Tag Archives: mass transit

What I Learned From My ‘Week Without Driving’

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How would your life change if driving wasn’t an option?

That is the question posed by Week Without Driving, an annual campaign — running the first week of October in 2026 — that aims to help those of us who do own a car interrogate our transportation habits. And learn to practice new ones.

Launched in 2021 as a Disability Movement Initiative, #WeekWithoutDriving encourages registered participants to put themselves in the shoes of people who can’t afford a vehicle, who have aged out of driving, who don’t qualify for a driver’s license or who are physically unable to drive.

“For people who can grab their keys and go, transportation often isn’t a major concern,” says the Week Without Driving homepage. “But for those of us who can’t drive or can’t afford to, transportation is something we think about daily.”

As the owner of a plug-in Prius and an active transportation advocate who aims to drive as little as possible, I decided to design my own Week Without Driving ahead of the actual event. I tracked my progress — and my setbacks — along with a few learnings that I hope will help others navigate the challenge.

Week Without Driving challenges you to rely on riding the bus, walking, biking/scooting or asking for rides to understand what it takes to get where you need to go without driving.

Prepare for a series of decisions.

In hindsight, I was smart to start my self-imposed Week Without Driving on a Sunday — when traffic is lighter and the world moves more slowly, when I could savor moving outdoors in the 70-degree sunshine.

I was scheduled to meet a friend for an outdoor brunch at W.A. Frost, long considered to have the best patio dining in St. Paul. Since I was headed that way, why not pick up a few groceries at my favorite food co-op? Both are on a Bus Rapid Transit line that stops three blocks from my house.

Photos by Amy Gage

And so began my planning for the first day of not driving:

  • I consulted the bus schedule the night before and put the options in my iPhone calendar.
  • I dressed carefully, ensuring that I wore shoes I could move in, but not too casually given the potential formality of a Sunday brunch.
  • And I skipped an 8 a.m. yoga class because I would have had to drive there after spending 45 minutes walking my two dogs. I opted instead to work in the kitchen and do my own hip-stretching routine at home.

None of it was hard to do — in fact, choosing to walk the 8 blocks between the restaurant and food co-op energized me after the leisurely meal — but active transportation did require more time and initiative than simply hopping in my car.

Would my willingness hold for the next six days of Week Without Driving? Truth be told, it didn’t. Walking that much (24,000 steps on my first day) eventually wore me down, and both transit and biking proved harder to manage on a couple of busy weekdays.

“Some short car trips are necessary; for example, health and mobility issues might limit our ability to walk. Other times, driving is convenient,” says the Environmental Protection Agency.

Aim to both inspire and inform.

People who refuse to take mass transit — or to walk or bike on at least some of their errands and activities — generally have little experience with active transportation.

Day 2 of my self-imposed Week Without Driving was rainy and chilly, and I probably would have driven had I been less committed to this challenge. Instead, I donned my raincoat and Oboz hiking shoes (the best) and walked to a neighborhood coffee shop to meet a fellow Planned Parenthood volunteer.

After I told him that I had to catch a bus in 70 minutes for another commitment — information that I like to share at the top of a meeting, so as not to appear rude when I have to bolt away — he said he rarely uses the city bus line a block from his house. He drove to this meeting a walkable distance from where he lives. He and his family even drove to the Minnesota State Fair last summer and paid 40 bucks to park on someone’s lawn because they didn’t want to wait in line for the event’s free bus network.

Later that afternoon, my banker expressed surprise that I had walked to our meeting during a heavy rainstorm. He told me he had driven to work rather than walk less than a mile because his legs were tired from refereeing his children’s soccer games the day before.

At age 69, I get it. I also understand that personal actions alone won’t solve the climate crisis. But first, can we agree that Americans’ obsession with driving is an unhealthy practice, both for our bodies and our environment?

I-94 in St. Paul (left); student housing near the University of St. Thomas

Consider:

  • The Environmental Protection Agency, even in the anti-climate Trump administration, encourages biking or walking to activities under a mile away. “Car trips of under a mile add up to about 10 billion miles per year,” the EPA says.
  • St. Paul’s Climate Action and Resilience Plan calls for 40% of all trips within the city to be taken by bus, bike or transit by 2030. That’s only four years away.
  • A 2025 study from the World Resources Institute says that “living car-free,” making a commitment to “walk, bike or take transit more,” and carpooling or bundling your errands into one trip when you do have to drive rank among the top 10 ways that individuals can make climate-friendly choices.

