Connective Corridors to Monticello

Charlottesville to Monticello & Beyond is a report I co-authored about re-connecting Charlottesville to Monticello for pedestrians and cyclists. The entry explores the core of the report: a comparison of four possible connective corridors. My deepest gratitude to my co-authors (Maura Harris, Caroline Herre, Joel Lehman, and Julie Murphy) whose ideas and language infuse this entry.



The practicum team and its advisors studied four corridors to connect Charlottesville to the Saunders-Monticello Trail based on City and County Comprehensive Plans, which are closely aligned on this subject. Although it is possible to get from source to destination using other routes, such as stream valleys, our analysis had to be finite and build upon our stakeholders’ previous consensus-building work. Our work focuses mainly on transportation corridors, while acknowledging that a truly comprehensive outcome will probably make other, more recreational connections, too.

For convenience, we named these corridors Routes A, B, C, and D.

Monticello Road Extended: Update

This project is about much more than transportation infrastructure.
Image courtesy Thomas Jefferson Foundation.

I can finally announce officially that I’m doing an independent study and thesis for my Masters program at UVa about restoring pedestrian and bicycle connectivity from Charlottesville to Monticello (and potentially beyond). Andrew Mondschein will be my advisor. Our goal is to produce a master plan that provides background, lays out the issues and suggests ways forward.

The first phase/ semester will identify issues and stakeholders, map the various spatialities (such as current conditions, land tenure, proposed routes and jurisdictions) and begin to locate resources and funding. I hope to recruit some help during the second semester as we look deeper at the challenges and suggest possible solutions.

I’ve already started the first part. I’ve had some great conversations with a variety of stakeholders and I’ve learned a great deal. For example, it’s now clear to me that this is a regional endeavor and interjurisdictional cooperation will be essential. There are many ideas on the table and various priorities that, while not mutually exclusive, need to be considered in concert so their goals can merge harmoniously. That is why I’m looking deeply at the spatial issues early in the process.

There will be some challenges with respect to infrastructure (i.e. an interstate is blocking the way) but a successful project will bring diverse parties to the table for a coherent, inclusive vision before it puts pen to paper. Only after exploring needs around heritage, connectivity, development, health and wellness can we start crafting solutions.

I find Chris Gensic’s plan to extend Monticello Road compelling, but it’s not the only solution. In fact, it could be argued that it might be better to follow Route 20 (connecting with Piedmont Community College along the way) or the Rivanna River. Maybe Monticello’s not even the final destination—wouldn’t it be cool to extend through Highland, Morven and deep into Albemarle County? Smart people are already working on these and its time to do so in concert.

Even if we decide to settle on the 19th Century route of Monticello Road, it raises the question: "Which 19th Century road to Monticello?"
Image courtesy Thomas Jefferson Foundation.

Similarly, this is an exciting time in which many are reexamining Thomas Jefferson’s legacy both locally and nationally. This project is about much more than a physical trail, but what do we mean when we talk about “reconnecting heritage?” What possibilities exist and what might that discovery process look like?

Not only will this project be profoundly beneficial to the community, it will be a powerful economic driver. That’s exciting but it’s reason for caution as well. This project is about equitable access to a World Heritage Site, but could it have the unintended result of eliminating nearby affordable housing? We’re not sure but we need to pay attention.

Those are just some of the issues and there’s clearly a lot to consider. I will not solve all of it (or maybe any of it) but I hope to create a conversation that coalesces a motivated a coalition to bring a compelling vision to reality.

I’ll keep you updated as the project moves forward.

Where are the Pictures?

As part of my coursework in Urban and Environmental Planning at the University of Virginia, I am performing a series of GIS (Geographic Information System) analyses of the Monticello Road project. GIS provides empirical data to check (or underscore) what intuition tells us. This is the second of a three-part meta analysis. Previous: Vanishing Landscapes | To Come: Backer Distribution

I often receive process questions about the project, especially as pertains to what parts of the neighborhood I photograph and I how I define the boundaries of the Monticello Road study area.

I typically answer that I consciously limit the project to the street and directly-adjacent properties and I believe that the images will be distributed throughout the length of the street—though not evenly, perhaps clustered around my home or a few places where I spend sedentary time. These responses are logical but not empirical. GIS analysis lets us answer the question with data.

Through the life of the project, I have captured thousands of images, which would have been overwhelming. One of the features of photography is that it not particularly relevant if an image is made; what matters is which images are seen.

I have a subset of selects (numbering in the low hundreds) that are used in the book and the frequent slideshows I present. That provides a further curation because it reflects both a photographer’s view of what is visually interesting and an editor’s view of what says something about the place. I refined my selection one more time by eliminating multiple images all taken at the same time (different people at the same party, for example). Through this process, I reduced the sample to 94 images, a highly manageable number, but enough for a meaningful analysis of a linear mile-long space.

About that View...

Two photos from the same spot, taken three years apart. Left: "The Park, 2012." Right "Belmont Steps subdivision, 2015."

As part of my coursework in Urban and Environmental Planning at the University of Virginia, I am performing a series of GIS (Geographic Information System) analyses of the Monticello Road project. GIS provides empirical data to check (or underscore) what intuition tells us. This is the first of a three-part meta analysis. Next: Picture Distribution | To Come: Backer Distribution

Although it is not the main purpose, the Monticello Road project provides undeniable (and sometimes wrenching) evidence of the ways the neighborhood changes over time. The above pairing is especially jarring. We know that frequent low-dose exposure to Nature is beneficial to health and well-being. I suspect that the same can be said of Heritage as well so its loss is something we notice.

