Like many other Americans, Kish and I hit the road this Labor Day weekend. In our case, it was a quick, overnight trip to Chicago to attend the 30th wedding anniversary of our old friends Ken and LuAnn (more on that later). We left yesterday morning on a clear day, made good time to Indianapolis, rolled past the sun-dappled fields of slowly turning windmill turbines north of West Lafayette on I-65, zipped through Gary . . . and then we hit the inevitable stopped traffic on I-94 east of Chicago.
When Richard was at Northwestern we drove to Chicago in all seasons and at all times of day. It made no difference when we arrived in the vicinity — any time of night or day, any day of the week, there was a traffic jam of angry drivers that started east of Chicago. Without fail, you lost an hour and a half crawling west through the snarl until you were well past downtown.
It is a real pain, and always makes a trip to Chicago much less enjoyable. I don’t think I could live in Chicago if I had to drive downtown to work.