New-to-Me MP36 at South Station with passengers disembarking

The riding public was treated today to the sight of two brand-new-to-me locomotives that the MBTA purchased from the Utah Transit Authority.  (Yes, Utah has a transit authority, which has a surplus of trains in preparation for a big expansion in service scheduled for 2013-14).  One of the two locomotives made its first service run today and met a contingent of reporters and VIPs at South Station.  (Note to reporters: let the riders disembark before trying to board yourselves).  The Worcester-to-Boston service was only 20 minutes late, so riders were not eligible for a complementary fare.  Incidentally, the train also had two locomotives — the new one on the front and the usual one on the back.  Not taking any chances with mechanical problems, these transit bigwigs.

Side view

Originally the T planned to purchase or lease as many as nine new-to-me locomotives from the Utah Transit Authority with delivery beginning in the fall 2010, but that number appears to have been cut back and the delivery delayed. Even so, the new locomotive was a welcome shot of good press for the MBTA during a dreary stretch of winter weather.  The units are said to be a little bit more fuel efficient while also being a little bit more powerful than the MBTA’s existing stable of geriatric locomotives.  The press releases don’t mention a model number, which apparently is a variant of Motive Power’s MP36.

Where on this platform do I stand?

For a new rider on the commuter rail, one of the most basic questions is “where do I stand” to wait for the train?  There are long areas astride the tracks for boarding and disembarking. The areas typically are long enough to accommodate a maximum-length train of six or maybe even more cars, at eighty-five feet apiece.  That’s more than 500 feet, or well more than a football field — endzones and all.  In other words, it’s a lot of space to cover.  And there is only one of me, the rider.

The question of where on the platform to wait is all the more pressing because the midday trains only open a few doors.  There may be 12 doors to the train but rest assured only two of those doors will open — the doors where the MBCR conductors are located.  The same train generally will follow the same practice … but different trains apparently follow different practices.  Some trains board passengers on the leading cars, while other trains board passengers on the trailing cars.

How can a rider predict where on the platform the train will stop and which doors will open?  The easy answer is that you should stand with the other riders.  But that only works if you are slow to arrive at the station and time the train closely.  As you can see there are no riders in this picture of Mishawum/Woburn station a few minutes prior to the arrival of a Boston-bound train.

How about standing on the elevated platform?  The MBCR and MBTA have made handicap accessibility a priority, so more boarding is conducted from the platform in recent years.  However, clearly not all elevated platforms are in use.  You can see the picture above was taken from an elevated platform that was in a state of disrepair and not the correct choice.  The train did not board from the elevated platform.

In fact, riders boarded on the far end of the Woburn/Mishawum stop, and that only was clear when the usual riders began gathering in that area just moments before the train arrived.  There has to be a better way to help riders who are unfamiliar with a train or a station.

Walk this way to board the train

And it turns out that the MBCR already has the solution, in the form of the sign to the left posted at the Needham Junction station.  Call it obvious (or brilliant) but it is a hurtling leap forward in communications with riders.  Stand where the sign says to go and you will be alright.  Now if we could just get these signs at all of the stations!

Tailpipe up high, but the exhaust leaks out below

Recently, I saw bus 0462 (marked in the picture for route 504) belching fumes.  That itself is not remarkable.  Some buses just stink.  Bus this bus stunk in a peculiar way.  See in the picture to the right how there is an exhaust pipe up high to the left of the bus, strategically above the passenger compartment and away from the curb?  That is where one would expect the bus fumes to escape.

Instead, the fumes on this bus came out the bottom, apparently whenever the driver hit the gas, in a big gray plume.  (The picture shows the bus idling).

I’ve seen several buses like this in the last year.  Exhaust pipe on the top, heavy stinky exhaust cloud down below.  When I’ve been unlucky, I’ve ridden on that bus and been made queasy by diesel fumes that perfumed the passenger compartment.  Maybe it was the same 0462 bus over and over.

