Otus the Head Cat
Potholes were once things of beauty.
Dear Otus,
A couple of years ago you reported on Little Rock’s plans to permanently fix potholes with ground-up truck bed liners or something. I assume that was never done because we almost disappeared into one in front of the row houses on South Spring yesterday [March 3].
Now that this nasty stretch of snow and ice has passed, how long will it take our “holeistic” city to be healed? — Ben Suffrin,
Little Rock Dear Ben,
It was “holey” a pleasure to hear from you and to note that Little Rock’s Emergency Pothole Response Team (seen in the photo you sent) was able to extract you and your vehicle within 30 minutes.
The EPRT is averaging 47 minutes per rescue, so your case must not have been particularly challenging for them.
As evidenced by the pun in your email, you seem to have maintained your sense of humor, but for thousands of Little Rock commuters, the potholes of winter are becoming an annual nuisance. And judging by the weather this week, I’m not certain winter is completely over.
To quote the influential medieval French poet Francois Villon, “Mais ou sont les trous de neige d’antan?” As translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti in 1870, the wistful line reads, “Where are the potholes of yesteryear?”
“Yesteryear” was a Rossetti neologism to capture the essence of the French word “antan,” which literally means last year, but connotes times past.
Villon wrote the line in his “Ballade” from a Paris prison cell in 1461 as part of his Le Testament. His lament for the lost beauty of French potholes and the freedom of the open road has touched souls since.
It is worth noting that 15thcentury French potholes were far less ephemeral than those of modern times. The French lacked anything that resembled the EPRT, and potholes frequently remained in place for years on the declining Roman road infrastructure. They swallowed oxcarts, pack horses and the occasional distracted pilgrim on a walkabout of the calvaires of Brittany.
It is rumored that the scampish ne’er-do-well Villon, who disappeared in 1463 at the age of 32, is buried in a large pothole on the outskirts of Cri du Chat. We’ll never know, but he left behind one of literature’s most beautiful and frequently quoted poetic homages to potholes.
The appreciation of potholes may have been the farthest thing from your mind, however, when your front end was bumper-deep in one.
Hazel Wassername, spokesman for Little Rock’s Department of Pothole Restoration and Rehabilitation, has urged patience throughout the forthcoming pothole repair season and warns citizens that things will get worse before they get better.
Potholes, known in the transportation industry as “subjacent corollary anomalies,” occur when water enters air pockets that are formed in newly mixed asphalt during the kneading, rising and knock-down process.
In winter, rainwater seeps into the air pockets, freezes, expands, then collapses. The resulting hole can be as small as an inch deep and a foot across or as large as a Chevy Tahoe.
“Last year we had one unusually large hole that snapped the axle of a UPS truck like a twig,” Wassername said. “We had to use the Jaws of Life to extract the driver.”
Wassername noted that the six runners lost in the rain-filled holes between mile markers 9 and 11 during last weekend’s Little Rock Marathon were all rescued by EPRT within 20 minutes.
“We have 15 city crews on call to fill the holes in a sort of asphaltian triage,” Wassername said. “We try to get to the axle-busters within a day or two. The ones that only take out a tire rim may take up to a week. The pesky basketball-size holes that knock the coffee out of your cup holder sometimes require up to 10 days to be filled. The itsy-bitsy ones will have to wait for spring.”
Wassername noted, “On a good day these crews can actually fill 35 or 40 potholes.”
She urges that even during these trying times, citizens should not take matters into their own hands. “If there’s a pothole out in front of your house, do not attempt to fill it yourself,” she said. “Leave it to the professionals.”
Until next time, Kalaka reminds you to report potholes to the city’s EPRT pothole hotline (dial 311) or online at littlerock.org. Holes containing vehicles, small children and pets, or the aged and infirm will be given top priority.