Houstonian Erik Slotboom, by his own description, is a "road geek," a guy who
spent a year of his life writing and self-publishing an exhaustive book on his
hometown's freeway system.
Highways move him, in other words, both literally and figuratively.
So when Slotboom, a software engineer, first heard about Gov. Rick Perry's
4,000-mile dream of tollways criss-crossing Texas, he was open to the idea of
the Trans-Texas Corridor. But then, on his frequent trips on Interstate 45 from
Dallas to Houston, Slotboom noticed something. For most of the way, from
Houston's outskirts to the Dallas suburbs, the traffic was actually pretty
light.
He had a heretical thought: Maybe all or almost all of the state's major routes
really aren't all that crowded. And if so, he wondered, do we really need to
spend $183 billion of state, federal and private money to build a parallel
system of 10-lane highways, railroads and utility lines?
Slotboom's answer, after doing a good deal of research, was no.
And a look at the most recent traffic counts on the state's major arteries would
seem to indicate that, aside from the clogged San Antonio-to-Hillsboro stretch
of Interstate 35, rural Texas roads are far from congested.
On I-35 halfway between Laredo and San Antonio, for instance, 11,620 vehicles a
day were using those four lanes in 2002, about 5 percent of the throng on that
same road where it crosses the Colorado River in Austin.
On Interstate 10 near Columbus, between Houston and San Antonio, the count was
21,820 cars and trucks a day. Near Buffalo, the midpoint between Dallas and
Houston on I-45, the number was 25,530. U.S. 59 near Livingston, 70 miles
northeast of Houston, had 23,000 vehicles a day.
And in West Texas, the numbers drop completely off the table: 8,100 a day on
I-10 near Junction, 7,100 on Interstate 20 near Monahans and 10,190 a day on
U.S. 87/I-27 south of Plainview.
Even by the conservative guidelines of the Texas Department of Transportation,
use on a four-lane rural freeway doesn't reach the "undesirable" range until
daily traffic reaches 31,600 vehicles. Add a fifth and sixth lane, and that
threshold grows to 47,400 vehicles a day.
Despite those numbers, state officials say all the corridors eventually will be
needed, and they won't be built until they are. For now, people like Texas
Transportation Commission Chairman Ric Williamson say they're moving seriously
only on a parallel route to the increasingly crowded I-35 between Dallas and
San Antonio.
Slotboom, looking at trend lines for 30 years of traffic counts on those roads,
says all but I-35 will be fine for decades into the future, some without even
adding lanes. If the state wants to give vehicles a way to avoid urban
bottlenecks on I-35, he says, it could build alternate routes around cities,
such as Texas 130 around Austin, rather than separate highways to skirt cities.
Perry, Williamson and the Texas Department of Transportation, Slotboom says,
want to solve a city problem by building country roads.
"The problem is, really, urban congestion, and to a certain extent Interstate 35
is urbanized," Slotboom said. "The rest of the highways are rural, and there
will never be a need on them for a Trans-Texas Corridor. . . . I'd like to see
them justify it."
Williamson, a close friend of the governor and his de facto spokesman on toll
roads and the Trans-Texas Corridor, agrees that most of those rural highways
won't need a parallel set of toll roads any time soon. He says that's why the
commission is about to pick a highway development consortium this Thursday for
the 600-mile Oklahoma-to-Mexico I-35 corridor alone, Williamson and department
officials say. As for the rest of the 4,000 miles, well, for now those are just
lines on paper waiting for traffic growth to justify them.
"None of those corridors will be built until the exact moment in time when the
market says it's time to move," Williamson said.
Unpopular vision
The corridor plan, since Perry first introduced it in early 2002 as part of his
re-election campaign, has been a slippery subject. Many transportation planners
haven't taken it seriously, looking at the hefty cost — equivalent to 35
years of the current state transportation budget — and presuming the
futuristic plan had no future. Meanwhile, critics such as Slotboom who did take
it seriously, poring over the details and a key 2003 transportation law to
glean the plan's ramifications, have been accused of political motivations and
nitpicking. The plan is a vision, supporters say, not a blueprint.