If the cloud of exhaust underneath the bus is indicative of a major leak in the exhaust system — the other possibility of a dummy exhaust pipe seems unlikely — one might wonder how the bus ever made it out of the shop.  Ahem … make that “might have wondered,” i.e., wondered in the past.  Turns out the bus maintenance people have been falsifying records to keep up the appearance that they could handle their backlogs of work.  So far nineteen supervisors have been disciplined for faking regular maintenance of the buses.

Here’s guessing 0462 is overdue for its next checkup.  Hopefully the T will have enough supervisors to deal with this problem soon.

Red is fast; blue is not.

Let’s say you live near Porter Square, Cambridge.  From Porter Square, destinations in Cambridge, Somerville, and downtown Boston are close — less than a half-hour by T. Almost by default, practically speaking that becomes the entirety of your city.  You might plan a shopping trip to Harvard Square, a movie at Kendall or Boylston, or you might schedule a bus out of South Station. You’d think carefully before you would put the time into visiting places like Chestnut Hill, Roxbury, or Mattapan — even if you needed to be there — because those all are basically day-long excursions on the T.  The ride one way on the T is at least an hour, including a bunch of connections.  (By contrast, in an hour of driving in a car, you could be at least a state away.)  And places like most of Needham, Westwood, or parts of Dedham?  Fuhgettaboutit.  Two hours or more, on average.

Well, finally we have an interactive graphical representation of what this looks like, on a map.  Software guru Dan Tillberg has done a fabulous job illustrating the world traveling by T, in color.  Using the T service information database posted by developers at MassDOT (kudos to the government folks for posting the extensive dataset), the map shows in red and yellow the places that are relatively close by T (and walking).  The places that are further away are in greens and blues.  Dan’s map is interactive, and it is pictured above.  Click the image to browse through to his site, and check T connectivity of other locations.

Of course, there are some assumptions behind the map that would change the way it looks depending on, for example how far or fast you were willing to walk, and whether you were willing or able to time your trip precisely to meet a particular bus or train.  Transit diagramming is tricky.  And this map probably is something like a best-average case … the dataset of delayed or dropped MBTA routes isn’t presently available and so Dan was left to assume that, for example, the Number 1 bus midday from Harvard St. was right on time.  Even though we all can guess is was late and overcrowded.  That will be another project ….

Looks like history is repeating … or at least rhyming.  Gov. Patrick directed that the proposed 2009 hike is off the table, for now.  Hopefully major service cuts also were averted.  If the consensus economic view is correct that inflation will remain subdued for some time — and assuming the inflation-adjusted fare of $1.75 remains the third-rail of subway pricing — that proposed hike won’t be finding its way to riders anytime soon.

In 2005, Grabauskas took the job of general manager with a clear vision.  The T would treat riders like customers; the system would be reliable, clean, courteous, and safe.  But mainly clean.  And accessible; inaccessibility “impacts not only on the disabled, but on parents with children in strollers, as well.” Grabauskas professed to be a neatnik; he was particularly concerned about the condition of elevators and escalators.  He apparently believed that if he made the T a comfortable place to be, riders would flock and revenues would soar.  And, of course, he wanted to control costs.

So four years later, how did he do?

Grabauskas never shrunk from the gaze of his “customers,” for example writing a regular Q+A column in the free daily paper Metro, and appearing more than once on WBUR public radio.  He was determined to keep riders safe; he initiated random, highly visible police screening checkpoints.  He committed to spending hundreds of millions of dollars to make the T more accessible, installing announcement screens and elevated platforms on the Green Line.  He resisted union contract demands and agreed to wage increases only after being overruled by a labor arbitrator.  The T renovated the Charles Street station and installed a new train control system on the Red Line that permitted more frequent service.  And there is the electronic fare system.

