Predictability

 A topic I keep coming back to is the idea that good transit is not merely extensive, frequent, or fast--it is, specifically, predictable.

That is: the benefit of car travel is considered by most advocates to be some element of freedom to go where you want when you want. The way to create this freedom for transit users obviously includes extensiveness (get where you want) and frequency (you can go whenever you want), as well as speed (you don't give up a lot more of your time). But it also includes predictability: the legibility to the user of that intersection of extension, frequency, and speed. If I can't tell how to get the transit, where to get the transit, or how to use it to go where I want, I won't use it. I need to be able to predict how my transit experience will go (in a positive sense--if my prediction is that it's gonna suck, being right won't encourage me to take it again).

1. Visible Stops

Now, most major transit agencies in the world have done a pretty good job of making it clear where the transit goes. 

Maps help, especially ones posted publicly near where the transit is.

Visible stations and stops help too (even if no one is coming for these statues anytime soon). A line on a map is great, but not if I can't tell how to get on it.

This goes for bus stops too: a visible shelter or at least a good sized sign helps identify the transit's availability.

I emphasize this because, well, Davenport does a really bad job of it.

This is, in fact, a bus stop--in that it's a corner on a street a bus serves, and in Davenport that means I can get on or off here. But there's literally no signage for it.

Not great for being able to predict if I can use transit here!

2. Visible Lines

You know what's on that transit map besides the stops, though? The lines!

And the lines may not be printed on the ground, just like the first-down line on an NFL broadcast isn't on the field. But there are ways to make it more visible and predictable anyway--just like the markers on the sidelines still tell you where a first down is.

This is, of course, the great advantage of rails: they make the continuity and directions of transit predictable just by looking down.

 But as these lanes in Amsterdam prove, a transit lane can do this without the transit being tracked: buses run on them as well, and they're still predictable lines on the street because of the dedicated lane, even if the vehicle is a bus.

A tunnel can also do this, though only if you're underground to see it--the whole point is that it's not visible aboveground.

We don't use these tracks in Davenport for passengers, but if we did--we'd get that benefit too. Or we could do as the old trams did and slap rails down on River Dr, Mound St, Brady, Harrison, etc.

3. Obvious Interchanges

But it's not enough to know that there's transit: we also need it to be predictable how you'd use that transit to get places. This is one of the things I've mentioned that I think Montréal generally does well:

Note both the predicted times to each station and the well-marked interchanges at Bonaventure, Berri-UQAM, etc. 

Chicago's Loop is a great example of a very obvious interchange point in the system (even if Chicago would, in fact, benefit from more non-downtown transfer points).

And Paris does quite well by running a tramline directly by the front door of a RER station.

Ah, for a world where Davenport's Ground Transportation Center had more ground transportation options...

You could build a great system, and if no one can predict how the pieces work together, it won't function the way you want, no matter how quality an individual piece of it might be. So make your transit more predictable, and let the pieces operate in concert. 

But don't forget that this works best if it's also extensive, frequent, and fast. All of that works together to make a great system go.

The Goose Creek Connector: The Short-Sighted

 This is the third of three posts on the experience and design of the Goose Creek Connector, following up on the good and the bad of the implementation of the design. Today I want to talk about the elements of the Goose Creek Connector design that aren't misimplemented in terms of what they decided to do, but rather that to me fall short of a good idea in the actual design or planning. 

To be clear, all of these would be fixable in the future! But these are missed opportunities or strange choices that were made. I expect a number of them were made in order to deliver the project faster, cheaper, or at all; I'm not, in this, trying to criticize the designers of this project. They had to actually cost, plan, implement, and negotiate the details of this route, and I'm very glad that they did.

But there are, nevertheless, some points where I think the design could have used some improvement, and could be improved in the future.

1. What The Heck Is Going On Around Kimberly?

So far I've been burying a key part of the design here: the Goose Creek Connector doesn't actually fully connect.

What is going on here, folks? Suddenly we're in Sharrowland, with a vehicle parked across the sidewalk for those who might be using the path as pedestrians. 

And then, as noted last time, it becomes hard to find where you reconnect to the trail proper if you're on a bike (not, admittedly, if you're on foot). Was I supposed to be on the path already? Should I be sharrowsing the road? Who knows!

