Relay: Riding the 10C

He is Jamaican. He is a big man, tall and broad. He gets on in Montauk with me at 7 a.m. We both sit down in front, where there is more legroom. We are riding the 10C.

The 10C makes its run from downtown Montauk to the East Hampton train station and back five times a day. It travels the old highway between town and Hither Hills State Park, then it’s Montauk Highway the rest of the way.

It is one of the few routes in the Suffolk County transit system that operates on Sundays.

In between its East Hampton runs, it circles around Montauk, starting at the Jitney stop, up Second House, up Flamingo to Gosman’s, then to Ditch via West Lake, and back to the beginning.

The 10C is the path of least resistance.

For most of the year, its clientele are a mix of Jamaicans, Latinos, and whites. The riders of the 10C are the workers, the people behind the curtain who enable the Hamptons to be the Hamptons.

In the summer, a few of the European students who have come to Montauk to work and play can be found riding the 10C.

During your summer ride, you hear a mix of languages and accents.

No one rides the 10C because they want to. They ride it because they have to.

You have to get from here to there, you don’t have a car, and the L.I.R.R. service on weekdays on the South Fork is nonexistent.

You’re thankful each time you get on during the summer to find the A.C. is working. Ditto the heat in the winter. Neither is guaranteed for your $2.25.

Have to be in East Hampton from Montauk by 10 a.m.? The 7 a.m. 10C is your only option.

The 10C is a portal to the rest of Suffolk County. Once you arrive at the East Hampton train station, you can transfer to buses headed to Bridgehampton or Riverhead or even Center Moriches, if you’re feeling exotic, though you’ll have to do an extra transfer to get there.

The ride does have its moments. In the dead of winter, as the bus heads west along the old highway, you get to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic, a stirring sight. No extra charge.

The electronically generated voice that announces the stops has its own take on local names. Napeague Harbor is “Nah-puh-kee Harbor.” Amagansett is “Ah-muh-gan-set.”

There is a rack on the front of the bus that holds up to two bikes. That is the key to my modus operandi when I am carless: The bus takes me to East Hampton; the bike does the rest.

I nod at the faces I recognize as they pass down the aisle. Sometimes they respond, sometimes they don’t.

A few days ago, I had a long talk with a man from St. Thomas. He is an attendant at Gurney’s Spa, and lives in the back of the resort. He got on at the East Hampton train station carrying a brand- new microwave he had bought in Bridgehampton.

He told me he likes the new management at the resort.

The next morning, he got back on the bus at Gurney’s carrying the same microwave. It was damaged goods. Another trip to Bridgehampton.

Occasionally, I spot a face I know from East Hampton Town Justice Court. They have pleaded guilty to D.W.I., and have lost their license for six months, or a year. Awkward, but it occasionally leads to an interesting conversation.

The big man sitting next to me is singing to himself. He has a pleasant, deep voice.

He is riding the 10C.

T.E. McMorrow covers crime and the courts for The East Hampton Star.