I’m not sure how it’s possible, but today I spent an hour and a half driving 17.8 miles. There was no construction, and no wreck immediately involved, and yet…cars refused to move. I suppose it’s one of the many things you become numb to when you’ve lived in a big city for a while, but for the uninitiated it can be truly maddening. What’s more, the final portion of the trip – 5.4 miles – took nearly 50 minutes to traverse. It was easily the worst part…I could’ve gotten out of the car and run the remaining distance with time to spare.
I was trying to make it to a soccer game; it’s a physically painful experience to miss minute after minute of playing time while surrounded by stagnant traffic. But the truly fantastic part is that I got there literally just in time to see my teammates leaving – defeated by five goals. I don’t think the trip would have been nearly as epic if I had made it five minutes earlier (in time to see the very end of the game), or if I had come five minutes later (when everyone had left).
I simply cannot understand how, even though there are so many cars, we couldn’t move forward at a quicker pace. I remember wishing at the time that I could see a satellite view of the traffic flow…what were they doing? Were those in the lead vehicles getting out to play croquet in the street? I doubt this problem existed when horse carriages were gallivanting around.
I don’t think I’ll be leaving an hour and a half before my next game, but I will know not to go the same route. I may even splurge and pay to take the toll road, if only to save a tiny bit of sanity.