[What follows is one of the many articles in the Mercury‘s 2026 Transportation issue. Find a print copy here, subscribe to get a copy mailed to you here, and if you’re feeling generous and want to keep these types of articles coming, support us here.—eds.]
How do you decide what mode of transportation to use on a daily basis? If you’re like most people, that decision is primarily based on habit and perceived convenience—not necessarily because you considered all possible options and made your choice based on thoughtful, evidence-based analysis.
Luckily, your friends at the Mercury took on this daunting task in the most scientific way possible: a race. On a rainy Friday afternoon in March, six Mercury staffers set out to determine which mode of transportation is the fastest way to get around Portland—or, at least, a certain part of Portland.
The stakes were high. The winner would take home a lifetime of fame, glory, and unending respect from their colleagues and the world at large. But it was bigger than that: We would decide once and for all which is the fastest mode of urban transportation in the land (that land being Portland). The extremely scientific nature of this experiment meant the results would undoubtedly be taken very seriously by the city’s transportation experts and power players, and could possibly even determine future funding opportunities for roads, public transit, and bike lanes. In short? This shit was important.
Here’s who joined the race and the vehicles they used:
Andrew Harlan: Social media manager, electric bike
Katherine Chew Hamilton: Managing editor, regular boring bike
Jeremiah Hayden: News reporter, car (boooo)
Lindsay Costello: Staff writer, passenger in Jeremiah’s car (also boooo, but less boooo)
Suzette Smith: Culture editor/champion of the people, TriMet bus
Wm. Steven Humphrey: editor-in-chief/bon vivant, a child’s Razor scooter
The rules of the race:
Meet at Portland City Hall at 4 pm—rush hour. Hop on your preferred mode of transportation to cross the river and finish at the Hollywood Theatre. Right before starting, racers learned they would also be required to make two stops along the way: first, at Pioneer Courthouse Square, where they’d need to take a selfie with the sculpture entitled Allow Me, AKA the well-dressed guy with an umbrella. Then, they’d need to stop at Trader Joe’s and purchase a snack, ostensibly to sneak into the Hollywood Theatre, the final stop of the race. (This was a purely fictional scenario. The Mercury doesn’t condone sneaking snacks into independent cinemas. Much.)
But unexpected things—events one might even describe as “hijinks”—can happen when you’re zipping across town. You might need to make some “sudden, unfair changes” to your route. There might even be “sudden, unfair changes” to the rules which might throw your entire, carefully planned route out of whack. This is what our racers had to contend with. And THIS is how you do “science.”
The race starts at City Hall: the “people’s building,” or whatever they say. There’s a light drizzle, but nothing too serious. The mood is upbeat, with everyone confident about the race ahead. Steve, who pulls an embarrassingly small child’s Razor scooter out of his backpack, seems especially—perhaps suspiciously—certain about his chances of winning. Suzette, who had been unshaken in her insistence that “the bus is best,” says she grew slightly alarmed upon finding out participants would be required to make stops along the way. “I wonder if I’ve completely lost the competition just with that,” Suzette says. “Buses in Portland are too infrequent to facilitate easy stops.” At roughly 4:20 pm, after a verbal countdown (reimbursement requests for a starter pistol were unfairly denied), everyone leapt from the starting line, scrambling their way north.
En route to the next stop, and not even two blocks away from the starting line, Steve is spotted surreptitiously tucking his childish Razor toy into his backpack, and renting a Lime electric scooter.
Pioneer Courthouse Square, AKA “Portland’s living room,” is a mere 0.3 miles north from City Hall. Steve rolls up on his suddenly electric scooter, which no one seems to notice. It’s especially easy for those on bikes and scooters to make the selfie pit stop and continue on their way. Suzette manages to make it to the square relatively quickly, but the brief pause causes her to miss the first available MAX train to the Hollywood Transit Center. The racers who arrive first also have to duke it out with each other, and some sightseers, for space next to the umbrella man. Jeremiah and Lindsay look for parking. They find a spot a couple blocks away, pause to pay $1.35 for parking, walk to the statue, and return to the car. These inconveniences put them squarely in last place.
