A two-block bike lane brought out the best – and worst – of neighborhood-level politics

DDOT has proposed contraflow bike lanes for both blocks of Woodley Place, which parallels Connecticut Avenue in Northwest DC. (Photo by me)

To read my planned public comments on the proposed Woodley Place bike lane, click here. I’d planned to present these comments to DC’s Advisory Neighborhood Commission 3C at the March 18, 2019 meeting but was unable to do so due to time constraints, as described below.

 

It might be the simplest transportation project in American history.

Currently, there’s no safe or comfortable way to bike from DC’s Cleveland Park (where I live) and other parts of Upper Northwest to or from Adams Morgan, the U Street corridor, and central parts of the city. As a result, a lot of cyclists ride on busy streets, such as Connecticut Avenue, or on sidewalks, creating dangerous conflicts with drivers and pedestrians. 

Fortunately, calmer Woodley Place parallels Connecticut through the Woodley Park neighborhood. The two-block street carries few cars, because one block allows only northbound travel and the other only southbound travel. Though cyclists also can’t legally travel the length of Woodley Place, plenty of us – including myself – regularly choose the route over its legal, but more dangerous alternatives. 

The District Department of Transportation (DDOT) has proposed an obvious alignment of law and safety: contraflow bike lanes on both blocks of Woodley Place that will allow cyclists to proceed through. Because the road’s existing travel lane is unusually wide, DDOT will just convert that lane into one of normal width, allow contraflow cyclists to use the excess street space, and preserve all the existing capacity parkers and drivers enjoy. In fact, due to a quirk of the street’s design, there will actually be more space for people to park their cars once the project is complete.

But though the bike lane project might be straightforward and logical, politics – and the human interaction it entails – never are.

A cyclist on Connecticut Ave pedals past the Cleveland Park Library, where Monday's Advisory Neighborhood Commission 3C meeting took place. (Photo courtesy of Gilbane Building Company).

The March 18, 2019 Advisory Neighborhood Commission (ANC) 3C meeting, which featured discussion of the proposed Woodley Place bike lane, ended in a successful draw but was a mobility-vs-NIMBY showdown to remember. (The second link includes video of the meeting’s bike lane discussion).

DC has 40 different ANCs, covering the entire city. Each consists of commissioners who serve two-year terms, are chosen in the general November elections, and represent around 2,000 residents.

ANCs don’t have any hard power. But their resolutions, which advise and provide recommendations to city agencies, can have substantial influence. For example, a group of ANCs along the 14^th Street Corridor worked together to help start WMATA’s limited-stop Route 59 bus. And some of DC’s most influential politicians, including Mayor Muriel Bowser and Councilmember Jack Evans (who also chairs the WMATA board), got their starts as ANC commissioners.

So last Monday night, the DC transportation world’s eyes were on the Cleveland Park Library. I rode a Capital Bikeshare bike from my downtown office, up Woodley Place, and into the docks right outside the library. Electricity was in the air as attendees streamed into the meeting room.

Proponents of the bike lane comprised the majority of the standing-room-only crowd, but like fans at a title fight they had to wait a while for the meeting’s main event. As the nine 3C commissioners worked through the agenda, which included a monthly crime report from a Metropolitan Police Department lieutenant (apparently, MPD recently stepped up its presence in our neighborhood due to a series of car break-ins) and discussion on a planned apartment complex redevelopment, anticipation built.

Then, the moment arrived. Officials from DDOT kicked off the bike lane discussion with a presentation on the city’s proposal. After the presentation concluded, it was time for public comments.

Supporters of the Woodley Place bike lane line up to speak at Monday's Advisory Neighborhood Commission 3C meeting. Opponents of the lane formed a separate line, which was not long enough to be visible in this photo. (Photo by me) 

ANC 3C Chairperson Nancy MacWood’s format for the meeting’s public comment portion made me wonder if she’d manufactured the participation trophy I received for playing outfield on Davis, CA Little League’s one-win Zephyr in 2001.

Though the vast majority of meeting attendees wore stickers supporting the bike lane proposal, MacWood declared that one of every two comments must oppose the lane. After listening to the first few speakers, MacWood ordered attendees for and against the bike lane to form two separate lines and exchange the mic. The line of proponents extended the length of the center aisle and wrapped around the back of the room. Four or five opponents rose to face them.

