How I found commuting joy in San Francisco
It’s taken me three years to find a way to get to work that works for me. In case you’re in a similar position: a woman with options commuting within the city and looking for a better way, I thought I’d share my “path” (ha.) here.
This story begins with a note about my privilege: I have many options available to me, enough money to choose the one that suits me best, and plenty of time to research and try different possibilities. I live and work within the city, and I’m also healthy enough to walk or bike. My experiences and preferences are my own, but I hope it might be helpful to share them. With that in mind, here’s what I’ve tried.
Parameters
My San Francisco commute has been between 2.5 and 4 miles. I’ve changed both work and home addresses a few times, but there’s always been a massive hill on the route.
Taxi
On my first day of work in San Francisco, I took a taxi. I had moved here from Berlin, by way of an acquisition. There was a corporate shuttle available to me, though I was pretty nervous about it. I’d read a lot about protests against them. They appeared to be a blazing symbol of excess, though they also promised to take a lot of cars off the road. Since I couldn’t construct a public transportation route from the place I was staying, I decided to give the thing a try.
I brought instructions from the company’s intranet. I turned the thumbnail map this way and that. I stood at my post. I waited a long while past the appointed time for pick-up.
Then, bah! Not one, but TWO unmarked spaceship-looking shuttles showed up at the same stop. I couldn’t figure out which might be destined for the company I was headed to. I was too nervous to interrupt any of the riders whose eyes and ears remained glued to their phones as they boarded.
I gave up and called a taxi service, by their actual telephone number. I waited another long while, but it worked. However, it was too expensive to be sustainable as an everyday option.
Corporate shuttle
Eventually I figured out how to identify my own shuttle, and that was my commuting option of choice for nearly two years. It was very luxurious inside, and it was the easiest thing for me to do. Here were the downsides:
- It wasn’t very flexible. It came once an hour, so I was always worried about missing it.
- I arrived at work car sick every day.
- It was relatively unreliable. Often late, or stuck in traffic.
- It was pretty slow. My 3-mile commute took about 40 minutes, sometimes much longer if there was weather (any sort) or a special event going on in the city.
- I always felt like a jerk while waiting for it, boarding, riding, and disembarking.
- I also felt I was living in an eerily pristine bubble, transported from cozy apartment to fancy work and back in an airtight fancy bus. It felt like I wasn’t really a part of my city but carried along above it. You look down from so high up in those shuttles, and it didn’t feel good.
Eventually, the shuttle program ended and I needed to find another option. Ultimately, it was a good nudge for me.
Bus
After that, I rode the bus for over a year. At first it was pretty ok. There was a pretty direct route without any transfers between my home and work. It took about the same amount of time as the shuttle, and I still got a little car sick (maybe less?).
But it was much more flexible, and I did not feel like I jerk while riding it. In fact, I felt proud buying my pass each month and supporting my city’s public transportation system. (I deeply missed the efficient, affordable, extensive, safe, reliable public transportation system in Berlin.)
Then I changed work addresses, which meant changing bus routes too. My new bus route was often scary. People were always yelling, cursing, and threatening each other. Sometimes they got in fights, with each other or with the driver. I heard a lot of things I wished I could un-hear. I started wearing headphones, turning the sound up extremely loud, and gluing my eyes to my phone. I started feeling even sadder about the suffering and strife I encountered every day. I already felt sad and bewildered about it from my first day in San Francisco, but riding the bus for an hour and a half every day immersed me a little more in the remarkably unequal society I participate in here.
Toward the end of my bus chapter, I started getting stopped pretty frequently by MUNI officers checking my ticket/card. I was already so stressed by what was happening inside the bus. To be held up while trying to get off of it put me over the edge. I kept worrying that I might just honest-to-goodness forget to tap my card and then get stopped and then get in trouble and get chastised and fined (or whatever happens) while a busload of people are watching and waiting to get off the bus. I gave up on the bus.
Bike
I bought a used bike at some point while I still had the corporate shuttle option. I wanted to see if I could make biking work, with the hypothesis that it would be faster, give me some much needed exercise, and remove the car sickness problem from the bookends of my day.
I rode it now and then, but eventually sold it back. It gave me some freedom, but getting up the hill on the way home was miserable. I always arrived to work sweaty, and I was trying so hard to look confident and professional. The helmet-hair and drenched armpits look was not doing it for me.
Also, the traffic freaked me out a little. I felt like I almost died a few times during every 25-minute commute. However, it was faster than bus or shuttle.
Uber
I used to take Uber a lot when I was in a pinch—running late, missed the shuttle, or whatever. I had a lot of bad, awkward, and creepy experiences. Drivers were always commenting on my appearance, trying to flirt with me, asking whether I had a boyfriend, asking whether said boyfriend was home, asking how much I pay for rent, and once just plain asking to come home with me. I kept taking Uber because it was so convenient. Eventually, I deleted the app because I was so appalled by the company’s lack of ethics.
Lyft Line
Lyft Line is a pretty good option. Now I take that when I’m in a pinch. I still get car sick, and the cost is a little more than I really want to pay for my daily commute. It usually takes about the same amount of time as a bus or shuttle.
I seem to encounter less creepiness with Lyft, as well as more female drivers (though I don’t know the actual breakdown of male vs. female drivers on the Uber and Lyft platforms). I love it when I get matched with a female driver. I’ve never had a female driver who asked me a creepy question or commented on my appearance (except perhaps a friendly “cool shoes!”).
