Both roundabouts contain a forest of signs (no less than 30 at the Airport Road roundabout; no less than 26 at the Tyler Parkway roundabout) and a sea of pavement markings.
Are we really so dim-witted that we can’t get in and out of these things without so much signage? I believe we can negotiate these roundabouts just fine without arrows upon arrows, circles and double circles and directional stripes leading directly into (check it out) curbs.
Among the signs and stripes, there are, however, some curiosities. Take, for example, the small blue and white knife sign in the northbound Airport Road roundabout. Doesn't this sign tell me I can get something to eat nearby? Where’s the restaurant? I’ve concluded that this sign must be for the Payson Elementary School cafeteria where guests are welcome for breakfast and lunch.
Then there is the elevation of modest little Airline Road to Airline Boulevard. Airline Boulevard? Boulevard brings images to mind of the Champs Elysees in Paris, not Airline Road, with all due respect to its residents.
In the same vein, when did the entrance to Home Depot become West Tyler Parkway? Does the Home Depot parking lot go somewhere I don’t know about?
Perhaps the most curious of all is the bottleneck engineered into the southbound approach to the Tyler Parkway roundabout. Formerly a two-lane approach, there is now a huge, ugly, black-topped, raised median that forces the two lanes of traffic into one.
I’d better be sure I have all my groceries on hand and no plans to leave home on busy summer weekends. Making a left turn from Houston Mesa Road onto the southbound Beeline is tricky at best. During the summer it could be downright impossible.
Ah, the roundabouts.