Dans Hamptons

When I began working at Dan’s Papers in late September, I unknowingly joined the thousands of Long Islanders subject to Steve Levy’s errant traffic control methods. My first commute from Quogue to Bridgehampton (via the Old Montauk Highway — Rt. 104 — 27 East — CR 39 — Montauk Highway route) took me about 45 minutes from my house to Dan’s, from 9 to 9:50. After a few trips, I thought that I could probably squeeze in a horseback ride between waking and working in the morning, and I decided to leave my house around 7:30 a.m. from then on. I would get to the barn, ride from 8:30 to 9:30, and get to work around 10. It sounded like a simple plan, and the commute wasn’t going to change any time soon. I was also told that if I learned to use the back roads, I might be able to shave ten or fifteen minutes from my trip. But, oh, how wrong I was.

During the month of October, on the first day of my new riding schedule, I left the house around 7:10 a.m., a bit on the early side just to be safe. After inching down Montauk Highway at 7:15, I sat on 27-East, and then CR-39, in bumper-to-bumper traffic, from 7:30 until 9:30 in the morning, blasting as much cheerful country music into my ears as I could to ward off any thoughts of driving down that open stretch of grass in the middle of the highway. I could have made it all the way to New York City in the time it took me to get from Quogue to Bridgehampton that morning. I called my parents, veterans of my horse-showing days when punctuality was key, and they suggested an alternate route. I could just get off of the highway on North Road, drive around the traffic, and merge right onto CR-39. I tried to tell them that the back roads had been closed, but they told me that no one would ever close the back roads — that would be a disaster. The next morning I was late for work, not only because of the traffic, but also because North Road had been blocked by a concrete barrier, forcing me to start all over again. After a few weeks of two-hour commutes, I began searching for apartments to rent in Bridgehampton, closer to work, and abandoned my dreams of riding horses in the morning until I found somewhere to live beyond the bottleneck.

Then, one day in October, the cones came. Anticipation for the cone plan was high at Dan’s Papers — I am not the only one who travels East to get here — and as I saw them being set up, one by one, the day before they were implemented, I began to make a little wish list that included more sleep, more riding — maybe even breakfast. And the next day, it all came true. I left my house in Quogue around 8 a.m., and sped along to work in a record 30 minutes. Thirty minutes! Imagine that. That morning, I went riding, took a trip to Bridgehampton Commons, and even had a bite to eat before coming to work. The day after that, I slept until nine, left my house at 9:25, and got to Bridgehampton at 10:00 a.m. And so it went, through all (three?) of the lovely weeks of cones, I got to work every day on time, and had the option of sleeping until nine, or taking a long, leisurely ride in the sun, topped off by some breakfast at the Candy Kitchen — just what I imagined life on the East End to be when I took the job in the first place.

On November 10th, my dreams were shattered. One by one, they picked up those wonderful cones and plopped me right back into a big, fat traffic jam that has ruined every morning since. This morning, I timed my commute precisely just to make sure that I wasn’t embellishing. Here is what I found.

I left my house in Quogue around 8:50 a.m., I reached 104 by 9, and 27 East by 9:09. I drove at about 60 m.p.h. until 9:16, where I was forced to come to a halt in front of the New York State Department of Transportation Headquarters in Hampton Bays. I cranked my music up, and crawled along between 0 and 10 m.p.h. all the way to the Speed Zone Ahead signs leading up to the merge with CR-39. By 9:29, I had reached the Lobster Inn — progress! By 9:31, I was in front of Southampton Treasures, and got a really good, long look at the Velociraptor sculptures on the front drive. By 9:33, traffic came to a dead stop again, this time underneath a green light at the intersection of Tuckahoe Road and CR-39. Stopped under a green light — oh, the irony. At 9:35, a stack of orange cones on the back of an electrician’s truck combined with the westbound cars whizzing past added insult to injury. I accelerated to a barreling 5 m.p.h. all the way to the Southampton Driving Range, only to stop again. Once I made the turn onto 27 East, I was home free, and drove at a respectable 30 m.p.h. all the way to the Dan’s Papers parking lot, where I parked, at 9:53.

So, there it is. It took me an hour and three minutes to drive the 19.33 miles that MapQuest.com outlines, and my cone-season trips confirmed, should take thirty minutes to traverse from door to door. The Southampton Town budget did not include provisions for year-round cones this year, despite Mr. Schneiderman’s pleading on our behalf, and they will not be back until the high season starts up again. So, for now, all we can do is sit in traffic every morning, blast our music, and try as hard as we possibly can to resist the urge to drive up those wide, open center lawns and shoulder lanes.

Cones Gone