The list goes on.  Grabauskas was nothing if not engaged in the goings-on at the T.  Perhaps one can disagree with him on policy matters — for example it might be reasonable to question the wisdom of a having a broke organization with heavy capital needs spend hundreds of millions of dollars in an effort to meet the unique requirements of less than 0.1% of T riders — but the man demonstrated integrity and dedication to his “customers.”

But many things never changed.  Yes, the trains still are slow and late.  Yes, the escalators have at times been scandalously unreliable.  Yes there still are door-openers on the  Red, Green, and Orange Lines.  Yes, Kenmore Station still is under construction nearly five years later.  No, Dan Grabauskas does not commute to work on the T.  Yes, the T still is broke.

No Cell Zone

But none of those were the reasons that Governor Patrick and his appointees gave for the reasons they had lost faith in Grabauskas.  The breakdown occurred, they said, because two Green Line drivers in two years apparently had ignored traffic signals for different reasons, and Grabauskas was not in Washington, D. C. when the NTSB released its report on one of the accidents.  And there was a power outage on the Green Line.  That’s it.  Never mind that Grabauskas nearly overmanaged the aftermath of the Government Center Green Line collision by banning cell phones from drivers.  And never mind that he was on an unpaid budget-related furlough at the time the NTSB report was released.  And never mind he is not the T electrician.

No matter; Grabauskas is out, but to Gov. Patrick’s likely chagrin, the former T general manager emerges from the tussle virtually unscathed.  That isn’t true for the Governor and his appointees.  The termination looks like short-term political retribution — at taxpayers’ expense.

Unfortunately, the real loser here looks to be the T.  The authority is leaderless at a critical time where the patchwork of agencies is being reexamined and when the modes of transportation finance are in flux in a way they have not been in memory.  The Governor has made noises time and again that he is a friend to transit.  Now he has an opportunity to go from words to action.

Kudos to Luke Bornheimer and the “Put the MBTA on Google Maps” Facebook group for influencing the T and Google to make this happen.

[eds. note:  After this was posted, Google adjusted the way that it selects routes; the original post contained another link that now is outdated]

The criminal charge apparently stems from a Massachusetts law that applies to a “railroad or railway of the class usually operated by steam power.”  One probably can’t begrudge the District Attorney for not knowing the precise history of the Green Line and the Scollay Square trolley stop; that history never involved steam.

But it certainly would be interesting if the railroad law applied on the Green Line.  The law has some interesting, specific requirements.  A few things would need to change.  To be a trolley conductor, Quinn would have needed to serve as a “brakeman” for two years.  Not a bad idea … except trolleys only have one driver (and a door-operator) and no brakeman.  Any trolley conductor who never worked as a “brakeman” (probably all of them) would be subject to a $500 fine and year imprisonment.  (There’s no such thing as a railroad “operator”)  Bare-headed Green Line employees also would be no more; all railroad employees must don a “cap.” An employee without a “cap” forfeits $45.

But on the other hand, maybe some changes would make some sense.  If the Green Line was a railroad then it would be required to accept bicycles, one per rider.  Of course, as I’ve written previously, the Green Line irrationally prohibits bicycles under all circumstances. And don’t try to hold the door to keep the Green Line train from leaving the station; if it’s a railroad that offense carries up to a $1,000 fine and 20 years in prison, which makes what Quinn is facing look like tiddly-winks.

Obviously the Green Line isn’t run like a railroad.  There is a reason for that; it’s a street railway, apparently subject to an entirely different law.  That law doesn’t require employees to wear caps, has no obvious requirements for the qualifications of conductors, and (unfortunately) doesn’t require that trolleys accommodate bicycles.  If you merely obstruct a trolley you only can be jailed for three months (instead of 20 years).

And if you drive a trolley at excessive speed like Quinn allegedly did — even willfully — you forfeit $500.  That might conceivably seem like a bit light of a maximum penalty.  But fear not; all operators of common carriers — from steamboats, to buses, to trolleys — also are subject to an entirely different law that the District Attorney apparently did not specifically name, which carries a penalty of two and a half years in jail for gross negligence in the control of any common carrier (not just a railroad).

