Four Years Ago…
…I posted the photo collage above with the following observations after detaching from my car and moving to a tiny, LEED certified studio in downtown Denver (not exactly famous for public transportation so I was a bit nervous):
people are NICE. Construction workers, garbage collectors, unhoused people. A lot of good can come from offering a smile.
people are DUMB. And not as good at self-preservation as you'd think. Stand at any intersection of cars, bikes, scooters and pedestrians and try to convince me otherwise.
urban light is magical. Sure, I already knew this. But this lifelong night owl getting up to watch the sunrise is nothing short of shocking.
I am officially car-less and *love* not worrying about how much carbon I’m emitting when I fire up the engine. Or where I parked the car, or how much time is left on the meter, or did I buy gas or will that jerk on my ass stop in time…
it thrills me to get everywhere I need to go on foot, carrying only what I can fit in my backpack.
it thrills me that if I can't get somewhere on foot, there's this public service called "the bus" and it's surprisingly great.
having a tiny framed mountain view between high-rise buildings might be even better than the whole thing. Frames make you see things differently.
living tiny is fun. It forces you to be more creative and intentional with your things. As a lifelong clutter-lover, for the first time in my life I enjoy putting things away... Somebody slap me upside the head that Marie Kondo actually resonated (speaking of which, if you need anything, I recently dropped it off at the GoodWill in Stapleton).
owning my first real bed frame at 48 is outrageous. Though it concerns me that my whole sleeping-situation looks so cozy in a 520sf studio all day long.
having over nineteen independent coffee shops within walking distance: living the dream, baby.
living between two sets of train tracks means I can keep my glutes in shape daily by opting to ascend urban staircases.
living between two sets of train tracks (including a stop on Amtrak’s California Zephyr and the A-line to downtown from the airport) means I get to witness reunions every day on my walking commute. Never gets old.
living between two sets of train tracks means I hear the gentle whistle daily, feel the power of engines moving freight efficiently across the country and am constantly aware of how connected we are. The architecture/urban planning student in me is constantly abuzz.
unexpected irony no 1: my square footage has cut in half but I feel like my space has grown exponentially. My living room now stretches for miles in every direction from my front door.
unexpected irony no. 2: I’m officially without my car, yet I feel more free than ever.
Four Years Later…
…after four full cycles of the seasons that whole list still stands (though the number of coffee shops has varied and I have definitely acquired new stuff, mostly books). I’d just add a few things:
The thermal efficiency of apartment living in a LEED certified building is impressive. My heat and AC have only turned on a handful of times in four years, and only in the most extreme, weeks-long temperature events (an apartment-wide low-energy air circulation system helps). My utilities are equivalent to the cost of about four-to-five cups of coffee. Every month. Year round.
What started as an anxiety-ridden choice to get rid of the car has turned into a non-negotiable, far-happier lifestyle for me. I’ve missed my car exactly three times (all during fall when I most feel the urge to drive aimlessly through mountain foliage — thankfully, Amtrak and Bustang can still get me there, as I wrote about here). I can no longer even imagine burning my own fossil fuels to transport only me in a whole private vehicle to a grocery store or coffee shop.
People talk about the “personal sacrifices” of living more sustainably… but after four years I can honestly say: cutting even some of the rope that binds us to the daily burning of fossil fuels is not a sacrifice. It is an incalculable gift.
A postscript on the power of the aggregate:
This past summer, RTD’s Free Fare for Better Air (in which bus and rail fares were free for July and August in an effort to get people out of their cars) reduced greenhouse gas emissions on the Front Range by more than 6 million pounds.
People say one person can’t make a difference but I call bullshit: that 6 million pound reduction was comprised of a bunch of “one persons.” Every choice to walk, bike or opt for public transportation adds up. Makes a difference… plus, you’re removing your dollars from the fossil fuel industry.
Obviously I recognize that it’s not possible to give up a car for most people living in the US. But it’s hard to deny that it’s a huge chunk of eliminating our fossil fuel emissions.
My main conclusion four years into this experiment: we need to do so much better in demanding and providing better public transportation options in, around, and connecting our cities and beyond. Because not only are we healthier and happier walking, biking or reading a book on a smooth, traffic-free commute, we open up more space for trees, gathering places and the quality of cities — not just the air but the ambiance, safety and aesthetic — dramatically improves.
More trees and more trains. This is my love language…
…and I may have just set my intention for the new year…
Until next time, keep leaving those good footprints, my friends!
Thank you for sharing this. I stopped owning a car about seventeen years ago ... but since the pandemic I find myself so much more often taking a car (a Lyft, a Waymo, a ride with a friend) and while ride-sharing does have some sustainability benefits, it's not nearly as good as walking or busses or trains. So this reminded me that I want to get back to doing more by doing less.
I love this, Jennifer, and am so happy you're happy! You inspire me. I'm still not driving on Saturdays 96% of the time and, maybe, when I get more organized, I can make that rule stick for an entire weekend. Working on it (and getting an EV...hopefully in 2024). xo