COLUMN ONE : A Longer Road Now Takes Toll : Congestion and the search for affordable housing have created the 100-mile drive to work. Employers worry that it’s hurting health and productivity.

Doug Watson was making good time on his morning commute. His bright red Subaru slipped its way like a speeding toboggan down the twisting mountain roads near his Lake Arrowhead home.

But after Watson descended into the San Bernardino flatlands, the brilliant Alpine sunshine gave way to a dishwater-colored haze and a traffic jam on the transition to southbound Interstate 215. “The pretty part is over,” the 49-year-old Los Angeles police captain said.

He was right. Unexpected knots of traffic that early September day would stretch Watson’s already lengthy drive to his downtown Los Angeles office--a 92-mile, nearly two-hour trip that would make even the most traffic-hardened Southern Californian wince.

Frustrated by big city tensions and high costs, growing numbers of people living in major U.S. metropolitan areas--and, in particular, Southern California--appear to be chasing more affordable housing and less congested confines on the suburban frontier. Already, according to a recent survey, nearly 10% of commuters in the Los Angeles area say their morning drive takes an hour or more. In fact, a small but hardy breed of marathon motorists, dubbed “super commuters,” have emerged who drive 100 or more miles to work.

By and large, long-distance commuters would gladly switch jobs to work closer to their homes in rustic or newly developed areas. The average Los Angeles work commute--about 30 minutes--would be a dream come true.

But jobs--particularly higher-paying professional and skilled positions--are not as plentiful as cheap housing in the far-flung suburbs. And employers, for their part, have seen their ranks of long-distance commuters swell and have begun to worry about these workers’ well-being and on-the-job performance.

Driving to work in Los Angeles and Orange counties from bedroom boom towns such as Lancaster in the high desert or Moreno Valley in Riverside County often means spending a minimum of two to three hours on the road a day, under ideal conditions. Congestion, accidents and bad weather can easily add an hour or two to normal drive times--putting long-distance commuters behind the wheel for nearly one-third of their waking hours.

Elsewhere, “There are people who are moving to places like the Poconos out in Pennsylvania and commuting through the state of New Jersey to get to New York,” said Martin Wachs, a UCLA professor of urban planning.

The benefits of suburban living, however, may force motorists into stressful work commutes that take a toll on their personal health, family life and daily schedules.

“I would love to coach Little League with my kids, but it’s too dark by the time I get home,” said Norm Gookins, who leaves his Palmdale home at 5:30 a.m. and returns about 12 hours later from his job in El Segundo 75 miles away. “We still have the weekends. That’s one thing that commuting does, it makes the weekends sacred.”

Far-flung commuters dream about bullet trains between Lancaster and Los Angeles and eagerly await the creation of company van pools and car pools. But either by choice or circumstance, they continue to drive worn cars--packing away cookies to munch on and books-on-tape to pass the time--and endure daily journeys most people only make as weekend trips.

“I equate this drive to something like ‘Road Warrior,’ ” said Steve Dreben of Del Mar, who drives 164 miles round-trip between his home and his job at McDonnell Douglas in Huntington Beach.

“I’ve seen railroad shacks burning up,” Dreben said. “I’ve seen people who tried to change their tires get killed. I see the Border Patrol chasing people through the Marine base.”

However, traffic congestion--not distance--is the most likely factor to drive endurance commuters up the wall and off the freeway.

“Sometimes I’m waiting to get on (the freeway) and my God it’s 5:30 in the morning and we’re waiting in line,” said Jo Anne Alford, an executive secretary from the city of Orange who drivers her Mazda RX to work in El Segundo. “It’s dark. I just look at the taillights in front of me.”

Nearly an hour had passed since Watson had begun his morning commute when he whizzed by a sign along the eastbound San Bernardino Freeway that read “Los Angeles 48 Miles.”

The fast lane was clear and Watson’s 6-week-old Subaru--its odometer already reading more than 5,700 miles--raced through Fontana and Rancho Cucamonga, where the skeletons of houses under construction dotted the landscape. The homes of future commuters.

Around Montclair, Watson suddenly hit the brakes and came to a dead stop. “This little jam up here is bad news,” he said of the delay that eventually added 15 minutes to his morning drive.

Later on, Watson, would be mired in intermittent traffic jams near Pomona, West Covina, El Monte and Boyle Heights that would build up and disperse like thunder showers.

It is a stop-and-go pattern that Watson, whose erratic work schedule prevents him from car pooling, has become accustomed to during the last two years. The drive is pretty mundane, with a few exceptions, he says. “Sometimes there will be snow on the ground (in Lake Arrowhead) and it will be 80 degrees in town,” Watson said. “As you drive down you start to shed clothes, turn off the heater and turn on the air conditioner.”

Driving into the San Gabriel Valley, Watson switched his car radio from a news program to classical music. The gentle strains of violins flowed from the speakers as the Subaru came to a halt in the fast lane in West Covina.

Traffic began moving again and Watson finally pulled into a parking space at police headquarters in downtown Los Angeles at 9:21 a.m.--2 hours and eight minutes after he pulled out of his garage. The drive usually takes one hour and 45 minutes.

But Watson finds it hard to complain.

“It’s something you chose to do,” he said of the journey linking his Lake Arrowhead dream home and lifelong career. “You can’t bitch to your boss or co-workers on how hard your life is when you make it that way.”

In the Los Angeles area, the average round-trip commute covers 31.6 miles and takes about one hour, according to a 1988 commuter survey conducted for Commuter Transportation Services of drivers in Los Angeles, Riverside, San Bernardino and Ventura counties. But with a growing minority of commuters driving for an hour or more one way, many people are suffering.

