I was an accidental tourist to hell on a recent Saturday afternoon.
I was just west of Harlem Avenue driving east on North Boulevard. My goal was Oak Park Avenue.
Dope that I am, I had forgotten that the Oak Park Micro Brew and Food Review was being held on Marion Street near North Boulevard that afternoon.
And nobody in Oak Park officialdom took the bother to remind me.
As I had done so many times over so many years, I drove across Harlem. But this time, when I was a half-block between Harlem and Marion, North Boulevard just ended. There was a barricade and sign that read “Road closed.”
Great. Now you tell me.
Other drivers and I were trapped.
We couldn’t go back and we couldn’t go forward.
All we could do was turn left into the parking lot. The lot was choked with cars just stopped, their drivers not sure what to do or how to get out. Bike riders wobbled slowly, seemingly unsure of where they were going or how to get there.
Reaching Marion Street was nearly impossible.
The only feasible answer was somehow to get back to Harlem Avenue to drive to an east-west street that could be taken around downtown Oak Park.
But you know what the intersection of Harlem Avenue and Lake Street is like. And you know how much worse it is during the day on Saturday. And you know how much more worse it is when there is a festival happening in the area.
So, getting back to Harlem Avenue was a lot easier said than done.
I pulled into the line of cars, SUVs and bikes heading west on Westgate into Harlem. Few drivers on Harlem felt like letting in drivers from Westgate on this hot and humid day. So, it took a very long time.
But I shouldered my way in. Finally.
As I drove past the mammoth building project at Lake Street and Home Avenue I couldn’t help thinking how much traffic congestion it is going to add.
And that parking lot I was able to use for my escape someday won’t be there. More building. More congestion.
All I can hope is that someone will think to put that “Road closed” sign at Harlem and North Boulevard so drivers won’t become enmeshed in that traffic web with – literally – no place to go.
All that heat, humidity and congestion and I didn’t even have a chance to sample the fare at the Oak Park Micro Brew and Food Review.
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Visions of icy, cold beer danced in my head.
Next year.
Paul Sassone is a freelance columnist for Pioneer Press.