Читать книгу RVs & Campers For Dummies - Christopher Hodapp - Страница 27

Between 1926 and 1956, the United States went on a 30-year road-building binge, creating the United States Numbered Highway System (sometimes referred to as Federal Highways or U.S. Routes). By the end of it, the infamous two months it had taken to cross the country fell to just two weeks.

In 1926, to reflect the new, scientific age, it was decided highways would now be numbered, in a grid pattern, and the numbers would tell you something about the road you’re on. Odd numbers were north–south highways; even numbers ran east–west. The lower numbers began in the east and went up as you moved west; a three-digit number was reserved for breakaway spur routes. Most of the two-digit numbers ending in zero ran across the country. Lots of exceptions were made over the years, so you can’t count on it absolutely, but the basic numbering system of U.S. routes is still there, and it still works to give you an idea of the road you’re on.

You’d think people would appreciate all that work. But the American Association of State Highway and Transportation Officials (AASHTO), the agency of state highway engineers who cooked up the system, was flooded with complaints. Newspapers began weighing in, grousing that numbered highways sounded cold and indifferent and didn’t have the charm or easy shorthand of names like the Dixie Highway. Over the years, people clung to calling them by the old names. Highway 80 remained the Dixie Highway, and U.S. 30 was still and forever the Lincoln Highway.

But there was one road from the period that didn’t need a name. It had nicknames like the Mother Road or the Main Street of America, but you didn’t hear them much at the time. It managed to create a mystique with two numbers on a plain black-and-white sign (see the nearby sidebar).