My previously nearly empty car—which is now inbound toward the city center and Johns Hopkins hospital—fills up with well-dressed commuters. The doors open and close four times in quick succession, and the train begins to move. The woman in front of me is telling her seatmate about an elderly relative. “She was able to walk, but she wasn’t able to clap.”

7:26 a.m. There’s still enough space in the train to allow a guy to chat across the aisle: “That place out on Reisterstown Road, they make the pineapple upside-down cakes, but only on Thursdays.”

7:29 a.m. They’ve moved on from cakes to cupcakes. “I don’t like how they let them just sit there sometimes.”

7:46 a.m. At Charles Center, the inbound train loses most of its passengers. That’s good because this is the most stuffed car I’ll be on all day, with standing passengers crowded in the aisles. As the automated voice reads off more than a dozen bus connections, I find myself wondering for the fourth time how many of those buses run on old streetcar routes.

***

A NOTE ON STREETCARS: Unlike Boston, New York and Philadelphia, Baltimoreans didn’t build a subway until near the end of the 20th century, preferring instead to rely exclusively on an extensive network of streetcars, and later, buses.

There was good reason for the city to be proud of its streetcar system. According to the book Baltimore’s Streetcars and Buses, the city was the home of the first electrified streetcars, starting in 1885. Some cars ran on elevated tracks, as with a line on Guilford Avenue. Others ran in traffic.

Early streetcars were as much of a real estate device as a transportation tool: Roland Park is often considered America’s first planned “streetcar suburb,” while other areas of the city were less planned but also dependent on streetcars, with “traction” magnates building lines to benefit their own land holdings.

In my neighborhood of Hampden, you can still see the ghosts of streetcar rails under some of the streets, including Falls Road and Chestnut Avenue. And, right nearby is the Baltimore Streetcar Museum if you want to ride on one of the relics.

***

8:17 a.m. On that subway, I notice that someone has brought along a Specialized Rockhopper, which is the mountain bike I lusted over as a kid. It is now covered in duct tape and looks fairly pathetic, but it’s still probably a good way to get around. I struggle to find a subway analogy there, but our metro car is spotless, fast-moving and in great condition. There’s no metaphor to be had.

8:41 a.m. People behind me are talking about the inscrutability of the Irish accent. “Those two people are clearly speaking a different language.”