Train, bus and walk to Depeche Mode

Seemed so easy (Courtesy of Denver RTD)

I planned it all out. A 40-minute train ride would cover the distance from my company’s offices to Ball Arena. I didn’t want to contend with rideshares or ridiculous big-city event parking. 

Denver has a big-city downtown that isn’t always easy to navigate, and I didn’t relish trying that after dark. Many people headed to Depeche Mode queued up at the Dry Creek platform and the train arrived swiftly. 

The ride was not fast, but less aggravating than the snarled traffic outside its window (the E line runs alongside I-25). We cruised through the stops along 25, with the Ball Arena station just a few stops ahead. The train seemed the best choice. 

 At Broadway, just a few stations shy of the arena and where the light-rail line stops following the interstate, the doors opened - then stay opened. For a few minutes, no one knew what stopped us. 

 The conductor made an emergency announcement – all trains that passed through Broadway were shut down to an incident. 

A few hours later, I found out a train struck and killed a pedestrian. I pictured someone with noise-cancelling headphones strolling past the closed light-rail gates, oblivious to the odds of human vs. train. Light-rail often runs at the same level as the road. I never found out what happened, how that person’s life ended. 

A bus to Union Station arrived and I decided to jump on, along with most of the concertgoers. My pass covered train and bus rides, so the driver just waved a bunch of us in. Union Station felt like it might not be my destination, but the bus would get me closer to Ball Arena. A passenger at the front of the bus directed us to where we should jump off. If we took the bus to Union Station we would have to backtrack. Hoofing the last few blocks would prove a better choice. 

At 6th and Alexander, our guide advised us to get off and walk – we were as close as we’d get to the arena. If we carried onto Union Station, there was no guarantee we would get a train back down (and we would not have). Later I found out we would not have train access at Union Station. 

Plus, I didn’t want to fiddle with finding another bus. Within a few blocks Metro State University and the signature red lights atop the arena were visible. I walked and chatted with numerous people on the bus. It was shocking how many other first-time train riders joined me for the concert. Little conversations emerged among us. 

The first-time riders group had quick camaraderie. One man had lived in Columbus. He compared it to Indianpolis, and Indiapolis fared unfavorably, calling it Nap City. I too have wondered how a city that hosts the Indy 500, the NFL Combine, and many NCAA basketball events could be underwhelming. But I lived in Columbus, a town about which most people have no opinion, and Cleveland, about which everyone has their negative stereotypes ready. So I am sure Indianapolis has its charms. 

 The walk from the bus was not as short as the man implied. It was at least seven or eight blocks, covering a few streets closed to traffic and parking lots where lumbering SUVs waited to overpay. Finally the arena loomed close. 

I checked the train schedule many times during the Depeche Mode concert. All the train lines headed south were suspended from Union Station through Broadway. I had no clue what to do. 

In the end, I missed the collegial nature of the people on the bus. But an hour drive awaited me once I got back to the office where I left my car. I could not navigate so complex a system on such short notice. Reluctantly I cut bait and made a choice. 

 After buying a daily train pass, I still had time to learn a ride-share from Ball Arena to my company’s office ran $29 before peak pricing kicked in.