Technically, racers can stop at any Trader Joe’s for their “pre-movie” purchase, but they will certainly lose if they choose any location other than the one right by the Hollywood Theatre. Besides, the next closest Trader Joe’s location closed earlier that week due to asbestos contamination. Steve zips toward the Broadway Bridge, while Katherine, Andrew, and Suzette (by way of the MAX), cross the river via the Steel Bridge, and Jeremiah and Lindsay battle the traffic while driving over the Morrison. Andrew and Steve arrive at Trader Joe’s at almost exactly the same time. But once again, Steve has a trick up his sleeve, having sneakily pre-purchased his snack the night before. The fact that he was privy to the Trader Joe’s stop represents a failure on the part of the race planner.
Suzette arrives next, and gets overcharged for her purchase. Jeremiah and Lindsay lackadaisically stroll in while Katherine is still locking up her bike. Interestingly, Katherine exits the store seven full minutes before the drivers emerge. Jeremiah and Lindsay appear to circle the aisles multiple times in search of the ideal snack. They look for drinks. They talk to an employee near the cheese section. They chat casually with the cashier. When they’re finally done, they’re shocked to discover they’re in dead last place.
“I’m reflecting on my own assumptions—chiefly, that we had time and would be ahead in this race. Joke’s on me!!” Lindsay bemoaned. Well, at least she recognizes it.
At this point, it’s raining pretty hard. So it’s understandable that many did not react well to the news that (plot twist!) the finish line is actually supposed to be at the Laurelhurst Theater. Many do not believe the announcement, which is delivered to the racers by Mercury publisher James Deeley, who some say heartlessly giggles while sharing the surprise. The new ending location is easier for some to accommodate than others. Again, the bikers and scooter-riders discover the flexibility of their modes, even though they’re also the most exposed to the elements. Suzette is also tired of the rain, and tired of the bus transfers, describing the “prank” change of plans as “incredibly cringe.” Unsurprisingly, Jeremiah and Lindsay find out about the new finish line last. Lindsay already made plans to get picked up from the Hollywood Theatre, and decides this race is “stupid” and leaves Jeremiah to sullenly return to his car and make the final part of the journey alone.
Steve books it through the Laurelhurst neighborhood (which he calls “a haven for white-collar criminals”) before switching back to his Razor scooter on the final block and crossing the finish line first at the Laurelhurst Theater. He officially (and loudly) declares himself the winner, despite the fact he fooled no one with his child’s toy/Lime scooter switcheroo. Andrew screeches up 30 seconds behind him. Katherine arrives minutes later in third place, followed by Jeremiah (who took forever), followed by Suzette (longer than forever). The fact that it took roughly 45 minutes for Suzette to get to the new, surprise finish line has understandably irritated her, particularly because it involved walking to a new bus stop, waiting for the bus to arrive, and walking from another bus stop, all in increasingly intense rain. It’s almost 6 pm now and everyone wants to go home. The racers disperse in various states of mind—mostly irritated and angry at the race organizer, whose only goal was to advance science.
The Mercury‘s Totally Scientific, Final, and Undeniably Conclusive Analysis
The idea that cars are the best method of transportation has undeniably shaped American cities, including Portland, at the expense of all other modes. Call me annoying—whatever—but you know I’m right. We have way more freeways and big thoroughfares for cars than bike or bus-priority lanes. Car parking is everywhere, even if it seems like you can’t ever find a good spot. But what if cars aren’t actually the best way to get around?
There’s some pretty good evidence that cars cause or contribute to major problems, like the destruction of the planet we all live on, for example, and around a million deaths every year. Counterpoint: They go fast. Counter-counterpoint: Do they, though? And at what cost? If our little experiment is to be believed, there are at least SOME scenarios where cars aren’t king.
