A long road from missionaries' route to crowded freeway

By ANNA DAVISON
NEWS-PRESS STAFF WRITER

The knots of cars that meander along Highway 101 are following a historic route traced by Spanish explorers and missionaries in the 1700s.

Back then, "El Camino Real" (the King's Road) linked a chain of presidios and missions throughout the state.

During the 1800s, the stretch between Ventura and Santa Barbara gained quite a reputation as a danger zone -- prone to landslides and washouts and patrolled by bears.

By the turn of the century there was talk of a "Big Road" which would link the coastal communities of the state.

In the early 1900s, El Camino Real was widened and straightened.

In 1928, it became part of the new Highway 101, which stretched from the Mexican border north all the way to Olympia, Wash.

The portion of the 101 that passed through Santa Barbara meandered around downtown.

"I think it came up Milpas, I'm pretty sure it came down Gutierrez, it turned up Rancheria and somehow it got over to De La Vina then it went up to State Street," said Mike Mortenson, an engineer for Caltrans.

	This photo from 1959 shows traffic lights on Highway 101 and State Street. Santa Barbara's traffic lights made it a mecca for hitchhickers and drifters.

In 1948, a four-lane highway opened along the present 101 route, but motorists still couldn't be assured of a smooth ride through town. They'd be brought to a halt by traffic lights at the intersections of Chapala, State, Anacapa and Santa Barbara streets.

In other parts of California, signals were being yanked out, but Santa Barbara's traffic lights stood until the very end.

They were the last on the stretch from Los Angeles to San Francisco, making Santa Barbara a mecca for hitchhikers and drifters. Some wanted to thumb a lift up to Haight Street or down to the Sunset Strip. Others came just to hang out.

"There'd be quite a crowd there in the summer of '67, '68, '69," said Mr. Mortenson. "We were all baby boomers. We were all turning 21 and hitting the open road. ... We probably could have taken the bus, but it was part of growing up."

A good many of those hitchhikers clutched pamphlets, handed out by "Freeway Emma."

"She'd walk the freeway every day giving out Bible tracts," said Hal Conklin, a former city councilman. "She was a fixture there for a long time. She had to have done it for at least a decade."

The towering Morton Bay fig tree at the Chapala Street intersection became a gathering spot.

"At one point, someone put up a mailbox there and collected their mail," Mr. Conklin recalled.

But as hippies, homeless people and travelers were gathering in the shade of the tree, which still stands near the downtown Amtrak station, the state was grappling with plans for a fancy new "crosstown freeway."

In the 1960s, officials floated the idea of an elevated freeway, but that idea "met with severe resistance," Mr. Conklin remembered.

"It would have been a scenic disaster," said former City Councilman Gerry DeWitt.

"We were talking viaducts and really huge structures," Mr. Mortenson added. "That would have really split the town in half."

Later, there was a plan to underground the 101, but state officials balked at the cost.

In the end, Caltrans decided to leave the 101 where it was, but block off the cross streets, build an underpass at State Street, a large interchange at Garden Street and take out the traffic lights.

Construction finally began in 1988.

The State Street undercrossing was completed in 1991 and with the lower part of town now linked to the rest of State Street, "that whole part of town south of the freeway was upgraded," Mr. Mortenson said. "We could debate whether that's a good thing," he added.

"I think it opened up the downtown area," remarked Mr. DeWitt. "It linked the motels down by the wharf with the rest of town."

Mr. Conklin, though, said the wharf area was already being revitalized even before the undercrossing opened.

"I wouldn't say the freeway did it," he said. "But I always felt like there was the Great Wall of China between the beach and the town."

A few months after the undercrossing opened, there was another big do to mark the passing of the last remaining traffic light, which was donated to the Santa Barbara Historical Society.

Once the lights were gone, so too were the gaggles of hitchhikers and homeless people that gathered by the highway.

"In a way it was part of another era," Mr. Mortenson said. "It was time to get moving. Those lights were a nuisance and I was glad they were gone. I certainly don't miss them."

"The lights were an annoyance," agreed Mr. DeWitt. "But I never minded it because it was such a beautiful drive through there. It wasn't like you were stopped in the middle of an L.A. traffic jam."