One of my most vivid memories of travelling in the Southern Interior is a trip from Richmond to Ashcroft in August 1978. We were headed to the cabin on Cornwall Mountain where we often spent weekends, and my brother and I were excited to have two friends from Ottawa with us.
I'm sure we all had a wonderful time at the cabin, but what stands out about the trip is the prolonged stop on Highway 1 near the split rock north of Spences Bridge. A major road construction project (almost certainly the realignment of the highway at Kingsway Corner) was in progress, so there we sat in the blistering heat, with not a leaf of shade, waiting for our turn to move forward.
We were in a 1972 Gran Torino station wagon whose air conditioning system — which consisted of winding down the windows — was only effective when the car was in motion (and only if a blast of hot air is your idea of air conditioning). The seats were covered in vinyl, and since we were all wearing shorts, getting out of the car to try to find a hint of breeze, or escape the glaring sun, meant ripping bare flesh off the vinyl, like tearing away the world's biggest Bandaid.
I'm sure the construction at the site meant long waits for thousands of motorists for the duration. I'm also sure that anyone travelling through the area today appreciates that long-ago project, now that the pain of all those lengthy waits in the hot sun is forgotten (except by me). You see, that's the thing about highway construction projects: they're a pain in the proverbial while they're happening, but once they're done you're left with something a lot better than what was there before.
Don't believe me? Take a look at the pictures of the newly-completed section of Highway 1 at Falls Creek/Jackass Mountain, which is one sleek piece of road. Yes, there was a lot of grumbling about the delays while it was single-lane alternating traffic with a pilot car, but I think we can all agree that it was more than worth it.
Part of the problem with major road projects is that (at least in our neck of the woods) they take place during summer, when people are hitting the road in large numbers. The way some people react, you'd think that the timing was designed to inconvenience as many people as possible, rather than an acknowledgement that it's the only time such projects can realistically be carried out. There's a reason you don't see big highway construction projects in this region in February or November, which makes the speed with which both the Coquihalla and Highway 1 were reopened to traffic following the flooding in November 2021 even more remarkable.
One of the dangers of drivers' frustration with construction delays is the propensity of some people to try to make up for lost time afterwards, exceeding the speed limit even more than they usually would to get those 10 or 15 minutes back. According to BC Highway Patrol, speed is one of the top three contributing factors to traffic accidents and fatalities. That's especially dangerous on the winding highways of the B.C. Interior, which can be tricky even for people who drive them often and know them well.
And I haven't even mentioned the people who flagrantly disregard the speed limits within construction zones, or (worse) abuse the flaggers and other workers as they try to do their jobs and improve our highways. These people should be condemned to sit at a construction site in a Gran Torino station wagon in August, with vinyl seats, no shade, and no air conditioning, until they have seen the error of their ways.
We all gain from highway improvements, and it's worth the relatively short-term pain. And for anyone who misses being able to complain about long waits at Falls Creek, good news: you can still complain about the long waits at Nicomen, and when that project is done there will be long waits at Tank Hill to look forward to. Road construction: the gift that keeps on giving, in more ways than one.