That's not even getting into the tight turns around Kimberly:

The route takes a 180 here to get to street level.

That, I'm not necessarily critiquing: land is very tight on a major corridor like the Eastern/Kimberly intersection, and the creek itself and the railroad have clearly taken most of the best ways through that aren't the road. The tight turns are necessary, unless you had complete eminent domain power to just bulldoze people's buildings (which would have created massive costs and resistance to the project, so don't do that!).

But the road/sidewalk section sucks. If it were a protected bike lane on the street, that would be one thing. Mississippi Ave is wide enough there: it has parking on one side even though the businesses all have giant parking lots, so if you could take that and make it instead a protected lane you could make this actually connect. Would it cost more? Yes, and I expect that (plus the kneejerk resistance to losing even minimally valuable parking) is why it wasn't done. But it would be a great way to futureproof this route, which right now has a glaring hole.

2. Lack of Intersections

I don't literally mean intersections here, in that I like the fact that you can do an uninterrupted ride from about 33rd to 59th. I mean that there are a lot of missed opportunities to make what is currently a great recreational trail into a great bike connector more generally. I'm not suggesting we should be at Houten, Netherlands-level bike functionality, where houses front on bike paths without a street in sight. But I am suggesting that it would be a great step forward if the new north-south trail had more access points for people to actually get on and off it, particularly from the housing and businesses that are so close to connecting.

Here, the trail splits to go under Kimberly and to intersect with the Kimberly sidewalk (which is its own issue, see below). But there's also a Walgreens literally right next to me as I take the shot: why can't that Walgreens have a connection directly to the trail, instead of looping around?

More broadly, there's a lot of stuff at that intersection, but to get to the Hy-Vee across the street you need to bike about a mile and a half around to the Duck Creek Trail, across Eastern Ave, and back up Spring St. instead of just...across the street. 

Not designed with bikes (or pedestrians) in mind. I also used the beg button here but had it skip 2 straight cycles, so I don't think it works...

Why couldn't these connections be improved?

Likewise, these apartments back onto the trail--why not have a connection?

Now, some of this was outside of the designers' hands (they don't own that apartment complex!) and some would be challenging for political planning reasons (messing with lights/bike lanes around or on Eastern and Kimberly). But that doesn't make them not missed opportunities; it just means that I can see why they are currently missed. I hope they improve; it would be cool to see a path with a gate instead of just a fence at the apartment complexes, for instance. 

3. The Sidewalk Problem

Look, I know I harp on sidewalks a lot. But seriously: make up your mind if you're designing a big sidewalk or an actual mixed-use trail that you expect non-pedestrians to use. And then remember that you're definitely doing the latter, since you literally put bike signage on the trail.

And then stop terminating the exits from the trail onto pure sidewalks--both in terms of the legality of biking on the sidewalk and terms of sheer width. The path itself is a nice width for bikes and pedestrians to coexist. The sidewalks they deliver you to are not.

And sometimes those sidewalks just end themselves: Kimberly doesn't really have any, for instance, except the bit used for the trail itself.

Again, I see why this happens: dumping pedestrians into the street is bad, and the cost would skyrocket to redo all the sidewalks into full paths as well (though Bettendorf has a lot of those, so there's local precedent at least). 

But dang if it doesn't meant that you can't really use the connector for anything much besides driving from end to end: the places it delivers you in the middle are either not well connected to the path (see #2) or only accessible on foot.

It's great for recreation, in other words, if all you're doing is biking a long distance along the path. But as soon as you want to use it mid-path or to actually get somewhere, it doesn't work nearly as well. Short-sighted, in other words, though not necessarily bad.

And all of this is definitely improvable--if and only if we actually decide to do it.

The Goose Creek Connector: The Bad

 This is the second in my series on the Goose Creek Connector, following up on the good last week.

I liked biking the Goose Creek Connector but there are some ways in which it is not well-implemented, and I wanted to talk a bit about those today.

1. Signage

Quick quiz: where is this?

