Sprawl and quality of life in northern Vermont

A daily fitness walk route into and through the village of Essex Junction includes a hilly street named “Woods End” (the apostrophe is missing on the street sign). It’s truth in advertising because the landscape at the top of this street, where it transitions into Briar Lane, is indeed the “end of the woods.”

They’ve all been cleared, save for a few tiny woodlots. The reason? To make way for a new sprawl subdivision named “Village Walks.” The irony? Residents of Village Walks aren’t very likely to walk for groceries or anything else related to being consumers and members of society. But they are extremely likely to drive their personal motor vehicles; and not just to commute to workplaces, but for all the chores of daily life.

Sprawl practically mandates the use of cars. And it reinforces our ongoing proclivity to destroy wild nature, while sprawl itself ruins what at least some folks claim is their reason for moving into exurbia in the first place.

To be fair, it’s not just Essex Junction or even the wider stretch of land called Chittenden County. The sprawl machine is churning out more single-family homes this very minute. Sprawl, because of its reliance on the private automobile, also entails paving over the natural land, and that, in turn, means more storm water tainted with pollutants entering the watershed. In this case that’s Lake Champlain.

As was documented in the field work leading up to publication of The Second Atlas of Breeding Birds in Vermont, the fragmentation and outright loss of the natural landscape leads to population declines of Vermont’s native birds. It’s hard now to find Vermont’s state bird, the Hermit Thrush, nesting anywhere in the town of Essex.

More than that, though, the sprawl machine diminishes the natural heritage of Vermont – the heritage the older generation should be caring for on behalf of generations to come.

Someone has to pay for the services demanded by new development, and that burden goes to the people who already live in a municipality. Think new schools, new teachers, more school buses, police and fire protection, the sewer lines, street construction and maintenance, more street lights, more power lines, the public library, etc.

And because sprawl demands the use of cars, its carbon footprint is sizeable and ever-growing. That relates to the amount of greenhouse gases emitted into our atmosphere by a single household, or neighborhood, or municipality, etc.

As the sprawl machine leapfrogs from yesteryear’s development to this year’s, everyone’s quality of life is harmed: Noise pollution, diminished water quality and loss of outdoor recreational opportunities like favorite fishing holes and hiking trails.

Yes, we’re all deserving of good homes, both for ourselves and our children. But shouldn’t we get people into the many existing houses now on the real estate for-sell lists before wrecking more of our natural countryside?

“Sprawl is expensive. It costs more money to pave a road and connect a sewer line to five families each living a block apart on wooded lots than to build public infrastructure for those same five families living in a condo. It costs more money (and takes more time and gas) to serve those families with garbage trucks, fire engines, and ambulances. And in return . . . those five sprawling single-family homes likely yield less in tax revenue per acre than the apartment building that could house our fictitious residents downtown,” writer Emily Badger states in her “Quantifying the Cost of Sprawl” article for the CityLab Web site (www.citylab.com/).

It’s not difficult to determine whether a neighborhood falls under the heading of “sprawl.” Take a look at it how friendly it is to the wonderful pastime and transportation choice of walking. There’s a Web site, Walkscore.com, that’ll help you do just that.

My own neighborhood (I’m off route 2A just south of the highway’s bridge over the Winooski River) has a pretty weak rating of 31 out of 100. And next to my home’s score are the words, “Most errands require a car.” That’s true for a bunch of things: Shopping for groceries, getting a haircut, visiting the dentist and family doctor, picking up prescription meds. Walking to the closest grocery can be done. It takes an hour or so, as I discovered a few days ago, and some of the hike involves walking on the highway shoulder (not good).

Homes in the neighborhood along Kiln Road (a new street at the top of Woods End) score even weaker than mine. The tag line for the address number I typed into the Walkscore.com search engine is 18 (almost all errands require a car).

Not all sprawl development scores so low. The Finney Crossing project across Williston Road from the Maple Tree Plaza shopping district has a walk score of 69 (Some errands can be accomplished on foot). But the housing project is chewing up former farm land.

