Rexford Bridge: The Jewel of the Capital District
By Cecily Bapp
Published October 2nd, 2016
REXFORD — Straddling the majestic Mohawk sits the Rexford Bridge, a modern miracle of inscrutable traffic congestion.
Early each weekday morn, whilst the dew is still settled ov’r the Capital District, vehicles assemble in this sparsely populated area to ‘park’ for a spell, share a cup-a-Joe with a stranger — (Dunkin’ Donuts is conveniently located mid traffic snarl) — or take a moment or two or 500 to apply make-up, catch up on emails, or to simply burn a gallon of gas on a brisk September morn.
Friendships have been made, several romances have been kindled, and at least one book has been written, all while sitting in traffic waiting to cross the Rexford Bridge. Now, with the addition of construction just in time for the start of school — and a new traffic circle — well, the fun has grown exponentially.
“What the fuck could possibly be going on up there?” fumed Arthur Waxstone of Saratoga Springs. “I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes and there has been, literally, no progress at all. What is it? Did someone jump off the bridge and end it all?”
Although built with the intention of alleviating traffic, the magical roundabout has actually added to an already congested little pocket of traffic at the intersection of a teeny, tiny stretch of road between Saratoga County and the promised land of Niskayuna and Schenectady. The problem: Capital Region drivers don’t trust roundabouts, and are reluctant to enter them.
“Kind of like a kid who can’t figure out how to jump into a game of double Dutch,” explained Schenectady County Legislator Christopher Malamute. “No matter how wide the road or how large the signs, they won’t budge. They just sit there, waiting for a green light to suddenly appear.”
An on-site educational program is planned in an effort to urge Capital Region residents to “Jump In.” And, there’s been an unexpected outcome to the bottleneck: a makeshift tent city has sprung up nearby the banks of the mighty Mohawk — the residents of which consist of folks just waiting to cross.
“They’d move on if the logjam would break up, and someone would just enter the damn traffic circle. But nooooo, they just sit in their damn cars every day, then go back to their tents and harmonicas at sundown,” Bill Worstershire, one of a dozen remaining Rexford residents , said stoically. “But I hope they settle here. These here are good people. Deranged, but pleasant. Welcome to Rexford, one and all!”