The only sign you see in the picture is an (already damaged??) bikes-go-downhill sign. There's a small stop sign just out of frame to the right. What there aren't are trail markers, that would tell you where the two dividing sides of the trail go, or a marker on the bridge to tell you what road you're about to go under.

Here's a better view of another fork in the road with absolutely no guidance. 

And this isn't just abstract: I kind of figured I had passed 53rd St. at some point, but the first time I had an actual piece of official guidance of where I was was when I was suddenly dumped out on the sidewalks by 59th St. and could see the regular road signs.

The Duck Creek Trail itself has signs in most places where the road splits off--why doesn't the Goose Creek Connector? 

2. Maintenance

Let's zoom in on that already damaged sign above. That's not a great, well, sign for the trail. And there are other spots where this brand-new trail is already showing signs of less than optimal maintenance.

This is already overgrown to the point where I had to slightly swerve out of the way to avoid hitting the grass on my return trip.

This might, optimistically, be a sign of maintenance happening, but the fact that, again, the week it opened it was already having "sidewalk closed" signs prepared to deal with overgrowth is not ideal.

We'll get to whether this is a sidewalk at all next week.

Basically, I continue to worry about the ongoing state of maintaining, rather than simply opening, this trail--especially when (not if) the low-lying parts flood.

3. Getting Off It

This is where we start almost sliding towards next week's theme of what is short-sighted in the design here. We'll talk about where the trail goes and what opportunities it might miss elsewhere. Right now, I want to focus on this:

Great, the bike route ends. Where the heck am I? What am I supposed to do with the bike I'm on? I don't love trails that dead-end into parking lots, but at least those are clearly intended for people who bike to the trail--not me, but a defined population of people, many of whom use our trails. But this? Bikes are allowed on multi-use trails and paths in Iowa, but otherwise they're vehicles. Legally, they belong in the road.

And this doesn't deliver them to the road. Even if we assume that the bike route ends at the sidewalk, not the sign, there isn't a curb cut there--there is one a bit down the street, but it's not exactly well-designed to get bikes on and off the sidewalk to the trail.

The opposite problem happens just north of Kimberly, where the trail briefly detours into the street (more on that next week) but the signage is only in one direction for getting back on the trail? You can see the back of the sign, but there's nothing from this direction that tells you the trail is going to the left. You're just on either the street or the path (unclear directions on which is the trail coming from the south) and then you have to notice that the trail is going off--otherwise you're right into Eastern Avenue.

Why make this trail so hard to legally get on and off? Why not sign (see #1) more clearly? 

These are not insurmountable problems, and they're not hard to solve either. A few additional signs, a curb cut or two, and some consistent repair and mowing would do it. I'm hopeful that these are just growing pains and we'll see the Goose Creek Connector being well taken care of and well-marked going forward. It just isn't quite there yet.

The Goose Creek Connector: The Good

So the Goose Creek Connector opened recently, and I decided it was worth biking on it and evaluating it as a significant piece of new bike infrastructure here in the QCA. 

It was a very pleasant ride, and I'm going to share my thoughts on the new trail in a three-part series, this being the first.

And because it is the first, I want to start positive, so here we have the good! Check back in for the bad (things that weren't implemented as well as they could be) and the short-sighted (things that were implemented as designed, but designed less than ideally for the future) the next two Sundays.

As I said, it was a good ride, so let's start there:

1. The Ride Experience

The Goose Creek Connector trail is a great trail for recreational cycling: the physical experience is excellent. I mentioned in my prior post that I was hoping that they'd improved the feel, because when it wasn't fully open parts of it felt bumpy. I'm happy to report that I had no such problems this time, and it felt much smoother--as it should, as completely new trail infrastructure!

It's smooth, mostly straight (but not so straight that people get going at ridiculously fast speeds or anything), and generally wide enough to pass two people walking or riding abreast.

The curves are generally pretty easy to navigate--the only places where there are hairpin-type turns are by the Kimberly Rd interchange--and even there the other elements of the design make it easy to tell you're going to have to slow down well before the turn. It was, frankly, a great ride, and I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

That's a really good thing. That might seem obvious, but I have definitely ridden new bike infrastructure in cities that did not provide a pleasant riding experience. This is one.

