Time Portal Identification Made Easy

I added this Alley Portal in Menlo Park California

to my own Portal Life List, just last week

Even experienced Time Travelers may have difficulty recognizing a time portal when they encounter one. When is a train not just a train? How does a B.C.E. transporter differ from a run-of-the-mill station house? Which alleys lead to Never Land and which only provide the quickest path to the household garbage cans?

I recently caught up with Biding Mytime, a senior staff member with the well-known time travel service "Portal Pilots". Captain "Bide-a-wee", as she's known to her colleagues, who consider her a woman ahead of her time, was happy to share some of the characteristics that will help even a newbie observer, such as myself, spot a few portals to add their Personal Portal Spotters Life List.

The Captain was just folding up a report from maintenance when I entered the Portal Pilots Millbrae BART Station.

“Now look around you,” the good captain intoned with an expansive gesture. “From the outside, you might guess this place is nothing more than a metro station. But you’d be dead wrong!”

I studied the assorted time travelers waiting in the Comman Era (C.E.) terminal. Clearly this was not the typical Bay Area Rapid Transit station. A Roman matron was dangling a squalling toddler, who’d clearly traveled way beyond his comfort era, over the edge of the escalator hand railing. A medieval monk in the corner was chanting to himself, or maybe into his Blue Tooth device, while a surcoated devotee of Joan of Arc, clearly waiting for the next transport back to the crusades, engaged in a little light-sword practice in the corner. I moved gingerly away from the knights combat-zone-of-choice and offered to buy the captain a beverage.

Over a friendly cappuccino, latte, double foam, hold-the-pease-pottage Captain Bide-a-wee explained some of the spotters tricks she’s picked up over the years.

“It’s like this, Hon. Time friendly transport mechanisms abide by certain rules.” She wiped some foam off her metal breastplate, and took another long thoughtful swallow. “See first off, you gotta remember that time is of the essence.”

I nodded, trying to look like I was understanding the lesson.

Then she pointed to a large digital clock on the wall. “So you might think that would take you some where.”

I nodded again, actually thinking I was getting somewhere with my studies.

“So, is that clock a time portal?”

She snorted and choked on her drink. “Well of course, that thing is no portal.” She studied it for a moment, clearly turning over in her mind, the best techniques for instructing the utterly clueless. “Fair to say there are clocks that’ll get ya’ where you’re going. But that ain’t one of ‘em. And why? Can you tell me?”

I studied the large, ugly gray time piece in a bemused fashion. “No, I suppose it’s not-“

She thwacked one leather covered knee pad. “That’s right, Hon. ‘Cuz after you stare at that awhile, you can’t say you had a lovely time, can you?”

I agreed I could not.

“But this place, “ she pointed to the station walls. “Is a legend in it’s own time. So,” she turned one palm up indicating the obvious, “here we have an obvious portal.”

I took another sip of my own drink and considered her explanation. “I’ve got an old carriage clock at home. It doesn’t run anymore, of course, but I’ve always had a feeling about it.”

She thumped her cup on the counter and gave me a broad grin. “Now you’re thinkin’ straight, girl. That somethin’ that’s stood the test of time.” She unfolded, and spread out, the report she’d tucked into the capricious leather bag, tied belt-like to her waist. Now look-a here at the portal types our gals will be inspecting in the area this week.”

I studied the maintenance engineers list.

bridge

canyon

ladder

path

alley

creek

Standing Stones

cave

trail

painting

mirror

clock

train

station house

“How many Standing Stones do you find in the San Francisco Bay Area?”

She grinned and tapped her nose with a knowing wink. “You’d be surprised!”

I was just about to suggest I buy her another drink when the voice of the gate agent came over the loud speaker, announcing, “Time is ripe.”

The captain jumped suddenly to her feet with a clash of breastplate against the back of the metal counter, that resonated throughout the station. “Well, Hon, there’s no time to lose, time and tide wait for no woman. Good luck with the spotting. Just remember to take your own sweet time.”

A woman ahead of her time indeed! A few minutes later she disappeared through the doorway marked Time Flies, Staff Only. I was a little disappointed not to spend more time with Captain Bidingtime, but time, after all, is money.