My adventures with the 23 continue. Last week I essentially raced it home every day. Three consecutive days I passed it at the corner of Carnegie and Ontario and caught up with it on the other side of the bridge. I’ve got no pseudo-math to throw at this experiment, but my gut tells me that, at least on the return trip, it is a wash determining which is faster: my bike or the bus.
The bus always gets to the corner of Clark and Scranton about a minute before me, but I’d have to walk home from there so the bike makes up for that. Similarly, I’d have to walk to the bus stop on Ontario by Public Square to catch the 23, which means that I’d have to wait for the one after the one I’ve been racing since I can’t walk twelve blocks as quickly as I can ride them.
I know for sure that my morning commute is faster than the 23, since I don’t have to make all of those early morning stops to pick folks up. I know that no one cares, even I don’t, really.