2. Completely New Angles on the City

Another really positive element of the new connector is that, because it angles through land that really hasn't been developed or used before along Goose Creek, it opens up a completely new angle on the city.

The back country, so to speak, has been largely inaccessible--a significant section is on the unused (and in some cases unusable) back-end of cemeteries, for instance--and the fact that you can now see these places is very cool.

Then there are things like this big soybean farm that you might not even realize were in Davenport proper until you bike by them. 

More metaphorically, the existence of such a connection that never previously existed opens up new angles on the city as a cyclist. My dad biked from his house to ours--something that was technically possible before but deeply unpleasant, and now can actually be done reasonably. I was able to get to 59th St from Duck Creek Park in about 15 minutes--something that would have taken much longer before, not to mention being almost entirely street riding with cars. It makes Davenport much more open to the cyclist, and much more pleasant to experience.

3. The Views

Relatedly, it's just a gorgeous experience to bike on this trail. I list this separately because you could have gorgeous views that aren't new angles on the city or that are unpleasant to bike along--think the current mess in downtown by the river where they're building the new Main Street Landing and have disrupted the bike trail. The bike experience is thus worse, and there's been bike access there forever, but it's still really pretty.

Here the experience is both new and pleasant--and the views are still pretty.

You can probably already tell that from the pictures above, but here are a few more.

Even the bits that are mostly pavement have nice trees and greenery.

The properties you back on are pretty too--nice fountain, apartment complex!

In all honesty the pictures don't do it justice. Partly that's the nature of foregrounding the trail in the pictures, but also I was busy enjoying the views rather than always taking pictures of them.

Trust me on this: it's a gorgeous ride, and you're in tree cover almost all the way. As someone who does not always enjoy the physical beauty of Davenport, this trail is a great advertisement for how pretty the city can be.

I'll be back next week with quibbles and concerns--some even featuring these same pictures--but for now let's end on a happy note: this was a lovely ride, and I am very excited that the Goose Creek Connector exists!

Welcome the Connector!

 This post is just to say that hey, it's pretty cool that Davenport has finally connected the trails in the north to the main trail along Duck Creek. 

I'm hoping to ride it soon and have more to say--last time I tried, it didn't go so well.

To be fair, they weren't kidding that it wasn't open!

I do hope they've fixed little glitches like this single square of concrete that for some reason hadn't gotten laid.

And the fact that this section was bumpy as hell even though it was supposedly newly laid.

And let's all hope they keep up the underpasses better than the Duck Creek Trail itself sometimes gets.

But overall--congrats to the Davenport Public Works and here's to even more ambitious plans that help connect our bicycling infrastructure in the QCA!

QCA Survey

 No post midweek this week, except: take this survey if you're in the QCA to tell our transit agencies what they should prioritize!

Integrating Water

 Here in the QCA we have rather a lot of water, most of it contained within the Mississippi River. Most human settlements have water, of course. That's kind of a necessity for survival after all. But today I wanted to talk about how we integrate that water into the life of a city--and how we don't.

1. People On The Water

One of the most obvious ways a city can integrate the water into its life is to actually put life on the water.

Hello kayakers! Hello architecture cruise! Chicago's river is both central and small enough that you can have significant people on the river and not interrupt the rest of day to day life. There's stuff to do and see from the water, but also the water isn't taking up too much of the city--it's on a human scale in the way that the Mississippi isn't always. 

If you can make the water part of the life of the city by putting people on it, it becomes more of an amenity than a barrier. 

2. Cross It

Another very obvious technique is to cross it. That picture above is from a bridge, so these can clearly co-exist.

We do this in the QCA, obviously, and we're talking about other ways to do it. But we don't do it a lot.

And we don't do it in people-friendly ways. Now, a pedestrian/bike-only new construction over the Mississippi is indubitably a pipe dream--but it would be nice to have crossings that were pleasant for pedestrians. Even if you count the new I-74 bridge (which I don't, since it's a very windy, long experience) the other bridges in the area treat pedestrian or bike traffic as at best an afterthought.

Something like the Millennium Bridge above is unlikely. But conversion of a current bridge when replaced, or making sure that the new Centennial Bridge is actually decent to walk or bike across, would make a big difference.

