Are there any state lines that have a real “border” feel - where you sense you are going from one cultural, political, or economic zone to another when you drive through?
The one that stands out the most to me is California, as one may be stopped and asked about fruit or other goods in the vehicle. There also abrupt shifts in some prices such as food and gasoline. There is also sudden emphasis on fuel economy and emissions standards, and visibly far more compact and hybrid/electric cars, which stand out after driving in western states where large SUVs and pickups predominate.
Another example is the difference from Texas to Louisiana, where gambling, liquor stores, strip clubs, and perhaps other services are suddenly less naughty, and advertised much more openly. I imagine going from Utah to Nevada may be even more abrupt in that regard.
Are there any other, perhaps better examples? I have not driven much in the northeast or midwest, and I may be out of date with California examples.
I’ve never been to it personally, but a colleague told me about a store he once visited which was located on the Utah-Nevada border. He said the Nevada side had booze, cigarettes and slot machines, while the Utah side was predictably devoid of same.
There’s nothing clear about crossing the border between PA and MD. Once upon a time heading south you would have noticed the plethora of liquor stores on the Maryland side of the border. The transition between North and South is actually quite gradual.
When driving from Boston to Providence you don’t need a sign to tell you when you’ve crossed the border in RI. The feel of the road says it all. Ku-chunk, ku-chunk, ku-chunk!
I live in Utah, 90 miles from the Nevada border. On Interstate 80, the twin towns of Wendover, Utah and West Wendover, Nevada straddle the border. Topographically it’s all the same: ugly desert. But yes, on the Nevada side is where the casinos and discount liquor stores and strip clubs are, and on the Utah side is where you find the meth-destroyed trailer parks in which dwell the employees of those Nevada-side establishments. It is a grim place.
North and South Carolina on I-95. Approaching it in either direction, there is a billboard for South of the Border about every half a mile. As soon as you pass the Sombrero Tower and surrounding kitsch and fireworks stores, the signs abruptly stop and you’re back to miles of pine forests and the occasional truck stop. Come to think of it, there’s *nothing *else on I-95 between Washington and Savannah.
Mostly true, though after the recent Ice Age this past winter all of the roads around here resemble Swiss cheese. The side roads are usually good indications, the road I usually take into Mass (aside from the highway) has a good 30 feet in terrible condition because neither state will do the work to clean it up.
It’s been a long time since I lived there, but I do remember the drive down 95 back when I did, and you absolutely knew the second you crossed over from MA to RI.
It’s still that way most of the time. We’re often noted in the lists of worst roads in the country for things like the high accident rate on Rt. 6 and the S curves on 95 in Providence, but it applies to road maintenance as well. We are truly a welfare state, and roads just don’t get fixed until absolutely necessary, and then there’s still a 1 to 2 year waiting period after that point is reached.
There are some nice things about Little Rhody also, I can’t recall any at the moment, but I’m sure there must be something.
Once I was driving in the middle of Nowheresville on some podunk county dirt road. At some point the crappy clay road crossed from one southern state into the other. There weren’t even any signs around.
But you could TELL to within a foot or three where the boundary line was. Because the color of the clay was wildly different.
For some reason I found this very interesting and amusing. I think I even took a picture of it.
I doubt it’s the most abrupt state boundary in the country, but the Vermont-New Hampshire boundary is pretty noticeable, and it’s not just the billboards. Different subsidies and tax and regulatory systems mean that all the big-box stores are on the NH side of the border and most of the farms are on the VT side. Despite being of similar size, VT has 10 times as many dairy cows as NH, and NH has seven times as many Walmart locations.
South Lake Tahoe is the town on the California side. The town on the Nevada side is called, “Stateline,” as is the road the goes along the border. That’s how creative they are. The only way to make it more obvious would be to paint the two towns entirely different colors.
The border between WI and IL used to be like that. Leave America’s Dairyland (“Smell our dairy air!”) for the Land of Lincoln and you’d encounter stores selling colored margarine. The legacy of the margarine wars.
Now the big differences are the cheese and sausage shops north of the border.
