One hot afternoon in early May, I stood at South Keys station, tote bag in hand, waiting for a ride that felt like home.
After a stressful shift at work, I didn’t want to think. I just wanted something familiar. I was heading back to the neighbourhood where I grew up to visit a friend, hoping for a small sense of comfort after a long day.
For me, that comfort always came in the form of one thing: the 93 bus towards Blossom Park.
But as I watched unfamiliar buses pass — one 40 route to St. Laurent, then another and another — I realized something was wrong. The 93 was gone.
OC Transpo’s “New Ways to Bus” program launched just over a month ago and is being called the largest transit overhaul in the city’s history. More than 100 routes were changed, removed or added with the goal of modernizing service and connecting people to the O-Train.
On paper, it makes sense. The O-Train’s Trillium Line cost more than $4.66 billion and took more than a decade to build, so it’s only natural that OC Transpo wants to get their money’s worth by redirecting bus routes to the train.
But in reality, many riders are left stranded and scrambling to get home.
Removing a long-standing connection that served entire communities without meaningful consultation doesn’t feel like progress. It feels like being left behind. – Sarah Hirsi
For those of us in Ottawa’s south end, the 93 wasn’t just a route. It was part of a rhythm.
When I was 14 years old, my mom taught me how to take transit with one simple rule: “Get to South Keys and hop on the 93.” It took me to high school, to work and later on, to visits in my old neighbourhood on Albion Road, even after I moved to Findlay Creek in 2020.
Moving meant leaving behind 15 years of memories in Ottawa South. At that point in my life, I wasn’t driving yet. I relied on the bus to get to university, work or to see my friends.
But I struggled with the unfamiliar, hard-to-navigate routes which were already lacking in the first place.
Still, I found comfort in one thing. Whenever I went to visit my friend back in the Albion neighbourhood, the 93 to Blossom Park was there. Erasing the route felt personal. The change didn’t just mean finding another way home, it meant losing the only route that ever felt like mine.
OC Transpo plays a huge role in how this city moves. For many of us, it’s more than just buses and trains. It’s how we move through our lives. So when something that big makes changes, it ripples through everything.
The transit system has shifted its focus more on the O-Train, and in the process, longtime routes like mine were quietly phased out. And just like that, something constant was gone.
Yes, OC Transpo promoted the changes. There were ads, a website and mail outs. But the message didn’t land for everyone. I didn’t know until I was standing at the stop.
Back to that May afternoon, there I was, still at the stop, clutching my tote bag and trying to figure out how to get to my friend’s house in my old neighbourhood.
I was too nervous to take the 40. I didn’t know where it went. Another 40 passed. Then another. After nearly an hour of unfamiliar buses passing by, I felt a comforting chapter of my life come to a close.
Maybe this sounds silly. It’s just a bus route, right? In the grand scheme of things, maybe it is. But for a girl from Ottawa South, it meant something.
Removing a long-standing connection that served entire communities without meaningful consultation doesn’t feel like progress. It feels like being left behind.
Mourning a bus route might sound dramatic. But when that route shapes your routines, your memories, your daily life, it’s more than just a number. It’s part of your story. Part of your city. Part of you.
If OC Transpo really wants to offer “new ways to bus,” then it needs to include all of us. Because for many, the old ways worked just fine.
Featured image provided by Sarah Hirsi/the Charlatan
