes before realizing the number on the bus we had just exited had changed—it was now the 15. We got back on. Still relying on my phone, we looked for the “Elmira and Southwest Park” stop. It never came. Once we realized we were going back toward campus, my friend pulled the cord (we remembered this time) and got off in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Forty minutes and three map apps later, we figured out where the Salvation Army was.
We took a cab home.
— Alexandra Clement ’16