[Side note: If you present as male and wish to compliment someone who presents as female, politely praising shoes, bag, or glasses is a good way to go. Those usually don’t draw as much attention to the body of the wearer. Try something like, “cool shoes!” or “What a tasteful handbag.” Otherwise, practice restraint and keep quiet! Remember that she got dressed for herself, not for you. And above all, do not yell!]
Walking
Since my commute generally hovers around 3 miles, it’s walkable for me. I tried that for a while as I was giving up on the bus.
Pros
- I got exercise while commuting! Two birds with one stone.
- I enjoyed some of the scenery and noticed more things along the way.
- I listened to A LOT of podcasts.
Cons
- Of all my options, this one takes the most time.
- Constant cat calls. Very loud headphones and sunglasses helped me block them out a little. But getting yelled at about my body several times a day really wore on me. I’d arrive at work feeling like nothing but a mass of reproductive organs. That’ll really set you up to be confident, articulate, calm, and effective at work, eh?
- Seeing things I wished I could un-see, like people shooting up, hurting one another, tending open wounds, and defecating on the sidewalk. If the bus gave me a closer look at inequality in San Francisco, a 3-mile twice a day walk did all the more so. The suffering I saw tore me up. What to do about the suffering I encounter is another story entirely—currently I donate to nonprofits (Global Fund for Women, the ACLU, Planned Parenthood, and Our Family Coalition) that work to right different kinds of inequality. Surely there’s a lot more I can do. Avoiding seeing suffering doesn’t seem right, but my walks often made the weight of it feel unbearable.
Electric Bike (the winner!)
At last, I bought myself a Faraday electric bike. It is very expensive. I calculated how much I was spending on Lyft Line + a monthly MUNI/BART pass. If I really replaced all my other transportation options with the bike, I would cover the cost in about 8 or 9 months, then have free transportation after that. I took one for a test ride. It whizzed me up my enormous hill like it was nothing. I added the weight of my commuting stress and the potential for joy to my calculations. I decided it was worth it.
Pros
- I love my bike. I finally get what people say about bikes and motorcycles feeling like an extension of their bodies. This bike is so comfortable and feels like it was designed just for me.
- This bike is so cute that I don’t even mind it taking up a significant portion of my living room.
- I feel really free. I can come and go on my own schedule. I can also zoom past long lines of cars from the bike lane, or walk my bike along the sidewalk, or easily take a different route if traffic’s jammed up somewhere.
- I love enjoying the breeze! The weather’s always fine here, so that’s never a problem.
- It’s environmentally friendly.
- I get a little exercise, but I don’t have to arrive to work sweaty.
- I feel more like a member of my community—not riding high aloft a chariot, but also not sinking into hopeless melancholy at every step. I get to be part of the local biking community too, which is friendly and fun.
Cons
- You can’t park this thing outside anywhere in San Francisco. If you do, do not expect to ever see it again.
- I still feel like I almost die a few times every day because of irresponsible drivers and pedestrians who jump out into the middle of the street from nowhere.
Another thing that’s changed: the cat calls. Men still yell at me nearly every day (and scare the poop out of me). But now, interestingly, they’re yelling about the bike instead of my body. It’s a nice redirect, I guess. Hearing “Sweet ride!” or “How does that drivetrain work?!” from across the street feels better than “$#%&*^ *$@#!” Still, I’d prefer not to be yelled at.
All in all, the Faraday is my favorite way to commute. It gives me the greatest sense of freedom and agency and the lowest amount of stress. (I also considered Riide, which seems like a great, flexible option, but I thought the Faraday was so much cuter.)
Options I haven’t tried
If you’ve tried these, I’m curious to know the pros and cons you’ve found. Feel free to comment with your own experience.
- Ford GoBike—this is new and looks pretty convenient and affordable. (Still, it wouldn’t get me up my hill.)
- Scoot—this looks fun. (Have you tried it? What’s it like?)
- Vespa—this looks very fun and stylish. If you commute this way, how do you like it? Do you feel like you are living your best life? Do you need a special license?
- Chariot—this does not look fun. I always see people squeezing in like sardines. Their faces look a little sour. (Are you one of them? How’s it going in there?)
- Car — parking costs are rather prohibitive, and traffic is nuts.
- Moving very close to work—I know a few wise people who’ve done this and swear by it, basically eliminating the commute entirely. That just wasn’t for me, because I like to live in a quiet, residential neighborhood if I can.
Reflections
If I could go back in time, I would encourage my new-to-San-Francisco self to treat commuting like any other design problem. I would lay out the constraints, the resources at hand, my desired outcome (maximum joy, minimum stress). I would have done a little more research up front and along the way. And I would have experimented with different possibilities much more quickly. It really didn’t have to take me three years and so many stomachaches to find my way to the bike of my dreams.
I would have advised myself that the “easiest” way to go isn’t always the best way for me. I would have listed out all of my “shoulds” (should take public transportation to be a good citizen, should take shuttle because it’s easy and free, should walk because: exercise) and let them go. I would have told myself that it’s ok to make a big deal about how those three miles really feel, because that twice-a-day choice ultimately affects my health, wellbeing, relationships, mood, and productivity. I would have given myself a break, because often the path from point A to point B is not as clear as it might seem.
