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America's Worst Road Trips
Power Trip · January 4, 2004

Which U.S. roads are the most hazardous? As many travelers abandon commercial airlines — one of the safest ways to get around — in favor of autos, it's a question worth asking.

But don't look to the government for answers. I just spent the better part of a day calling every federal agency remotely associated with highway safety, and there are apparently no lists of bad or dangerous roads. Or even of highways that motorists complain about a lot. I've been talking to answering machines and reading one incomprehensible agency Web site after another. As one of my old journalism instructors said, "Down that road lies madness."

Instead, I turned to you to find out which strips of asphalt should be shunned. I asked this column's readers to focus on the roadways more traveled — the major highways we're all likely to roll down at some point in our journeys — paying attention to road conditions, traffic, usability, and overall reputation.

Based on the feedback you gave me, plus my own experiences, here's my list of the five worst.

Interstate 5, between Los Angeles and San Diego. It was difficult to pick just one stretch of I-5, the 1,375-mile interstate highway that runs between Canada and Mexico. There were so many other contenders, especially in California and Washington. But in the end, Southern California's legendary traffic put it over the top.

In portions of Los Angeles and Orange counties, I-5 is, at best, a dangerous parking lot. But once you start heading south, and the cars begin to pick up speed, the parking lot actually starts to move. Then it's as if all the pent-up aggression from sitting in hours of bumper-to-bumper traffic is suddenly released. The cars speed along the freeway at 85 miles an hour as tightly as Blue Angels until some bozo — don't be surprised if it is a convertible packed with college kids bound for Tijuana — decides to break ranks and pass on the right. (Believe me, I know. I used to be one of those kids.) Diane Scholfield, a Web site editor who lives in Oceanside, Calif., says it's difficult to get around this highway from hell — but not impossible. "There really is no good time of the day to avoid the traffic anymore," she says. "So I take the train."

Florida Turnpike, between Orlando and Miami. "Argh," exclaims Barbara Pettit, who lived in the Sunshine State for 18 years. "That road is awful." Not because of the traffic (it's actually far better than trying to take the always-clogged I-95). Not because of road conditions (it's one of the best-maintained roads I've ever traveled on).

No, the Turnpike is terrible for three reasons: First, it's expensive — a 259-mile drive from my exit in Homestead, Fla., to Orlando costs $14.65. Whatever happened to the road taxes we pay? Second, because of the other drivers. If you thought the college kids from Southern California were obnoxious, wait until you try to navigate the caravan of station wagons and rental cars loaded to capacity with screaming kids who can't wait for their theme-park vacation to begin. And, yet, they're nothing compared with the Florida Highway Patrol, which lurks behind the bridges and pulls you over for going three miles over the speed limit. It's happened to me, folks.

However, the Turnpike's single-worst feature, in my opinion, is that it's a boring drive. There's nothing to see along this highway except the intermittent signs imploring you to pull over at Yeehaw Junction for a rest. As if anyone would want to prolong this trip for just one minute more.

I-90, between Madison, Wis., and Chicago. Once again, it was tough to pick a single stretch of roadway along the longest interstate highway in the country. Take it from someone who's been along almost the whole length of the highway numerous times.

But in the end, a well-worn portion of I-90 took top honors. The section of I-90 in Wisconsin and western Illinois reminds me a lot of the drive along Highway 2, south of Fairbanks, Alaska, which is punctuated by potholes the size of basketballs. Except that drive is at least scenic. Once you get into the Chicago suburbs, the fun really begins. Construction, traffic, the chaotic O'Hare International Airport, more traffic and then a labyrinth of confusing road signs that make you wish you'd sprung for one of those on-board navigational computers. "Never again," says Elizabeth Rodriguiz, a secretary from Ypsilanti, Mich. "Not unless I'm under general anesthesia."

New Jersey Turnpike, between the Delaware Memorial Bridge and New York. OK, so traveling the length of this toll road will set you back only about $6, which is roughly what it costs to cross the average bridge in New York. Then again, you shouldn't let the relatively low cost of using this road fool you. It's a nightmare.

If you're coming from the Washington, D.C., area, the fun really begins in Delaware, where you encounter so many tollbooths that you hardly have the opportunity to shift into high gear before having to slow down for the next one. After crossing into the Garden State, you have to contend with some of the most aggressive drivers in the Western world.

The Turnpike is relatively narrow in the southern part — meaning you have to be extra vigilant about these hostile motorists. As you head north, the highway suddenly splits into two, one for trucks and cars, and the other just for cars. Think quickly! Are you a truck and car or just a car? And if that seems difficult, then try it in reverse, merging eight lanes into two on the southbound drive. Can you say "bottleneck"?

Finally, a word of advice for those of you who can find their way past more utterly confusing signage: Keep your windows rolled up in northern New Jersey. Between the oil refineries and pharmaceutical companies along the Turnpike, there is no such thing as fresh air.

I-45, between Dallas and Houston. If you look at a map, this may seem like the fastest way to get from Dallas to Houston. But during the past decade, it's proven to be one of the most frustrating. I remember one late December evening when I drove to Houston on I-45 to spend Christmas with my uncle's family. Rain had abruptly turned into an ice storm, and cars were skidding off the crowded road like I hadn't seen since a freak snowstorm that we encountered along I-80 from Sacramento, Calif., to Reno, Nev.

Making matters worse was the fact that the highway was just too narrow to accommodate all the cars. That's something the state of Texas has been working to fix for the better part of the last decade. Translation: lots of delays. And by some accounts, there are more in the works as officials ponder yet another expansion of this road. There are other downsides of the drive down I-45, including the fact that everyone seems to be in such a hurry to get to their destination that they believe they own the road. In the end, this stretch of highway is probably so bad because everyone wants to use it at the same time.

I know what you're thinking. I missed your least favorite drive, right? Well, let me hear about it. Send me an e-mail and nominate the interstate you love to hate. While you are at it, let me know what your most favorite highway is too, because chances are, I'll revisit this subject soon.

Christopher Elliott is a travel commentator based in Key Largo, Fla. All e-mailed questions may be edited, condensed or republished at the site's discretion.

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