Leave it to the Japanese to find a compact way to store hundreds of bicycles. From what I've read, this is just in Tokyo for now, though the vid says the company is looking to expand to other metropolitan areas.
September 12, 2010
September 7, 2010
Re-burbia
A frustration with suburban sprawl is that there just doesn't seem to be anything that can be done about it: origins and destinations are spread out, cars are obligatory, there are no public spaces. And it all seems so permanent, so ... built. The experience of walking in such an environment makes me feel like an afterthought--the lonely consequence of a planner who hedged his bets: "Well, no one will want to walk in a place like this ... but I better put in some sidewalks, just in case."
You have to throw pedestrians more than a bone to get walkability, and that's exactly what this really sweet entry in the Re-urbia Suburban Design Competition does. Take a look:
Infill development has the potential to gradually transform suburban sprawl into spaces that can support additional uses. I extra extra love these ideas because no raze n rebuild is needed; the new blends in with the old. The big developments that result from clearing large swaths of land always feel less than real, a bit ... sterile. Like plots of mixed use simulacra. Better to go incremental, though incremental, by definition, is slow.
Here are the rest of the finalists. Definitely worth a peek.
Update: the person who submitted this portfolio to the competition did not disclose her affiliation with New Urbanist titans Duany, Plater and Zyberk et al., but apparently she is one of the principals. Still great work, just not quite the diamond in the rough it once seemed!
You have to throw pedestrians more than a bone to get walkability, and that's exactly what this really sweet entry in the Re-urbia Suburban Design Competition does. Take a look:
Here are the rest of the finalists. Definitely worth a peek.
Update: the person who submitted this portfolio to the competition did not disclose her affiliation with New Urbanist titans Duany, Plater and Zyberk et al., but apparently she is one of the principals. Still great work, just not quite the diamond in the rough it once seemed!
Automobile Attrition v. City Erosion
In her famous Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs asserts that priority of automobiles in urban planning creates one of two realities: automobile attrition or city erosion.
The latter is the accumulated result of many individual decisions to boost drivers' convenience: a road widened here, a curb corner softened to allow for faster right turning traffic flow, removing parking meters, and so on. Individually these seem fruitful--I can imagine an engineer pleasantly surveying his handiwork with his hands on his hips, secure in contributing to expedited travel. The aggregate, however, is a city slouching toward automobile dependency, less friendly to pedestrians and bikers, and thereby lacking the foot traffic and density to sustain vibrancy. Developments grow outward because ever more room is needed for automobiles. And a city is eroded.
Automobile attrition works in the opposite direction. Sidewalks in high ped traffic areas are widened. Buses get signal prioritization. Zoning doesn't require a mandatory minimum number of parking spaces, street parking is priced, and parking lots are behind stores, rather than separating the would-be window shoppers from their window quarry. Note that these policies are not knee-jerk anti-auto policies: they work toward a definable, positive goal. This is different from, say, shutting down a street to cars and turning it into a pedestrian mall. Unless skillfully done in the right location, removing cars doesn't do much of anything. In fact, such a move can be quite deadening. Eugene, Tampa, Boston and others learned the hard way that ped malls are tricky to replicate.
All this push/pull about the issue of cars in cities brings me to this conundrum:
At 1111 Lincoln Road in Miami, Herzog and de Meuron have built a parking garage with ground floor retail, a penthouse, and additional retail space on the 4th floor. And a distinct visual style, to say the least.
I've been torn on this for a while: I dislike that it's a monument to automobile culture, and I somewhat dislike the concrete aesthetic, though I've rarely seen concrete wielded with anything approaching this dexterity (usually you get this and other Le Corbusier knock-offs). I also worry that it might start a trend, and I fear that its less artful progeny will just be big and blocky deadspaces. Like most parking garages.
On the other hand, I love that it adds real identity to its location--it's a destination, justifiably. It nicely encloses the pedestrian promenade, and the wall-less parking levels make a usually claustrophobic space open and nearly vertiginous. As Andres Duany, king of New Urbanism, says in the above clip, it is a form of civic activism that expands a parking garage from a cramped afterthought into a public space capable of bringing people together. A parking garage as plaza--I bet architects can push that angle in neat ways, but again, I fear the less-skilled imitators (Benches and potted plants do not a plaza make, and I think the wall-less-ness only works when there's a killer view, like here).
Ultimately I'm siding with Duany on this one. I don't think automobile accommodation can be termed city eroding when it clearly adds diverse uses and visual pizazz while creating a defined a pedestrian mall at its base.
All cities need parking; 1111 Lincoln Street shows us that sating this need can also create dynamic public spaces. I hope the vibrancy sticks after the buzz wears off.
