It was the last weekend of SXSW, and there was no way in hell I was driving anywhere downtown, no matter what the event. So when it came time to join my fellow Yelpers at Yelp's SXSW Backyard Blowout, Shannon B. offered a helpful tip that the MLK metrorail stop is a mere 0.6 miles from the selected venue. I hate driving on a regular day (and I hate the frustration of finding parking even more), so it looked like I was on my way to ride the Cap Metro Rail for the first time ever.
Nervous about the complex workings of any public transportation system, I found an instructional YouTube video from Cap Metro that explained the entire process. Yes, I really did this. And it helped immensely in calming my stress.
I still can't believe Austin has some form of a train. My check-in at Lakeline Station also made it clear I kinda felt like a dirty European socialist for using it. I purchased my pre-validated, all-day 24-hour ticket at a machine kiosk for $5.50. Not bad. Keep in mind, Lakeline Station is a Park & Ride, so you can leave your car if need be.
I took a seat on the platform and waited for the train leaving at 12:16. No more than a minute after mentioning European socialists, the first people I noticed was a German family jabbering away in their native tongue. Can I call it or what? Eventually, a train pulled up a good 20-25 minutes before it was set to leave. I received information through a lady speaking to the conductor that this was our ride, and that we had the option to wait on the platform or onboard. I wanted a seat, so I chose the car closest to me.
I was joined by several other SXSWers and obvious first-timers. When a group of eight noisy children came aboard our car, it was if a silent alarm went off for me and the other twenty-somethings. We all simultaneously looked at each other and wordlessly came to the same decision: we were switching cars. As we exited en masse, one of the girls asked me to confirm that if, like them, I was moving because of the kids. I affirmed that we were all on the same page, and it made me feel like less of a bitch.
I sat in the section meant for the disabled, as it gave me the most legroom. A sweet older couple came on board and sat next to me. They struck up a conversation and prattled on about their grandkids while I kept my fingers crossed that no one blind, deaf, or bound to a wheelchair would evict me from my quite comfortable seat. That did not come to pass.
We left Lakeline station and moved at a decent clip down the tracks. For the majority of the trip, I had no idea where the hell we were, as the landmarks of warehouses, backroads, and biker bars did nothing to orient me. It was only when we passed the Mercedes-Benz dealership did I realize we were near Airport Blvd.
If you thought I got away with sitting in the disabled section without God punishing me, you were wrong. With each station, dozens upon dozens of people filled the cars, until I heard the word "sardines" shouted more than once. A young couple turned out to be my travel companions, in the sense they were the ones shoved the closest to me. We got to know each other pretty fast. The guy even joked he might have to sit on my lap. It sounds hot, but it wasn't. I literally had no room to move and as I was still sitting, there was really no safe place to rest my eyes. My only choices were the guy's armpit, or his girlfriend's crotch. This was a claustrophobic gay guy's nightmare, and it was verging on the unbearable.
The older lady and I both agreed that it was SXSW and SXSW alone that could account for all these extra bodies. Whenever I think of the train, I imagine no more than two lone people riding it at any given time. Somewhere around the 3rd or 4th stop, people were simply refused entry, because there was absolutely no room for them. The people on the platform were livid, and we were even delayed a couple minutes by someone who refused to take "no" for an answer. God. Here I was trying to avoid an Austin clusterf*ck, and I was smack dab in the middle of one.
The fun part began when I was actually getting off at MLK, before downtown. The young guy next to me yelled to everyone by the door that I'd be getting off soon, and to make way. I'm good at giving orders to people, but I was so glad that guy was there to do it for me. I wouldn't want to piss off an already volatile crowd and have them crush me to death. Of all the places I could die, the metrorail is one of the least appealing.
I finally escaped that narrow, crowded Bastille, but not without my new friends bidding me good luck. I genuinely wished them the same. I mean, they did stand by me through a dark and troubling time.
Since I realize the crowds were an anomaly, I'd say my overall experience with the train was positive. If I need to get downtown, I might give it a whirl again.
Except next time, I'll avoid the disabled section and sit in a regular seat. No matter how empty the train is. (Sorry, God).
4 Stars. read more