I ventured into the dreaded traffic jams of Las Vegas last weekend, and I survived.
As a matter of fact, I zipped through the city at 5:30 p.m. on a Thursday on Highway 95. I was driving 65 mph at times, 55 most of the time and only slowed to 45 when I had to pass through Nevada Department of Transportation construction sites.
From the northern edge of Las Vegas all the way to Henderson, it took me 23 minutes.
Twenty-three minutes.
Now, I realize there are some very jammed-up streets in Las Vegas. And I was inbound, for the most part, while rush-hour traffic was outbound.
But the fact is, most of the time there is a way through and around Las Vegas on a freeway that flows like water.
Where did I get into a traffic jam? Well, let's try Las Vegas Boulevard on a Saturday. Traffic was bumper to bumper, yet it didn't take me 20 minutes to get from downtown to the middle of the Strip.
As Carson City residents wait for another decade to get a bypass, we're often told that the state is simply overwhelmed by demands from the south for highway construction. I hadn't been to Las Vegas in many years, so I admit I was starting to wonder whether we shouldn't act like the nice capital city folks we are and help ease the plight of those poor southerners.
Sorry. Today, I have no doubts.
Am I supposed to feel sorry for the bus driver who moved to Las Vegas two weeks ago from Michigan and didn't know how to get to Lake Mead?
Am I supposed to feel sorry for the taxi driver who moved to Las Vegas a couple of months ago from California and didn't know where Henderson was?
No, I think they should pay taxes for another 30 years, and then we can build them some more highways.
Subdivisions spread like cheatgrass overnight around Las Vegas. It's runaway growth. I knew this before, of course, but it wasn't until I saw for myself that I was entirely satisfied. No reason to feel guilty at all.
Some more notes from the trip:
We were in Henderson for the annual convention of the Nevada Press Association. Las Vegas Mayor Oscar Goodman spoke at lunch, and Gov. Kenny Guinn spoke at dinner.
Goodman's past as an attorney for mobsters didn't seem to bother voters, and it doesn't seem to bother his constituents now.
In fact, Goodman comes across as a sincere cheerleader for his goals, including revitalization of downtown Las Vegas, which was his lunchtime topic.
Goodman was still heady from a deal announced a day earlier to bring a "high-tech campus" to 10 acres of former Union Pacific Railroad land just a couple of blocks from Fremont Street. Some of the biggest names in the dot.com domain are players, such as Cisco Systems, AT&T and Worldwide Wireless Networks.
A day later, the Las Vegas newspapers carried a story that several wholesale furniture dealers were preparing to take another 56 acres of the Union Pacific land to create a giant hub for furniture marketers.
In all, there are 200 acres of Sierra Pacific land for which Goodman and the city are playing the part of middleman. The city lines up a deal with a private business, buys the land, then turns it over to the Las Vegas Downtown Redevelopment LLC. The redevelopment consortium then reimburses the city over 30 years at 6 percent interest for the purchase of the land.
The city isn't condemning the land. Goodman made that clear. Willing sellers, willing buyers. Goodman's just helping to set up the deals. I bet he can be pretty persuasive.
Guinn, in his talk to Nevada's journalists, also made a pitch for a vision that will carry the state 10 or 20 years in the future.
He asked the assembled editors and reporters to look up from their desks every once in awhile as they churned out the daily news. Try to see beyond the horizon, he urged. Try not to get lost in petty arguments at the expense of long-term goals, he said.
The previous day, Guinn had said much the same thing as he sat with a panel of legislators who were being grilled by journalists over a number of issues expected to be hot in the 2001 session in Carson City.
As an editor and a senator bickered over the details, Guinn shook his head and tried to get them to agree on what the legislation might eventually accomplish.
Of course, this reminds me of the criticism that followed Guinn around during his campaign for governor. Where are the details? Where do you stand on the issues?
Ironically, standing within reach of Guinn was Jon Ralston, the political reporter whose new book, "The Anointed One," was being circulated about the room.
Ralston's topic is Guinn's campaign for governor, and his thesis is that Guinn was an empty suit filled by the political insiders and deal-makers who control Nevada politics.
I haven't finished the book yet, but Ralston makes a strong case for the "anointed" nature of Guinn's candidacy. Still, I don't think he gives enough credit to Guinn as a thinker and administrator, nor enough credit to Nevada voters.
On the other hand, maybe I'm biased.
A guy in shorts and Hawaiian shirt, earphones from a Walkman wrapped around his head, wandered off the Sunset Station casino floor and into the convention dinner where Guinn was speaking.
He took one look around the room and muttered to nobody in particular, "Well, well. The Nevada Press Association ... in bed with the governor." Then he turned on his heel and headed back for the nickel machines.
(Barry Smith is managing editor of the Nevada Appeal.)