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For example, there are plenty of streets here in Waco where the sidewalks disappear suddenly, shoving pedestrians into the street alongside traffic. In many American cities, walkable infrastructure is unsafe, incomplete, or unimaginative. Walking most North American cities sucks because they make us feel vulnerable and awkward. If you’ve ever tried to walk your city and decided to never do it again because of how odd and out of place you felt, I sympathize.
Unwalkable community design full#
Sure, there’s a sidewalk, but does anyone actually belong on a sidewalk next to a busy road full of speeding cars? Yes, there’s a cross-walk here, but with four lanes of traffic gunning for the intersection, do pedestrians really belong? Technically, this sidewalk can carry me to my destination, but with no trees or shops, with no other pedestrians, with all of the signs designed to be seen by drivers, not walkers, and with the need to constantly negotiate with cars moving in and out of busy driveways, the sidewalk feels more like an afterthought than an actual means of mobility. But no matter how confident I feel about my skills as an urban walker, the design of most streets tells me that I’m out of place.
Unwalkable community design Bluetooth#
There I go, little urban me, sporting sunglasses and Bluetooth earphones, carrying all my bags and jaywalking like a pro. When I walk around Waco, I feel overexposed, vulnerable, and a little silly. Walking your city sucks because everything is too far apart and it would be a waste of time. This is common in most North American cities thanks to a combination of federal housing policy, single-use zoning, the influence of the automobile lobby, and an overreaction to industrialism. Consequently, the places I frequent the most are too far apart from where I live and too far apart from each other. Homes and common businesses (cafés, laundromats, post offices, libraries, etc.) do not exist close together. The reality is, as much as I adore walking, it makes zero sense for me to “walk my life.” Like most American cities built after the 1900s, Waco has been designed in a sprawled-out fashion, with buildings separated by type. Yet while many of us would agree that walkability makes sense for countless reasons, few of us actually walk the cities where we live. I walk here too and try to encourage my friends to do the same. I’m now living temporarily in a small Texas city. Other walks ended with new discoveries and a full heart.
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Some walks left me heavy-hearted and disappointed. Others were so delightfully designed at human scale that I could have wept. Some were dangerous, forcing me onto unsafe infrastructure or pitting me against aggressive drivers. Without the comfort, protection, and ease of the automobile, I’ve experienced these places more authentically. With every walk, I’ve discovered new layers, textures, and details to the city. I’ve walked through ghettos, homeless encampments, busy intersections, and luxurious, mansion-lined residential streets. I’ve walked exciting historic corridors and empty suburban wastelands. I’ve walked the streets of Paris and Rome, the streets of forgotten small towns in the American South. As a traveling journalist, I have walked dozens of cities.
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