On March 13 The New York Times ran a feature entitled “Planes, Trains, And a Vintage Cab,” chronicling the adventures of three intrepid reporters who set out to discover the fastest and most practical way to travel from Washington D.C. to New York. One reporter took the shuttle, one drove his car, and one boarded Amtrak’s new Acela Express. (The shuttle won, taking the reporter exactly three hours to make it from the White House to City Hall Park in lower Manhattan. The train came in second. And the 1973 Checker Marathon puttered in over an hour after the first two reporters had arrived.)
In the Current’s unabashed attempt to be like the Times, we thought it would be fun to try a similar experiment. So, last week, one intrepid Current editor embarked on a similar adventure.
She traveled from 14th and Washington streets in Hoboken to the corner of Christopher Street and Seventh Avenue in the heart of Manhattan’s West Village on three consecutive days – via PATH, ferry and her mom’s Jeep Wrangler, to see which was the quickest and most practical mode of transportation.
Monday
The runner-up (elapsed time: 36 minutes)
It was a glorious 72 degrees with comfortable humidity as I exited the Hudson Reporter, located on the northwest corner of 14th and Washington streets in Hoboken, last Monday at exactly 5 p.m. Crossing 14th Street can often be treacherous, but last Monday it was a breeze.
At 5:04 p.m., I boarded an extremely air-conditioned Academy Bus, paid the $1 fare, and found a seat in the third row. Reading on buses often makes me queasy, so I kept my book in my bag and stared out the window, regretting that I didn’t bring an extra sweater.
At 5:06 p.m. the bus stopped at 12th Street to pick up a passenger. At 5:07 p.m. the bus stopped at 10th Street to pick up another passenger. At 5:08 p.m. the bus stopped at Eighth Street to pick up yet another passenger … You get the point. At 5:14 p.m. the bus reached its final destination, the Erie Lackawanna Train Terminal.
With my Quick Card in hand, I bolted from the bus hoping, praying, that a 33rd Street train wouldn’t leave the station while my card was being whisked through the machine. (The Quick Card will not only save you 30 cents per PATH ride, but will also spare you the certain aggravation of trying to insert a dollar bill into one of those oft-fussy machines.) While there was no train, there was a handful of people waiting for one – always a good sign. Travelers had time accumulate, which meant I didn’t just miss a train.
At 5:15 p.m. I found a seat on a bench and opened Den of Thieves, James Stewart’s bestseller about the Ivan Boesky, Michael Milken insider-trading scandal that nearly destroyed Wall Street in the late ’80s.I only had time to read one sentence because at 5:17 p.m. the train arrived.
Unlike my counter commuters, I waited for the passengers to exit the train before I began to board. At 5:23 p.m. the train set off for 33rd Street. At 5:25 p.m. the train stopped for an unspecified reason. At 5:26 the train started again. At 5:30 the train arrived at Christopher Street, my first and final stop.
I walked east on Christopher Street, which was lined with well-toned men wearing tank tops and tight shorts. At 5:36 p.m., exactly 36 minutes after I left the Hudson Reporter, I arrived at Seventh Avenue in the heart of Manhattan’s West Village.
Tuesday
The also-ran (elapsed time: 46 minutes) It was almost 80 degrees with pleasant humidity when I left the Hudson Reporter, located on the northwest corner of 14th and Washington streets in Hoboken, last Tuesday at exactly 5 p.m. I walked past the Shipyard building to the site where NY Waterway recently installed a ferry terminal. I arrived at the NY Waterway hut at 5:03 p.m., purchased a $4 one-way ticket to Manhattan, and was informed that the next ferry would depart at 5:20 p.m.
I found a bench in the shade, broke out Den of Thieves and waited for the ferry to arrive.
At 5:16 p.m., a red, white and blue boat named John Jay appeared at the dock. I found a seat on the upper deck, and, at 5:19 p.m., we set sail for Midtown Manhattan.
With the wind in my hair, the sun on my back and Manhattan’s regal skyline in the distance, I felt like I was in the middle of a Woody Allen movie. I could almost hear the Leonard Bernstein Orchestra performing Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue.”
Eight minutes later, having made no unspecified stops, we docked at NY Waterway’s 38th Street terminal where a polite NY Waterway employee directed me towards a complimentary NY Waterway bus that would take me downtown, making all local stops. At 5:39 the bus dropped me off on the corner of 14th Street and Seventh Avenue. And, after a pleasant stroll down Seventh Avenue, at 5:46 p.m., exactly 46 minutes after I left the Hudson Reporter, I arrived at the corner of Christopher Street in the heart of Manhattan’s West Village.
Wednesday
The winner (elapsed time: 34 minutes)
It was almost 90 degrees, and the humidity was rising, when I exited the Hudson Reporter, located on the northwest corner of 14th and Washington streets in Hoboken, last Wednesday at exactly 5 p.m. My mother was waiting for me, perched behind the wheel of her dark green Jeep Wrangler. (Since I don’t own a car, my mom was kind enough to help me with the last leg of my experiment.)
I jumped into the Jeep and cranked up the radio as mom peeled out of the parking space. Sporting horn-rimmed sunglasses and singing Madonna, we made our way down Washington Street. We were like Thelma and Louise, reveling in the freedom of the open road.
As luck would have it, traffic was light on Wednesday. At 5:15 my mom flew through a Holland Tunnel EZ Pass lane, which cost her $5. (Without EZ Pass, the Holland Tunnel toll is $6.)
Unfortunately, things on the other side of the river weren’t as breezy. We crept up Sixth Avenue, which was mired in traffic leaving the city. Fortunately, fortune quickly found us again. At 5:29 p.m., my mom found the perfect parking spot on the corner of Bedford and Barrow streets, just blocks away from my final destination. We meandered down quaint tree-lined streets, and, at 5:34 p.m., exactly 34 minutes after we left the Hudson Reporter, we arrived at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Christopher Street in the heart of Manhattan’s West Village.