The Best and Worst Cities to Drive In—Through the Eyes of a Detroit Driver

Let’s be honest right off the bat: there are no great cities to drive in. None. Even in video games, where you can ramp your car off a bridge and magically respawn, traffic still finds a way to ruin your day. But some cities, it turns out, are less bad than others—and that’s enough for WalletHub to publish its annual ranking of the best and worst cities for drivers in America.

This year’s list looked at 100 U.S. cities and measured 30 factors, including traffic congestion, accident rates, weather, gas prices, parking costs, and vehicle maintenance expenses. That’s a lot of math just to confirm what anyone who’s sat on the Lodge Freeway at 4:30 on a Friday already knows: driving in Detroit is an Olympic-level exercise in patience, timing, and creative language.

The 10 best cities for drivers in 2025 are led by—you guessed it—Texas. Apparently, the Lone Star State has cracked the code to stress-free driving. Corpus Christi came in at #1, followed by Greensboro, North Carolina, and Boise, Idaho. Then, in what can only be described as a Texas takeover, Laredo, Lubbock, Plano, and Austin all made the top 10.

Maybe it’s the flat land. Maybe it’s the wide roads. Or maybe Texans just don’t mind spending a few extra minutes behind the wheel because they can still find gas under $3 a gallon. Whatever it is, they’re doing something right.

Even Birmingham, Alabama, and Scottsdale, Arizona, cracked the list—cities where the average commute might include palm trees or sunshine instead of dodging orange barrels and winter potholes large enough to swallow a Fiat.

Let’s not sugarcoat it: Detroit landed in the bottom ten. Right there between San Francisco and Los Angeles, we proudly clocked in among the nation’s worst driving cities. Only Philadelphia, Oakland, Washington D.C., New York, Chicago, and San Francisco managed to edge us out for the honor of being slightly more infuriating to drive through.

Now, anyone who’s spent time on I-94 during construction season—also known as every season—won’t be surprised. There are stretches of that freeway where it feels like you’ve entered an endless time loop: same cones, same delays, same guy in a minivan eating a sandwich and glaring at his GPS like it betrayed him.

The Lodge on a Friday night? That’s a social experiment in frustration. You start with optimism: “It’s only a few miles—I’ll be fine.” Fifteen minutes later, you’re questioning every life choice that led you to this point as you crawl past a crash, two lane closures, and someone who apparently forgot how to merge sometime in 2009.

And don’t even bring up Jefferson Avenue after a Tigers game or trying to navigate Woodward during Dream Cruise weekend. Detroit’s driving culture isn’t just about getting from A to B—it’s about surviving from A to B with your sanity intact.

Part of what makes Detroit driving unique is that it’s deeply personal. This city invented the modern automobile, and we still treat driving as a badge of identity. You can’t live here and not have an opinion about cars—or traffic. We gripe about road conditions the way some cities talk about weather forecasts: constantly and with great passion.

When out-of-towners complain about Michigan left turns, we smile like we’re in on a joke they’ll never quite understand. Sure, it’s weird the first few times, but once you’ve pulled a perfect U-turn and cruised into your destination without waiting three lights, you feel like you’ve unlocked a Detroit superpower.

The truth is, Detroiters don’t just drive—we navigate chaos. We’ve learned to time traffic lights like jazz musicians sync to a beat. We know which freeway entrance ramps are cursed and which side streets can shave ten minutes off your commute. And when a blizzard hits, we don’t panic—we downshift, lean forward, and hope the guy behind us has decent tires.

The study gives points for affordability, road quality, safety, and congestion—but it misses something intangible: attitude. Driving in Detroit may be rough, but it’s also character-building. Every lane closure is a reminder of resilience. Every pothole is a test of suspension—and patience.

If you’ve ever dodged a mattress on I-75 or hit a speed bump that felt like a skateboard ramp, you’ve earned your stripes. And when you finally roll up to your destination, park six inches from the curb, and shut off the engine without a check-engine light flashing—you’ve achieved something few outsiders can truly appreciate.

So yes, maybe we rank low in comfort and convenience. But we rank high in toughness, adaptability, and creative problem-solving. Because in Detroit, the car isn’t just transportation—it’s heritage.

While the study’s top-ranked cities enjoy smoother commutes and lower repair bills, many of them lack the soul that comes with driving through a city that built the industry. When you’re rolling past the old Packard plant or taking a shortcut through Corktown, you’re not just in traffic—you’re in history.

Every driver here has a story. The time their car got stuck on I-96 during a blizzard. The day they made every light down Woodward and felt invincible. The first summer they drove with the windows down, CSX on the radio, and the skyline glowing in the distance.

Driving in Detroit isn’t easy. But it’s ours. And that’s something no ranking can measure.

So go ahead—give the gold medal to Corpus Christi. Let Greensboro celebrate its smooth commutes. We’ll take our cracked roads, our confusing interchanges, and our collective sense of humor about it all.

Because deep down, we know the truth: Detroiters don’t need to top any list. We just need our cars, our grit, and a good soundtrack to get us through the next traffic jam.

After all, if you can survive rush hour on the Lodge, you can drive anywhere.