Things heated up. When an opponent complained that the Woodley Place project may set precedent for DDOT to further expand the area’s bike lane network, supporters erupted in cheers, excited about this prospect. When a proponent speculated that some Woodley Place residents don’t want bike lanes primarily because parking illegally on the street will become more challenging, opponents in the crowd fumed and seemed ready to physically fight him.

Then, as I stood second in line, and with a couple dozen more bike lane supporters waiting behind me, MacWood abruptly closed comments, citing time constraints. Almost on cue, loudspeaker announcements warned attendees that the library would be closing at 9pm. With the clock winding down, it was time for ANC 3C to consider the issue at hand.

Lee Brian Reba, who represents the district that Woodley Place lies in (3C01), introduced a resolution calling for the bike lane’s paralysis-by-analysis. Reba had collaborated with Woodley Place residents – minus the 140 people who live at the Calvert Woodley Apartments – to craft his resolution. Jimmy Dubois, hailing from 3C03, then seconded Reba’s resolution but introduced an amendment – one that would strike all of Reba’s text and replace it with wording supporting the lane. Beau Finley, who represents 3C04 (my district), quickly seconded Dubois’s amendment.

Then, right before the vote, came the bombshell that would dominate conversation during the post-meeting celebration at local watering hole Nanny O’Briens: Commissioner Angela Bradbery recused herself due to a financial conflict of interest. Bradbery’s partner tutors a student who lives on Woodley Place and the student’s anti-bike lane parents had made a point of asking who Bradbery, a swing vote, would side with.

With Bradbery sidelined, it was up to the remaining eight commissioners to determine who would win the night. First up was Dubois’s pro-bike amendment: a 4-4 tie, short of the majority required to pass. Then, Reba’s original anti-bike resolution also drew 4-4.

But as in a group-stage soccer match, a draw is never actually a draw. And on this night, the goal differential was in our favor. Because ANC 3C couldn’t comment on the bike lane, DDOT can proceed with its proposed fix for Woodley Place without interruption.

Minutes later, the taps across the street at Nanny’s were flowing. As cycling advocates and pro-bike lane ANC commissioners enjoyed themselves and started planning for the next battle, a blank-faced Reba sulked at a nearby table with 3C08 Commissioner and fellow project opponent Maureen Boucher, munching on a quesadilla. 

  

A plane sprays mosquitoes in Davis, CA in August 2006, due to concerns about West Nile Virus. The previous year, protesters opposing insect spraying took over a City Council meeting. (Photo courtesy of Davis Wiki)

Last Monday’s ANC 3C meeting brought back memories from my youth of the legendary 2005 Davis City Council.

Led by icons including Ruth Uy Asmundson and Sue Greenwald, the city held a series of epic public hearings in June (at which everyone wishing to comment was able to) on Covell Village, a proposed mixed-use development project that would later fall short at the ballot box. Two months later, meeting attendees hijacked a Q&A session on West Nile Virus mosquito spraying, running Mayor Asmundson and a panel of experts she’d convened out of the community’s chambers. The protesters helped spare that year’s mosquitoes, but after four more Yolo County residents caught the virus the next summer, pesticide-spraying planes would roar over the town.

Those memories reinforced the fact that no matter how much work we do to craft the perfect transportation solution, civil engagement like Monday night’s determines the fate of many important projects. Transportation progress will always require navigating the absurdity of politics, from neighborhood commissions up to @realDonaldTrump.

          

Sure, special interests do everything they can to buy people off and otherwise manipulate the political process.

But in the end, pure will can win the day.

Is technology causing us to overthink and make bad transportation decisions?

Escalators at DC Metro's Dupont Circle Station. (Photo courtesy of Geoff Livingston)

On Saturday night, I attended DC United’s 5-0 win over Real Salt Lake, a match that featured Wayne Rooney’s first MLS hat trick. After a postgame dinner at Bluejacket Brewery, in the shadows of Chao’s Castle, I headed home to catch the second half of an important Liga MX match between Tijuana’s Xolos and Northern Mexican rivals Monterrey.

The trip from Navy Yard to Cleveland Park – Green Line to Red Line – is normally pretty simple, and I timed the Chinatown transfer between the two Metro routes pretty well.

But at Dupont Circle, after the train had sat still for slightly longer than normal, the operator came on and announced bad, but unsurprising news for weekend WMATA riders: we had to wait for other trains to clear a segment of the line between there and Van Ness (three stops to the north), because one of the two tracks was closed for maintenance.

