Road Wage

Toll roads in California? I guess the world really is coming to an end.

In Ohio, where I grew up, the open road wasn’t so much wide open as pay as you go. My open road was the Ohio Turnpike, which involved stopping periodically to pay tolls, which, in turn, meant having to slow down. If you couldn’t let it rip and had to pay a toll--well, what was this, some police state? Someday I’ll show everybody! I’ll move out West, where the range is still open and I don’t have to slow down!

Years later I settled in California and embarked on a happy career of traversing the local freeways, which lived up to their billing of being free. Alas, over time, I encountered obstacles worse than tollbooths. SigAlerts: They cramped my style. And I became an expert on shortcuts, even incorporating “surface streets” into my vocabulary.

Still, I was reluctant to use the recently constructed San Joaquin Hills, Foothill and Eastern toll roads, the generally uncongested freeway bypasses that now crisscross Southern California. What had So Cal come to? Ohio? Several months ago, I had a change of heart. I am a frequent visitor to Dana Point, home to relatives kind enough to live atop the cliffs at the ocean. I like to get there quickly, as the slogan for the toll roads correctly claims, “Because life’s too short.”

So I decided to make the turnoff for California 73 at Costa Mesa as I was heading south on I-405 from Los Angeles for deep Orange County. This is the perfect place for the cutoff--it allows drivers to avoid the always clogged “Y,” where the 405 and I-5 intersect and Disneyland looms, which--oddly--makes my lungs collapse and my eyes bleed. The traffic immediately thinned out. So did the number of cars under $20,000--obviously the toll roads are private thoroughfares for the Hyundai-free classes.

Moving like a bullet, I quickly forgot about this particular injustice and thought only about me, arriving in Dana Point 40 minutes ahead of schedule. Yeah, baby, born to be wild! So what if it costs $2.25? I use as much in gas while stalled on the 405, a freeway that, alas, is no longer free.

Plus, I now save air fare by not going back to Ohio. Why bother? When I yearn for the taxed asphalt of yesteryear, I just head for the backyard.