The pretty colors I’ve drawn on the map represent the roads in the commonwealth on which I’ve traveled this month. I’ve driven from one end of the state to the other and the closest thing to a transportation crisis I encountered was in Abingdon when I took the advice of Emeril over that of my navigation system. There is no transportation crisis.
Granted, I didn’t drive into Northern Virginia and don’t intend to. Anywhere northeast of Charlottesville may as well be New Jersey. Transportation in NOVA is not a crisis but a headache as it has been for the past twenty years. Like Al Gore creating a crisis to grab attention for global warming, (I believe it is appropriate to have an over-representation of factual presentations on how dangerous it is, as a predicate for opening up the audience to listen to what the solutions are, and how hopeful it is that we are going to solve this crisis.) NOVA has created a crisis in order to procure tax dollars. Even with all the tax dollars being thrown at NOVA in the past, they’ve managed to pave their way into a crisis. Should we keep feeding the beast? Only if we want to encourage the beast to keep returning.
Twenty years ago, when I was a young, idealistic college student, I often stayed with friends who resided in Fairfax and Prince William counties. While I didn’t understand their choice to spend 45 minutes to an hour to visit Tyson’s Corner, which was so close to their homes, they didn’t understand my choice to spend the same amount of time to go to Bristol Mall, fifty miles from my home. I preferred to spend my driving time actually driving and not sitting in traffic. They were accustomed to sitting and didn’t seem to mind. It was a “way of life,” a choice, certainly not a crisis.
People in congested areas can now make a choice: Either continue to moan and groan for Big Mama Jenny to come slap even more asphalt on the earth and throw in a tunnel and some bridges for good measure so development can continue and the “crisis” will continue OR be self-reliant. If sitting in traffic isn’t YOUR way of life, maybe you shouldn’t live in a congested area.
In 2000, I moved to Goochland County. I loved it because of its rural atmosphere - no traffic lights, no fast food restaurants, lots of rolling pastures, etc. It was a longer drive to enjoy the amenities Richmond had to offer, but the way of life was worth it. That changed as Richmond’s west end kept spreading into Goochland. In 2001, a series of town meetings was held by the planning commission so that Goochland residents could voice their concerns about the growth:
The first question that was asked at all of the town meetings was “What do you like about living in Goochland?” Definite trends were able to be drawn from the responses to this question. People like the open space and rural atmosphere of the county. Grouped in to this rural atmosphere would be amenities such as horses, being able to see the stars at night, the James River, golf courses, rolling countryside, forests, and peace and quiet. They like the convenience of the interstate and its proximity to Richmond and Charlottesville. Other things that people liked related more to development issues, including low turnover of real estate, low density development, the new high school, the presence of large lots, the lack of commercial shopping
centers and malls, and the demand for quality development. Comments that were particular to certain areas of the county included a fondness for the post office in Hadensville and access to the interstate in Hadensville, Centerville and Oilville.
An overall summary of the meetings would suggest that most people would like for the county to remain rural and to retain the existing open space. In addition, higher density growth should be directed to the villages, and the village concept should be enforced. Traffic is a growing concern for residents but only to the point where existing roads should be maintained without increasing capacity. In rural areas, cluster-type development is preferred so that open space is preserved.
Our concerns were voiced but the growth came anyway . . . according to this chart, only TWO shopping malls opened in the entire United States in 2003:
Wouldn’t you know that both of them were within twelve miles of my house? The addition of West Creek business park added even more time to my daily commute of thirty miles (round trip). Now it would take an hour . . . to go thirty miles . . . and I had to make the trip twice a day.
The final straw came when the largest subdivision in Goochland County sprang up behind my barn. This development killed what was left of my peace and quiet as well as my patience. My real estate taxes tripling to help fund the amenities for my new neighbors didn’t help, either. It never occurred to me to start begging the state for money to pave my way out of my dilemma. It was the damned pavement that caused my dilemma!
If you go to Red Lobster and you’re told that you’ll have an hour wait, do you start whining for another Red Lobster? I hope not. You make a choice: wait an hour or go somewhere else. For some, an hour may not seem like a long time. For me, life’s too short. I made the decision not to wait. I moved to a place where I could actually drive and not sit idling my engine. In the coming posts, I intend to tell you why you should make the same choice.
I haven’t read this book but I hope it has a chapter on what you should do when:
