Posted on Sep 26, 2018
Last week, Jonathan Sessions and I were walking through the streets of Ann Arbor, Michigan with a group of other professionals from the Columbia Chamber of Commerce’s yearly Leadership Visit when Jonathan looked up from his phone and said, “There’s a nest nearby.” We dashed across the street and snagged the last two Birds.
Moments later, a college kid running late to work appeared looking for a quick ride. As we logged into our scooters, he ran off in search of another nest. We guided our Birds into the street, hit the throttle, and we were flying.
Well, maybe not flying. After all, Bird scooters only go about 15 miles an hour, but in contrast to the slow pace of walking, it sure felt like it.
Bird scooters first appeared in southern California — where the company is based — but their recent nationwide roll-out was aimed at college towns and timed to coincide with the start of classes.
The scooters are battery operated, app-driven, and cost $1 to unlock and about 15 cents a mile after that. They materialized overnight here in Columbia—downtown, on campus, and even on The Loop—all places with large student populations who are sure to be quick adopters.
I’m a big proponent of the park-once approach to cities. If you must take a car downtown, park it in a garage and then walk everywhere you have to be. But if your destination is a little out of the way—say Stephens College or down to Flat Branch Park—a Bird is more convenient. They’re designed for short trips, easier to park than cars, and more decorous than a bike (especially when one is wearing a dress). I love walking through cities but the Birds are a breezy alternative.
So what, then, is the problem? You may have heard that MU has banned them from campus. Cities across the country are up in arms over the infestation of Birds. In fact, just after our visit, Ann Arbor began confiscating the scooters.
It’s less about the scooters themselves and more about the commitment to disruption underpinning the business model of companies like Bird or Uber. The scooters appear in a city overnight without warning. They are parked in the middle of the sidewalk, no one is instructed on the rules of the road, and they use city infrastructure without contributing to its upkeep. Alternative modes of transportation are great; flaunting the rules we all live by is not.
So, what are the rules? First, don’t ride on the sidewalk—it’s far too dangerous for pedestrians. (Yes, I know I’m on a sidewalk in the picture, but we thought it advisable I didn’t try to pose for a photo in the middle of traffic!) Birds should be ridden like a bike, either in the bike lane or sharing the road if it’s narrow. Second, don’t leave the scooters parked in the middle of the sidewalk where they block pedestrians and people in wheelchairs.
And what about the larger question we should be asking of these new, disruptive forms of transportation like Bird, Uber, and Lyft? They use city infrastructure—streets, sidewalks, and valuable curbside space—but are they helping pay the bills? The city is in the process of negotiating a contract with Bird, but the fact that we had to reach out to them speaks volumes. So, let’s embrace these new forms of transportation but insist they embrace our community in return.
This article originally appeared in the Columbia Business Times.
Posted on Oct 16, 2017
I grew up in Orange, California, a city that decided to forgo the traditional town square in favor of a circle. The Orange Circle is a two-lane roundabout surrounding a park and a fountain that was funded, I kid you not, back in 1886 through local bake sales. Every teenager in town learned to drive through it — if your high school football team won, you were required to cruise around it multiple times with your friends hanging out the windows cheering. Waving school pennants earned you extra points.
Given such fond memories, there was no one more pleased than I when MoDOT announced their plan to improve the West Boulevard exit off I-70 with not one but two new roundabouts. And it wasn’t just a case of personal nostalgia — roundabouts are better than traditional intersections in many ways. They decrease crashes, keep traffic flowing better, and, frankly, are usually more attractive than a typical intersection.
Now to use a little traffic lingo. A traditional intersection has 32 potential vehicle conflicts and 24 pedestrian–vehicle ones. In contrast, a roundabout has only 8 potential vehicle conflicts and 8 pedestrian–vehicle ones. Collisions on a roundabout are also more likely to be minor fender benders than dangerous and costly T-bone collisions. Overall, the Federal Highway Administration has found roundabouts reduce injury crashes by 75 percent and fatal crashes by a whopping 90 percent. Because roundabouts slow vehicle traffic down considerably, any collision with a pedestrian is less likely to be fatal.
