A PRISONER OF THE MTA TELLS HIS TALE.

Byline: Erik N. Nelson Local View

MOTIONLESS and chilled, waiting on the shoulder of the 405, I had chosen my fate. My companions had not, however. They were working stiffs, bound to their hard plastic seats by income, class and circumstance.

But for the moment, we were bound to each other, prisoners of the Metropolitan Transportation Authority.

Two hours earlier, I had been waiting on the side of Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks for a southbound 561 bus to take me and my mountain bike to LAX, from which I could pedal home.

I had dreamed of combining my frustrated desire to use public transit and my love of cycling into a more satisfying though longer trip home once a week. This was my first attempt. I feared it might end in failure because of a pulled muscle or a sharp object puncturing one of the bike tires.

It took only 50 minutes to bike from work at Warner Center to Sherman Oaks, including the stop at Long's Drugs for headlight batteries. The bus trip to LAX was to be an additional 55 minutes, and the remainder would be an exhausting but rewarding 80 minutes ending with a steep 40-minute climb.

Much to the bemusement of my fellow prisoners on the bus, I was in this for the fun of it.

But Scott was not. He was a security guard on his way home from work when he boarded the 561.

That was only a few minutes before the brakes started grabbing, causing the bus to lurch and hiss to a halt on the shoulder.

This was not the first time Scott had been a prisoner of the MTA.

He remembered a half-dozen times the 561 had broken down, each time causing him to miss his connection at LAX and forcing him to wait another hour for the next bus, sometimes the bus after that. The bus driver said he had waited up to two hours for help to arrive, but this time it would probably arrive sooner because we were on the freeway.

The 561 originates in the MTA's Sun Valley Division bus yard, the bus driver explained. He was about a half-hour into his very long trip when he noticed the back door was spontaneously opening while the bus was in motion. That set off a safety mechanism that stops the bus, and he called his yard to report it.

``I told them about it, and they told me to turn it (the back door) off and keep on driving,'' said the driver, who read a newspaper while waiting for help to arrive.

Poor equipment is a chronic problem in the San Fernando Valley, he continued, echoing statements of those who believe the Valley should have its own transit zone.

``The Valley is always the last place to get new equipment,'' he said to me, Scott and the handful of other passengers, unaware that one of his wards was an off-duty reporter.

That reporter, coincidentally, had only a day earlier been sitting across a conference table from Roger Snoble, MTA's new chief executive officer, and his new Deputy CEO, John Catoe.

The MTA chief, who won awards for whipping the Dallas transit system into shape, acknowledged the bus service in the Valley was in grave need of improvement, and he listed a number of things he planned to do to correct that. I was glad improved maintenance was high on the list.

So after the supervisor arrived in a compact sedan to throw some switches and slam the back doors a few times to get the bus rolling, and after the next bus arrived to take us the rest of the way to LAX, I called the new MTA chiefs.

``It's an excellent example of what ought to be different,'' said Catoe after apologizing profusely for my bus experience. The big idea espoused by the new management is creating sectors, starting with a Valley sector, to localize management and service.

``Some of these (dispatchers) have no idea who the drivers are. Never met them. Might not have ever even been over there where that bus broke down,'' Catoe told me.

``The new dispatch system that we're putting in will be controlled by each sector,'' which will be run by a local general manager ``who will know where all those buses are and communicate with those buses ... and guess what? Dispatchers will get to know the drivers.''

And there are other ideas, too, such as a kind of mutual aid with other transit companies whereby one agency would service another agency's bus if it broke down nearby. Santa Monica's Big Blue Bus system was only a few minutes away from where we broke down, but ``we have this mental process that when one of our buses breaks down in Santa Monica, we have to go there and fix it.''

But as Snoble pointed out in our meeting, there have been many plans to fix things, but little action on those plans. The proof will come when and if the new ideas make contact with the pavement.

I may never ride the 561 again. Why would I? I've got two cars and a bicycle, after all. But for Scott's sake, and the sake of all his fellow prisoners, I told Catoe that the 561 might be a good laboratory for the MTA's redemption.