’Tis the season for transportation reality checks. Last week, the infamous fixed link study made it clear no bridge will be snaking across Howe Sound, no new highways cutting through the Coast Mountains.
This week, it’s time for us to take stock.
The study found that building a link would bring fresh troves of visitors (and their money) to a place that for so long has remained isolated because of sub-optimal ferry service, but the billion-dollar price tag sunk the dream. Many people are not happy with this choice. The question then, is what do we do now that we have answers we may not like.
As someone without a driver’s licence, I have relied heavily on links, albeit more ephemeral ones. On Sunday, the 33 bus picked me up from the gentrifying South Vancouver neighbourhood where I live and drove me to the Burrard SkyTrain Station, where I hopped onto the 257, then boarded the Queen of Surrey, then trundled down to the Langdale parking lot, where for 20 minutes I collected my thoughts with the moon hanging low over Elphinstone and waited for the 90 to take me to my new home in Gibsons. It’s a two-hour trip plus change. I must trust in the gods of public transportation, even as I wonder what life is like for car people.
Last Sunday night, as the 257 shuttled me over the Lions Gate Bridge and through West Vancouver on my way to Horseshoe Bay, I watched people with shopping bags in hand shuffle on and off the bus, most absorbed in the glow of their devices (me among them). But that changed at the Langdale terminal. While waiting for the 90, I struck up a conversation with a gentleman I saw on the ferry, who graciously gave me one of the last cigarettes in his pack. He didn’t say much, but he spoke to the bus driver, they talked fog, and through their friendly banter, in this quiet place, I learned a few things.
In the mornings, I’ll load myself onto the 90 and nod to the people I’ve grown accustomed to seeing a mere week into my new commute. I’ll marvel at how the bus drives us through a rainforest and to another town in less time than it takes go from East Van to UBC. In Vancouver, I rarely saw people I knew on the bus. I was probably too busy with my smartphone.
Soon I’ll be taking my road test and then purchasing a car. I’ll likely, eventually, abandon public transpiration and in doing so, will lose those small moments in the day when kismet seemed to play a larger role.
Yes, losing the bridge or highway means being forced to continue pressuring BC Ferries and Ottawa to give Sunshine Coast residents reliable transportation. But in losing that link, I think we’re given another. The Coast infrastructure is unique. It is about ferries, and wait times, and political decisions we cannot always control. But it also involves meeting people along the way, getting the time and space to get to know each other, and acknowledging that our dependency on these systems forces us to depend on each other. And there is value in that, too. It helps us keep the peace.