Traffic also flows better when you don’t make cars wait for a light to change. Stop-and-go traffic can be frustrating, and all too often, rushed drivers try to avoid red lights by cutting through parking lots, which is also dangerous for unsuspecting pedestrians and drivers. Because roundabouts keep traffic moving, its common to see at least a 20% reduction in delays — and safer parking lots too.
Perhaps the best reason for roundabouts is that it allows us to recapture precious public space that we lost to the road decades ago. In my hometown, the Circle is a community space. It’s where the city holds the International Street Fair on Labor Day weekend each year; it’s where we celebrated when runners brought the Olympic Torch through town on the way to Los Angeles; it’s where we hang our holiday decorations come November.
We may not be able to fit a park and fountain in the middle of our roundabouts, but beautification, landscaping, and public art are all options. Just imagine a piece of public art surrounded by native flowers, welcoming visitors off I-70 into our city. Parents dropping their kids off at college would have a pleasant entrance into town, road-weary travelers would see it as sign that Columbia is a good place to stop for the night, and families would welcome it as the first glimpse of home after a long journey.
There’s a long history here in Columbia of cruising The Loop — just ask any former Kewpie. Still, we could learn something from the kids coasting around the Orange Circle. And now that we’ve got our roundabouts, I’d be happy to serve as the pace car some Friday night after the game.
This article originally appeared in the Columbia Business Times.
Posted on Sep 18, 2017
Posted on Sep 1, 2017
One thing we heard loud and clear at our planning open house for The Loop was the desire for more public space. I heard Gertrude Stein paraphrased a number of times as people joked, “There is no there there.”
Public spaces are taken for granted in a downtown area, where parks and squares are common threads in the urban fabric. When engineers of yesteryear were building cross-state highways, though, no one really thought about spaces for people to linger. Sure, Highway 40 (now The Loop) had its share of motels, services stations, and honky-tonks, but they were all private spaces designed for people who arrived in automobiles.
Cosmo Park can serve as our very own Central Park, but we still need other public spaces along the length of the corridor. If we truly want to revitalize the Business Loop and make it a place everyone feels welcome, we need to find some creative solutions to carving out space for the community.
A number of cities are forgoing the traditional courthouse squares or urban parks and creating new, creative gathering places. One increasingly common option is pop-up parks — temporary public spaces created to activate vacant lots or unused parking areas.
The Plot, in Norfolk, Virginia, is a great example of this. When a development project in a key area of downtown fell through, hundreds of volunteers stepped up to raise money, build paths, and plant flowers on the dirt lot. The result was a temporary park with seating, a small stage, and free Wi-Fi.
Downtowners immediately began gathering there to eat lunch or meet friends after work. The project was so successful in bringing attention to the space that the land was purchased for a hotel. No worries though — the volunteers simply packed up the chairs and the stage and moved it all to a new location.
Other cities are letting the public space take the lead in the planning process, rather than treating it as an afterthought. Makers Quarter in San Diego took a “pre-development” approach where, with just a touch of chutzpah, they built a public gathering space before any of the area’s proposed development projects were off the ground.
The Silo, at Makers Quarter, is a gravel lot enlivened by graffiti-inspired murals and presided over by an old water tower. Picnic tables and a few strings of lights round out the amenities. Food trucks, beer tastings, live music, and outdoor movies draw crowds to the area despite the lack of traditional restaurant and retail options. Not only does The Silo draw attention to the area, but it also helps developers figure out what people want the area to become — people are voting with their feet.
We have plenty of underutilized space here on The Loop, and we certainly want to create more room for restaurants, retailers, offices, and even artisan industries. Along the way, though, we’ll be sure to set aside some space for the public that’s creative, engaging, and, of course, welcoming.
This article originally appeared in the Columbia Business Times.
Posted on Aug 22, 2017
As Vox pointed out:
The path of the total eclipse across the country, which sliced diagonally from Oregon to South Carolina, was remarkable in that it avoided most major cities entirely, with the exception of Nashville, St. Louis, and Kansas City. Instead, it graced hundreds of small towns in 14 states…
We were lucky to be one of those towns in the middle of America and I was lucky enough to have friend that was handy with a camera while I stood in awe.