Oh, the joys of Capital Region roads
Imagine driving down the highway in heavy traffic. You see a large, brand-new love seat sitting serenely in the middle lane. Cars are swerving left and right to avoid it. You do the same.
But the driver behind you doesn’t. He slams into it. The love seat slides into the left lane, where another car hits it. Pieces of furniture and cars fly through the air.
A few seconds later you see an upright four-drawer metal filing cabinet, partly in the right lane and partly in the shoulder. There’s a big gash in the side.
This happened to me a while back. Not on the Northway, but on a similar interstate around Kansas City, a metro area about 2.5 times larger than the Capital Region.
I spent several months there last year, during which I saw all sorts of debris in roadways — office chairs, dining room chairs, a child’s high chair, card tables, a frying pan, an outboard motor, tires, pool noodles, a frozen turkey still in its wrapper, 2-by-4s, cinder blocks, mattresses and box springs old and new, and a deflated raft.
This is not even mentioning the car wreckage left by the side of the road. I sometimes wondered if it would possible to assemble an entire car from all the junk.
Obviously, this leads to problems, like the flat tire I got running over the remnants of a three-car crash.
It made me thankful that in the Capital Region we seem to have a minimum of road junk. And for much more.
We have wide open roads
My second day out there I nearly tore the wheels off my car. There was a very narrow, almost invisible median between opposing traffic lanes, and I was making a turn in an intersection and almost didn’t see it. These curb-high medians were almost everywhere. You’ll find a few in the Albany area but they’re nearly always painted yellow or red.
I suppose this is a useful safety device, to prevent sideswipes and head-on collisions. But they make for very challenging lane navigation, especially at night.
We have logical numbers of lanes
I’ve never given the number of lanes in a road much thought. But where I was, things were rather odd. The worst was a suburban road about a mile long that started with four lanes on one side, a grass median, and two lanes on the other, tapered down to one very narrow lane each way, with no median and hardly any shoulders, and then back to the original six lanes. In between were sharp turns that were hard to navigate at the posted 30 mph speed limit. At least there was almost no traffic. Then maybe I was the only driver dumb enough to take this road.
We have easy access to parking lots and driveways
In the Albany area, when you pull into a parking lot or driveway, you’re mostly just looking for a place to park. Where I was, you’re thinking instead about how much it’s going to cost to fix your oil pan. Usually, there’s a narrow but deep gutter, followed by a sharp up-slope. You get used to slamming on the brakes, then slowly creeping forward, cringing for the sound of metal on concrete, while drivers behind honk at you. At one driveway where I parked many times, I eventually figured out that the only way I could avoid scraping was to back in.
Our intersections line up
If you’re driving straight through an intersection, you just keep your car pointed dead ahead, right? Not where I was. Frequently I had to jerk my car a foot or two left or right to stay on the road and to avoid one of those crazy medians you can barely see.
We have logical mall parking lots
Colonie Center and Crossgates Mall may be huge and busy, but you just mindlessly cruise around until you find a spot. Imagine instead following spaghetti-like roads snaking in and around geometrically-challenged lots, with signs like DO NOT STOP and ONCOMING TRAFFIC DOES NOT STOP. Some of these signs have arrows, which I think shows where the traffic that isn’t stopping is coming from. Only the locals know where these roads take you.
We use clear road terminology
We all say things like “the Thruway” or “Route 7,” or just “Seven.” Out there it’s “40 Highway” or “18 Highway” or “I-70 Highway.” I guess everything’s a highway, but it sounded funny to me. Even the newscasters and the traffic status signs always say “X Highway.”
We have fairly courteous drivers
We’ve all seen drivers stop to let somebody else make a turn. I’ve done it many times; you probably have, too. It makes our roads more civil. Out there, keeping traffic moving — and fast — seems to be the 11th Commandment.
We run red lights only 25 percent of the time
I’ve always thought this was just about the only serious problem with Capital Region drivers. But after being Out There for several months, I’m happy with 25 percent.
If you’re driving straight through an intersection, you just keep your car pointed dead ahead, right? Not where I was.