3. Admire from the Edge

Of course, the other main way we integrate water into cities is the waterfront. 

This is perhaps easier where there's a beach.

But there doesn't have to be a beach. We do have some nice biking trails on the river here (see above). And there's a big push in Davenport to make the waterfront more attractive. This is probably the one we both do best and have the best potential for--though I'm still skeptical that "Main Street Landing" will survive the first big flood.

Letting people exist near the mightiest river in the USA (deal with it Missouri) is a good start. But maybe we can, in the future, work on getting more people onto and over the river as well.

Bike Commuting Continued: Expectations vs. Reality

 After a couple years now of biking to work (most days) in the Quad Cities, I have a few thoughts I'd like to share on the idea of expectations versus reality: both where my expectations have been positively exceeded and where they've been underwhelmed. Overall, I enjoy commuting by bike, but there are specific things that make that possible for me, and I'll try to make it clear how that works or doesn't in what comes below.

1. Easier Than Anticipated

Overall, I would say that using a bike as my primary mode of commute this year has been much easier than I anticipated. I'm not going to pretend that our infrastructure here in the Quad Cities is great for bikes--it sucked significantly that the city took weeks-to-months to redo the bike underpass under Harrison--but for the ~1 mile distance I'm usually riding (5 miles roundtrip including two school dropoffs, but 1 mile-ish straight line to work) it's more than adequate.

This guy can do a bunch of roundtrips on one charge, as can my other main cargo bike, and as you can see from the bulging saddlebags, I don't have any difficulty either taking what I need to work and back or stopping for an errand or two. Obviously it's not in child-carrying mode in this photo, but that works just fine too. 

Are there days I need to use the car? Yes, because sometimes I'm taking the kids to the dentist across town or meeting my partner in Illinois or something. But for everyday commuting and normal errands within the neighborhood and just outside of it, the bikes work great. And the kids even demand them: we went to the library and the grocery store this week and I offered them bike or car and we ended up on the bike. It's a treat for school dropoff too, because we can skip the car line but not go as slowly as we would walking. And then I get to work energized and can park the bike right next to the building I work in, so really it's a good deal in the mornings.

2. Roads Are Worse But It Matters Less

The roads here are worse than I expected for the bike (I've had multiple blown tires from that!) but they matter less than I expected for the experience. Why? Because for all their faults, most QCA roads are wide. Here's a section of Locust (not actually on my route, and the photo is taken from the sidewalk which I don't bike on, but it should suffice to stand in).

The road isn't in great shape, but this is actually one of the less bad sections. I'd call it serviceable: if you were actually biking on it you'd notice a lot of little bumps and ridges, but big cargo bike tires take care of that just fine. The street is way wider than it needs to be here, to the point where it's probably too wide for the speed that cars are supposed to take (25 mph, there's a school right there). But while that makes speeding cars a danger, it also means that there's plenty of space in the lane and even out of it for cars to pass you on the bike. 

This is typical of the QCA biking environment. It's not great, because no cars expect you there and the roads aren't good for biking on. But it's not horrific, because they're wide enough to make up for that in most instances. Now, if you biked here at the absolute height of rush hour, or during the infinite construction season that sometimes narrows those wide roads, there would be more bike-car interactions (derogatory) but for most purposes it actually works out.

3. Lessened Flexibility In Surprising Ways

I knew that I would need the car for things like getting to Moline or Bettendorf from Davenport. I hadn't quite realized how much I would need it (or need to plan ahead) for smaller trips as well. I know I said above that it works great for errands around and just outside the neighborhood, and I stand by that! But it requires a bit more planning ahead than perhaps I was used to. If it's going to take 10 minutes instead of 5 to get home or to work, or 15 minutes instead of 7 to get my kid from school, I've learned that I'm evidently the sort of person who leaves that to the exact required margin--and thus changing the margin has made a surprisingly large impact on my time.

If I were a person who believed that on time was late, perhaps this would not be such an issue.

This is a fast vehicle compared to my own legs walking or acoustic cycling. It is a slower one compared to a car. 