What does all of this add up to?  Well, ultimately if the District Attorney succeeds in sending Quinn to prison for three years (instead of to jail for 2 1/2)  for crashing a railroad train (and not a trolley), then the T should get ready to welcome bicycles and their riders on that same line.  Because that’s the law!

The NTSB found that the crash probably occurred because the trolley operator didn’t stop at a red light on the tracks.  And the most likely reason the operator didn’t stop was because she didn’t see the red light.  And the most likely reason she didn’t see the red light was because she was asleep.  And the most likely reason she was asleep was because she had a hidden medical condition that deprived her of sleep.  Thus the most likely cause of that unfortunate collision was resolved as thoroughly as it probably ever will be.

But the NTSB made another interesting finding.  The red light was broken and stuck on red.  The signal was red all the time, even when it should have been yellow or another color.  Even more strange, the T did not know about the broken signal because “[MBTA] operating rules do not require that train operators report signals [erroneously] displaying red.”

Accidents happen, and everyone knows that the cash-strapped T relies on antiquated systems.  But what about “see something, say something?”  When passengers see something suspicious they are supposed to run breathless to a station attendant.  And when a conductor notices a piece of essential safety equipment is broken and out of service … silence?

What is really interesting about this is it also would put subway and bus fares at their highest levels in Boston ever, even after the prices are adjusted for local inflation.  In other words, the Boston subway never has been as costly to ride in real world terms as it will be if the fare increase is approved.

The Boston subway debuted with a nickel fare in 1897, and slowly the fare rose, to 10¢ in 1919, 15¢ in 1949, 25¢ in 1968,  75¢ in 1981, and 85¢ in 1991.  The MBTA Advisory Board published then-current figures in 2006 during the last round of fare increases.

T to Riders: How High is Too High?

In 1897, a nickel bought more than it does today.  A lot more.  According to the Bureau of Labor statistics, a nickel then had 96% more value in Boston than a nickel today.  If you adjust the value of the nickel (or quarter) for the additional buying power in had in the past, you get a chart like the one on the right (which shows fares in constant dollars since 1945).

The actual value of the nickel fare in 1897 was $1.35 in today’s dollars, which is inexpensive but not so much of a steal.  The standard fare right now is $1.70.  In the Boston subway’s 112-year history, the standard fare been higher than it is right now in constant dollars just three times: in 1933 ($1.71), 1954 ($1.77), and in 1981 ($1.90).  And for 28-years, the 1981 peak has stood as a high-water mark for the regular subway fare (in constant dollars).  If the T gets its way and promptly implements the fare hike, it will set a new record for unaffordability, although because exit fares recently were eliminated the burden will fall disproportionately on innercity riders who do not exit at suburban stops where previously there were surcharges.

What is even more interesting is that the T is raising fares just as prices for private transportation are falling.  Or at least not rising to the same extent.  The chart shows dotted lines for private transportation costs in Boston and nationwide for public transit costs (also from the Bureau of Labor Statistics), both of which have continued to decline relative to background inflation as the T dramatically raised its fares.  (note: for purposes of the graph, private transportation costs were equalized to subway fares for the year 2000; the trend of costs upward or downward is what is significant)  For fifty years, changes in regular T fares corresponded roughly to changes in private transportation costs (both in direction and magnitude), but in the last ten years private costs have been flat whereas standard subway fares soared.  I’m no economist, but it seems like the T should be able to keep its customers’ costs flat.  Instead the T simply failed to hold the line.

Riders still can take heart from a historical perspective.  Each of the previous real dollar fare-price records were short-lived.  In 1981 and 1954, the fare increases were almost immediately rescinded.  The next year fares were cut– an unusual occurrence– by 20% and 25% respectively.  In 1982, for example, the Legislature restored funding that the T lost the previous year.  And in 1934, a bout of deflation that caused the rise in the real fare price was broken and the real fare price in constant dollars declined (even though the stated fare was unchanged).

