People Mover Part 3

Riding the bus carries with it a delicious sense of freedom. We set out on foot to get to the transit center. Unlike the park, which mostly involves the children running free while I occasionally help spin them on the spinny things, or help settle their occasional differences, this bus-riding experience guaranteed a full day of intimate time together. Conversation. Physical proximity. This could be a good or a bad thing, depending on how the day went. But I started out with a positive attitude and learned long ago that a "good day" often depends purely on attitude, regardless of whether everything else completely falls apart. I peered at the stroller when the driver told me to collapse it (okay--admittedly I peered at the driver as well. See aforementioned blog regarding the ridiculous amounts of stuff I brought with us). My friend thankfully helped us, holding the baby while I dealt with the stroller. We made our way to the rear of the bus where we formed our own little camp between the 8 of us: 2 adults and 6 children ages 6, 4, 4, 2, 9 months, and 5 months.

A woman near us chatted about how much easier it was getting to maneuver through the bus system now that she had been using it for three weeks. Another younger lady bemoaned her lost driver's license (with a cheerful attitude regardless) and asked us whether we knew if this bus would wind up downtown. In the end, we made it to the transit center with happy children. The bus was packed for that ride! I had never ridden on it when it was so crowded, especially at 10:30 in the morning. It took us the full scheduled hour on Route 77 to get 13 miles or so from where we started to where we ended (in contrast, the bus ride back--Route 102--is a quick 20 minutes--a straight shot back along the highway); we enjoyed our conversation between ourselves and the children. The kids, of course, felt like they were on the world's most exciting bus. :)

At the transit center, we plopped down on the ground to change diapers then made our way down the 6 blocks or so to Elderberry Park. We passed the Capt. Cook Hotel where Elton John was staying, formed a spectacle with our herd of children for all the cruise tourists who were unloading from their own bus in front of the hotel, and reached the park where the weather was absolutely gorgeous. The park overlooks the Cook Inlet which is largely mud this time of year, along with water and a gorgeous view of Mt. Susitna, a.k.a. Sleeping Lady (see picture). We ate lunch (bean and rice burritos) and played for about 2 hours. On our way back, after several street-crossing adventures involving a certain young toddler who had no interest in doing so, we made it back to the transit center for a rather longish wait after missing the bus we had intended to get on.

Sitting there at the transit center with so many people surrounding us, talking amongst themselves, playing with the kids, caused some realizations. One is that I miss people. Just being around people. In a way, I feel like we spend time around a lot of people. We go to the parks. We do things. We go to church. But these are kind of predetermined groups of people, not in the random and diverse way that happens when one is out in the world. Eagle River is not that big. It does not take long to run into people you know on a regular basis. I can almost count on seeing certain friends of mine simply by showing up to let my children play. And I love that! But it is much different from the lanky teens who are smoking at the bus stop, or the wrinkly and ancient-looking man playing a game of "Boo!" with my children. I feel rather sheltered in my little community. I love that on one hand, and on the other, I gobbled up this day and left it hungry for more.