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Photo by Anne Burke UCLA Today “People are aghast that I don’t drive,” says bus commuter Mark Dyball, executive chef at the medical center. Dyball enjoys reading political nonfiction on the MTA.

The 'green' road to work and back

by anne burke
ucla today staff

A lot of Mark Dyball’s coworkers wonder if there’s maybe something wrong with him. He thinks they’re the ones who might be a little nuts.

Dyball, the executive chef at the UCLA Medical Center, does not drive and never has. To get to work, he hops on a bus a couple blocks from his home in Hollywood near La Brea Avenue and Santa Monica Boulevard. It takes about 40 minutes — 20 minutes longer if he drops off his 3-year-old daughter Bea at preschool.

By taking the bus, he saves about $70 a month, gets a lot of reading done and is a good environmental steward. Still, he said, “people are aghast that I don’t drive.”

“I just don’t get that mentality,” said the British-born Dyball. “If there’s a traffic jam, they get frustrated, whereas I’m just sitting on the bus relaxed, reading my book.”

Dyball is a member of a surprisingly large yet often unseen subculture of UCLA employees who get to work by bus, carpool, vanpool, bicycle or the original bipedal transportation device — their feet.

While about 46% of UCLA’s approximately 28,000 faculty and staff drive alone to work, 10% carpool, 7% ride vanpools, and another 9% use public transit, according to UCLA Transportation Services. Another 5% hoof it, and 1% ride bicycles. Employees on vacation, out sick or on jury duty, telecommuters and others account for the remainder.

While many employees refuse to give up the personal freedom and flexibility that come with driving alone to work, some who’ve made the switch say they’ll never go back.

Dawn Setzer fought the Los Angeles freeway wars for five years, commuting from her Glendale apartment to her job directing communications for the UCLA Library. “I had a moment where I said to myself, ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ ” she said.

Setzer now leaves her car at Verdugo Hills Hospital, where she boards a 15-passenger van with cushioned, high-backed seats. The New Yorker magazines that used to pile up at her home now get read cover to cover.

“Not only has my stress level gone way down, but I’m saving lots of money,” she said. Setzer pays $96 a month, still cheaper when you figure in gas, insurance, and wear and tear on an auto, she said. Vanpool rates max out at $182 a month for far-flung commuters.

Photo by Reed Hutchinson UCLA Photographic Services Vanpool driver Mike Spicer (left) likes having somebody to talk to on the way in.

Some employees, like Mike Spicer, have figured a way to get a free ride. As a vanpool driver, Spicer, who runs UCLA’s hazardous waste program, pays nothing for his commute. On weekday mornings, he leaves his Simi Valley home in a new university-owned GMC van and drives to a local park-and-ride lot off the 118 Freeway, where he picks up his 11 passengers.

Everybody in his van abides by university rules, but Spicer, as the driver, adds a few of his own: One, you must be ready to roll by 6:30 a.m. and if you’re not, bring donuts. Two, be nice. Spicer said his group is chatty and chummy. “I think driving by myself would be pretty boring.”

Arranging a carpool schedule can be tough even for people who live in the same neighborhood. Two coworkers in the animation program in theater, film, and television manage it although they live 30 miles apart.

La Crescenta resident Dug Ward, who manages the program and teaches courses, pulls his PT Cruiser into a Sherman Oaks parking lot about 9:30 a.m. His assistant, Steve Engles, who lives in Woodland Hills, arrives in his Nissan pickup. One vehicle stays behind.

Ward and Engles tend to talk shop. “It’s almost like work,” Ward noted. But the two are saving a lot of money. Each pays $25.50 per month to park (three-person carpoolers each pay $11 a month). Individual permits cost $57 or $70 a month.

The system has its flaws. “Yesterday, he had to wait about half an hour for me because I got stuck in horrible traffic,” Ward said guiltily. If things go completely awry, the two can drive in separately, using the “ride card” that entitles each to park for $5 instead of the regular $7.

Photo by Anne Burke UCLA Today Clint Trammell says strangers tell him all the time how much they like his unrestored 1969 bug. He’s been driving it to work its entire life.

Clint Trammell, an anesthesia technician at the medical center, doesn’t get any breaks on parking. He drives alone to work in a fossil fuel-powered vehicle, just like a lot of people. But when it comes to alternative transportation, Trammell’s ride is hard to beat.

Trammell’s commute car is a 1969 Volkswagen bug that he bought off the lot. He replaced the engine once, but everything else is original, including the spring that pops through the driver’s seat and the faded green paint (which happens to match his scrubs). If you are what you drive, Trammell is probably more like his 1996 Cadillac De Ville. But for getting back and forth to work, the bug suits him fine.

“I don’t really try to impress anyone,” Trammell said.

Photo by Anne Burke UCLA Today Assistant Professor Chiara Sabatti drops off son David, pictured, and daughter Gabrielle on her way in to work.

Some employees ride bicycles to work, but few do so with two small children in tow. Living on Montana Avenue off Veteran Avenue, Chiara Sabatti, an assistant professor of statistics and human genetics, manages to do just that. Each morning, she buckles her 17-month-old son David into a child’s seat on the back of her bicycle. Daughter Gabrielle, 5, straps on a pink helmet (the same color as her bike and backpack), and climbs onto her two-wheeler with training wheels. Mom and daughter pedal across campus to the Fernald Center day care, where David is dropped off. Then Gabrielle replaces him in the child’s seat and leaves her bicycle behind. The duo then heads to Warner Avenue Elementary, where Gabrielle is in kindergarten. Mom continues on to her office.

Though part of their route takes mom and kids on busy streets that aren’t particularly bicycle-friendly, the trio enjoys the ride across campus. “If the band is rehearsing, we’ll stop and listen or look at the pom-pom girls,” said Sabatti, who has neither a driver’s license nor a cell phone.

Riding a bicycle has its drawbacks. If you’re fussy about your hair, forget it because helmets are hard on a gal’s coiffure, said Heather Ladd, a statistical programmer for the Health Sciences Research Center, who rides in to work four miles from her apartment in Palms. “As a female, you just have to make choices,” she said.

Cycling also requires special wardrobe logistics. Greg Hamm, an administrative assistant for the Office of Research Administration, wears jeans and a T-shirt for the ride in from his apartment near Olympic and La Cienega boulevards. His work clothes are neatly folded in his backpack. Hamm changes in the men’s room. “You save a lot of money on dry cleaning and don’t wear out the seat of your pants that way,” he said.

Hot summer weather poses certain hygienic challenges for bike riders. But here’s good news for cyclists and people who work in proximity to them. Low-cost shower facilities should soon be available to bicyclists at the Student Activities Center and Fit Center South.