There is a controlled chaos on the
Tri-State Tollway, the 78-mile toll road that wraps around the
western side of Chicago.
Cars and trucks vie for position, often
barreling along at an 80-mph clip, zipping between each other, doing
two- or three-lane shifts and being motorized versions of angst and
anger. Drivers swoop among lanes, doing a dance of mayhem to get
ahead of the slower cars ahead of them, to make their exits or to
reach the cash lanes of the three toll stops.
More than 1.4 million motorists dare
the stretch each day, according to the Illinois State Highway
Authority.
I've been on the tollway, or “the
294” as some locals call it, 12 times now. It's the last leg of my
journey to visit my Illinois girl whom I've written about here a lot
lately. After a lengthy 7.5 hours on the road that leads to the
entrance of the 294 off of Interstate 57, it wakes me up. You have to
be alert to navigate the 294. And, on the inverse, the first stretch
of my return trip is on the tollway and it keeps the sadness of
parting with her at bay for about an hour. The sorrow of leaving her
hits hard when I see the large green highway sign indicating the exit
for I-57 and Memphis is a quarter mile ahead and the frenzied pace of
the tollroad is over.
I'm not a veteran of the 294 and I've
not driven the entirety of it. It begins at Interstate 80, some three
miles south of where I join it. And it ends at the Wisconsin line
after becoming I-94. I exit about 10 miles south of its conclusion.
Despite its name, the Tri-State does not cross into Indiana or
Wisconsin.
l don't have the battle scars of those
locals who use the toll road each day — the dented fenders, the
refillable prescriptions for xanax or the handful of gun misdemeanors
in Illinois district courts. But since I've logged more than 750
miles on the thing so far, I feel compelled to discuss it.
I've driven the 294 in sunny weather
and at night. During sleet, snow and rain. I was on it during the
Groundhog Day Thunderstorm on Feb. 2 this year that knocked out power
at the Waukegan police station and made the Chicago news that night.
On that same run, a tractor-trailer rig caught on fire in the
southbound near where 94 becomes the 294. Traffic backed up for an
hour in heavy rain. At least the truck driver had the decency to pull
over into the emergency lane before the cab of his vehicle totally
burned. I can see the 294 drivers, though, as they pass by: “Pull
off the road, why don'tcha,” they'd snarl as they zip by.
It's a far cry from the roads we have
in Arkansas. Sure, we have concrete, but I don't know of anywhere in
the state more than three lanes of road exist. The 294 has a minimum
of four lanes and at times, near the O'Hare Airport and the Willow
Lane exit, for example, there are six lanes. Cars swirl around,
looking like the hovering dances of hummingbirds at feeders. The last
time I was on it on Monday, I saw two trucks move from Lane 3 to Lane
2 while a car switched from 2 to 3, threading between the two trucks.
It was death defying and a daring display of driving deft.
For those uninitiated with the tollway,
you can simulate the experience. Sit in your car and imagine passing
30 orange Schneider trucks on the right and left, and clench your
butt so tight you could break 10-penny nails. Constantly check your
rear view and side mirrors, Twist your head back and forth like a
maniacal ventriloquist doll and still doubt any moves you may want to
make. But don't hesitate. Hesitate and you're a goner, stuck behind
some ol' truck creeping along only at about 55 mph.
The cash lanes are also a pain to
contend with. There are three toll stops along the stretch, each
offering either the I-pass lane that allows motorists to buy their
way around the booths or the traditional toll booths. Drivers have to
pull off the 294 to the right, drive down a 100-yard wide concrete
apron and chose a booth lane to pay the $1.50 to continue. If you're
trapped in the outside lanes when the cash exit approaches, you must
maneuver to the right. (I later learned after making such a maneuver
to make the cash lane that had I missed a payment, I could later pay
on line. This was after I nearly cut off a semi and made a Lane 3 to
1 shift quickly, yet smoothly.) The toll booth operator raises the
gate and the driver is off, immediately revving up to 70 mph or so to
gain the proper speed to access the 294 again. It's akin to a pit
stop during the Indianapolis 500.
So, it's controlled and chaotic. I've
done it a dozen times now and I'm sure I'll do it dozens of more
times. Even the hotel where I stay when visiting my Illinois girl
sits beside I-94. The whine of the tires is endless and at times,
while in my room, I can hear the road beckoning for me to get back on
it and negotiate the lane changes, the tolls and the insane drivers.
