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  • Waiting for a ride

January 20 A Dark & Stormy Wednesday

Vallejo 7:20 AM

The storm rages on but this morning I talk my husband out of driving me to BART and I return to the casual carpool.  As we slosh down the 780 freeway en route to Vallejo I see a surprising number of people driving like kamikaze pilots – tailgating, cutting in and going way too fast on these slick roads.  Kind of terrifying in any weather, but a special thrill this morning.  The 780 is one of the worst freeways for this kind of reckless behavior.  There’s a long welcome line of cars lined up at the casual carpool spot and I run from our car to the first ride in line – a big new safe and lovely Lincoln Continental.   The driver says yesterday’s commute was a bit slow, but okay.  Hopefully today will be without incident.

Unfortunately, there’s no heat in this car – frequently the case.  Does anyone understand the logic of this?  and what is the general rule here?  The driver’s comfort and the riders discomfort?

Traffic crawls – top speed is 40, which is fine with me in this weather.  The meadows and hills are turning greener each day and within the next 6 weeks we’ll start to see the first flowers of Spring.

Slow on the Bay Bridge, with buckets of water falling onto the windshield, and somewhere to my right is the City – but today it’s vanished into the storm.  8:30 and we’re here in San Francisco.  The driver takes me right to my bus stop for the next leg of my commute.

January 19 – Stormy Tuesday

North Concord/Martinez BART  7:30 a.m.

My husband insisted I take BART instead of casual carpool this stormy morning, fearing for me the dangers of the wet freeway and unpredictible drivers.   We head down the 680 to the North Concord BART station, and as we cross the swaying Benicia Bridge with the rain obscuring the windshield, I agree with my husband.  What a storm this is.

I arrive at BART only to have just missed a train, so wait 12 minutes in the increasingly cold wind.  Once we’re underway, I settle into my novel (“Manhattan Nocturne” by Collin Harrison).  I look out at the freeway that runs alongside and am glad not to be in that jammed wet traffic.  After a few minor delays along the way, I arrive at my stop, Powell Street and bundle up for the walk to my office.  This is a real downpour, but perversely, within moments of arriving at work, the rain lets up and the sun comes out.

More storms loom ahead this week. Tomorrow morning I’ll try the carpool again.