CityLab again: “Sprawl may not be a four-letter word, but to many people it might as well be. You can include in that group the researchers at Smart Growth America, the national nonprofit coalition that advocates for ‘smart’ development in U.S. metro areas—i.e., cities and towns with neighborhoods where people can walk or bike or use mass transit to get things done, rather than driving everywhere.”

Why promoting walking conserves human habitat and makes ecological sense

I'm a dedicated fitness walker; have been for four-plus decades. I was attracted to this article by the headline above (which I have repeated above). It's not just human habitat that's conserved, though. It's the habitat that's critical to the lives of our fellow brethren of Earth (the only planet we have). Sure, it's easier to get inside a car and isolate one's self from the world at large, but that's not what life is about. Walking burns calories, not a fossil fuel. Walking does not pollute the air; motoring about in an automobile does.

Towns should invest in walkability, not infrastructure for cars

Parking, roads, sprawl housing and highways equal traffic congestion.

That’s what I see daily on one particular highway in Vermont.

And just as I used to do while walking along Route 93 in and near Conyngham, I look closely at each passing car to determine how many people are in it. My conservative estimate is this: Only one of every 99 motor vehicles that zips past me as I walk the shared walkway/bicycle path has more than one person – the driver – inside the cab of the hurtling 2,000-pound hunk of steel, plastic and glass.

That tells me this: There is no ride-sharing or carpooling to speak of. Vermonters, just like most Americans across the land, are true believers in the “freedom to pollute” philosophy I first heard about while a college student at Idaho State University in the early 970s.

(I write to air some personal thoughts, not pass on those of any organization).

After having my new passport photo taken at the town hall in early July (yes, Vermont has “towns;” Pennsylvania has one, Bloomsburg), I walked across the street to the Williston library to get a new library card. And it will let me borrow books from other local libraries, like the one in Essex Junction village to the north, which I actually live closer to and can walk to, not drive.

I could walk as well to the Williston library, but doing so would pose all sorts of safety hazards – all created by the absence of sidewalks or walkway.

When parking at a grocery store two miles from home, I always shake my head in wonderment at the home builder’s sign stuck into the turf across the road I just traveled, for that is a perfect example of what helps generate more vehicular traffic in the first place: Sprawl development.

It’s the same “highway-leads-to-sprawl-and-more-cars” situation I saw for years snaking across the Nescopeck Creek valley outside Conyngham.

Yes, I know everyone deserves a nice home. It’s American, after all. But yet I see, while walking, more than a few nice places for sale these days, both in Williston and in Essex Junction. It was much the same situation in the Hazleton area during my two decades there.

 How about we try and get people into these existing houses before more natural land is chewed up for a new sprawl neighborhood and its attendant automobiles? Will there be yet another “meadows” development in Sugarloaf? It’s inevitable, I guess.

So, I offer some suggestions: Put walkways, bicycle paths and sidewalks at the top of the funding heap. And remember that spending less on roads means more for public health and environmental mitigation.

Don’t allow any more trees to be felled. Trees native to Pennsylvania (just as those native to northern New England) are carbon dioxide sinks and yield oxygen in the bargain.

The objective of our municipal planning work should be to give people the freedom to move about freely without the burden of enormous gasoline and automobile expenses. What could be more American than that?

P.S. Experts recommend at least 2½ hours of moderate activity (such as brisk walking, brisk cycling, or yard work) a week.  It's fine to walk in blocks of 10 minutes or more throughout your day and week. If you're worried about how brisk walking might affect your health, talk with your doctor before you start a walking program. Daily dog walks are also a great way to keep up your walking routine.

And walking helps you meet other folks. You can’t do that when behind the wheel of your car, truck or SUV.

 You can read more at http://www.fletcherallen.org/health_information/?id=tp23026

Vermont, I grant, is a leader in alternative transportation choices, but widening highways or building new ones simply to relieve congestion does not work – regardless of the state.