I quickly opened my phone’s MetroHero app, which provides live locations for all of WMATA’s trains, and assessed the situation. The app painted a disheartening picture: a train traveling in our direction was still four minutes from clearing the single-tracking area. Another train, heading in the opposite direction, was waiting at Van Ness, and would presumably need to proceed through the construction zone’s entirety – another six minutes – before we could go anywhere. Factoring in the extra time it takes for trains to switch tracks and the other familiar glitches of weekend maintenance, I figured it would be a 12-15 minute delay before our train pulled out of Dupont.

***

Normally, I would have just waited out the delay, but I wanted to get home to see as much of the Xolos game as possible. So, I opened up the Capital Bikeshare app and saw that a CaBi Plus e-bike was available at a nearby dock. I figured by acting quickly, I could get to the e-bike before someone else took it and, with the pedal-assist motor assisting my uphill ride, beat the train back to my neighborhood. And even if the e-bike was gone by the time I got to the dock, I figured the train would still be waiting for the tracks ahead to clear, giving me time to return to the station and re-board.

So without hesitation, I exited the train and started heading out of the station.

But as I ascended the short escalator up to the mezzanine level, I heard an unexpected sound behind me: a “doors closing” chime. Before I could process what was happening, the train I’d just gotten off of was leaving the station without me, bound for the single-tracking area following only a minimal delay.

As I’d watched the situation develop on MetroHero earlier, this is what I’d hoped would happen, since the aforementioned train that had entered the single-tracking area was only a few minutes ahead of ours. But the train operator’s misleading delay announcement had dashed those hopes, triggering my quick – but, in the end, erroneous – action.

Nevertheless, I rolled with the punches. With the next train 14 minutes (plus a potential single-tracking delay) away, the CaBi Plus e-bike now clearly seemed my best bet. So I ran up the station’s long escalator, hurried to the dock, and rented the e-bike.

But on this night, technical problems with the bikeshare system's infrastructure led to a much longer delay than I would have experienced had I just remained on the train. When I reached Cleveland Park, neither of the bikeshare station’s empty docks were working properly, so I had to backtrack to the National Zoo – around a third of a mile – to find a functional dock to leave my bike in.

***

By this point, I was infuriated at my earlier inept decision-making. My thoughts rolled through the obvious culprits – our region’s general neglect of weekend transit service and Lyft-owned Motivate’s inability to fix the broken Cleveland Park bikeshare docks (which have been an issue for weeks now).

As I walked home, I considered how WMATA’s limited night and weekend service, though intended to allow for maintenance that’s supposed to make the Metro system safer and more reliable, has actually hurt reliability at off-peak hours and caused people to turn to less safe forms of mobility. I reflected on how transportation providers from airlines and Amtrak to local transit agencies struggle so mightily to communicate effectively with their riders. And, given that even a flawless bike ride would not have been that much faster (if even faster at all) than a Metro train subjected to a delay of the duration I’d originally expected, I fumed at the possibility that DC’s incessantly negative transportation culture may have rubbed off on me enough to coerce me into so quickly and stupidly giving up on the train.

But in the end, my focus settled on the technology that, in tandem with the train operator’s misleading announcement, provided the evidence I’d used to make my mistaken decision.

MetroHero and the CaBi app both worked perfectly, showing me where all the trains were, whether or not they were being delayed, and whether or not the nearby bikeshare stations had e-bikes available. But the apps were unable to account for the human aspects of our transportation system, like WMATA’s dispatching decisions and Cleveland Park’s broken bike docks.

At face value, smartphone apps have probably reduced the amount of time we spend waiting at transit stops and stations. For example, apps like MetroHero, Transit, and DC Metro and Bus show us when our bus or train will actually get there and display optimal routes for trips with complex connections. And New York’s MyTransit NYC app makes it possible to decipher the normally incomprehensible list of construction projects that regularly disrupt night and weekend service on that city’s subway.

But these apps also may lead us to overthink and try too hard to “beat the system,” when it reality it’s probably best to just stick with the most logical route. For example, whenever I am on a transit trip that involves a transfer, I habitually check my phone to see how I’ll time it. If it’s going to be tight, I find myself fretting every time my vehicle deviates from its normal speed – even if a missed connection won’t mean a long wait.  (And of course, some of those unexpected slowdowns are caused by increased traffic congestion attributable to ride-hailing, which wouldn’t exist without smartphone technology.)

