Lots of Cones, but No Ice Cream

I was at my computer looking at one of the local online news services when I spotted an exciting headline. “There’s no construction scheduled on Hollister Ave. today,” I yelled to my wife.

Pat ran into the kitchen and grabbed the car keys. “To the waterfront for lunch and ice cream,” she said in a sing-songy voice.

A new message popped up. The first word was “Retraction.” Dang.

We decided to try taking the 101 freeway south to the harbor instead, racing down the Patterson freeway onramp to join a parking lot squeezed into two lanes, moving at about an inch a minute. We did manage to nose in when the driver behind us nodded off for a minute. But I could not get the cruise control set at .5 mph, so I had to manually not push the gas pedal down. 

“I wonder how long this goes on?” I opened MapQuest on my iPhone. The 101 was solid red, plus while I was distracted a large truck edged in front of us, completely blocking my view. “Same Day Deliveries” it said on the side. Someone had crossed out the word “Day” and written the word “Month.” Even that seemed optimistic.

“How’s the northbound look?” Pat asked. 

“MapQuest just shows a sad face emoticon.”

“What about Cathedral Oaks?”

“Death’s Head.”

“What was it that tour lady in Alaska said?” Pat asked.

“She said they have two seasons in Anchorage: winter and road repair.”

“Wow, at least they have winter.”

I don’t ever remember this much road work in Santa Barbara or anywhere. Even in New Hampshire where I grew up and they have to fix all the frost heaves every spring, they do a bunch of creative patchwork, which they finish in a few months so they can all go to the Maine coast for summer Lobster Fests.

I think what may have happened this year is that Caltrans got a huge allotment from the Bipartisan Infrastructure bill, and they gathered everyone together for a big meeting.

“What shall we do with all these new funds?” someone most likely asked. I’m sure this resulted in a lot of “hmms” before someone suggested a group trip to the annual “Shovel, Rake, and Autonomous Driving Backhoe” convention in Las Vegas. 

“I heard that new Tesla AI backhoe dug a really deep hole all by itself along the 405, then drove itself in and buried itself. They’re erecting a commemorative plaque next week. Gonna shut down at least two lanes for half a day.”

“Cool!”

After the Las Vegas show was nixed because Caltrans employees figured they wouldn’t be able to drive out on the 10 without stopping to fix it, someone probably said: “I know. Let’s buy some cones with our new money. Lots of cones.”

“Great idea! We can put a few on every single road in Santa Barbara County.”

“We’ll have to hire some extra cone droppers and picker-uppers.”

“No problem.”

“And we’ll have to employ more flagpersons, of course.”

“And buy more Flagging Instruction Handbooks.”

“For fun, let’s get some signs made that say STOP on both sides.”

There was light laughter, but not from the flagpersons…

We were actually making some progress now on our foray in search of lunch, even getting as far as the giant digital speed warning machine. “Slow Down” it read in large letters. “You Are Now Going 3.”

But we got off 10 minutes later, along with dozens of other vehicles, having only made it to the next off-ramp. We crawled back up Hollister. Even though it was just after noon, I checked to make sure the lights were set on automatic in case it got dark before we made it home.

Don’t get me wrong. I think Caltrans workers are some of the bravest individuals on Earth. Not only because they wear orange clothes in public, but because they have to keep one eye on their project and one eye out for the creative drivers, like high-pitched café-style motorcyclists and Honda Civics with blacked out windows, farting exhaust, and racing spoilers on the back. 

“Maybe we should go to Solvang for lunch,” Pat suggested.

“How is the 154?” I asked Siri on my iPhone. Siri just laughed.

Oh well. How long can a five-billion-dollar infrastructure investment last anyway?