Desperate to Reverse Plunging Ridership, MoCo Makes Ride On Buses Free

If the Bus Is Free, Why Isn't My Cookie? By Ian Schwartz

You ever notice how some things in life are gloriously, mysteriously free—but never the stuff you actually want?

Take Montgomery County’s Ride On bus service. As of June 29, 2025, it’s totally free. That’s right. Climb aboard one of those big, blue, nearly empty buses and cruise to nowhere without opening your wallet. Zero dollars. Zero cents. Zilch.

Now don’t get me wrong—I love free stuff. Who doesn’t like a free sample at Costco? But let’s be honest: I don’t ride the Ride On bus. My mom doesn’t. My dad doesn’t. My siblings don’t. I asked my cousin Avi—he said, “Do those still run?”

In fact, I don’t personally know anyone who’s boarded a Ride On bus since Shrek 2 was in theaters. But sure—it’s free, so it must be progress, right?

Wrong.

Meanwhile, you know what isn’t free? Cookies. The other day at Giant, I scoped out my favorite: soft-baked chocolate chip. Still warm enough to droop a little when you pick one up. Perfection. You know what one costs? $1.50.

That’s about what Ride On used to cost—before the County decided we needed “fareless transit” for equity. But no one was handing me a free cookie in aisle seven. No County Councilmember in a reflective vest offered me a complimentary baked good and a flyer titled “Flour-Based Fairness for All.”

And there’s no “Cookies for All” equity initiative.

Just me, reaching into my wallet—again.

Then I walked past Starbucks. I know, I know—it’s not a mom-and-pop espresso shack, but sometimes you need caffeine in a cup with your name spelled like “Ion.” That tall latte? $3.85. That’s more than two bus fares back in the old days, before public services became charity drives.

So here’s the real question: if Montgomery County can afford to give away bus rides to anyone and everyone, where’s my free latte?

Oh wait—I forgot. The County’s not actually flush with cash. They’re just raising property taxes. Again. This time, it’s my retired grandparents in Chevy Chase footing the bill so someone making six figures at a K Street law firm can ride for free from Rockville to the Metro.

That’s not equity. That’s economic cosplay.

Let’s be real. The Ride On bus is a money pit on wheels. County officials tell us it’s about “equity” and “environmental justice.” But let’s stop pretending. Most of these buses are emptier than my snack drawer during finals week. You’ve got better odds finding an open booth at Cheesecake Factory on a Saturday night than spotting a full Ride On bus.

But we’re still paying for it. You, me, our parents, our neighbors—all through a charming blend of taxes, surcharges, and hidden fees that local politicians sneak through while we’re distracted by “Community Visioning Sessions” and debates about composting.

And just when you thought things couldn’t get dumber—starting July 1st, vending machine snacks are being taxed.

Yes, you read that right.

Goldfish crackers? Taxed.
Ritz Bits? Taxed.
Anything from a vending machine? Boom—6% sales tax, courtesy of Annapolis.

So let’s get this straight: Montgomery County is handing out free bus rides to people with corporate salaries, but if I want a 99-cent bag of Goldfish crackers—a snack I actually use—Governor Wes Moore and the Democrats want to wet their beak and take six cents from me.

Six cents. For emotional support fish.

And let me tell you, I don’t take vending machine snacks lightly. As a kid, I called them “orange crunchies.” I had rules: they had to be served on a folded paper towel, not too many, no broken ones, and definitely no weird brown fish. Chilled apple juice on the side—one ice cube, not two. I was particular, not spoiled. (Okay, maybe both.)

But now? My childhood snacks are being taxed to subsidize buses I’ve never ridden. And if that’s not the definition of Montgomery County “progress,” I don’t know what is.

And here’s the kicker—students and seniors already could ride for free. That’s fine. Makes sense. But now, thanks to this all-in, feel-good equity push, we’re subsidizing the guy in tailored chinos and AirPods commuting to his D.C. law firm job—for free.

It’s like Oprah took over Ride On. “You get a free ride! And YOU get a free ride! And the taxpayers in Bethesda and Burtonsville? You get a higher tax bill!”

Meanwhile, actual working-class families—many of whom live in places the buses don’t even go—are getting crushed by the cost of groceries, rent, and now…snacks.

We keep getting hit.
Buy a plastic bag? Pay a fee.
Fill up your car? Enjoy one of the highest gas taxes in the U.S.
Charge your EV? There’s a “clean energy surcharge.”
Buy crackers from a vending machine? Now you’re being taxed for eating like a child.

But hop on a Ride On bus that no one asked for? Totally free.

This is what passes for policy in Montgomery County. It’s not equity. It’s not sustainability. It’s theater. Empty symbolism paid for with very real dollars—ours.

So next time someone says the Ride On bus is free, just smile. Then walk over to a vending machine, buy your Goldfish crackers, and pay that extra six cents with pride.

Because in this county, we may not get cookies, or coffee, or even dignity—but we get to pay for a bus ride we’ll never take.

Ian Schwartz is a contributor to Direct Line News. Contact Ian at Ian.Schwartz@mcgopclub.com