If Toll Road Is Like Restaurant, No Reservations Are Needed

My memory isn’t what it used to be, so I had to dip into the archives to remember what the meetings were like 10 years ago, when some people thought they could stop the San Joaquin Hills tollway from cutting a swath through beautiful Laguna Canyon.

What heady times they were.

Opponents fought in court and on the roadsides. They went to county offices in Santa Ana and to City Hall in Laguna Beach. They talked about civil disobedience at the toll road construction sites or, maybe, a unified opposition from South County cities.

Then, things just died. There was a meeting in Laguna Beach in March 1993 when then-Mayor Lida Lenney captured the alternating hope and futility of the moment. “I’m confident this road is not going to be built,” she said, only to say a few moments later, “We’re losing this battle.”

The toll road eventually opened in November 1996, even as naysayers argued loud and long that the road never would generate the traffic its supporters predicted.

What do you know, the naysayers were right. The tollway hasn’t come close to its estimates, and this week, one Wall Street ratings agency downgraded to junk status more than $1billion in bonds for the tollway while another maintained the road’s investment-level rating. The reason was the same one we’d heard almost since the tollway opened: It’s not as popular as its supporters expected and, as a result, isn’t generating the revenue that was forecast.

Tollway officials say things will be fine, although they haven’t been right about many things over the years. For those of us who drive the San Joaquin from time to time, an essential truth hasn’t changed much: Unless you drive in rush hour, there’s nobody on the road. Nobody, that is, by Southern California standards--and certainly not enough to justify it being there.

I figured that position was unassailable, so I decided to revisit Jack Camp, who owns an urban planning company in Laguna Beach. A decade ago, he favored the toll road, even while suggesting some design changes.

With five years of flagging ridership on the books, I wondered if Camp still favors it.

“My feeling is that if we didn’t have the road, we’d be in a lot worse shape,” he says. “Eventually, it will pan out as growth continues in South County, and it will be beneficial.”

I ask why the road has flopped so far. “People are cheap,” Camp said. “But as we continue to develop in South County, people are going to use it. They’re going to realize it’s a better way. It’s still relatively new. I use it, but only when I have to hurry and get up to Newport Beach.”

I don’t understand all the ramifications of Wall Street’s bond ratings, but tollway officials say a default on the bonds is not imminent.

In the next breath, however, they acknowledge the need to raise the price of the ride again. That sounds like a formula for decreasing revenue, especially if a typical rider is like Camp, who takes the San Joaquin only in a pinch. Three bucks a shot may reduce the urgency.

In a sense, the tollway supporters always have an argument you can’t rebut: Whatever traffic is on the San Joaquin--even if it’s less than projected--is traffic that would have been on the 5 or the 405 or Coast Highway.

I’ll grant them that, but it’s maddening when public officials miss the mark so badly on what the public wants. The bottom line is that the masses didn’t want the San Joaquin nearly as much as the developers.

What we’ve got is a highway that operates more like a restaurant that’s only open at lunch and dinner.

You couldn’t blame the tollway opponents of yesteryear if they’re gloating now. They’re not, however, because they know now what they knew then:

Once the canyon was carved away, it wasn’t coming

back.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.