I faced a fear today.
About half a mile from my home is a large urban park with fountains, trees, green spaces, populated by geese and ducks, pigeons and seagulls. It’s close to a first-class public library. It’s a walkable distance to get there and would make a great daily walk destination. Except… to get there requires crossing a not-quite highway called an expressway. These are six-lanes (both ways) with extra lanes at intersections for turning, and with no-stop right-turn merge curves that many people hardly slow down while taking. Oh, there are crosswalks and pedestrian lights. However, the stated speed limit is 45 miles per hour, and I know people easily drive 20 miles per hour over the speed limit. I’ve crossed the road on my bike, but until today I was terrified to walk with Claire in the stroller (or even by myself). Well, terror might be an exaggeration; let’s just say prospect made me very uneasy. I mean, would you feel comfortable crossing this?
When I started the walk I didn’t plan to go. My feet just took over. Except for the right-turn curves — where I made sure to look thrice and wait for oncoming drivers to slow down, see me, and wave me across — it was easily done. I will never attempt this at dusk, dark, or dawn, but I could see us taking walks there more frequently. I suppose I could load the stroller in the car and drive to the park, and save all the walking for the many paths, but a) it seems like a lot more effort and b) it kind of galls me to drive half a mile to take a walk. If you were me, what would you do?
My heart is in my mouth on this one.
A few years ago, a woman at my place of employment was hit by a bus right outside the building while crossing three lanes of one way traffic that we all cross every day to get to work. She was permanently disabled by the accident.
No matter how many times a day I cross that street, and I see that surge of traffic speeding toward me 10-20 miles an hour over the speed limit, I think of her.
The bus driver never even saw her.
There are too many cell phones, too many teenagers, too many old people, too many distracted drivers out there, K. And I didn’t even mention those driving under the influence of any given substance.
I think it’s damned brave of you to have crossed that street. But it also scares the crap out of me that you walked across that street. With your baby.
I don’t care what time of day it is–you have no control over the drivers out there.
This is only my opinion. I’m not you and I can’t say what I’d do if I were you. But if it were me, I wouldn’t risk it. I wouldn’t walk across that street. With a baby. Or, without.
Be galled. Be safe and galled.
I appreciate this, Laurel. I secretly wanted someone to give me “permission” to drive to the park. I was still scared while I did it. I’m not as uncomfortable with the expanse of lanes, where it is obvious the traffic is stopped and the walk signs are lit, as I am with the right-turn merges. One of them is a bit of a blind curve with a monstrous hedge. It still seems like more effort than it’s worth to drive there, but maybe I’ll get over that. I’d rather I and my child remain alive.