I don’t think the citizens of Portland, or any other American city, ever decided collectively to spread concrete and asphalt over half of whatever plot of God’s green earth they had settled on. And yet, that is what has happened, approximately, in every city. Looking back, it seems like it was a mistake. In most places there are only narrow sidewalks on which to walk, and the passing cars are always noisy, sometimes stinky, and occasionally dangerous. Yes, people stop to greet their neighbors, but they can’t stop for long. Sidewalks are noisy nasty spaces with nowhere to sit.
But walkable gravel streets are a different story. Cars can go down them, but if they do, they drive slowly. Neighbors take over the streets, pushing the green space into the gravel space. Here are a few pictures that I hope capture the livability and congeniality of unpaved streets.
Because the neighbors let their yards expand over the years, the unpaved streets have the feel of winding paths instead of highways:
These folks are raising chickens on what is probably technically a “street”. It’s not a problem. Cars can get by, and the neighbors can stop and look at the chickens.
There is natural generosity where people know their neighbors, and knowing neighbors starts with having a calm public walk-able, play-able, sit-able common space. This generously shared tomato garden is on land that would be covered with asphalt if the street were paved:
Some folks make donations to the public good, like this conversation space:
The line between street and garden breaks down, creating a feeling more like a park or a playground, than a traditional road.
A neighbor of mine, who has the good fortune to live on one of the unpaved roads, said she was disappointed when the city came by last year to smooth the various potholes. She said before, people drove very slowly, but after they filled the potholes, cars started speeding. Fortunately, the potholes are coming back again.