If a congested freeway can qualify as “commuter hell,” the 91 Freeway, running west from Riverside to near El Segundo, would top the list.

Motorists on the 91 reported an average one-way drive of 92.8 minutes, according to a July survey. The freeway carries many of the new homeowners in eastern Riverside County, where jobs are scarce, to job-rich Los Angeles and Orange counties.

“That’s probably the worst corridor in the region for long long-distance travel,” said Gary Moon, the principal transportation planner for the Southern California Assn. of Governments, which commissioned the 91 survey.

Rick Yamasaki knows the 91 corridor well, too well. The 33-year-old security inspector and his wife, Jodee, were priced out of the South Bay housing market near his job in El Segundo. So, they bought a four-bedroom, $130,000 home in Wildomare in eastern Riverside County one year ago.

Now, Yamasaki leaves home at 4:15 am and drives his Honda Accord the entire length of the 91 Freeway on his 85-mile, 1 1/2-hour commute to work. “If you leave 30 minutes or an hour later, it can take two hours easy,” Yamasaki said.

The drive home is even worse--2 1/2 to three hours--and Yamasaki often eats dinner with his in-laws in Torrance to give the traffic a chance to thin out. “If you want to be able to buy a house,” he said, “you have to be able to sacrifice.”

As crazy as these kinds of commutes may seem, they make economic sense. While housing costs have risen sharply, transportation costs have risen more slowly and account for only about 12% of the family budget, said Wachs at UCLA.

Furthermore, the newer suburbs seem distant from the congestion, crime and poor schools associated with the metropolitan area. “Those with families who worry about the quality of schools and neighborhoods are increasingly accepting longer commutes,” Wachs said.

Wachs is troubled, however, by an element that might be driving residents farther out. “Among the things that are at work are racial and ethnic prejudices,” Wachs said. “They don’t want to be around people who they see as unattractive racial minorities.”

Meanwhile, there is concern about the stress and health problems related to long commutes.

Raymond Novaco, a professor at the UC Irvine School of Social Ecology, said studies indicate that those with longer commutes suffer higher blood pressure than those who drive shorter distances.

“A person who travels over 50 miles is sure of increasing the risk of problems related to health,” said Novaco, who said tests of workers revealed that longer commuters suffered more instances of memory loss, mental errors and bad moods.

Stress is what drove Mirna Cannon, a Palmdale resident who works as a legal secretary in Burbank, out of her car and into a van pool. “I was just real tense,” Cannon said. “I knew that I had to work and be nice and not growl at my boss.”

Cannon faced more demands at home. “I have a small child,” she said, “and I just didn’t want to deal with her.”

Some drivers arrive at work exhausted after hours on the road. Super commuter Mark Wilson, a 27-year-old computer system analyst from Oceanside, once took four hours to reach his Burbank office 110 miles away.

“I only worked four hours,” said Wilson, who has made his four-day-a-week commute on a motorcycle ever since he exhausted an old Plymouth Duster. “I just couldn’t handle it. I was just burned out.”

Employers are becoming more aware of the stress stemming from longer drives.

“We are concerned,” said George Wiley, director of employee and government relations for Rockwell International. “It’s not uncommon for people to drive 70 to 85 miles to work. The frustrations of their work day keep increasing because the commute times on the freeways are not getting any better.”

Corporations such as Rockwell have organized van and car pools for their employees. But critics say business’s efforts to help employees have fallen short.

“I think that until today, the trend has been for employers to not to care too much,” Wachs said. “It’s not been defined as within their domain.”

Over time, motorists find their own ways to shorten their commutes.

Novaco at UC Irvine followed up on a group of commuters after two years and found that many had switched jobs “primarily because of the commute.”

“Those people who make an effort to cope made significant improvement to their life satisfaction,” said Novaco, who is now studying the impact of driving on so-called super commuters.

Most residents in Orange County, for example, no longer commute to distant jobs in Los Angeles thanks to the offices and industrial parks that mushroomed in the county.

Orange County’s transformation “is probably occurring on a natural basis in the Inland Empire as well,” said Moon, the transportation planner. “The cities are trying to zone more industry and offices. We might be at the low water mark in terms of the imbalance of jobs” and housing.

A nearly full moon bathed the pine forest in a silver glow as Watson drove up through the mountains and made it home. Despite the normal traffic tie-ups, the evening commute went faster than normal--usually about two hours--and Watson pulled into his garage at 7:34 p.m.

The Douglas C. Watson home features soaring A-frame ceilings and views of tree-covered ridges and Lake Arrowhead. When he arrives from work, Watson and his wife, Sandra, often have dinner outside on a large deck that runs alongside their home.

A lifelong Angeleno, Watson takes pride in the international stature his city has gained during his lifetime but has also become dismayed by increasingly crowded conditions.

“I wanted the big city and cosmopolitan views,” Watson said. “But I was tired of too many people--way too many people.”

So, the Watsons sold their Encino condominium and settled in Lake Arrowhead two years ago.

“This is not a tough commute,” said Watson, sipping a diet soda at the bar of a large, multipurpose room lined with bookcases and a fireplace. “Because we decided we wanted to do it and it’s worth the kind of sacrifice you have to make.”

Of course, added Sandra Watson, her husband does not plan to drive forever. He plans to retire in about four years.

“If you see the light at the end of the tunnel” she said, “you can tolerate almost anything.”