Yes, I often gripe about the 401. It’s the bug in the system that is southern Ontario.

What scares me about the 401 is the contempt people have for the familiar threat of dense traffic rolling at high speeds in all weathers. We’re used to it, and we consider ourselves entitled to go wherever we want and whenever we want, whatever the conditions. Unfortunately, we all believe that we are expert drivers equal to any challenge we might encounter, even (especially?) when we’re tired, sick, angry, hungry, scared, or simply distracted.

Edmund and I drove up and down the entire length of the 401 at Christmas for more than twenty years. The sheer volume of traffic in and around Toronto is just stunning, equalled only on the interstates serving Washington, Philadelphia, Boston and New York City. We were financially comfortable enough to take the toll road (407) that skirts Toronto to the north, but that’s not an option for most truckers, or for daily commuters — avoiding Toronto on my last trip to and from Ottawa cost nearly a hundred bucks in tolls, on top of gasoline at $1.87 a litre.

I guess I’ve just out-lived that sense of invulnerability that makes young people do what they do so casually. Whenever I merge into the stream of hurtling traffic, peering over my left shoulder with one eye and minding the gap in front of me with the other, I feel like a gambler rolling dice that are not loaded in my favour.