Vancouver’s public transit is reputed to be the best in North America. It’s not inconceivable that it’s the best public transit system in the Americas.
It has also pointed out to me, over every fucking commute I’ve undertaken these past four days*, that a vast number of hydrocarbons that could otherwise be put to useful purposes are locked up in oblivious idiots who like to crowd into exactly the wrong areas of every fucking vehicle I’ve boarded. When my chosen mode of transportation makes me think of sapient — I use the term loosely — human beings as wasted plastic bags, I need a new damn mode of transportation.
Give me a few months and it’ll probably be a KLR650. Maybe a CB500x. Maybe a G650GS if I’m feeling especially prosperous. I need an Aerostich first.
Fuck commuting by public transit. I’d rather enjoy a 40min commute than treat a 70min commute as at best a temporary coma. Sorry, mom.
* It’s been particularly bad this week, but this is far from an isolated occurrence.