Complete Streets: A Personal Anecdote

I recently had a first-hand experience with the social impacts of a century of automobile-centric street design.

I awoke to a dead car.  Very dead.  Not even a clicking sound when I pressed the Prius’ start button.  Road service started the car with jumper cables and I nursed the car to a repair shop, hoping that the problem was nothing more than a worn-out battery.

The shop owner suggested that I get breakfast while his crew worked.  I looked around in puzzlement, wondering where breakfast was available.  The owner advised me to walk a quarter-mile down an arterial to a McDonalds.  With the alternative being a naugahyde couch and breakfast from a vending machine, I took his advice.  And I’m pleased I did, although more for the insights offered by the walk than for the cuisine at the destination.

For much of the walk, the sidewalk was four feet in width.  Certainly sufficient for one person to walk, but not enough for the walk to be comfortable.  Not with traffic passing by at 35 miles per hour only a few feet away.  (A four-foot bike line didn’t provide much separation, but I probably felt safer than a bicyclist would have.)  And then there were the regularly-spaced utility poles which restricted the sidewalk width to only a couple of feet.

In a few segments, the sidewalk widened to eight feet, the apparent result of new land uses complying with updated city standards.  But the wider sections were only brief respites.  And, with no other pending land use applications and severely restricted city finances, there seems little hope for further widening.  Not that even a consistent eight feet would have made the walk pleasant.

Halfway along my route, a police officer had pulled over a motorist for a traffic violation.  The officer didn’t notice me until I was directly behind his motorcycle.  He glanced up quickly in cautious suspicion, followed by puzzlement.  But I guess my middle-aged appearance wasn’t threatening.  He resumed writing the ticket.

Even when I reached the McDonalds, the bad news for pedestrians wasn’t over.  There was no direct pedestrian route from the sidewalk to the restaurant.  I did what other pedestrians had done, following fresh footprints up a grassy mound, passing through a break in a hedge that had been formed by years of pedestrian use, and crossing the drive-thru lane.  It seemed too much trouble to reach a McDonalds.

After “dining” (to be fair, the sausage burrito exceeded my expectations), I tried to follow a legitimate pedestrian route back to the sidewalk.  There wasn’t one.  There only pedestrian routes from McDonalds to the city sidewalk were across wet grass or in an asphalt lane intended for cars.  And the cars didn’t seem eager to share.

Luckily, the battery was the only fix needed, although the bill was high because the Japanese tsunami had obliterated the primary source of auxiliary batteries for Prii.  (I didn’t see that one coming.)  I was able to resume my day from the comfort of my front seat.  But the lessons of the morning walk lingered.

As an urbanist, I know that sidewalks are often uncomfortable to use.  And I certainly observe inadequate sidewalks on a near-daily basis.  But the reminder of what it’s like to walk on a sidewalk along a busy arterial made that theoretical knowledge more visceral.

I won’t pretend that my walk was at all unusual.  Daily, I see people using sidewalks that are worse.  But my recent reading on the Complete Streets movement re-opened my eyes to the discomfort and social segregation that comes with being a pedestrian in an environment designed for cars.

And it made me think about the people who, because of life circumstances, must walk those sidewalks daily.

In this country, there is a narrative that people who can’t avail themselves of a privilege, such as the privilege of driving a car, are to blame for their situation.  And like most narratives, there is some truth.  Some of the pedestrians we see through our windshields have made poor life decisions.

But that doesn’t explain everyone.   What about those who were born with birth defects?  Or those who are victims of assaults that left them incapable of driving?  Or those who are too young or too old to drive?  Or those who have looked at the impacts of driving and have made the principled decision to leave their car parked for a day and to travel instead by foot?

The image that recurred to me is of 15-year-old boy.  He’s a theoretical young man, but we likely all know youths who are in similar situations.  Perhaps his parents made poor life decisions, leaving them unable to afford a car.  Or perhaps both are working to support the household.  In either case, the young man must walk the same sidewalk I walked.  Perhaps to a tutoring session.  Or maybe to a baseball practice.  And while walking, he’d be subject to the same startled glance from the police officer that I drew.  And perhaps the officer’s suspicions wouldn’t be a quickly assuaged as they were about me.

Is that really how we want to treat that young man?  With the sense that he is somehow less than his fellow youths because he must use a sidewalk?  And with the knowledge that using a sidewalk automatically makes him suspicious in the eyes of a police officer?

The Complete Streets movement is nowhere near a full solution to the social issues of this country.  But by creating streets where more people use the sidewalk, reducing the social segregation, it’s a step in the right direction.

I’ve been silent about the city and the street of which I’m writing.  That has been intentional.  I have no reason to malign a particular town, public works staff, or police department.  They have only been following the design standards and behavioral expectations that prevail across the country.  Besides, a setting such as I describe can probably be found in every North Bay city.  Or at least those that have a McDonalds.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Complete Streets: A Design Anecdote

Although the phrase “Complete Streets” wasn’t used, a few years ago I was involved in a design process that illustrated the balancing act called for under the Complete Streets movement.

I was the civil engineer on the design team for a downtown mixed-use project.  The development had four buildings, including buildings on both sides of a new street segment.  The governing code was quite explicit about the street, giving an exact width for the right-of-way and allocating that right-of-way into travel lanes, parking lanes, and sidewalks.