When one of my colleagues saw the above photo, he was surprised to hear that the Neighborhood Association did not oppose the subdivision. In fact, there was nothing for them to say about it because it was done by-right, meaning the land-owner did not need anyone's permission as long as they stayed within the zoning regulations, which they did. Additionally, we say all the time that we like in-fill development (instead of sprawl) and this is what it looks like.

So although this kind of change is inevitable and possibly beneficial, we should not pretend that there is no cost. We know there is, but it is not quantifiable, which is a real liability when we consider the pocket full of financial statistics a developer will present.

GIS allows quantitative viewshed analysis and I thought it would be interesting to look at the cumulative effect of building upon the the landscape and heritage vistas in the neighborhood.

For reference, I chose the peak of Mont Alto, so beautifully framed in the photo above left.

Yard Dreams

Yard Dreams takes art out of the white box and into the streets—and yards—of Belmont. I will be one of fifteen 15 artists installing art in neighbors’ yards this for the weekend. The art will be on view 5 p.m. Friday to 5 p.m. Sunday, with a self-guided tour all weekend and a fun neighborhood potluck block party to celebrate the end of Summer on Saturday evening (3-9).

My piece, mending, tweaks two of my neighbors via perhaps the best-known poem in the American canon, Robert Frost’s Mending Wall. The two—both my friends—have a long list of grievances and have found that the best solution is not engage with one another at all. Sometimes that is the best idea, and it probably is in this case and a palisade fence now separates them.

Although the best-known phrase in the poem is “Good fences make good neighbors,” Frost clearly thinks otherwise and backs his claim by pointing out that Nature never allows a fence to stand for very long.

My piece, presented with the good-spirited cooperation of one of the neighbors in question, allows visitors to rearrange the words of that line to propose alternative approaches.

Interested in community engagement through the arts? This is what it looks like. Map, info at http://yarddreamspvcc.com/
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Unsorting America: an Encounter w Dr. Mindy Fullilove

Few issues are as vexing or worrisome as the accelerating process of social sorting that is un-knitting the American people. It’s everywhere—in our politics, school segregation (which has returned with a vengeance and in surprising ways) and in our settlement patterns, including otherwise progressive neighborhoods.

Its what I'm learning is a “wicked” problem—one that must be unraveled from many directions simultaneously while each effort affects the others. I was fortunate to hear Dr Mindy Thompson Fullilove speak on the issue, in which she laid the issue out in stark terms but also proposed a plausible path forward.

Cities + Nature

There's abundant nature where people live their daily lives but do they experience it? I took this shot during a vacant-lot safari with Sebastian at the corner of Monticello and Carlton Road, a block from our home.
As part of my professional development, I’m taking a class called Cities + Nature at the University of Virginia. It examines the importance of interaction with Nature and ways for planners to make it part of the everyday experience. This post is part of a series on the subject.

My professor invokes the notion of a Nature Pyramid to describe a practical diet of exposure to the Natural World. At the top, one finds rare but intense lifetime experiences such as a safari or a raft ride down the Grand Canyon; in the middle trips to state parks; further down daily or weekly rituals like gardening; and all the way at the bottom views through windows or even looking at art. When I worked in a downtown financial firm, the productive people all had flyers for cruises or postcards pinned to their cubicle walls so they could rest their eyes several times an hour. A pet or a houseplant serves a similar function.

From an urban planning perspective, it makes sense to focus on the bottom half of the ladder, seeking ways to improve the quantity and quality of experience in towns and neighborhoods where people spend most of their time. Do we hear birds or see butterflies? Smell flowers or leaf rot or a skunk’s nocturnal passage? Do possums cross our yard or robins nest in our porch? Can we see the sun rise or set or clouds pass overhead? Feel fresh breezes or crunch on a frosty path?

These are not man-on-cliff confrontations with the Sublime but through a lifetime they add up to a connection with something much larger than ourselves, a centering force that makes us better and healthier.

The Power of Weak Ties

There are many spaces along Monticello Road that are suitable for casual interactions.

I’ve just finished Richard Florida’s The Rise of the Creative Class and while I don't agree with everything he said one thing jumped out. About halfway through he offers a counterargument to Robert Putnam’s best-seller Bowling Alone. Putnam laments a loss of social capital in America as a result of less participation in civic and social groups like clubs and bowling leagues.

After arguing that it’s not even really happening—today’s kids are more likely, for example, to be in a soccer league than I was—Florida explores the possible benefits that come with shallow ties. That really got me thinking about my own project because I think it says a lot about why Monticello Road is such a great place.

Running and Place: a Conversation with Allan Steinfeld

Courtesy NYRR

Allan Steinfeld is the former race director of the New York City Marathon and president of New York Road Runners. I am fortunate to say that he is also a mentor and a friend. I had an email conversation with him about the relationship between running and sense of place, a few days prior to his induction into the NYRR Hall of Fame and the Marathon’s 44th running.

Peter: To know a place you must get out of the car, but when most people say that they’re usually thinking of walkers. How does one’s perspective about a place [neighborhood, park, road, etc] change as a runner, as opposed to walking, riding a bike or driving through it?

Allan: I believe that running in a place gives a new perspective of that place. By car or bike you go through it fast. Walking or running allows you to "feel" as well as see this environment and concentrate on your surroundings.

There’s doubtless a deeper appreciation but what about new, non-running, behaviors within the space such as trash-picking, social interaction or even safer driving?

Hopefully, all thee will occur.

Does the presence of runners change the place as well?

It certainly does. It gets its character from the runners like no other modality.