I mentioned none of this to the banker: Virtue signaling and shaming don’t motivate anyone to change. But maybe by cheerfully shrugging off a rainy walk, or explaining the convenience of Metro Transit’s BRT system to the Planned Parenthood volunteer when he inquired, I inspired them to rethink their choices.

“Transportation is often discussed as a service gap, but it is also a dignity issue. Mobility is not merely getting from point A to point B. It is the freedom to remain part of the world,” says age-friendly advocate Dave Beal.

Allow exceptions and grant yourself grace.

By 5 p.m. on the second day of my self-imposed Week Without Driving, I have 22,685 steps, and I’m done. I cancel my plans to hear “James” author Percival Everett at the University of St. Thomas that evening — it’s chilly and damp out, and it would have meant walking another couple of miles to and from campus — and instead settle in for the evening.

That highlights another reality of car-free living: You can’t overschedule your time, a habit that I find more difficult to manage as I age.

The next day, my husband and I ran errands in the Prius because I couldn’t persuade him to bike or take the bus. Excuses come easily when driving is more convenient. Still, Week Without Driving “is not a purity test,” a friend at the Bicycle Alliance of Minnesota reminds me; in fact, the initiative’s guidelines assure participants that they didn’t “fail the challenge” if they set foot in a car.

Three factors make active transportation possible for me:

  • I am strong and healthy, thanks to a lifetime of health insurance coverage and parents who encouraged physical fitness, helping me develop a love of movement.
  • I live in an urban neighborhood conducive to not driving. Four bus lines and one light-rail train are within reasonable walking distance of my home, and the bicycle infrastructure slowly is improving.
  • I have the means to afford two bikes, various exercise shoes, a gym membership and strength-training equipment in my basement.

Not everyone enjoys all those advantages. Week Without Driving seeks to remind privileged people — those who have reliable transportation options and the physical means to move — what life is like for people who, for a variety of reasons, cannot drive.

The initiative asks us to advocate for systems change that will improve mobility, which the Mobility Lab, a research center in Arlington, Virginia, defines as having the time to get where you need to go, the ability to afford those transportation options and the safety to walk, bike or take transit.

“Living by a bus that comes once an hour isn’t mobility,” the Mobility Lab says, which is one reason why so many suburbanites drive everywhere. “Owning a car in a city with congested highways isn’t mobility either. To have mobility is to have access.”

Food for thought as we all prepare to vote this election season. Mobility, like other forms of equity, won’t just happen unless we work for it.

Why Seniors Should Ride Mass Transit

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Before we get rolling, understand that my recommendations will apply to older people only if they are physically mobile and relatively fit — and lucky enough to live in a city or community where mass transit is readily available. Being a regular exerciser would be a plus, but what I’m proposing will help people of any age get there.

And my proposal is this: Ditch the car or SUV as often as you reasonably can and commit to trying what we multi-modal enthusiasts call active transportation. That means getting around by foot, bike, bus or train — or some combination of the four — as often as you can.

I use the term “senior” because that is how Metro Transit, my system in the Twin Cities, defines the fare structure for people who are 65 and older. As of January 1 of this year, the bus fare for any senior — call yourself “older,” an “elder” or “young-old,” if you prefer — has dropped to a buck a ride, including during the weekday “rush hours” that COVID rendered almost meaningless.

“We’ve seen travel patterns change,” says Lesley Kandaras, general manager of Metro Transit, who rode every bus and train route during her first year on the job. “We no longer have those weekday peaks of ridership in the early morning and the late afternoon.”

A Metro Transit bus in downtown Minneapolis. Photo by weston m on Unsplash

Transit fares includes a transfer window of two and a half hours, meaning I can meet a friend for a leisurely coffee or attend a yoga class and swing by the grocery store afterward and still get back home on only a dollar.

You can’t drive that cheaply. More importantly, driving robs you of exercise, contemplative time and contact with the outside world, all of which I find to be essential as I age. For those who balk, who say they don’t have time to ride a bus or train, who claim that driving is simply faster and more convenient, I agree with you. It’s why almost 92% of all households in America have at least one vehicle (the most popular being some type of truck).

But consider the following reasons — beyond the obvious value to our warming climate — why active transportation will help sustain you in body, mind and spirit.

No. 1: You exercise more.

I spent a total of $4 the other day riding the bus to and from my volunteer gig at Planned Parenthood North Central States (Route 63 there and 87 back) and then to the iconic Riverview Theater in Minneapolis to see the Oscar-winning “Anora” (don’t bother) with a friend (Route 21).

