I am a big fan of the public transportation, having lived in New York City without a car for four years. And the opportunities for using public transportation in Los Angeles in practical, meaningful ways have blossomed over the last decade. Perhaps the coolest of options are the Metro-operated light rail lines that transect the LA basin. You can go from North Hollywood to Long Beach using the Red and Blue Lines, or from LAX to Pasadena using the Green and Gold Lines for example. Or you can commute from the San Fernando Valley to Downtown Los Angeles- and back- for work as I do on the Red Line at least three days a week.

The Red Line is usually great. It is on a regular schedule, runs on-time, and takes me about 26 minutes from the Universal Studios Hollywood stop to the Pershing Square stop. But on Tuesday of this week I had a little adventure.

On the return from Downtown to my home we had stopped at the second to last stop on my route- Hollywood & Highland- and started toward the Universal City station. We came to a stop after a few minutes of riding, which is not abnormal; sometimes the trains have to wait until another train clears the tunnel ahead. But we stopped for 2-3 minutes. And then 4. And then 5. Finally, the conductor spoke briefly into the intercom: “Hold on…it’s the brakes”.

She came out of her conductor room and stopped at one of the seats, asking the person seated there to get up. She opened a panel and fiddled with something inside. She then walked to the other end of the car I was in and did the same thing at another seat. She then walked through the door at the end of our car into the adjacent car, likely with the same intention.

She came back a few minutes later- we had been stopped for 10-15 minutes at this point- walked into her room, and informed us that the brakes were completely out and that she had called a technician. People around me rumbled. “I can’t believe this”; “I’ve got to be at work at 6:30pm”; “Do you have snacks for us?” And though I didn’t say anything I was cogitating too because at 5:30pm I was supposed to relieve the nanny who watches over our six month old daughter- and it was now 5:45pm. I would have called but cell reception is not too good when you are 100 feet beneath the ground and surrounded by concrete.

Seated in the last car of the train, I could see down the tunnel and soon enough some reflective orange strips could be seen bobbing and dancing as they got larger and larger- the technicians in their vests were walking up the tunnel toward us. They entered our car and and got to work, repeating some of the actions the conductor had tried earlier. One, a thin older man with a goatee, seemed almost happy as he stated “Total brake failure is rare…but that’s what we got.”

They tinkered for 10 more minutes before finally deeming the job too big for a subway tunnel. They asked all of the passengers to exit their cars and walk down the side of the tracks to the nearest Exit sign. We did so, and I grabbed the railing against the wall as I walked. The walkway was only a couple of feet wide and there was a 10 foot drop to the tracks below, so I figured better safe than sorry. We got to the Exit sign and turned right, went through a room, and appeared on a parallel track where another train was waiting. I entered a door and found a seat, my hand brown and dirty from the walk.

It took 10 minutes or so to get everyone loaded and then we started off toward the next stop- Universal City. After 30 seconds or so of riding I heard people across from me exclaiming that there were people on the walkway in the tunnel ahead. The train stopped and let these people in. We resumed the ride and the same thing happened again. I guess some of the passengers from the first train had gotten fed up and were trying to walk to Universal City?

Anyway, we finally arrived and I emerged from underground. It was now 6:45pm and I was an hour and 15 minutes late relieving the nanny. I called my wife who frantically answered the phone, more relieved at my safety than pissed off at my shirked duty. She had made if home from the gym at 6:30pm and immediately called all of my phone numbers and checked with possible acquaintances when I wasn’t there to greet her.

When all was said and done, our nanny was a little late picking up her own children that night, our daughter was a little fussy having not eaten at her usual time, and my wife and I were a little frazzled at the stress introduced into our evening. But, ultimately, everthing is fine. And I will ride the Red Line again.