UP TO SPEED A well thought out
transit plan considers the interface between high speed and local transportation. This plan for Riverside County, California, seeks to simplify ac-
cess to the high speed rail system.
nities may fall short of goals to reduce auto commuting. Developers must walk a fine
line. Many Americans have an ill-informed view of density. They associate denser living with crime and squalor, unfair prejudices carried over from the days of federal housing projects of the 1960s. They need to be educated about the financial benefits of local commerce. The cost of certain goods on
relatively self sustaining—not just a brick and mortar version of an upscale bedroom community, is no cake walk. (See “A Tale of Two Towns,” below.) One of the roadblocks to self-sustaining
communities has been reducing auto depen- dency. But that’s not just a matter of adding alleys, trails, and narrow, pedestrian-friendly streets. It’s a question of commerce. Why do people drive? To get to work, yes, but also to shop, visit with friends and family, or attend cultural and entertainment events. A “neigh- borhood” lacking in any of these urban ame-
the surface may be somewhat less in a chain store a short drive away. But transporta- tion should be added to the bottom line, along with other
hidden energy and environmental costs. For example, a study in Austin, Texas, by a local business alliance found that “for every $100 spent at a chain, $13 remained in the com- munity while $45 remained when spent with home town businesses.” Many local retail shops in new master planned towns have trouble attracting enough sales volume to survive. To address that shortfall, most master plans call for a commercial center on the outer perimeter of the community that taps a heavy traffic
NEIGHBORHOODS: A TALE OF TWO TOWNS
Last month, I visited a new urbanist planned community on the western edge of Gainesville, Fla., called the Village at Haile Plantation. I’ve spent time at many of these new urbanist town centers, and they’re getting better, but driving into one is still a surreal experience. Not a beat-up car in sight. Quiet, shady streets. Narrow lot homes—many of them for sale— and immaculately well swept streets. To understand why a dense, planned community here seems both
pleasant and strange, it helps to drive through Gainesville. Much as I enjoyed grad school at UF back in the late 1980s, Gainesville’s street persona is more pawn shop than plantation. Aside from the university, which serves as a speed bump in the center of town, the city—if city it can be called—sprawls on multi-lane avenues past big box stores, car dealerships, and parking lots. For the most part, it’s a place that serves the automobile, not the pedestrian. I know from experience that bicycling there can be a near-death experience. On that level, a slowed down place like Haile Plantation has its
benefits. It just feels a bit forced. There’s no crazy uncle smoking on the porch. You don’t see bumper stickers on any of the late model cars, unless you include the usual Go Gators bling—and you certainly won’t see a political sign on anybody’s front lawn. This is neutralville, where all the sex happens when the kids are in bed asleep and the nanny has gone home to Archer. By happenstance, I visited the town of Gloucester, Mass., a few weeks
after my Gainesville stay. It’s a 350-year-old settlement North of Boston. The place is alive with personality, relatively diverse, and also quite self sustaining. Many of the residents I spoke with rarely drive—it has a solid commercial center made up of mostly local businesses. With a population about five times higher than Haile Plantation, of course, it can sustain a movie theater and many other types of retail. But something else is different. It’s a place that’s deep below the surface. People have lived and worked here side by side for decades. They’ve risked their lives on fishing boats and working in dangerous factories. They have a powerful bond that ties them to the community, and makes it real. People don’t drive out of town to go to work every morning. They walk down to the docks. Maybe I’m being too hard on places like Haile Plantation. The goal of
traditional neighborhood designs is a good one—to create a better, more sustainable lifestyle. The Plantation architect says an internal study found that 23% of vehicle trips are being “captured” within the community. That’s a good start. But maybe what’s needed to breathe life into new urbanism is greater emphasis on meaningful work together: organic farms, green manufacturing, and environmental restoration projects. Maybe in 50 years, the parking spots on main street of the Haile Village Center will be planted with Cypress trees. When one of the diverse residents needs to visit the Gainesville museum of sprawl, she can borrow the shared loaner car—or ride the solar trolley.—M. Power
www.greenbuildermag.com
July > August 2010 GreenBuilder
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