One route is half a mile from my house, the other five blocks and the third barely two blocks. I’d have saved 60 to 90 minutes of travel time had I driven. But I’d have walked far fewer steps than the 15,000 I amassed that day, and I would have missed the chance to really see my city: to greet people on the sidewalk, chat with a bus driver, notice the colorful murals on the sides of old buildings. To be present in a way you can’t be in a car.

Half of all Americans fail to get the recommended 30 minutes a day of physical activity, according to the National Library of Medicine, and those numbers decrease for both aerobic and muscle-strengthening exercises as women and men age. Using transit can help, because it invariably involves walking: to and from the stops and, in my case, to the next stop — or the one beyond that — if the bus or train is running late.

No. 2: You forge your independence.

My husband and I deliver Meals on Wheels every Friday, and we see plenty of old people who no longer have the physical capability to leave their apartment without assistance.

I remember this well with my own parents: Mom eventually was confined to a room, and my dad, though never wheelchair-bound, gradually lost the ability to pursue the activities he enjoyed, including jogging, golfing, skiing and even walking outdoors. Much as I fear losing my mobility, I recognize the time will come when I no longer can stride to the train station or run to a waiting bus.

That’s why I am grateful to be able to use mass transit now. It keeps me healthy and helps me feel part of the world at an age — post-career — when people’s worlds start to shrink. I feel more independent the less I rely on a car, and I get to meet people I otherwise might not encounter, including the folks I chatted with (below) during opening day festivities for the Gold Line bus rapid transit that now serves downtown St. Paul and the eastern suburbs.

George Wojcicki
Nikki Villavicencio

No. 3: You engage with the elements

Why live in Minnesota if you shrink from each season’s particular joys and challenges? Earlier this year, on the coldest day of winter, the dental receptionist and mammogram technician were astonished that I had bused to my healthcare appointments. I was equally mystified why they would scrape their windshields and drive on icy roads.

To prove my point, I drew up a list of practical tips for riding mass transit, whether the weather is below zero or cresting 100 degrees. Chief among them: Learn the tools to plan your travel. (ProTip: The Transit app is great!)

How people dress for a bus ride when it’s minus 4 degrees.
  1. Exchange mobile numbers with whomever you will be meeting. Buses and trains, at least in my town, often run slightly off schedule.
  2. Protect yourself from crime by investing in a sturdy backpack so you can walk with your arms free and keep valuables out of sight. I’ve been annoyed by loud music and occasional public drinking on a bus, but no one has ever threatened me. The light-rail trains can be intimidating to ride, with less access to a driver. But Metro Transit has reduced trains to two cars — removing the middle car, where drug use was often visible — and begun employing trip agents who check fares and provide a reassuring unarmed presence.
  3. Pack a water bottle, Kleenex (especially useful in cold temperatures) and sunscreen, important in any season. An extra hat or scarf during the winter and a bill cap to shield your face from summer sun are also useful.
  4. Catch up on your reading. I often stuff newspapers inside my backpack, and I read my digital subscription for the New York Times or a book I’ve downloaded on my iPhone.

No. 4: You get to practice patience.

Transit ridership falls off after age 55, according to Metro Transit research, and is miniscule for people 75 and older. But that 20-year window is a time when many of us, if we’re lucky, still have relatively good health. Kandaras, the general manager, hasn’t researched the question of why seniors stop riding transit, “but we want to make it more attractive to adults who are older,” she says.

I can think of several incentives to get my peers out of their vehicles:

  • The reality that driving gets harder as your reaction time slows, and people seem to be driving ever faster these days.
  • It feels good not to be contributing to the carbon emissions that are killing our planet. In fact, says Kandaras, one group of older adults “said to hit home with climate.”
  • Mass transit is more calming than driving. You can read, or just watch the world go by.

That last reason is the most compelling for me. After an adult lifetime of pushing, achieving, trying to live up to expectations, doing what, in hindsight, feels like too much — likely because I no longer can multitask — I appreciate the chance to sit back and relax while I get where I need to go.

“Leave the driving to us,” the old Greyhound Lines slogan said. It was coined in 1956, the year before I was born, when the U.S. automobile market was starting to boom. Turns out, the slogan was meant to woo people who had the option to drive, which is exactly what transit agencies must do if they want to return to pre-pandemic ridership levels.

Mass transit will never win in an argument about convenience, especially among middle-class people who own a car and, therefore, have choices. But peace of mind? Any of us, at any age, could use more of that.

Driving yourself crazy? Sell your car

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I have structured my life so I can live without a car. That choice may seem impossible, and, at times, it is impractical. Like any counter-cultural behavior, it initially requires effort to adjust.