This contrasts with my experience in Seoul, where I navigated transit without a smartphone or any other personal aid providing real-time info. Subway routes were frequent and rider-friendly, and because bus stop signage listed every stop on every available route, even when in an unfamiliar part of town I could quickly figure out how to get to a subway station or other well-known hub, making mobility easy.

Though I may not have always used the fastest possible transit option, I got around Seoul without stress, and over time learned which routes served my needs best. This feeling of transportation independence, which a recent trip to Mexico City rekindled, is not something technology alone can deliver. But it’s something that could help address recent study findings that show transit can be unnecessarily stressful, relative to other options.  

***

In the end, my bizarre sequence of decisions on Saturday night may have worked out for the best. I got home in the 60^th minute of the Xolos match and soon after I turned it on, Tijuana striker Miller Bolaños tapped in an excellent cross from Gustavo Bou to give his team a 1-0 lead. Despite sustained pressure from previously-unbeaten Monterrey, Xolos held on for the win, a major boost for their playoff hopes.

The next morning, I headed down to meet a friend at Georgetown’s Ri Ra for St. Patrick’s Day brunch, and once again chose Capital Bikeshare – this time, because it seemed the most logical option, straight up. I rented a standard bike in Cleveland Park, but as I pedaled past the zoo, I noticed an e-bike – presumably the same one I’d ridden from Dupont Circle the previous night – still sitting in the dock.

So, I docked the standard bike, unlocked the e-bike, and, as I traveled through Rock Creek Park’s southern portion, enjoyed an extra boost that likely wouldn’t have been available to me had I stayed on the train the previous night.

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.    

I stand with Dong Dang's transit riders

North Korean leader Kim Jong-un gets off his train in Dong Dang, Vietnam on Tuesday. In preparation for his arrival, authorities had closed the station to the public since the previous day. (Photo courtesy of The National)

Dong Dang, Vietnam has an elegant rail station that puts America’s Amshacks to shame. Like so many transit hubs around the world, the small-town station near the Chinese border provides essential connectivity to the region it serves. Daily intercity trains travel to and from Hanoi, taking about four-and-a-half hours to complete the trip, and overnight trains to China also pass through.

But during the early part of this week, the station was closed to passengers. The reason: a guy from up north was approaching on a slow southbound train, headed down to Hanoi to meet a guy who hates trains regardless of their speed of travel.

Yep, Kim Jong-un chose rail as his transportation mode for travel to his summit with Donald Trump. Chinese analysts predicted Kim’s trip would cause major disruption to their country’s train network, even affecting its extensive high speed rail system. The Korean State Railway’s Pyongui (Pyongyang-Sinuiju) line was also undoubtedly crippled. If the Supreme Leader hopes to persuade the admins of the New Urbanist Memes for Transit-Oriented Teens Facebook group to allow posts that mention his country, these delays didn’t help his cause.

But Dong Dang experienced the greatest injustice. Kim treated the town as his personal Bakersfield, terminating his armored train there and transferring to a road-based option (in this case, a limo) to continue on to Vietnam’s capital. To accommodate his paranoia, officials shut down the station a day before his Tuesday morning arrival. 

    

The New York Times and other media outlets incorrectly reported that Kim couldn’t proceed to Hanoi by rail because a break of gauge prevented his train from operating on Vietnam’s tracks. While it’s true that China (like North Korea) has standard (4 ft. 8.5 in.) gauge tracks and Vietnam has narrower meter-gauge tracks, the Hanoi-Dong Dang line’s dual-gauge design allows it to carry trains built for either country’s track geometry, facilitating relatively seamless international mobility.

Thus, it’s not clear why Kim’s train had to offload in Dong Dang. But because it did, any stranded regional rail riders hoping to take the bus to Hanoi were also out of luck, as the road to the capital closed for eight hours to accommodate the leader’s motorcade.

Dong Dang's rail station on a better day. (Photo courtesy of Yhxc57082, via Wikipedia)

I’ve dealt with WMATA weekend track work, fumed aboard buses stuck in car congestion, and sat on Amtrak trains slowed by freight. I’ve even experienced politician-related transit disruptions, as Trump and Vice President Mike Pence occasionally give speeches at DC’s National Building Museum during which the Secret Service obstructs access to Metro’s Judiciary Square Station.

But I’ve never had to tolerate a service suspension caused by a totalitarian dictator.