The design team conformed exactly to the requirements, and also to the requirement that the buildings directly abut the back of the sidewalk.  There was a slight problem when it was discovered that the city design code was inconsistent with the Fire Code regarding fire vehicle access, but we found a solution through some creative head-scratching and a helpful fire marshal.  The project eventually passed all the hoops (which is a story for another time) and was scheduled for public hearing.

A couple of weeks before the hearing, city staff advised us that they were having second thoughts about the street configuration.  A separate city code called for bicycle lanes on all streets having the classification of the new segment.  Staff decided that this code superseded the code under which our design had been completed and that a bike lane was required.

To their credit, they didn’t suggest that we move the buildings back.  The buildings fully occupied their lots, so any adjustment to the front face would have reduced the size of the buildings.  It would have been an ugly meeting and might possibly have ended the project.

Instead, city staff directed that we reduce the sidewalk width to allow enough width for the bike lanes.  The design team and the developer respectfully disagreed, arguing that twelve-foot sidewalks were appropriate for the downtown setting and would allow room for casual chatting, sidewalk cafes, and sidewalk sales.  City staff continued to support bike lanes, but agreed to let the planning commission make the final decision.

Lest anyone think that the design team was anti-bike lane, let me explain the setting further.  The street segment in question was quite short, didn’t have connecting bike lanes at either end, and was controlled by stop signs at both ends.  So bicyclists would have had a short segment of bike lane, before re-merging with the cars.  And the cars would have been moving slowly because of the stop signs.  Given those facts, we felt that the wider sidewalk had greater social value.  (The bike lane option would probably have been less expensive for the developer.)

The planning commission agreed with us.  Before approving the entire project, they unanimously voted for the wider sidewalk over the bike lane.

Nothing here is meant to criticize city staff.  They raised a legitimate point and pushed for it reasonably.  I disagreed with their preference for bike lanes, but reasonable people are allowed to have differing opinions.  And city staff allowed the disagreement to be settled by the planning commission.  Overall, it was a fair and reasonable resolution.

And it was a fine example of the type of balances that a Complete Streets policy would entail.  Good responsible balances, presented with integrity and judged fairly.

Short Notes and Follow-Ups

Party Platforms - I checked the Republican and Democratic Party platforms.  Neither included the word “urbanism” even once.  Nor did related terms such as town planning or transit get much favorable comment.  Our work here is not done.

A few months ago, I wrote about the movie “Urbanized”.  Here is another review of the movie.  A very positive one.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

An Introduction to Complete Streets

Streets underwent an evolution during the 20th century.  It was an evolution that many regret.  And it worked against the goals of urbanism.

When the 20th century dawned and the first few cars were making their appearance, streets were open to all forms of transportation.  It wasn’t always a pretty picture, especially in larger cities, with trolleys, horse-drawn delivery wagons, pedestrians, and the occasional bicycle competing for space.  But it mostly worked with everyone eventually accommodated.

The increasing pervasiveness of the automobile changed that.  Transit and delivery vehicles mostly converted to gasoline engines, but the bicycles and pedestrians were largely displaced.   By the end of the 20th century, it was common to see streets on which pedestrians were walking on undersized sidewalks or unpaved shoulders and bicyclists were sharing travel lanes with vehicles that outweighed them fifty-fold.

It wasn’t a grand conspiracy on behalf of cars, but a series of incremental decisions.  First by people who thought that cars were a superior transportation option that deserved preferential treatment.  And later by people who had been raised in a car culture and were unable to think of any other way the world might be.  Nonetheless, it resulted in a world in which bicyclists and pedestrians were treated as less important than car passengers.

Even bus riders were inconvenienced as their travel speeds were reduced by growing traffic congestion.

As the reality of modern streets became clear, people began pushing back.  Some advocated for bike lanes.  Others argued for more and better sidewalks.  Still more proposed improved handling of transit.

And then some decided that all of these goals were worthy.  They launched the Complete Streets movement.  They argued that all cities should adopt Complete Streets policies to balance transportation options.  From the website completestreets.org, this is their statement:

Instituting a Complete Streets policy ensures that transportation planners and engineers consistently design and operate the entire roadway with all users in mind - including bicyclists, public transportation vehicles and riders, and pedestrians of all ages and abilities.

A key aspect of the Complete Streets movement is the acknowledgment that every street is unique, in its setting, its configuration, and its users.  From the completestreets.org FAQ:

There is no singular design prescription for Complete Streets; each one is unique and responds to its community context. A complete street may include: sidewalks, bike lanes (or wide paved shoulders), special bus lanes, comfortable and accessible public transportation stops, frequent and safe crossing opportunities, median islands, accessible pedestrian signals, curb extensions, narrower travel lanes, roundabouts, and more.

The lack of a singular template may be disconcerting to some cities, but it allows for the design creativity to find the best solutions.

In the North Bay, Complete Streets policies have been adopted by Marin County and by the cities of Novato, San Anselmo, and Fairfax.  Other cities are undoubtedly sympathetic to the Complete Street goals, but an adoption of a Complete Streets policy would give a better basis for design decisions.

If you know of other North Bay municipalities considering a Complete Streets policy, let me know.  I may need to testify in support.

Now that complete streets are part of our urbanism conversation, I’ll refer more frequently to street design issues.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)