What’s the first
thing that comes to mind when thinking about California? Maybe for some it’s
the beautiful beaches, gorgeous weather, or even Disneyland. But the majority
of us from California think of one thing: traffic. From the 405 to the 5 to the
110, the Southern California freeways are perpetually crowded, filled with
traffic jams and crazy drivers for the majority of the day. When I started my
drivers training, my dad told me, “If you want to get angry at something, just
drive into downtown LA and back. You’ll be angry pretty quick.” Needless to
say, when I finally did get my license I was in no rush to join in on the fun
that is the California “Parking Lot”.
For the first year
or so of driving, I took surface streets to everything. If there was a way to take surface streets and
back roads (well, as back road-y as SoCal could be) to my destination, I was
determined to take it. If there wasn’t a way, I refused to drive. Was my idea
of the freeways a little exaggerated? Probably, but nothing my friends said
would change my mind. Plus, my parents were huge advocates of my boycott on the
freeways; they figured it kept me out of accidents. I had no problem spending
the extra ten to fifteen minutes driving that it took to not utilize the
freeways.
However, my fear
would soon be tested. The summer before my senior year of high school I found
myself a job in my dad’s company, working as an office drone. Most days I just
did the basics: copying, editing, emailing, and calling clients. One day,
however, my supervisor bestowed upon me the task of delivering a set of
drawings to the project supervisor at one of the jobsites in Beverley Hills. I
worked in their office in Orange County, so the drive was going to be about 35
miles. After looking it up on Google Maps, however, I realized the freeways
were my only option. The website estimated the surface street travel time to be
about an hour longer than the freeways, not to mention it had me going through
the rather sketchy neighborhoods of Inglewood and Watts. After nervously
pondering my options, I deduced that I would have to drive on those roads I had
feared for so long.
My heart was
racing as I pulled the car into the onramp. Checking all my mirrors multiple
times I merged myself into the first lane. Ok, I thought, I can do this. About
a mile down the road I finally realized that all the cars were passing me with
ease. I then realized I had been going 45 mph on the freeway, too scared to
speed up. After my shock wore off, I was able to speed up and coast. My arms,
rigid and locked into position, began to loosen up. Before I knew it, I reached
my exit and had conquered the Los Angeles freeway.
It took me many
more occasions to feel comfortable driving on the highway, but I was able to
master it before I left for college. Every time I get on the road, I still find
myself humbled by the busy, fearsome monstrosity that is the Southern California
freeways.
I have no idea how the Texas freeways compare to those of California, but I bet you would win the prize for worst traffic. However, I think Texas could make a good effort to get a spot in the top five. At least in California you have people that know how to drive. My theory of Texans is that they either are good drivers or bad drivers, there seems to be no middle ground. I agree that the first time on the freeway is a little daunting, but once you get the hang of it, it's no big deal.
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