Quail Ridge Country Club's entrance looks quite auto-oriented, but a surprisingly walkable and bikeable neighborhood lies beyond it. (Photo courtesy of Eric Forti, via Google Maps) |
Last
weekend, I took the train
from DC to Boynton Beach, FL for my annual trip to see my grandparents, who
live there for around five months each year. During my stay in South Florida, I
utilized some interesting transit options, including Brightline, Tri-Rail, and Miami Metromover.
But
I found the area’s most striking exhibit on urban planning in perhaps the least
expected place: Quail Ridge Country Club, the private golf course-condominium complex
my grandparents live in.
As country clubs across the U.S. struggle to attract Millennials, the case of Quail Ridge demonstrates that my city-loving generation is not really that different than its more suburban predecessors.
***
Situated
in the shadows of Mar-a-Lago, Quail Ridge is surrounded by a wall. The wall
consists of chain-link fencing, covered by vegetation.
Boynton
Beach can send anyone it wants right past the club’s wall. My grandma told me
that some of the townsfolk once used a ladder to hop over it, only to put their
efforts to waste by stealing a car.
However,
the wall does keep one thing out: South Florida’s hostile roads.
The
six-lane arterials surrounding Quail Ridge make it clear why Florida is the most
dangerous state in the country to be a pedestrian. Cars and trucks roar past
at highway speeds, bus service is skeletal, sidewalks are spotty, and bike
lanes are virtually nonexistent. Roads are lined with strip malls and other
parking-abundant development.
But within their complex, Quail Ridge’s members enjoy a neighborhood-wide network of dedicated
cycling and pedestrian paths. Vehicles do traverse the club’s quiet streets, but
traffic-calming features limit their speeds. Even in last weekend’s steamy
weather, I saw plenty of residents take advantage of this, enjoying safe,
comfortable walks and bike rides
***
At
first glance, Quail Ridge’s residents enjoy an excellent quality of life. My
grandparents live in a condo that’s part of a multi-family dwelling, comprising
a fairly compact neighborhood. Many life needs – from dining and recreation to
physical therapy – are available in the complex’s clubhouse area, located within
easy walking distance for an able-bodied person.
But
just about everyone who lives at the club owns a car, and has ample space to
store their vehicle right in front of their units. Whenever they venture out of
their complex, they’re just like everyone else, driving up and down those
arterial roads and creating traffic congestion on I-95.
This
has consequences for residents. For example, though the Palm Tran Route 2 bus (which passes just to the east of the club) travels to Downtown West Palm Beach,
my grandma and I drove to catch a Brightline train from there to Miami because the
club’s secluded design forces any bus riders to walk over a mile, largely on
sidewalk-less roads outside its walls. Thus, we endured some
harrowing lane changes to get to the train station, then had to fuss with an
annoying smartphone app to pay for parking once we got there.
And
my grandpa, who has difficulty walking due to Parkinson’s disease, must depend
on people to drive him to the clubhouse because nothing resembling public
transportation is available within the complex. My grandma has a pretty
practical suggestion to help address this – an electric golf-cart service for
handicapped residents – but to my knowledge, no such option is in the works.
***
Like
Quail Ridge’s residents, younger Millennials love to live in dense environments
where they can get to their jobs and activities without having to get in a car.
But
nevertheless, they get
in cars quite frequently, paying ride-hailing companies and their
contracted drivers to provide them transportation. As CityLab's David
Dudley recently wrote,
“For a lot of the young urbanites who would once have been buying [Volkswagen]
Beetles, freedom means riding in the back of someone else’s car.”
In
the short-term, these options can seem trendy and convenient, especially in
cities with aging transit infrastructure. In DC, I’ve been subjected to countless
happy-hour
conversations that start out with people complaining about the Metro system,
then end with those same people deciding to take Uber or Lyft from the event
due to their mutually reinforced certainty that the trains undoubtedly will be
late.
But
over time, these decisions add up, leading to effects on our mobility comparable to those I
saw in Florida. Short-term effects include obstructions like blocked
bike lanes and increased
traffic congestion that make it tougher for everyone to get where they need
to go. Long-term risks include
cuts to transit service, making peoples’ trips slower and more expensive while threatening
the viability of the vibrant, mixed-use neighborhoods that attracted them to
urban life in the first place.
***
The roots
of the problems I saw run much deeper than simple transportation planning, and
won’t be solved by generational change alone. For example, the only people of
color I saw at Quail Ridge worked in the restaurant, transit expansions across
the country frequently must contend
with racially-charged opposition, and people face racial discrimination when
either hailing
a ride from or driving
for Transportation Network Companies (TNCs).
Better
public transportation, however, can help us overcome our differences, facilitating much-needed multicultural interaction.
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