The rate hike proposal probably isn’t the best option.  Probably a fairer solution (pun alert) would be to restore some rationality to the subway fare structure by reintroducing some form of distance pricing.  Functionally the T is closer to that goal because it has introduced an electronic fare system, but distance pricing would require a revival of exit fares.  And Charlie got stuck on the subway as a result of exit fares.  No one wants Charlie to get stuck again.  A 60-year-old ditty still drives policy in some quarters.  More on distance pricing another time.

Although the fare hike may possibly be a fait accompli, the T scheduled “workshops” for riders to speak out about it.  I expect they should get an earful.  Not for nothing, the first session is scheduled to be conducted in the State House,  Gardner Auditorium, on  Monday, August 10, from 4pm to 7pm.  Probably the T hopes someone there will be listening.

Whatever decision the state makes, it will be a painful one.  But on the other hand, history tells us that $2.00 to ride the Boston subway — even for just one stop — is just too high a price.

Stuck in Newton on the way to the ballpark

In a minature version of the Easter 2009 turnpike toll fiasco, insufficient staffing at the Riverside Green line terminal in Newton at noon on Sunday jammed traffic all the way back onto I-95/Route 128.  Red Sox faithful arrived at the station early for the 1:35pm afternoon start … and most still needed all of the time and patience they could muster.

Near Capacity Lot a Surprise for a Sunday

Turnout was strong for the short trolley ride to the stadium.  With the reduction in trolley fares inbound from the station a few years ago (from $3 per person to $1.70), families west of Boston seem to know a good deal when they see one.

Too bad the T and its contractor, Central Parking, didn’t get it right today, and they left T patrons idling in traffic for probably forty-five minutes each — right outside of the station.

Traffic backed up to highway overpass

The problem: Riverside station has staffed booths at the entrance to the parking lot, and in their wisdom, Central Parking and the T sent just one attendant to staff the collection booth for the entire thousand-space lot.  For occasional parkers, like weekend Red Sox fans, paying for parking is not a speedy proposition.  So the influx of fans piled up at the booth near the back of the station.  And then the line backed up through the station (blocking bus access). And then the line jammed up the local street outside.  And then it jammed up the Route 95/128 overpass, going so far as to stop traffic, bumper to bumper on the Route 95/128 off-ramp.

Transit-jam on highway off-ramp

I doubt many of those fans are feeling very smart now about their decision to ride the T.  A half-hour trip to the Sunday game turned into a two-hour nightmare.  It’s unfortunate that the T and Central Parking can’t figure out a way to collect weekend parking fees in an effective way.

Riverside Station entrance

When the Turnpike inexplicably jammed patrons earlier this year by understaffing collection booths, the head of the organization promptly resigned.  Although this jam was no less inexcusable, don’t expect the same thing from the T.  In some ways it seems to set the bar lower.  But at Central Parking on the other hand … there may be some anxious days ahead.

(eds. note: Red Sox game coincided with final day of the Tall Ships Festival)

A second express bus pass, with an identical monthly fare! Two passes for the price of one!

Buy one get one free ... oops!

I was confused so I asked the station attendant what the second pass was all about. He said that I must have paid twice, and that the pass was indeed a second monthly ticket to the bus. He recommended that I write the machine number and return the pass to the monthly pass office at a different station, when the office reopened. He figured that I must have paid for the extra pass.

But surprise! Later I confirmed that the second pass was indeed a live monthly ticket and not a receipt — it is accepted by card readers on the express bus — and best of all, my credit card only was charged once — meaning I only paid for one of the two passes! I’ve heard that I’m not the only person who has experienced this “surprise;” I wonder how often the MBTA has done this unannounced two-for-one deal.