The latter is the accumulated result of many individual decisions to boost drivers' convenience: a road widened here, a curb corner softened to allow for faster right turning traffic flow, removing parking meters, and so on. Individually these seem fruitful--I can imagine an engineer pleasantly surveying his handiwork with his hands on his hips, secure in contributing to expedited travel. The aggregate, however, is a city slouching toward automobile dependency, less friendly to pedestrians and bikers, and thereby lacking the foot traffic and density to sustain vibrancy. Developments grow outward because ever more room is needed for automobiles. And a city is eroded.
Automobile attrition works in the opposite direction. Sidewalks in high ped traffic areas are widened. Buses get signal prioritization. Zoning doesn't require a mandatory minimum number of parking spaces, street parking is priced, and parking lots are behind stores, rather than separating the would-be window shoppers from their window quarry. Note that these policies are not knee-jerk anti-auto policies: they work toward a definable, positive goal. This is different from, say, shutting down a street to cars and turning it into a pedestrian mall. Unless skillfully done in the right location, removing cars doesn't do much of anything. In fact, such a move can be quite deadening. Eugene, Tampa, Boston and others learned the hard way that ped malls are tricky to replicate.
All this push/pull about the issue of cars in cities brings me to this conundrum:
At 1111 Lincoln Road in Miami, Herzog and de Meuron have built a parking garage with ground floor retail, a penthouse, and additional retail space on the 4th floor. And a distinct visual style, to say the least.
I've been torn on this for a while: I dislike that it's a monument to automobile culture, and I somewhat dislike the concrete aesthetic, though I've rarely seen concrete wielded with anything approaching this dexterity (usually you get this and other Le Corbusier knock-offs). I also worry that it might start a trend, and I fear that its less artful progeny will just be big and blocky deadspaces. Like most parking garages.
On the other hand, I love that it adds real identity to its location--it's a destination, justifiably. It nicely encloses the pedestrian promenade, and the wall-less parking levels make a usually claustrophobic space open and nearly vertiginous. As Andres Duany, king of New Urbanism, says in the above clip, it is a form of civic activism that expands a parking garage from a cramped afterthought into a public space capable of bringing people together. A parking garage as plaza--I bet architects can push that angle in neat ways, but again, I fear the less-skilled imitators (Benches and potted plants do not a plaza make, and I think the wall-less-ness only works when there's a killer view, like here).
Ultimately I'm siding with Duany on this one. I don't think automobile accommodation can be termed city eroding when it clearly adds diverse uses and visual pizazz while creating a defined a pedestrian mall at its base.
All cities need parking; 1111 Lincoln Street shows us that sating this need can also create dynamic public spaces. I hope the vibrancy sticks after the buzz wears off.
September 5, 2010
PARKing Day is coming!
September 17th, a Friday. The premise is to turn a parking space into a park, or whatever your imagination can turn a 9'ish by 18'ish curbside space into. From their website, the goal is to:
make PARK installations honest gestures of generosity and civic engagement, and to support creativity, cultural expression, socializing and play. PARK(ing) Day is about offering the casual passerby a place to just sit, relax, casually interact with folks, or just sit and do nothing.
There are instructions for how to make your own PARK, and maps to facilitate PARKing tourism. Check it out!
make PARK installations honest gestures of generosity and civic engagement, and to support creativity, cultural expression, socializing and play. PARK(ing) Day is about offering the casual passerby a place to just sit, relax, casually interact with folks, or just sit and do nothing.
There are instructions for how to make your own PARK, and maps to facilitate PARKing tourism. Check it out!
The CCCTA joins the internet community
With a serious upgrade. I'm almost disappointed I didn't get to formally critique their old website. It was a piece of work--really reminded me of the days when I would ask my parents' permission to "surf the web." You know, 28.8 modems and all.
The new site is a big step toward being taken seriously.
Unsurprisingly, it does not link to their teen outreach video. Probably for the best.
The new site is a big step toward being taken seriously.
Unsurprisingly, it does not link to their teen outreach video. Probably for the best.
September 4, 2010
Carless in Suburbia: Reflections
With 3 exceptions* I have not used a car since I moved to Danville on August 12th, 3 weeks ago.
CCCTA service: the morning bus to BART arrives within 2-3 minutes of its stated arrival time, and gets to Walnut Creek around 8 minutes after its scheduled terminus--but for a late morning/late rush hour service, that's pretty good. The MBTA buses in Boston rarely followed the schedule, and only a few buslines had headways small enough to make simply showing up at the bus stop a viable option. You still had to check the schedule.
However, on 4 separate occasions I have had to chase down buses. That's about 25% of the bus trips I've taken. Only one of these was the driver's fault; I detailed this here. While that driver just never stopped, the other 3 occasions came from cutting my BART commute home a bit too close. As in, my BART train arrives at 6:10. Delays of 2-3 minutes, coupled with the afternoon rush hour mass exodus, and sometimes with that pesky addfare, usually mean I arrive in time to see the 6:15 bus pulling out of the bus bay.
Two days ago I ran behind the bus, arms flailing. A week and two days ago I had my bike, and even though there was no bus in sight, I pedaled like the dickens and caught it at its 3rd stop. Two weekends ago I biked alongside the bus and hopped on at its first stop.
