I commuted on the 405 from Redondo Beach to North Hollywood - that lasted about 10 months before I basically went insane.
I did it in the summer in a Hyundai with no air conditioning. So I’d be driving (I mean, sitting) on the freeway removing my pantyhose and shoes and trying to kill the time.
Even as I type this, I have only to look over my left shoulder to see the 405. Right now the cars going south are travelling about 5-10 mph and the cars going north are travelling about 65-75 mph.
When I drove it this morning, I travelled 9 miles north. It took me 8 minutes.
I guess it all depends which way you’re going and when.
You can leave.
3 hellish years of commuting from Burbank to Orange County, mostly in a beat-to-crap Subaru with no air conditioning and manual transmission.
I feel your pain.
Then, for 8 weeks, I tried with a Harley '93 Police Special. lane-splitting was new to me. Scared me so much I almost wet myself. I got to where I would do it but never totally got comfortable with it. It was the insanity of the lane changing with no signals and no looking over the shoulder, almost killed me once or twice.
I’ve lived in many cities but nowhere have I encountered the filthy, mind-numbing horror of the 405 north at 5:30 pm on a sweltering August weekday.
My advice, start drinking heavily.
NOT WHILE YOU ARE DRIVING!!!
:eek:
Burbank to OC? Man, that would make anyone want to drink.
The reason you can leave is that the cord got cut some time ago, I reckon.
Here’s the ranking in terms of minutes of delay per car for the table offered above:
cars/day cars/year hours/year hours/car mins/car id number delay rank
293,671 107,189,915 25,068,000 0.233865 14.031917 3 1
295,000 107,675,000 25,181,000 0.233861 14.031669 2 2
318,000 116,070,000 27,144,000 0.233859 14.031533 1 3
259,128 94,581,720 21,045,000 0.222506 13.350360 6 4
280,800 102,492,000 22,805,000 0.222505 13.350310 4 5
243,425 88,850,125 19,429,000 0.218672 13.120297 7 6
208,000 75,920,000 16,310,000 0.214831 12.889884 12 7
296,000 108,040,000 22,792,000 0.210959 12.657534 5 8
260,403 95,047,095 16,713,000 0.175839 10.550349 11 9
266,000 97,090,000 17,072,000 0.175837 10.550211 10 10
318,000 116,070,000 18,606,000 0.160300 9.617989 9 11
318,500 116,252,500 18,606,000 0.160048 9.602890 8 12
I’d just like to note that I make it a rule of thumb to actively avoid the 405 between the 101 and LAX. Heck, I had to go to the airport Sunday, and took the longer route (the 105) just to avoid the 405.
Outside of that stretch, though, it’s not too bad.
Hey Rufus…
Dude, How Many years have you been pounding this freeway?..
Anybody that is forced to commute, (if you leave the 405 or Harbor 110 in most area’s you might get carjacked or assaulted) day in and day out know what I’m lamenting. I cannot escape this slow death, my only vice, to get me through this daily hell, is a large bag of Sunflower Seeds, self-hypnosys and Metallica…as loud as I can stand it! When I get home and Mrs. Roboto says “how was your day?” I smile revealing all the sunflower seeds in my teeth, and reply, " Just fine dear, How was yours?" so robotic like…
Off and on since 1987. One of the worst commutes I ever had was the day before Thanksgiving, 1988. It started to rain, which of course makes 90% of the drivers in L. A. drive 20 mph slower than usual anyway, and everyone was trying to get home early, so the bottom line was it took me 90 minutes to drive the 7 miles from Santa Monica Blvd to the 101 Freeway. Ever since then it hasn’t seemed so bad…
Ah, the 405 and it’s hell-spawned sisters…
My SIL lives in Culver City and works at UCLA. I think it takes her 45 minutes to get to work.
For those scoring at home, I think it’s less than 10 miles.
Hate it, but I have to use it to get to the damn airport. And the 105 is no better. I’d rather dodge the junkies and pimps and whores (oh my!) on Century Blvd…
Ah, yes; I remember it well…The day after Thanksgiving in 1989. Northbound on the 405. Took nearly an hour to get from Sepulveda Blvd to Roscoe. I’m glad I got out when I did.
An inflatable dummy and the carpool lane are your friends. 
Yesterday, I left my house in San Francisco for a friend’s place in Oakland.
I left at 4:15.
I approached the on-ramp for the Bay Bridge at 4:30pm.
I got to my friend’s house at 5:00.
You’re in San Francisco; why didn’t you take the subway?
How was the traffic?
“Dead on the 405”
Agony claws my mind. I am a statistic. When I first got here I felt very much alone. I was overwhelmed by grief, and I expected to find sympathy.
I found no sympathy. I saw only thousands of others who were as trapped as I was. I was given a number and placed in a category. The category was called “Mired in Gridlock on the 405.”
The day I died was an ordinary work day. How I wish I had taken the bus! But I would have been just as stuck on the bus as in my own car.
It doesn’t matter how the ennui happened. I was zoning out — inhaling carbon monoxide fumes, hypnotized by the heat distortion above the pavement. The last thing I remember was slowly idling past a lady who was yakking on her cell phone. Everything started to go black. I could hear the traffic news copters whup-whup-whupping above the freeway. My whole body seemed to be turning inside out. I heard myself scream.
Please, don’t bury me! I’m not dead! I’m just stuck on the highway! I want to laugh and run again. I want to sing and dance. I just want to get out of my fucking car! Please don’t put me in the ground! I promise if you give me just one more chance, God, I’ll take all the back streets and scenic routes, anything to avoid this torturous road. Please, God, I don’t want to die on the 405.
Before I moved to L.A. a guy did committ suicide on the 405 at the Sepulveda Pass. It was impossible to get home to Lancaster, so I turned around and stayed with friends at their apartment in L.A. north of Culver City (the same building to which I soon moved). I don’t remember the route I took to their place, but it was crowded and torturous. To make matters worse, I’d just re-filled my Zippo and it leaked on my thigh. By the time I got to my refuge, I had a nice chemical burn. I think this happened in 1986.
Bussing across the City alone would likely take as long as driving to Oakland. Plus I get a kick out of playing the Rocky Horror soundtrack whilst driving through Oakland.
Also, I thought I mighta been going somewhere else after Oakland.