The invitation called for strangers to meet Tuesday in the predawn darkness at a deserted parking lot beneath a freeway in Oakland. Although the setting could have been the setup for a slasher film, it was actually the relaunch of a Bay Area institution: the Casual Carpool.

Until it flatlined during the pandemic, Casual Carpool for two decades was a simple way to commute quickly and cheaply from the East Bay to San Francisco — as long as you didn’t mind catching rides with strangers. At designated meeting spots across Alameda and Contra Costa counties during the morning rush, a driver would welcome two or more passengers into the car, and the group would make a beeline for the freeway, using the HOV lane to get over the Bay Bridge with a reduced toll, while solo drivers suffered through traffic jams.

The standard drop-off spot was on Howard Street near the Salesforce Transit Center, although other destinations could be set. There was no app — the setup was as informal and analog as it comes: first come, first served.

But as it did with so many other shared experiences, Covid brought an end to the commuter convenience, until Alameda resident Camille Bermudez had the audacity to resurrect it this summer.

The timing was right to experiment, because of evolving work habits and squeezed personal finances, Bermudez said.

“There are macro factors happening now, where we’re being asked to come back into the office, as well as bus fares … getting higher and higher,” said Bermudez, who was introduced to Casual Carpool by her father when she was a teenager. “It’s a great way to meet your neighbors as well. I personally had a great experience. I wanted an easier commute, and I decided now’s the time.”

The reboot got off to a slow start Tuesday. There were more journalists than commuters loitering in the parking lot near Lake Merritt at 5 a.m. The dull rumble of traffic from the I-580 overpass and squawks from black-crowned night herons provided a suitable soundtrack, but the first participants didn’t pop up for about two hours.

Just before 7:15 a.m., a would-be driver appeared. Chuy Perez, an AT&T technician from San Ramon, had been driving solo for years but missed the grassroots system of picking up San Francisco-bound passengers in Lafayette. 

“It’s all about getting cars off the road, and we’re all helping each other,” he said.

Ray Lee, a middle school teacher in San Francisco, was picking up riders too. He hopes Casual Carpool can speed up his commute, which has gotten longer as more workers return to the office.

“It was a breeze, because none of the downtown workers were going in. So it was amazing,” said Lee “I’m steadily waking up earlier and earlier to try to get to work on time.”

As was the case during Casual Carpool’s heyday, there remains an informal etiquette to the experience. Drivers are supposed to keep their cars’ interiors tidy. Passengers typically kick in a dollar or two for the toll. All riders are expected to remain silent unless the driver starts a conversation.

“Ideally, a quiet ride,” Bermudez said. “Most people, especially in the morning, are not morning people.”

In the dim light filtering through the overpass, I watched as a steady trickle of drivers appeared.

I figured I’d give it a whirl. I steered my Honda, newly washed, vacuumed, and oil-changed, into position. Moments later, a woman named Alice, who had used Casual Carpool since 2005, asked if I was going into the city. She didn’t mind when I told her I was a reporter and would be writing about the ride; her only concern was finding a third person so we could get going. Within minutes, a quiet man named Anthony joined us, and we headed onto Lake Park Avenue toward the I-580 on-ramp.

The ride across the bridge was everything Bermudez had promised: quiet, efficient, and oddly comforting. 

No one asked to touch the radio, which was fine since I hadn’t turned on my yacht-rock playlist. No one made small talk about the weather, the previous night’s big game, or the start of the school year. We just rode in silence.

After exiting the Bay Bridge onto Fremont Street, I turned left to Howard Street, where Alice and Anthony thanked me for the ride before scattering like respectful, well-mannered dandelion seeds, each drifting off to their respective office.

Bermudez wants to have all 20 original Casual Carpool locations around the East Bay operating by August 2026.

She’s hopeful that it will instill a touch of humanity to the daily grind.

“This is not Uber. This is not Lyft. This is not a taxi service,” she said. It’s more like sharing a bus or a BART train — but with a personal touch. Bermudez knows of two couples who got married after meeting in Casual Carpool.

“Maybe we could potentially rebrand to, you know, some sort of dating app,” she said.