Soon after moving to Madison, WI while trying to become familiar with the bus system and the bus schedules I was trying to catch a bus to an event on the opposite side of town. I rushed from my apartment, as fast as my wheelchair would allow (a whole 8.5 MPH). The bus I needed would be arriving in a few minutes. This would be my last chance to catch a bus, and still make the event in time. I reached the bus stop. The bus was waiting just a few feet away. I could make it. I could get on… the bus was leaving.
No! I missed it! I wouldn’t make it to the event I had been looking forward to all week.
But wait! I can catch it one block up. I rushed to the next stop, trailing the bus the whole way. The bus stopped. I caught up to the bumper, and it took off … again.
I chased the bus, full speed ahead. There were five more stops on this road. I could still catch it. I trailed the bus once more, but yet again just missed it by seconds. This pattern continued again and again.
I followed the bus for what felt like miles (I later learned that I did in fact follow it for miles). I soon found myself lost. No sign of the bus. No familiar sights in this unfamiliar city. All I had to go by was a map of the bus routes. I looked to the map. The destination didn’t look to be too far away from where I was. I followed the roads and the map, confident I could make it, if only a little late. The roads of the cityscape opened into houses, woods, and nice residential neighborhoods. I traveled on, certain of my path. Certain I could make it to the event.
After travelling for what seemed for an eternity, I did in fact arrive. My chair’s power at 30%. I was 40 minutes late from the start of the event, but I was here. I could go in and enjoy myself. And I definitely didn’t have enough battery to make it bake without taking the return bus.
I later learned that I had traveled a total of 7.5 miles, chasing the bus for around 3 miles. After that I started arriving at the bus stops 10 to 15 min ahead of time.
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