The Most Complicated Interstate Sign EVER.

Josh
Thursday
8:01 am

I have family in Nebraska, so I often travel the stygian road of despair that is I-80 West. It’s a horrible drive — 16 hours of desolate high plains that give way to depressing low plains.

But there’s one thing on I-80 that I always look forward to. (Besides the cleanest, most luxurious restrooms known to man at the Bosselman’s Pump and Pantry on Exit 312 North.)

It’s this sign, right here. Take a look and absorb it — it’s going to be with us for a bit:

You see, interstate signs are all supposed to conform to national standards. In fact, the Manual on Uniform Traffic Control Devices outlines very specifically what can and can’t be a road sign. But they also acknowledge that “regional variance may occur,” which is government speak for, “You can pretty much flip us off, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

But the fact remains that most signs are made to be read as you’re whisking by them at 80 MPH.

Pay attention, Wyoming — I'm looking at you.

That means, unless you’re a Stephen Hawking-caliber genius in a seriously upgraded wheelchair, you need a little time to absorb the small amount of type, and that anything more than a few words and an arrow is probably overkill for your brain and the dangerously high levels of caffeine in it that enable you to make it through Wyoming in the first place.

I digress; let’s return to our sign. I’ll even zoom in on it.

Now, this may look slightly logical. Until you put yourself in the driver’s seat and realize that this whisks by in about 1.5 seconds of processing time. Then it’s gone.

Only after repeatedly driving past this sign a few dozen times did I open my atlas up (perhaps during a respite at Exit 312, perhaps not), and study what the sign must have meant.

First off, this is not a sign. It’s a freaking MAP. Take a look at it. It’s not telling you to exit here or drive there. It’s a giant-ass, complicated MAP. And what does this map tell you? It would appear to say that there’s an Interstate on the left, and you can get off of it onto a business loop, and then maybe go some other places.

And, just to really make your head explode — see that little plus on top? Yeah, it’s not a plus, Tex. It’s a fucking COMPASS ROSE. THE INTERSTATE SIGN HAS A COMPASS ROSE ON IT.

To this day, I really can’t tell why this one sign, out in the middle of high-plains Wyoming, gets to be so damned entitled. I’ve driven through the heart of Chicago repeatedly — a place where a descriptive sign may, in fact be helpful. But what is so important that’s off to the right (wait — south — thanks, compass rose!), besides beautiful Lyman, Wyoming?

So, there it is, folks — I have found the most complicated Interstate sign in all of existence. The gauntlet has been thrown, and I challenge anyone to top it.