So, as the world watches this week’s events in Hanoi, my thoughts are fixated on the transit riders of Dong Dang. Tonight, I feel their pain.

In the wake of an ambitious ballot measure’s defeat, better mobility can help Nashville find its identity

Nashville's Union Station hasn't seen any passenger rail service since 1979. (Photo by me)

On May 1, 2018, the people of Nashville, TN decided the transportation options I prefer weren’t for them. Yes, propaganda from Koch-funded groups like Americans for Prosperity may have influenced some perspectives, and ex-Mayor Megan Barry’s demise certainly didn’t boost the cause. But in the end, it was the region’s residents who took time out of their day to head to the polls and send a message that I interpreted as a powerful rejection of my way of life.

However, I ignored that message, traveling to the Music City for a weekend trip earlier this month.

My Southwest Airlines plane flew over a lot of large parking lots during its descent into Nashville International Airport. (Photo by me) 

As my flight from DC descended into town, providing panoramic views of strip malls and parking lots as it outran the Green New Deal’s End of Air Travel, my expectations were low. Though I was excited to see my relatives who I was to meet there, I figured I was in for yet another car-based family trip. I was also still mad that the city had been granted an MLS expansion franchise at the expense of Sacramento Republic FC, which won the United Soccer League title in its debut season.

And as for the city’s music, my prior exposure to the country genre was mostly limited to the modern-day ballads that worship guns, pickup trucks, Bud Light, and women in tight jeans.

Thanks to my previous transportation experiences in the South, which include a three-hour Amtrak delay in Anniston, AL and a lot of long walks across the cavernous transit gaps of Charleston, SC, I was not surprised when, upon landing just before 10pm, I learned the next Route 18 bus from the airport to the city center would not arrive for another 50 minutes.

Nashville International Airport's bus stop. (Photo by me)

The bus arrived 12 minutes behind schedule and traveled via an interstate to Music City Central Station, a short walk from the hotel bar where my father, cousin, and her fiancé awaited. After a shot of whiskey at the bar, it was time to go explore the city that had broken so many urbanist American hearts.

Over the next three days, I would learn that the ill-fated transit referendum was just one small piece of a sophisticated city’s effort to reclaim its identity.

   

Ride-hailing vehicles and taxis congest Nashville's Lower Broadway. (Photo by me)

We got our first glimpse of the opposing forces straining Nashville that first night on Lower Broadway, a nightlife corridor with ride hailing-created congestion that dwarfs even DC’s notorious U Street or Connecticut Avenue.

Our first stop – Robert’s Western World – showed off the best of Nashville’s vibrant culture, as a crowd of people from all walks of life chatted, drank, and danced to an eclectic, high-quality array of live music. But our second destination – Honky Tonk Central – aimed solely to be trendy. It’s possible that we just caught it on a bad night, but during the one beer we endured there, a homogenous crowd of twenty-somethings robotically moved to off-key renditions of formulaic songs whose titles begin with “Sweet.”

A rendering of a proposed development project in Nashville. (Photo by me)

The morning light the next day revealed the full scope of the city’s identity crisis.

Though the defeated transit expansion plan had strong upsides, some questioned its emphasis on city-center economic development. But even without transportation infrastructure improvements to support them, the economic development projects seem to be proceeding unabated. Brand-new apartment and condo towers surround the downtown area and countless more city blocks sit razed, presumably awaiting similar construction.

A sign notifies the public of an upcoming hearing on parking requirements. (Photo by me)

These new projects have positive aspects. For example, on our way to see the city’s Parthenon (a full-scale replica of the one in Athens, minus the metro station), we walked past a sign at one proposed condo site informing the public of an upcoming hearing on the developer’s request to reduce the site’s minimum parking requirements.

But overall, it seemed that buildings are just being plopped down at random, without a grander vision to integrate them into well-connected, mixed-use neighborhoods. Though many pre-existing structures could, with the right improvements, effectively mix traditional aesthetics with modern culture – much as aforementioned Robert’s did – they’re instead being torn down blindly.

Nashville's Music City Central Station. (Photo by me)

Nashville does have a deeper character, but to find it, we had to look beyond the city center’s glitz. For example, the Gulch neighborhood, otherwise a largely stale mesh of concrete, glass, and asphalt sandwiched between three interstates just southwest of downtown, contains the Station Inn, a legendary, but intimate music venue with acts guaranteed to impress on any given night. 