My first takeaway: it helps to be young and fleet of foot. Second: there are significant convenience trade-offs. I enjoy adding an extra half hour to my commute to snooze or read, but that's how much longer the bus takes. Convenience trade-off corollary: missing the bus = 30 minute wait. Hence all that durned bus chasing.
*Driving my sister to Oregon for her senior year of college, family trip to visit grandmother in Mountain View, and picking up two large deep dish pizzas. Bike rack will need some mods before I'll trust it to safely handle the divinity of Zachary's Pizza.
CCCTA service: the morning bus to BART arrives within 2-3 minutes of its stated arrival time, and gets to Walnut Creek around 8 minutes after its scheduled terminus--but for a late morning/late rush hour service, that's pretty good. The MBTA buses in Boston rarely followed the schedule, and only a few buslines had headways small enough to make simply showing up at the bus stop a viable option. You still had to check the schedule.
However, on 4 separate occasions I have had to chase down buses. That's about 25% of the bus trips I've taken. Only one of these was the driver's fault; I detailed this here. While that driver just never stopped, the other 3 occasions came from cutting my BART commute home a bit too close. As in, my BART train arrives at 6:10. Delays of 2-3 minutes, coupled with the afternoon rush hour mass exodus, and sometimes with that pesky addfare, usually mean I arrive in time to see the 6:15 bus pulling out of the bus bay.
Two days ago I ran behind the bus, arms flailing. A week and two days ago I had my bike, and even though there was no bus in sight, I pedaled like the dickens and caught it at its 3rd stop. Two weekends ago I biked alongside the bus and hopped on at its first stop.
My first takeaway: it helps to be young and fleet of foot. Second: there are significant convenience trade-offs. I enjoy adding an extra half hour to my commute to snooze or read, but that's how much longer the bus takes. Convenience trade-off corollary: missing the bus = 30 minute wait. Hence all that durned bus chasing.
*Driving my sister to Oregon for her senior year of college, family trip to visit grandmother in Mountain View, and picking up two large deep dish pizzas. Bike rack will need some mods before I'll trust it to safely handle the divinity of Zachary's Pizza.
Rural Transit
The Kings County Area Public Transportation Agency (KCAPTA) has achieved a difficult feat in the world of transit: a successful public transit system in the lowest of low density areas. From Way2Go:
KCAPTA oversees the Kings Area Rural Transit system (KART) and the Agricultural Industries Transportation Services, which includes more than 380 vanpools and 23 rural bus routes stretching from Kern to Madera counties. The system connects agricultural workers and correctional officers to work every day, provides critical access to medical services for the elderly, and ensures that low-income residents have a way to get to colleges that are spread throughout the area.
Kern to Madera county: that's a big stretch of land. Kern county alone is over 8,000 square miles, and has only 660,000 people. Efficient transit is tricky when the average density is 81 people per square mile.
Yet KART has managed to thrive under such difficult conditions. Rather than spending millions on the capital outlays for light rail or even your typical 40 foot bus, KART relied on state grants to purchase a van fleet originally intended to aid commutes for day laborers. The service expanded as popularity and revenue increased: what began in 2002 with 28 vans now has over 230 vanpools serving nearly 4,000 people. The day laborer program now has its own umbrella, Agricultural Industries Transit Service (AITS), and state employees (mostly of the multiple prisons in the area), teachers, and students utilize KARTvanpool to register their own vanpool.
Talk about low risk expansion: simply gather riders with a shared destination, make sure one has a DMV-approvable driving record, and call the Kings County Area Public Transit Agency.
The kicker: all operational costs are covered by rider fares.
KCAPTA oversees the Kings Area Rural Transit system (KART) and the Agricultural Industries Transportation Services, which includes more than 380 vanpools and 23 rural bus routes stretching from Kern to Madera counties. The system connects agricultural workers and correctional officers to work every day, provides critical access to medical services for the elderly, and ensures that low-income residents have a way to get to colleges that are spread throughout the area.
Kern to Madera county: that's a big stretch of land. Kern county alone is over 8,000 square miles, and has only 660,000 people. Efficient transit is tricky when the average density is 81 people per square mile.
Yet KART has managed to thrive under such difficult conditions. Rather than spending millions on the capital outlays for light rail or even your typical 40 foot bus, KART relied on state grants to purchase a van fleet originally intended to aid commutes for day laborers. The service expanded as popularity and revenue increased: what began in 2002 with 28 vans now has over 230 vanpools serving nearly 4,000 people. The day laborer program now has its own umbrella, Agricultural Industries Transit Service (AITS), and state employees (mostly of the multiple prisons in the area), teachers, and students utilize KARTvanpool to register their own vanpool.
Talk about low risk expansion: simply gather riders with a shared destination, make sure one has a DMV-approvable driving record, and call the Kings County Area Public Transit Agency.
The kicker: all operational costs are covered by rider fares.
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