City Occult #3: The Bus to Nowhere
Imagine you’re at rock bottom, or maybe you don’t have to imagine. You got fired from your job or evicted from your quintessential Philadelphian row home. Tail between your legs, you walk the city at night with heavy thoughts and a burdened heart; no destination, no idea where to go next, and a general sense of impending doom. At the very moment you feel you can’t go on any longer, like a movie, a light catches your eye from the next block—big head lights of enlightenment, sifting through the night like a cartoon window pie’s warm scent twisting towards a nostril. It rounds the corner and there’s nothing displayed on the LCD screen. You don’t know why, but you get the sense that this bus is here for you.
Such is the story of the Bus to Nowhere; a mysterious vehicle that first appeared in Philly folklore only a decade ago.
The City of Philadelphia’s Southeastern Pennsylvania Transit Authority (SEPTA) manages hundreds of buses servicing the city as well as the greater metropolitan area. With an estimated 1.3 million commuters residing in Philly, trying to catch a late SEPTA vehicle is a daily occurrence for many. Only the selected few, however, will ever be able to ride the Bus to Nowhere, according to legend, both in conversation and internet lore.
The bus has no LCD display and is not listed on any transportation maps (or either of the terrible, glitchy SEPTA apps). Also known as ‘Zero’ or ‘The Wandering Bus,’ it’s most often spotted in the areas of West Powelton, Center City, Passyunk, and North Broad — Dauphin & Glenwood area.
Only picking up passengers who are in the depths of despair, the driver (or DRIVERS for all we know) keep their eyes and face rather concealed as you board, tucked beneath their blue hat. It’s fair to assume that the drivers have a second sense for finding these hopeless individuals. Or perhaps they simply drive all day and night, waiting for those who chase…
Although there’s no fair, you have to earn your ticket. The drivers will often make the riders chase the bus, if only for a moment, to really prove how bad they want or need the ride. Potential passengers know immediately and inexplicably upon seeing the bus that it has come to help them and have two options: chase it down or ignore it.
Those who ignore the bus never get a second chance to Ride it.
As they board, an automated voice announces the name of the intersection from which the person was picked up. No mention of destinations or stops. The driver is said not to interact with passengers, only gesturing for them to take a seat.
Now, based on the people I see riding the MFL every morning, the bus definitely does not take everyone who’s at rock bottom. Maybe there’s an operator shortage. In any case, this story is already pretty unbelievable and it gets even crazier than you might expect.
Once seated, the journey begins.
You immediately fall into a state of deep reflection, drifting into a daze. This is the supposed magic of the bus; it allows you to confront your demons both consciously and subconsciously. What’s scary about this soul-searching state is its duration. You’re in this limbo for as long as you need to be — for as long as it takes you to realize where you need to go.
Every choice, scenario, and outcome is dissected and revealed to the rider during their journey and it’s only once they’ve seen the errors of their ways that they gain the ability to leave regret behind and make room for change going forward that they emerge from this particular mental state. The length of the ride can be minutes and hours for some. For others it can be days and weeks. It’s been rumored to last months and even years for a select, tormented few.
When the passenger emerges from this analytical limbo, their identity and purpose is realized. They are triumphant over past trauma. They are enlightened, but that does not mean they are relieved. Fulfilling purpose require work. This is when they snap out of the trance. It’s at this point that they can tug the cord and be dropped off at the same exact block they were picked up from.
At which point, you’ll have to find another bus.
Beyond Philly
To add to the mystery, the bus, or one just like it, has reportedly been sighted in other cities across the Northeastern United States. Operating between the hours from dusk till dawn, it seems to know where it is needed and shows up accordingly.
It could be possible that the Bus to Nowhere is a product of imagination or mass-psychosis stemming from the first post about it all the way back in 2011. Whether it is or isn’t real is impossible for many of us to know. The Wandering Bus legend was supposedly thought up by comedian and blogger Nicolas Mirra, who posted the story “Philly Urban Legends: The Wandering Bus” while living in Philly around 2011. Despite stories all over the internet alluding to riders who remember the ride, it’s likely a ghost story to liven up our boring Pennsylvania lives. Nonetheless, if you ever feel unrelenting hopelessness or that your life is over— try taking a walk through the city at night.
The mysterious bus might just pick you up for a ride (and a free one at that, without even jumping a turnstile.)
The full City Occult Series
