I just returned fom one of the most greuling driving experiences I have ever had. Scratch that-- It was the worst driving experience I have ever had, and I’ve been driving cross-country since I was a kid.
I have to admit I was deeply impressed. Never have I seen incompetence writ on such a grand scale. It was truly spectacular-- the final stages of an incredibly Bad Idea which manages to ruin an entire state. My husband voiced the opinion that “Open Road Tolling” must have been conceptualized by monkeys, but I disagree. It was the work of the Antichrist.
See, Route 90 is a Northern passage across the United States. Following this single interstate freeway, you can travel across a good portion of our great land. For those Dopers who are not familiar with the American road system, interstate freeways are massive highways, often of three or even four lanes going in either direction. Their appeal is that the speed limit is generally higher, and there’s no stopping unless it’s for gas.
Some of the states designate their parts of this road as toll ways, meaning that you pay a nominal fee based on the distance you’ve traveled. You get a ticket when you enter the freeway, and pay the toll at the exit you use. Toll roads are often less crowded, limited access (which means less slow-downs from lane changes and merges) and generally well-maintained.
Some corknut in Illinois desided to fix a system which wasn’t broken. They have this new “Open Road Tolling.” This means that the toll booths are in the center of the freeway every few miles, meaning freeway traffic has to come to a complete stop and pay the toll.
When you look at the pictures of what it will look like when finished, you see a few cars breezily coasting into the tolling booths. It looks smooth and streamlined, the art has a cosy, vaguely 1950-ish feel. You just know those cars are going to be on their merry way in but a brief flicker of time, off to explore the majestic vistas of our lovely land. Reality is a bit different. Sitting in the sweltering heat at a standstill behind hundreds of other cars waiting their turn to pay the toll, I had a lot of time to look at that picture, and envy the chemical enhancements that must have brought this vision to the mind of its conceptualizer. That must have been one hell of a trip.
The first flaw in this premise is, obviously, the fact that the freeway traffic all has to come to a stop to pay the toll, thus negating one of the major reasons people choose to use the interstate freeways. The I-Pass system seems to have been a half-hearted effort towards alleviating this, but when I inqured about buying one at a travel oasis, I was told that a pass was fifty bucks, cash only. Considering I was only in Illinois as long as it would take me to travel* out* of Illinois, fifty dollars seemed a bit excessive. I imagine many travellers would feel the same way, and thus, a majority of the road’s users are going to have to go through the cash tolls.
But even the I-Pass system didn’t help matters, because traffic was packed for miles behind the tollbooths, and they couldn’t even get to where the road widened to allow I-Pass users into another lane.
Yes, I said “packed for miles.” I do not exaggerate. At seven PM on Sunday night, I crept along, stop-and-start behind a line of cars which wound out of range of sight. I was at that particular toll for 45 minutes. Every toll took at least fifteen minutes. I don’t even want to talk about Chicago.
The signs promise that this will all magically vanish once construction is done, to which I have to shake my head in astonishment that anyone ever bought that line. One of the tollbooths at which I sat for twenty minutes was fully operational-- it just couldn’t process cars fast enough to avoid a traffic jam. It’s uttrerly impossible that they ever could.
When we passed Gary, Indiana, a miraculous change took over. Traffic became smooth again, soaring along with cheerful disregard for the speed limit. I think we were all a bit giddy from the heady sensation of being able to drive after putting along at golf-cart speeds through an entire state.
Yes, I said an entire state. The parts of the road upon which traffc flowed as God intended were so rare as to be forgotten. I remember the entire state being one of steering-wheel pounding, screeching, near-to-tears frustration. It took us twice as long as it should have to get through it.
I felt like casting myself from the car and kissing the earth of Indiana. We passed through one booth, claimed our ticket, and sailed through the state unhindered until we reached our exit, paid the toll and drove away, thanking God that someone who had higher than the brain-power of a retarded yak had designed exit tolling.