It’s the University of Maryland’s own little bus that could. Seatbelts dangle from comfy red seats that rarely see butt action, but that doesn’t keep the Gold Line bus from rattling around the campus early into the morning.
Ryan Peters has been a contractor for the Department of Transportation Services since 2013, but this weekend was his first chance to drive the tin can.
“They usually base the type of bus on the number of people and the route itself,” he said. “I think part of the reason [for this bus] is that not many people come on.”
In fact, in his two hours on the route, only 24 people climbed the steep stairs into the caboose. He lets them on the bus by manually pushing a long rod that opens the door. There’s only one entrance so the bus must empty before anyone can board.
This type of bus is called a freightliner.
“They’re really best for quick stops here and there,” he says. “They’re a lot like the box trucks people rent for moving but instead of all that cargo space, they’ve converted it to a passenger vehicle.”
But its small size doesn’t necessarily make it more enjoyable to drive.
“I’d definitely take another route over this any day,” he said.
Or ride for that matter.
“This has a spring ride suspension.” Peters explains. “The full-size busses have an air ride suspension. You pay for it in rider comfort.”
Nonetheless, Peters tries to make sure no one suffers too much.
“I do my best when possible to keep passenger safety and comfort more than anything else,” he says.
Which sometimes means hitting the bumps fast — it sounds counter-intuitive but Peters says it’s less jarring that way. The bus is no good for potholes, but traverses a route full of them.
The Gold Line crowd is pretty docile compared to the drunk kids that pack Green and Orange lines on the weekends. Peters said he has never had a problem with a “biological hazard” as DOTS calls it, known commonly as puke.
“It used to be the driver that was responsible for the cleanup,” he said.
Now, the bus is switched out immediately and a special team takes care of the mess.
There’s a certain quaintness about the bus. It’s smaller for sure, but with its own set of quirks. To get off, there’s a little yellow string the dips into the windows as it edges along the top. A little tug lights up a “Stop Requested” sign written in sans serif font. Excepting the harsh electric lighting, the Gold Line bus is like riding a westward bound steam engine with the suspension of a mining cart.
Business school professor Louiqa Raschid sometimes takes the Gold Line home.
“I live close to campus, but today since it’s cold I’m too lazy to walk,” Raschid said.
“They keep changing this bus all the time — there’s like three or four of them — and one of them is horrible,” she said. “There’s one that the suspension is really bad.”
But with a pair of headphones and nestled in one of the padded seats, the rough ride is easy to ignore. It bounces down the street as quickly as it came, carrying only a handful of students who are probably not along for the bumpy ride. But the Gold Line bus seems to take pride in the small discomforts of the journey. And for that, a joy ride in a bus-shaped pickup truck is pure gold.
