Blazing a trail on Highway 25
By the time you’re reading this, you probably have driven on the
new Hwy. 25 bypass through town. Pretty cool, isn’t it?
At the time I stared writing this, however, I had just
accomplished my goal of being one of the first people to drive the
length of the road
– legally, at least.
Blazing a trail on Highway 25
By the time you’re reading this, you probably have driven on the new Hwy. 25 bypass through town. Pretty cool, isn’t it?
At the time I stared writing this, however, I had just accomplished my goal of being one of the first people to drive the length of the road – legally, at least.
My quest began at 9 a.m. last Thursday, around the time the bypass was scheduled to open. I took a left on the part of the bypass that had been open – the south end near the Tres Pinos/Sunnyslope intersection. As I got near East Park Street, I saw that the signal lights had been switched on and there were guys standing outside their Graniterock trucks, but the cones were still there.
It was time to get to work at the paper, so I headed there and delayed my quest for awhile. I set out again at 10:25, figuring that by the time I got to another part of the bypass it would be open and I could jump on.
I drove down Meridian and saw a guy holding a “Slow” sign, but the cones were still up. I drove back to Sunnyslope Road and took another right, heading toward Park Street – same guys were there, standing outside their trucks, waiting for the word that they could let traffic through.
I headed through town back to the San Felipe entrance to the bypass, wasting gas in my effort to be a trailblazer. Officials from the Council of Governments were standing there in their business clothes, talking with road crews and a CHP officer. It had been 15 minutes since I left The Pinnacle, and still no luck.
I took a U-turn and headed back through downtown, left at Nash, and gave it one more try at the south entrance to the bypass. The Graniterock guy was still at his truck, probably wondering why this weird guy in the silver truck kept driving by looking all hopeful.
My gas tank needle continued to fall toward empty as I gave the San Felipe side one more shot. The COG people were gone, leaving a lone truck blocking the intersection. It still wasn’t open and it was almost 11 now, most of my morning wasted. I headed back to the office.
With my hopes nearly dashed, the call came in on the police scanner at 11:28 a.m.: “Information: the bypass is now open.”
I sprung from my office chair, jumped into my truck parked just outside and headed back to San Felipe at a quick, at-the-speed-limit pace. This was my chance!
As I reached the bypass, I turned right and slowed down as the work truck that had been blocking the intersection moved out of the way. No one was in front of me on the southbound side; no one was behind me; if I wasn’t the first driver on this side of the bypass, I was one of the first.
Mission accomplished! Wow, it doesn’t take much to excite me! Why am I using so many exclamation points!?
The first part of the bypass from the north takes a sweeping turn through ag land, first toward the Diablo Range then south toward town. A Caltrans truck and a CHP car were heading north along with a few other cars that just realized the bypass was open. Had they been trying to be the first driver on the road like me? Doubt it. They just got lucky to be in the right place at the right time.
Now they were stealing a bit of my thunder.
The view from the bypass is interesting, with a nice view of Park Hill as you near the Santa Ana Road light. Cones were still being lifted as I headed through the sound wall corridor near Meridian. After a red light, I continued the length of the bypass and was back at Tres Pinos/Sunnyslope Road, my pioneering journey complete … almost.
For the sake of journalism, I made one more U-turn and decided to time how long it took to get from the Safeway side of the bypass to the San Felipe side. Despite stopping at two red lights and obeying the 35 mph speed limit (wow, that seems low), I made the 2.1-mile trek in four minutes. Not bad.
I can now look back and say with confidence that I was one of the first people to drive the length of the bypass, after waiting years for it to open. It means nothing to anybody but me, like when you set a new high score on a video game or make a crazy basketball shot in the backyard when nobody is watching.
I am a self-described highway trailblazer, and I will allow no one to “bypass” me for that title.
