Every weekday I wake up and bike to Westbrook. I’m employed out there, but the job itself doesn’t compel me to make the trek. It’s simply fun, if daunting, a great transition to and from work. My body is addicted to the workout. Friends say I’m crazy, but as someone once said, I don’t feel crazy . . .
Or do I? It’s February, and I’m still riding, mudguards in place, dressed like a commando. Winter biking isn’t really that hard; you need gear and body heat. The difficulty is in finding a place on the road. Snowbanks and ice patches occupy the shoulders, leaving you with the road itself: ornery motorists and low-slung truck mirrors. There’s also the selfish frustration of being trapped in traffic, part of the snake, denied the flexibility that had you riding in the first place.
But you can’t blame winter alone. Greater Portland is an awkward place if you’re not driving. Most of the peninsula is friendly to pedestrians and bikers, though bike lanes are limited to scenic paths. The situation’s much worse on the mainland. Sidewalks start and stop abruptly. Road shoulders are small, chunky, and often non-existent. Your feet are only meant for Portland proper. The edges and beyond are clumsy, unfriendly territories.
This would only be the concern of a few die-hard clean-air types if it didn’t say so much about the local economy. In popular discussion, the local economy stops where foot traffic stops. “Buy Local” is a largely downtown campaign. But you can’t buy hardware downtown, or groceries, or basic clothing. These have all been pushed to the edges of the peninsula, which favors cars and convenient highway access. That’s significant: it’s easier to zip to the mall than it is to navigate local streets and parking. Portland has a classic, polarized economy: the city itself is expensive, often trivial, a place to consume rather than dwell; the surroundings are cheaper, practical, and homey.
Simply put, this sucks. It leaves the actual city residents dependent on a trip out of town for their basic necessities. It encourages more car traffic in town, not only from said residents but from the various commuters who are here to work or play and then go home. This hamstrings city development: traffic undermines the friendly, accessible atmosphere that Portland’s trying to cultivate by snarling a small, easily traversed city with unnecessary levels of auto traffic. The city can grow beyond this.
Two things need to happen: the infrastructure needs to be streamlined, and shopowners need affordable real estate. Turn downtown into a walking district. Stretch it from India Street to State Street, creating the opportunity for someone to open a decent general store or food co-op within reach of your daily stroll. Set up specific routes for cars to take, allowing them city access but not inundation. Expand the bike-lane system. That would encourage local life beyond the peninsula without channeling business out to the mall area.
There is a key difference between local routes and the highway, and the economy depends on this distinction. People aren’t going to live block-by-block, but they don’t need to depend on distant box stores, either. They simply need ways to get around town, and around Greater Portland, that don’t put them in harm’s way. We can’t all be crazy, after all.
Email the author
Clayton Cameron: winds.up@gmail.com