I previously had heard of stored value Charlie Cards that erroneously had some special unlimited access for unlimited time, and I’ve had intermittent problems in the past with the fare system. For example, once when the clock struck midnight on the last day of the month my monthly pass for the previous month no longer worked and my monthly pass for the subsequent month was not yet recognized. Stranded at midnight with two monthly passes but no train fare! Imagine.

But a whole free pass — very unexpected. This potentially is an $89 mistake by the T. Mistakes like that add up quickly. The T spent thousands chasing two MIT hackers who had devised some theoretical exploit to ride the T more than they were entitled. And then the T turns around and it prints extra monthly passes for free.

Is there a contractor somewhere that owes the T some money back? I wonder how much money the T has lost through this particular quirk.

Think again.  Several transit agencies participated in a wacky “sale and leaseback” arrangement involving their trains, the banks, and insurance companies including AIG.  The Washington DC Metro, Bay Area Rapid Transit, and Chicago Transit Authority sold their trains to banks, which leased the trains back to the transit authorities.  The deals were guaranteed by insurance companies, most notably AIG, and the agencies all were defaulted when AIG lost its high quality financial rating (and then some) in the fall of 2008.  The upshot: the transit agencies suddenly were obligated pay banks millions of dollars they otherwise would not have had to pay.

As an aside, a bank owning a subway train doesn’t make a whole lot of intutive sense, does it?  Why would a bank want a train?  Well, the answer apparently is that the bank can write off depreciation of the trains on its taxes whereas a transit agency cannot.  Public transit agencies generally don’t pay taxes.  So the banks paid the transit agencies for the privilege of owning the trains as a tax shelter.  Neat, huh.

This Green Line car courtesy of the Wilmington Trust Company

The T avoided the limelight on this, and probably many people simply assumed that the T didn’t participate in sale and leaseback transactions.  Think again.  I stumbled across the plaque to the right on a Green Line train at Government Center.  Maybe there aren’t many bank-owned trains … but there are at least a few.  Now I know where to send my complaint about the faux wood paneling!  To the bank!

There may yet be a happy ending to this catastrophe.  The transit agencies were left out of the original 2008 Wall Street givaway but Christmas/Channuka/Kwanza may yet arrive at the DC Metro and elsewhere if  Congress agrees to step into AIG’s shoes to guaranty the bank deals … and to avoid the banks having to find a repo guy with a tow truck big enough to haul away all of those trains.

South Station Red Line, Evening Rush Hour

What does a crowded platform mean?  Is it a sign of success or a sign of failure?  When the MBTA compiles its ridership statistics, do they record the situation in the picture to the right as a roaring success?  Do they simply say “there were like a thousand people who boarded that train at South Station during the evening rush hour; hooray?”

There isn’t really any question in my mind how the patrons standing on the platform would have answered the question.  When you get down to it, there really isn’t much difference between sucking tailpipe emissions on Storrow Drive and becoming better-acquainted than you’d like with strangers on the subway.  Probably the main difference is scenery; there’s no advertising on Storrow Drive.

The T doesn’t usually give live feedback, but on the day of the picture the train driver gave passengers who boarded from the very crowded platform an unusually syrupy-sweet send off.  She knew the crowded platform was trouble.  But when the transit scribes meticulously record the events of the day, how will they see it?  I wonder.

In Emergency to Stop Car and Open Doors Pull Lever Down and Push Doors Apart

Ever seen the red levers on the Green Line trains?  Ever wonder what happens when you pull the lever?  The train stops, right then and there.  No matter what it was doing before; 20mph to zero in a flash.

When is the lever supposed to be used?  “In Emergency.”  The T attracts all kinds of folks, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that the word “emergency” can mean different things to different riders.  To a regular commuter, “emergency” might mean “life or death situation.”  But how about to a gaggle of tween girls on a shopping expedition without a chaperone?  What might “emergency” mean to them?  Could it mean “accidentally got on the E train outbound to Brigham Circle when we wanted to go to Kenmore?”  If you believed that no one possibly could think that would qualify as an “emergency” enough to pull that lever … you’d be wrong.