I can attest, however, that car-free living is a healthful, fiscally responsible and even joyful pursuit in later middle age.

When I travel for work to Chicago, New York, Washington, D.C., and other big cities, I never rent a car. I stay in the heart of downtown and use mass transit, and my feet. That discipline is doable in the Twin Cities, too, even if you practice it only on certain days.

Discipline? Practice? Some people shrink from those words. Certainly, I make use of my husband’s vehicle — a 9-year-old, manual-transmission pickup — when I want to get to my weekend yoga class or my favorite suburban dog park. It also helps that the two reasons for my old Soccer Mom van have grown and gone.

My purpose is not to suggest that you never drive again at all. Nor do I intend to sermonize or gloat. My hope is to convince you that driving less — and using alternative forms of transportation more often — is a calming, community-minded, Earth-conscious habit that, like mindful eating, becomes easier and more self-sustaining over time.

Five benefits of a car-free lifestyle

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Benefit 1: I exercise more. I seldom post in the 10,000 Steps Facebook group I joined because, unlike the other participants, I rarely struggle to achieve that goal. Between walking to and from work, having a job that requires me to move throughout the neighborhood, and riding the bus or train to my appointments — which generally involves some walking — I have my feet on the street an average of 4 miles a day.

A Metro Transit ad in the still transit-lacking Twin Cities claims that people who commute by bus or train walk 20 percent more than do those who drive to work. More than 76 percent of Americans commute to work in their own cars, a 12-point jump from 1980.

Having access to your own vehicle is more convenient and saves you time. I hear that often from over-stressed workers and working parents. Even if they changed their commuting habits only one day a week, they would recognize how physical exercise can actually help them unwind and relax.

Benefit 2: I save money. My older son, who now owns my red Toyota Prius, pays $1,150 a year for car insurance. I routinely spent $200 a month on gas during the years I commuted from Northfield to St. Paul. My transit card, by contrast, costs about $30 a month, and my employer reimburses me for any work-related rides.

Granted, I am planning to invest in a high-end bicycle for my big birthday in July — a purchase I haven’t made since my college senior was a baby — but I can justify the expense now that I’m no longer servicing a car for my commute.

Benefit 3: I am part of my community. Living in the urban core makes a multimodal lifestyle both easy to navigate and an adventure. I am a 12-minute walk from the Green Line train to the north, a Whole Foods store to the east and the charming Grandview Theater to the south.

If I drove to these locations, I would lose the opportunity to observe architecture, peruse Little Free Libraries, and smile at barking dogs and blooming trees. I also would miss the chance to greet my neighbors. “In yesteryear’s compact, pedestrian-friendly communities, people walked to church and corner stores, and talked with friends on front porches while kids played in streets and alleys,” writes Katie Alvord in Divorce Your Car! (New Society Publishers, 2000). “Making communities walker-friendly can bring back that lifestyle.”

Each of us has the ability — and the authority — to take back our streets from the growing dominance of cars in our fast-paced culture. The City of Minneapolis has a pedestrian advisory committee. St. Paul Smart Trips, in my town, sponsors “St. Paul Walks.” Go online to sign a pledge that, as a driver, you will always stop for pedestrians at crosswalks, whether marked or unmarked. See it as an opportunity to catch your breath.

Benefit 4: I have time to think and read. As a hyper-scheduled person, I need enforced alone time. I use my bus and train rides to read the news on my iPhone, to catch up on e-mail and, sometimes, just to rest my eyes. Leave the driving to us? Happy to do so.

Benefit 5: I mingle with folks outside my middle-class bubble. Charles Zelle, commissioner of the Minnesota Department of Transportation, spoke at a recent Saint Paul Chamber of Commerce luncheon about concrete and bridges, the ride-sharing services Uber and Lyft, making the state’s transportation system “work for the next generation” and the inherent class bias that underlies the resistance to mass transit.

We have to deal with “the identity politics of transit,” Zelle said, “the notion that ‘those people’” ride the bus or train, that “we don’t take transit.”

We, of course, is the professional middle class, people who see their own car as their birthright. As a Caucasian, I am often a minority on mass transit — except for the Blue Line when it is heading from the suburbs to a Twins game or the express commuter bus between Uptown in Minneapolis and downtown St. Paul.

I have seen homeless people on the Green Line lugging everything they own. I have sat amid boisterous Somali-American boys who disrupted my reading. I have quietly changed seats when a mentally ill person began to spout obscenities. I have never felt threatened or afraid.

This is the world. This helps me recognize my privilege and inspires me to work toward a greater understanding of why mass transit is essential, for all of us.