And We Go 'Round and 'Round and 'Round in the Circle Game

The guy on the radio asked if we could guess which city ranked number one as the worst city in America to drive in, and I blurted it out before he could even finish the question. Yep, that's right, hands-down, the worst city in America to drive in is good 'ol Boston Massachusetts. Of course I didn't need a survey to tell me that. No, I've driven cross-country at least nine or ten times (did I tell you I hate to fly) and across Canada twice, and no city I've ever been through - not Seattle , not Washington DC, not even the big apple even comes close to Boston in terms of nightmare places to drive. In fact Boston is unique in that it is the only place I've ever driven where you can get totally lost even with map in hand.

I still remember the first time I drove Boston about 15 or 20 years ago. I flew into Logan airport planning to rent a car and drive to my hotel in Cambridge, Mass. On the map this looked like a fairly simple procedure. Just exit the airport, get on the freeway, cross the Charles River, and make a left towards Harvard University. So I rented my car, took one of the little maps they had at the counter, got my bearings, headed out of the airport and managed to wind up in Salem, Massachusetts (which, by the way, is no where near Cambridge).

How did I end up in Salem, you may ask. Well, I don't know. I was doing alright at first. I was on the freeway going over the river, and everything was going great until I took the wrong exit off the freeway. Of course I didn't know it was the wrong exit at the time so I just drove and drove until suddenly I looked out the front windshield and saw the Atlantic Ocean lying out in front of me. Hmmm, I said, that doesn't seem right, and sure enough after checking my map I saw that Cambridge shouldn't be next to the ocean but in the completely opposite direction.

Well that's ok, I said, applying my California driving skills to the problem, I'll just head back towards the freeway and start all over again . Unfortunately, before I could find the freeway I had to figure out where the hell I was, and therein lies the first problem with driving around the greater Boston area. You see, in California we have these things called street signs. You generally find them at intersections and they help the driver identify not only the street he is currently travelling, but cross streets as well. They don't have street signs in Massachusetts, however, because apparently all those Harvard and MIT grads out there have got the entire state memorized and don't need them. I need them, though, and so I looked and looked for a sign and couldn't find one, and then I drove a little further and still couldn't find one, and a little further, and so on and so on, until finally I just said the heck with it and turned the car around and headed back in the direction I just came. Which brings me to the second problem with Boston driving.

You see, in California we tend to have very simple intersections. Two roads meet at more or less perpindicular angles and you have the choice of turning right or left or continuing straight ahead. Around Boston, however, things aren't so easy because (1) the roads don't run perpindicular but kind of meander around this way and that and meet at all sorts of crazy angles and (2) a lot of times when roads meet they come from all different directions and just bunch together like pieces of knotted string. So like I said, I turned around and started back the way I came but soon discovered the road looked very different when viewed from the opposite direction, and sure enough it wasn't long before I came to one of these seven-way intersections where I had the choice of going kind of down and to the right, or kind of up and to the right, or straight ahead, or kind of straight ahead but a little to the left, or kind of ... well, you get the picture. Oh, and did I mention - no street signs!

So the light was red and I was desperately searching my map for big knotty intersections next to the ocean, but I couldn't find any and didn't have a clue which way I was supposed to go. Suddenly a little bulb went off above my head and I remembered an old children's game - one potato, two potato, three potatoes, four. The light turned green and I said "Ok, that way looks good" and off I drove. Well the road started off ok, I mean it seemed to going in the right direction, but then it started to meander on me and soon I was looking out of my windshield at the Atlantic Ocean again. Only this time I was really lost and didn't have a clue where I was at.

And then I had another brainstorm. I was looking at my map and noticed that if I just followed the ocean north, I should run into an east-west road sooner or later that would take me back to the freeway. It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, and would have worked except for the third problem I had with driving around Boston. This third one is hard to describe because, you see, we don't have these in California, or anywhere else west of the Appalachians as far as I know. But out in Boston they've got these wonderful little things, little traffic devices they like to call Rotaries. Up in Canada they have them and call them roundabouts, but up until that first trip to Boston I had never run into one before. Little did I know I was about to get an education.

A rotary, for the uninitiated out there, is a little traffic circle that is used to connect intersections together. They were invented in France, I believe, and the most famous one is probably that thing that runs around the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. The idea is simple. Cars enter the rotary and go around in a circle until they reach their destination, at which point they exit the rotary. The cars in the rotary have the right of way and those entering the rotary yield to the traffic in the rotary until it safe to enter. That's the theory, anyways, and after all what could be simpler. My experience, however, was a little different.

First let me say I was lost and didn't know where I was going. Second, I didn't know what a rotary was. And third, it was about 6 o'clock in the evening and the height of rush hour when I entered this one. Now, remember, in theory when you enter the rotary you are supposed to yield to the traffic in the rotary and enter when safe. Well, safe is a relative term, I guess, because when I approached the rotary all I found was total, dog-eat-dog chaos. Cars were racing around in circles, weaving in and out, cutting each other off, leaning on their horns and in no mood to let some newbie from California "enter when safe". To their credit, though, I must say that Massachusetts drivers are an exeptionally patient and understanding lot, and as I sat at the entrance waiting for a chance to enter it seemed the cars lined up behind me went out of their way to be helpful. I remember looking in my rear view mirror at them and seeing their arms sticking out their windows, middle fingers extended up in the air, which seemed incredibly thoughtful to me. It was some type of signal, I thought, sort of the polite Massachusetts way of gesturing "Yes, you may safely proceed now." Ah how fondly I remember all the friends I made that day.

Eventually I got tired of waiting and decided to just say the hell with it, it's not my car, and hit the accelerator and jumped into the fray. I made it into the rotary (although I wouldn't say "safely") and started my little adventure. Soon it became apparent to me that in Massachusetts, at least, yield is strictly an acadamic term, and in reality the car that has the right of way is whatever car you happen to be in at the time. Once I got used to it I was alright. You know, it's a kind of a "kill or be killed" experience. The adrenaline starts flowing, the blood pressure starts rising, and pretty soon I was giving others the old Massachusetts signal just like they had so kindly extended to me. Unfortunately I still didn't know where I was going (did I mention -no signs!) and so I just one potato, two potatoed it out of the rotary and went on my way.

And I never found that east-west road. About a half hour or so later I was in Salem and no, it wasn't Cambridge, it wasn't my hotel, but then Salem is a nice town. Sort of quaint and New Englandy with little sailboats dotting the ocean, and so I stopped by the famous House of Seven Gables and walked around the grounds a while before I got back in my car made my way back to interstate. The interstate took me south and about five hours after landing at Logan I finally managed to make it to my hotel where I parked my car, slept all night, and then made the decision to take the MTA the entire rest of my stay. Thank God for the MTA. It had routes and maps and all I needed to remember was what color train to take.

Just as a postscript, the survey didn't mention the easiest city to drive in but I'd have to say Chicago, Illinois. Once you learn the freeways (let's see the Ike, the Kennedy, the Stevenson, the Tri-State, the Dan Ryan, ...) Chicago is a piece of cake. My kind a town.