A closed sidewalk in Nashville. (Photo by me)

Venturing farther outside the urban core, we found predictably bike- and pedestrian-hostile streets, but also a variety of unique restaurants, stores, bars, and breweries.

In finding our way to, from, and between these destinations, we strongly felt the forces behind the city’s identity crisis.

Nashville’s transportation infrastructure – a network of highways and wide arterials that feed into large parking lots – is designed primarily for personal auto use. Ride-hailing companies have piggybacked on this infrastructure, of course.

When my dad and I boarded Route 4 at the Vinyl Tap record store and bar, we were the only riders on the bus. A few other passengers got on as we progressed toward the city center. (Photo by me)

Bus routes do utilize the highways and arterials, comprising a hub-and-spoke system that operates at limited frequencies and converges at the aforementioned Music City Central Station. Since we were staying close to the downtown transit center, buses effectively served most of our mobility needs for the weekend. But most people seemed to have little idea the bus system was there.

A bus stop bench near Wilburn Street Tavern mocks the annoyances of driving. (Photo by me)

The city seems to want something more than this status quo. Bus stop benches even featured tounge-in-cheek messages intended to entice drivers to try transit, such as “parking schmarking” and “driving is boooring.” But – as with the ongoing downtown-area redevelopment – the focus seems to be primarily on plopping new things down, without considering how they can enhance what’s already there and effectively fit into peoples’ lives.

A drive-thru liquor store and a cyclist forced onto the sidewalk by a lack of adequate infrastructure comprise a fitting background for the BRT Lite station across the street from Smith & Lentz Brewing Company. (Photo by me)

For example, one bus route we rode (Route 56), advertised as “BRT Lite,” featured modestly upgraded stations. But the stops required challenging street crossings to access, and the route lacked the short headways and dedicated lanes needed to support the top-notch service riders deserve from a product sold as Bus Rapid Transit.

Scooters in Nashville's city center. (Photo by me)

Shared e-scooters dotted the streets, but as with the BRT Lite line, the city hadn’t invested in the dedicated infrastructure needed to safely and efficiently accommodate them. 

Due to its poor placement, this Nashville B-Cycle station obstructs bus riders. (Photo by me)

The dock-based bikeshare system, Nashville B-Cycle, seemed even more haphazardly deployed. For example, one of the system’s stations in the Gulch stood right in a bus stop, obstructing us from getting off our Route 17 bus rather than serving as the effective first and last mile connection it presumably was intended to.

Nashville's Union Station, a relic of a better transportation past, contrasts with the auto-dependent environment in the foreground. (Photo by me)

The city’s approach to longer-distance mobility also focuses too much on appearances at the expense of substance. Nashville Union Station has been magnificently restored – as a Marriott hotel. Meanwhile, the city has remained without intercity rail service since the Jimmy Carter administration cut Amtrak’s Chicago-Miami/St. Petersburg Floridian in 1979.

Intercity bus service hasn’t stepped in to fill the gap. For example, my dad traveled on to Asheville, NC from Nashville, but was forced to rent a car for the trip because the sole bus option connecting the two locations, operated by Greyhound, departed at 1:30am and required a transfer.

Nashville's Route 56 bus, advertised as Bus Rapid Transit, takes on riders at Music City Central Station. (Photo by me)

The rejected ballot measure would not have solved all of Nashville’s urban planning challenges. For example, the new rail and BRT lines would have converged in the city center, as the existing transit system does, while the spoke-based activity hubs we enjoyed would have remained relatively unconnected to each other.

Despite this, the proposed infrastructure improvements would have brought Nashville some of the substance it needs to reclaim the identity it currently can’t find. The resulting connectivity would have allowed the city to develop in a more natural manner, bringing old and new together.

Musical notation on the bus shelter in front of Nashville Municipal Auditorium. (Photo by me)

Fortunately, though transit planners can put referenda before voters as many times as they want, they only have to win once to make those plans reality. It’s inevitable that one day, Nashville will obtain the funding it needs to bolster its transit system. 

Until then, however, it will be experiences like the one we had at Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack that continue to define Nashville’s mobility and culture. Situated in an outlying strip mall, it was one of the few places we visited during the trip that we got to via ride-hailing instead of by bus. However, dark windows greeted us when we arrived, and we soon learned that recent damage to the structure had necessitated a long-term closure.

The cause of the damage: a car that had crashed into the building several weeks earlier.