Cozy homes for cars: Parking garages

Here is another of my recent newspaper columns:

We’ve been down this road before, buckaroos, but let’s make a U-turn and take another look.

An on-line discussion about an alleged car-parking “problem” in Vermont’s capital, Montpelier, spurs this ramble. (See http://vtdigger.org/2013/12/02/survey-says-montpelier-parking-problem).

One person got things rolling by posting a wish that Montpelier have more parking spaces – slots closer to destinations, like shopping, workplaces, eateries, and such. The goal, of course, would be to make life “easier” and limit walking (a time-honored form of exercise) by building a parking “garage.”

Most Americans who drive a private car, SUV or truck have been in one of these concrete, asphalt and steel things. I hiked around inside the one at Fletcher Allen Health Care in Burlington,Vt., a couple of weeks ago after a medical appointment inside. I hiked for a good hour before finding my car.

Parking garages are huge white elephants, expensive to build, expensive to maintain, unpleasant to look at, and, as others have noted, a crutch for our car-centric culture.

“It would be preferable to find ways to reduce cars in the city, not give them comfy subsidized nests that preclude other, more desirable, uses,” a reader wrote.

His conclusion: “I subscribe to the idea that Montpelier doesn’t have a parking problem – it has a walking problem. It’s easy to find a place to park and shop if you are willing to hoof it a bit. And, you might even drop in on some other store on impulse. Cool! Walking to a store in Montpelier is a lot more fun than playing dodge ‘em with cars in some soulless sidewalk-less big box asphalt desert.”
Wow, well said.
I started thinking about cars, congestion, air and noise pollution, and stormwater runoff about the same time my wife and I moved to Conyngham in 1989 after three years in the Adirondacks. Watching motor vehicles plying Route 93 in the Nescopeck Creek valley was the anecdotal-enriching experience.

Today, I see the same heartless expression of America on wheels in northern Vermont. This time it’s Vermont highway 2A.

Try this yourself sometime soon (it’s more fun than watching tee vee): With clipboard in hand, stand or, better yet, sit at a good place to observe a local highway (Route 309 would qualify nicely) and keep a tally of those passing vehicles with more than one person inside (the driver). If my own experience watching the flow of steel/rubber/plastic/glass is the same as yours, what you’ll record is this: Only one of every 100 or so automobiles passing your vantage point is carrying more than one individual.

I’m not sure what car-buyers these days learn from their dealer-of-choice about their auto’s emissions. And just this morning I sat in a niece’s new Toyota Prius. Nice car, you bet, and the electronic gizmos are astounding.
You can find out for yourself what your own vehicle emits by burning gasoline. Go to www.epa.gov/otaq/consumer/420f08024.pdf

I drive a car too, but I’ve also been a committed walker (for fitness, transportation and fun) for a long time. But here’s the glitch: Parking is only an alleged “nightmare” if one chooses to limit his transportation options to one: The private automobile.

Arguably, the private, family car and the infrastructure needed to keep motor vehicle fleets on the move are among the biggest reasons out there for the ongoing decimation of our country’s natural heritage. McMansions these days come, more often than not, with a three-car garage.

Done right, municipalities can have a high quality-of-life rating and be more walkable, more livable, more fun to be in, and better for the air we all breath – motorists and walkers and bicyclists alike – if we stop trying to make things bigger and better for cars and cars alone.

A closing observation: Just days ago, I sadly found another road-killed owl. This time the species was barred owl. Over decades of birding and observing nature, I have now recorded these six road-kill owl species: barred, barn, eastern screech, great horned, burrowing and western screech.

Our ongoing societal desire to make things best for cars is to blame.

No this, no that, and . . .

It is very much a country of "no" these days, as this sign indicates. I found this one on the edge of the entrance street to a Mallwart complex in suburban Plattsburgh, N.Y., yesterday. If there was more room on the signboard, this is what it should say: Don't even try walking here because this town cares only about cars, trucks, SUVs and climate-change pollution.