That vision includes essentially seven 1,200-foot-wide transportation alleys
across Texas, four of them designated as "priority corridors," roughly
paralleling I-35, I-10, I-45 and what will eventually be Interstate 69 from
Brownsville past Houston and north to Texarkana. The other three corridors,
presumably envisioned as coming on line much later, would be an Oklahoma-to-Big
Bend route near I-20 for much of its run, a Texarkana-to-Amarillo route hugging
the Red River, and the ports-to-plains corridor from Brownsville to Del Rio and
then north to the Oklahoma panhandle. The seven corridors would pass near major
cities, but not through them.
As outlined by the governor, each corridor eventually would have six toll lanes
for passenger cars, four toll lanes for trucks, six railroads and a dedicated
corridor for pipelines and electric lines. It's that daunting swath of
right-of-way — a nearly quarter-mile-wide no-cow's-land that would divide
pastures and take a half million acres off rural tax rolls — that has
inspired incredulity and, particularly in rural Texas, opposition.
Last week, the Texas Farm Bureau, on a decisive voice vote at its annual
convention, came out against the plan that its political arm had endorsed in
2002.
'A 50-year plan'
Phillip Russell, director of the Transportation Department's turnpike division,
said that despite all the cutting-edge ornaments — tolls, the unique
long-term "partnership" with a private developer, the marriage of roads, rail
and utilities — the corridors are nothing more than good planning.
"It's a 50-year plan," Russell said. "The department's been criticized for a lot
of things over the years. Planning ahead is usually not one of those things."
He said the Transportation Department will continue to expand four-lane
interstate segments to six lanes as needed, including the sections of I-35
between San Antonio and Dallas yet to be widened. But after that's done, it
will get more difficult to add more capacity, he said. The long-term trends,
combined with demographers' predictions, show that rural traffic counts have
been doubling every 15 to 20 years, Russell said, and even six lanes won't do
the job on I-35. Thus the pending contract for the I-35 corridor.
The winning bidder among the consortia — which include one led by Fluor
Corp., which is building Texas 130, a second headed by Spanish tollway operator
Cintra and a third that includes Hensel Phelps, builder of Austin's new City
Hall — will be guaranteed just $3.5 million of planning work over the
couple of years. Every step of the way after that, as the various pieces of the
I-35 corridor are built over the years, could be subject to all-comers bidding.
But Williamson acknowledged that "all of these proposers presume they will be
doing most of the building."
If the marriage sustains, in other words, the prevailing group could do several
billion dollars of Texas road work over the next decade or two.
The state's assumption, and requirement under the bid, is that the consortium
will bring most of that money to the table, either putting up existing capital
or borrowing it. Toll revenue would then go to the consortium to pay back the
investment.
But the state would also put up a to-be-determined amount of money. That 2003
state law that made the Trans-Texas Corridor possible stipulated that no more
than 20 percent of the state's annual federal highway grants, or about $400
million this year, could be drawn from the state highway fund for the corridor
projects. But that limit does not apply to preliminary engineering, studies, or
operation and maintenance, and there is no limit on how much of the $3 billion
Texas Mobility Fund could go to it. In theory, at least, the corridor project
could scoop up a lot of money that otherwise would have gone to other
transportation improvements.
Slotboom foresees a "financial disaster," one that would require the state to
forgo urban highway expansions and to levy tolls on existing interstates to
make up for the shortfall on the unneeded and underperforming corridor
turnpikes a few miles away. State officials and others say that's unrealistic
doomsday talk. Despite, or perhaps because of the unfortunate experience with
the state's first private toll road, the Camino Colombia turnpike near Laredo
that went bankrupt and was bought by the state, neither private investors nor
the state will plow money into an unneeded corridor project, officials say.
"Those (rural traffic counts) are lower numbers than one would have intuitively
expected, given the planning for the Trans-Texas Corridor," said Robert Poole,
director of transportation studies for the California-based Reason Foundation
and a leading national toll road proponent. "But one of the virtues of funding
things to a significant degree with tolls is that you have to convince Wall
Street that the project makes sense. . . . If a corridor doesn't have the
traffic to justify a significant amount of toll financing, it isn't going to
happen."