Consider the unfortunate fact of parking. As Jeremiah and Lindsay’s experience demonstrates, it’s one thing to get from one place to the next, but once you have to get out of the car, things can get weird. You might have to circle Pioneer Courthouse Square over and over again to find a spot. You might run into chaos in the Trader Joe’s parking lot, which is notoriously awful (Andrew called it a “slow-moving Fury Road”), but really only for those in cars. This can add significant time to one’s trip, particularly if you’re as relaxed about the whole thing as our two car people were. Also, when you’re driving, you’ve gotta deal with traffic, and gas is really expensive—especially now. In summary, bikes/scooters are solid enough contenders in the battle of modes that we should have protected bike lanes on all of East Burnside Street and Sandy Boulevard. (Fight me!)
It took all the participants roughly the same amount of time (between 31 and 38 minutes, give or take) to get from City Hall to Trader Joe’s. Here’s what the experience was like for everyone: Suzette, who took the MAX, did some light editing work while she sat on the train. Katherine noted some pleasant surprises as she biked: the first magnolia blooms of the season, a tiny dog in a yellow coat, a big dog with a white mustache, a person running barefoot while wearing a raincoat. Andrew rode on the top deck of the Steel Bridge, which wasn’t fun, but had nothing but positive things to report otherwise. Steve complained that electric scooters are capped at riding 15 miles per hour and wasn’t pleased with the experience of riding through Irvington, which he called “the most blighted, ugly-ass neighborhood in all of Portland,” but it’s clear he actually had fun.
Jeremiah and Lindsay both said the traffic wasn’t all that bad (they took surface streets, not I-84), but when individually reflecting on the overall experience of driving a car, neither had very positive things to say. Lindsay reported that, while she appreciates some of the benefits of the car (it’s warm, relatively quiet, and can fit stuff), she isn’t keen on the expensive maintenance and would like to be able to read on the bus.
“Plus, driving is just sort of scary,” Lindsay said. “The truth is, I often use my car because my mental landscape tells me that anything other than the path of least resistance is insurmountable.”
Jeremiah said he used to bike more for transportation, but has been driving more lately, since moving to East Portland last summer.
“Bikes bring so much joy to transit. I found myself in a better mood, both from the exercise and the general lack of road rage,” he said. “But East Portland is built for big fossil fuel machines and the idea of biking on these main thoroughfares gives me more anxiety than I’m willing to take on, so I drive, which gives me even more anxiety… but I guess I’m not sweaty when I get to work? Is that the main tradeoff? I think it is.”
Steve very much enjoyed zipping through town on his Lime scooter… until he noticed the charge for riding from downtown into Southeast. “TWENTY-FOUR DOLLARS?? ARE YOU FAWKING KIDDING MEEEEEEE?!?”
Now, before you accuse us of being biased against cars, remember that Suzette is the contender who actually placed last. She would have beaten three people if the race had actually ended at the Hollywood Theatre, but the last-minute switch did her in. The point of that switch-up was not to infuriate my colleagues, but to represent the unexpected changes that can occur during real-world commutes. I think you should be able to stay at your destination a little longer than planned, or run an impromptu errand, without triggering a domino effect that ruins your whole day. Unfortunately, we would need more robust public transit for that to be the case for Portland bus and MAX riders. Still, Suzette looks on the bright side, pointing out that “if you’re not taking the bus, you’re missing a lot of weird sights.” Plus, there’s the opportunity to form camaraderie with the bus driver, which always feels great.
Claims of scientific rigor aside, it would clearly require more than one Mercury staff race to truly determine the best mode of transportation to get around Portland. (And a reprise would probably rip our team apart, so don’t count on it.) We’d need to experiment with longer routes, as well as those outside of the central city. In those cases, cars very well might win, and the other participants might have a worse time navigating very scary traffic. All I’m saying is that sometimes, even in our car-centered world, the underdog comes out ahead—so imagine what could happen if we invested more in other modes of transportation? Also, if you put a kid’s scooter in your backpack and huff and puff whenever you arrive somewhere, you can trick some people.
Special thanks to Cameron Crowell, who helped with video and made sure Steve didn’t kill himself (or others) on the Lime scooter, and James Deeley, who also lended his videography skills and broke the wretched news of the movie theater mix-up.
