The cause of traffic: A theory

My brother refers to it as a “Utah Roadblock.”

It’s basically two cars, next to each other, each in their respective lanes, traveling at the same speed . . . usually 5-10 miles under the speed limit.

This, of course, prevents anyone from passing.

Why Utah? I don’t know. But it’s definitely a roadblock.

When I first started working, I left my house every morning at 5:30 a.m.

I know.

As you can imagine, there is little or no traffic on the road at 5:30 a.m. On snowy mornings there are surplus commuters who, diligently, leave some extra time to arrive safely at work, and join those of us who enjoy the relatively vacant, albeit snow-packed or icy, roads.

Most days now, I leave for work at about 8 a.m., and there are many more folks on the road.

Some mornings are fantastic. I get in my car. I zoom up Broadway and I’m at work in about 20 minutes. Other mornings, it takes twice that and I sit in my car, in traffic, and fume.

On those mornings when the commute is inexplicably slow, and when my view of the road ahead is unimpeded by an SUV, I rarely see two unending lines of brake lights.

What I do see are two cars, next to each other in either lane, four or five cars ahead of me, tootling along as though they were looking for a parking space at Safeway.

And so I have a theory.

I think that the Colorado Department of Transportation hires teamsters (or they might be robots), in intervals of two and three to drive next to one another at the same speed, headed in the same direction as the commute, on dozens of Denver’s major thoroughfares.

They arrive at an appointed location at 7:12 a.m. each morning and leave in 10 to 15 minutes intervals, like shuttle buses. They travel in either lane, next to one another as though some magical bond prevented one from leaving the side of the other.

I think they’re paid a ridiculous amount of money and are encouraged to select roads at random to foil the commutes of other, everyday working stiffs, like me.

In fact, I think they’re paid based on the number of cars each one amasses in a lineup behind them. There might even be bonuses associated with the number of obscene gestures each one receives from frustrated commuters stranded behind them.

Occasionally, there is a lapse in the synchronization of the two or three traffic impeders. Then, like vultures waiting for the lions to leave the carcass after a kill, one or two cars in each lane can break free from the rest of the herd.

Sweet victory! They are free.

They speed ahead as the impeders correct their mistake and close ranks. Sadly, those of us left behind, slump back in our seats and accept that we will be late to work.

The problem for me isn’t that these folks are on the road during the commute. Times are tough and if you can get a job as a traffic impeder, then more power to ya. It pays well, and you’re never late to work.

My problem is I don’t quite understand who let the two slowest people get in front of them in the first place.

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