Saturday, March 9, 2019

Inside a Florida country club’s walls, I saw a reflection of the challenges facing my own generation

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.    

No comments:

Post a Comment