The quiet tragedy of sidewalks in a suburb

I lived in Baltimore for 5 years before moving to the Los Angeles this past year. I liked Baltimore. It was far from perfect but I truly believe it is an underrated city and misunderstood. Baltimore's nickname is Charm City, and when I first learned of that tidbit I scoffed. Charm City? The city where The Wire took place, known for crime is Charming? I was not immune to rumors and media propaganda. But shortly after moving here, I fully understood Charm City's title.

Baltimore, unlike the suburbs I grew up with, had character. You can see it in the architecture and the people. Partially due to the age of the city, it was designed before cars, sprawl, and highways were a consideration, resulting in place that genuinely felt like a community of people. For the first time in my life I had neighbors I actually knew and could walk to. I have weekly coffee chats with a friend that I walk to because there was a local coffee and pie shop within 2 minutes of my apartment. I've made new friends from participating in my local community, something I couldn't even imagine before in my times in a suburb. The local referred to the city as "Smalltimore", in reference to the magic of bumping into people who just so happens to know the same friend as you. Those 5 years in Baltimore was the first time I understood the magic of the city. There was a massive park right outside my door (Patterson Park is still the best park I've been), restaurants embedded in the neighborhood, and even a local library within biking distance. Sure the roads are bumpy, a lack of Asian foods, and the crime did raise my baseline anxiety levels, but ultimately, I had a wonderful and positive experience living in Baltimore.

After living in Baltimore, I was dreading this move to Los Angeles because I've lived in LA in the past and absolutely hated it. Los Angeles is a suburb sprawling out of control, pretending to be a city. The last time I lived here I was in a completely residential area on a hill in east LA. The only thing reachable on foot was a small park; everything else required driving. Biking was difficult because we lived on a massive slope and makes going back home a brutal climb (tried it, not pleasant). Everything was a drive or an expensive ride-share away. I didn't fully realize it then, but that was miserable and I was not happy living there. That was my impression of LA. Part of that disdain still hasn't gone away. I loath those parts of Los Angeles, always will.

However, LA is massive and heterogeneous. Where you live within LA is imperative to your experience living in the second most populous city in America (and most populous county). I'm happy to report that my experience with LA this time around is significantly better than the first.

I am thankful of all the privileges I have that landed me in one of the most walkable neighborhood in Los Angeles. I am minutes walking to groceries stores, shops, restaurants, and minutes biking to libraries, bookstores, the dentists, hospitals, and green spaces. Pretty much of all my necessities are within a walk or a bike ride away. That plus the decent proximity to the LA Metro and their bus routes, for the first time living in California I felt the same feeling of freedom I felt in Baltimore, not having to subjugate my life to a car (which I do not have nor ever plan on having), or more specifically relying on other people's cars. LA doesn't have to be the nightmare that I experienced. There are good parts of LA, and I a happy to report I don't hate it as much as I used to.

There is a new city that I loath. Irvine. Due to family responsibility, I have to frequent the place. Each time I enter it's premises, my mental health plummets. The most depressing thing about Irvine: the sidewalks.

Walking and cycling as transportation.

When we talk about walkability and cyclability of a space, we often start with the infrastructure. If there are no sidewalks, or if the sidewalks are poor quality, intermittent, and unprotected, people tend not to walk. Same thing when it comes to cycling; if the roads are not bike friendly, people won't bike. I can attest to this personally. In Baltimore, I bought my first bike, and commuted with my trusted simple machine as much as I could. However, the streets of Baltimore aren't the most friendly to cyclist (both the literal road surface, and general biking infrastructure), and that did discourage me from biking more than I might have otherwise. Los Angeles (the area I am today, not East LA) is better but still not as bike friendly as a city should be.

However, I still biked and walked in Baltimore and LA today, more so than I ever did before. There's enough space on the road that makes biking possible, so I do.

Irvine is the opposite. In Irvine, there are gorgeous sidewalks and bike lanes. Side walks are 8 feet wide, with trees on both sides, meaning it's not pressed right up to the asphalt. Well manicured hedges and flowers covered the places with no trees, seemingly constantly maintained like the landscaping you see on a luxury resort. The bike lanes are wide, brightly painted green with ample buffer space (sometimes even a few plastic bollards) between the cycling space and the car space.

They are also extremely depressing. Because almost no one uses them.

Walking and biking infrastructure is necessary but not sufficient, and Irvine and other wealthy suburbs are prime examples of this. They have some of the best sidewalks and bike lanes in the country, yet the only people who use them (of which there are few) are the recreational users. The very few times I've seen people walking on sidewalks in Irvine, they were clearly walking for the sake of walking; also known as exercising. The few times I've seen cyclists, they were fully decked out in expensive road cycling gear, clearing cycling for the sake of cycling. These uses are valid, of course, but indicates a fundamental flaw of suburbs.

It doesn't matter how big and beautiful the sidewalks and bike lanes are if everything is miles away. A space fundamentally designed for cars is inherently incompatible with walking and cycling even if space is carved out for them because the best type of walking and biking is the type that can achieve a purpose beyond "just exercising". The question isn't "can I walk" the question should be "can I walk to places I want to go". Can I get groceries by walking? Can I go to the local park by walking? (there is something particularly depressing about having to drive to your "local" community park) Can I walk to the library? Can I walk to a gym/Pilates/yoga? Can I walk or bike to the doctor or dentist? Can I walk to a good restaurant or cafe? If I have a friend that lives in the same zip code as I do, can I visit them by walking or biking? Can I reach these essential amenities that make community possible? Multiple studies have shown the walkability and cyclability of a neighborhood improves health and wellbeing, and what that looks like is incorporating walking and cycling into daily routines. Not everyone has the privilege of having dedicated time to exercise. The best way to improve the health of the people is by making physical activities accessible.

Walkability is not merely "am I able to walk". Walkability is "the accessibility of amenities within a reasonable walking distance." Like a typical car-pilled suburb, several neighborhoods of Irvine have little to no amenities within a reasonable walking distance or cycling distance.

Irvine depresses me because it is full of beautiful built environments that I'm sure cost a bunch of money to build and maintain that almost no one uses. It is the height of entitlement and privilege to insist all that space be reserved for the occasional recreational walks and bike rides instead of utilizing the space to foster community and connection.

Don't get me started on how suburbs induces social isolation and depression.

Live somewhere walkable and bikeable. You'll be happier.