Now, there are still times I've surprised myself by how quickly I can get from place to place, especially when there's construction on a main road (which I tend to avoid on the bike anyway) or problems with parking (rare in the QCA but possible, and the bike tends to have an advantage). But by and large commuting via bike requires just that little bit more planning ahead and awareness of time--even when I can leave a virtual meeting, much less one in person--and that's something I somehow hadn't anticipated.

Have you commuted by bike, here or elsewhere? What does it change about your routine, and how did it live up to your expectations?

Who Runs the Transit?

 This article made me think about the question of how best to organize our local transit agencies here in the QCA for better service. Or, more specifically, what lessons we can take from other places about how to manage transit across multiple kinds of internal legal divisions: municipal, county, state, geographic. After all, the Quad Cities has (more than) four cities, by definition, as well as a state boundary that happens to be a major, wide river in the midst of everything.

But we are not the only place to have such boundaries, even if the Mississippi is a particularly large river. So what can we learn from others?

1. Collective Decision-making

The biggest lesson is that the more we make local decisions about a collective problem (how to move people around the area) the more problems we'll have. When Rock Island decides to make it harder to open shelters because they want to "spread services more evenly across the region," but does so unilaterally, we just end up with less services. The same goes for transit. 

Good transit services, like ThamesLink above, cut across administrative boundaries to provide service that will serve the people who live there regardless of their particularized municipal or regional government. What does that mean here in the QCA? It means not making Bettendorf Transit decisions for Bettendorf and CitiBus decisions for Davenport, or Iowa decisions for Iowa and Illinois decisions for Illinois, but making regional decisions based on populations and potential trips. If a bunch of Iowans work at the Arsenal, or John Deere, we should probably have transit that helps them get there. If a bunch of Illini work at Arconic, same deal--not to mention the two downtowns with their distinct cultural and social amenities.

2. Unify Agencies

More than collective decisions, there's also a collective action issue. You could argue that we actually have some decent collective decision-making here: there's one agency on the Illinois side, and it technically manages the Bettendorf Transit as well, and the Davenport transit connects to it. But the connections are clunky and they happen inconveniently by city boundaries rather than in logical places for a line to actually start or end. 

Just like the TTC used to end awkwardly around the boundaries of Toronto but now emerges into the Greater Toronto Area where it makes sense, it would make a lot more sense to have a single line running down Locust/Middle Road than to have to get off and transfer in a literal Burlington Coat Factory parking lot.

There is a 1-Line TTC stop right on the Vaughan/Toronto (North York) line, but it's not the end of the line or a transfer point; it's just there because there are meaningful things to go to. Similarly, there should still be a stop near I-74 and Middle Road/Locust, but it shouldn't be where the lines stop and force a transfer. 

The fix for this, ideally, is a unified agency (ala the TTC, TfL, WMATA) that runs transit with regard to where the people need to go and not where the city lines sit. 

The DC Metro would be a lot less useful if it only went to the boundaries of DC.

3. Meaningful Transit for an Integrated Community

Of course, the secret background lesson here is that all of these communities run more transit (even per capita) than we do here. And I'm not advocating for DC/London/Toronto levels of transit here in the Quad Cities! But if you want people to unite together to make a collective community, you need to make it not just possible but easy for them to get around.

In a way, the Mississippi could even be a major blessing here, paradoxically because it is so annoying to cross. We only have three main crossings (plus the I-80 Bridge out in LeClaire), which funnels traffic across them and creates major issues when one or more are shut, e.g. for a race. It's hard to put a lot of cars between the two sides of the river, and there's a reason that I meet people who (say they) never go across the river if they can help it.

But mass transit thrives in a situation where a lot of people want to get from one place to another across a narrow channel. 

If we truly integrated our transit, we could make it the easiest and best way to get from one side to the other, and knit the community together.

I'm not advocating for a Blackfriars Station-style bridge-as-transit-station (above) but wouldn't it be cool?

And more to the point, it's a good example that a river doesn't have to mean bad transit connections. In fact, it can mean that people gravitate towards transit, because it makes getting past that barrier easier.

I know this likely seems idealistic, since we haven't managed this in 190 years of having Davenport on the opposite side from Rock Island. But there's no reason we couldn't, if we take the lesson of not dividing our transit and letting it instead tie us together.