Richmond
VA (September 2007 -- )
I move to Richmond VA in September 2007
after living for over 20 years in Florida – the longest time I have ever lived
in one place in my life.
In no time at all, I start learning
of the joys and sorrows of this magnificently historic city.
First, I regretfully report the urban
design blunders I have observed.
One-Way Streets. Never in my life, in all of the
cities I have visited, have I seen as many one-way streets as I now see in
Richmond. It is both astonishing and disastrous. Initially installed to quickly
and cheaply add capacity and speed to downtown streets, one-way streets are now
being converted back to two-way operation by cities across the nation. Why?
Because one-way streets tend to deliver quite a large number of problems. Most
importantly, one-way streets induce high levels of inattentive, reckless,
impatient, speeding travel behavior by motorists. Such misbehaving travel
manners causes a number of residences and smaller businesses to abandon the
street. Pedestrians become more scarce because the street is now so hostile and
unsafe. By losing residences and shops, one-way streets often see property
values plummet and typically become vacant “no-man’s-lands” that encourage
further declines in pedestrian activity because the walk becomes so
unrewarding. One-way streets also create inconvenience problems for bicyclists
and motorists, because they significantly increase the need to backtrack or
travel longer distances than would be necessary on two-way streets. In
particular, one-ways are an enormous headache for out-of-towners, who often are
surprised by a street being one-way, and end up getting lost or frustrated.
Compounding the problem is that many of Richmond’s downtown streets have too
many travel lanes, which also induces speeding and hostile, car-only travel.
The one-way streets must incrementally be converted back to two-way operation
if this City expects to restore healthy conditions for residential, retail and
pedestrian life in its downtown. Coupled with this, streets with more than
three lanes must incrementally be put on a “road diet” so that travel lanes and
turn lanes are removed.
Off-Street Surface Parking. Walking in downtown Richmond, one
quickly notices that off-street parking lots are seemingly everywhere. Much of
the downtown seems more like a lunar landscape than a city. There seems, in
other words, to be plenty of affordable housing for cars in Richmond. But there
is no “there there.” It is apparent that in the past, at least, local
government and local businesses decided that abundant off-street parking is essential
for downtown health. Nothing could be further from the truth. For downtowns to
successfully compete with the suburbs, it must leverage its strengths. Those
strengths center on compact, walkable, activated, rewarding streets. Ruinously,
off-street parking destroys this leverage for a downtown. It creates
gap-toothed dead zones and interrupts the fabric created by active, interesting
buildings. Surface parking creates unsafe places that take away from the “sense
of enclosure” which provides comfort for pedestrians. To be healthy, a downtown
needs to benefit from “agglomeration economies” (a compact concentration of
retail, office, jobs, residences and civic buildings). Surface parking diffuses
this needed grouping, and thereby deadens and sickens a downtown. In downtowns,
the pedestrian is the design imperative. Nothing undercuts the needs of the
downtown pedestrian more than surface parking. Most or all off-street parking,
particularly the parking fronting streets and buildings and intersections, needs
to be incrementally replaced by active, proud buildings.
Beltway Interstates. Downtown Richmond is surrounded by
a monster beltway of interstate highways. As is the case for nearly all
beltways around cities, the Richmond beltway has significantly contributed to
the draining of retail, office, residential and civic energy from its downtown.
Gigantic, hugely expensive downtown overpasses in Richmond are emblematic of
The Car is King syndrome killing cities
throughout the nation. In particular, the overpasses passing over the historic
train station is a perfect symbol of how the City has let the car overtake the
train. Overpasses, like surface parking, are powerful creators of downtown dead
zones. Like beltways, overpasses suck energy out of a downtown. Over time, the
beltways and overpasses need to be removed and converted back to more livable
surface boulevards and streets as a way to restore more of the former
traditional glory of Richmond.
Cobblestone Streets. Richmond is sitting on top of a
priceless goldmine, whether it knows it or not. A great many of the streets in
its older, historic neighborhoods have been paved over. Asphalt now hides
underlying cobblestone and brick on numerous streets. Uncovering these streets,
as has been done in Orlando FL, would add immeasurably to the romantic,
human-scaled charm of these neighborhoods, and result in a significant increase
in property values. In addition, doing so would make neighborhoods
substantially safer and more livable as the brick and cobblestone would reduce
car speeds. While the initial cost is high, on-going maintenance costs for
brick and cobblestone are lower than for asphalt streets.
There are reasons to love Richmond.
Historic, Traditional Walkability. Richmond is a city exceptionally
rich in history. Monument Avenue, regularly rated one of the best boulevards in
the nation, is graced with an incredible number of magnificent, awe-inspiring
monuments of many of the great people in its past. Everywhere I look, there is
a plaque informing us of a monumental historic event that “occurred at this
site.” In particular, the historic, traditional Museum District and Fan
District rowhouse neighborhoods to the west of downtown retain their delightful
charm.
James River. The James River is a wonderful, fun-filled
asset that Richmond is justly proud of. Indeed, the location of the James means
that Richmond has the only downtown in North America which has a whitewater
river passing through it. Several Class II, III and IV rapids are found along
Richmond sections of the James, which provides wild-eyed enjoyment for
whitewater enthusiasts, and there are countless bicycle and hiking trails,
islands and parks along both sides of the James in Richmond.
Not having ever sampled the James on
my (inappropriate) sit-on-top kayak before, I am eager to check it out. I put
in at a very nicely appointed put-in point (complete with a very nice wooden
stair slide for kayaks and canoes) at the Huguenot Flatwater area, and proceed
upstream on a rather wide river channel. Due to a long drought, the water is
unusually clear and quite shallow. I soon notice that there are a lot less fish
in the James than the spring-fed Florida rivers I am used to paddling. And the
drought means that my kayak is often scrapping over large boulders.
Nevertheless, due to satisfactory lines I select, I manage to paddle up to the
Bosher’s Dam, where a 10-foot waterfall gushes over the dam wall. I then paddle
downstream to the “Z” dam near Williams Island. Here, a portage trail is
provided to allow canoeists and kayakers to get past the dam. Downstream of the
dam, I again find extremely shallow water which my kayak scrapes and strains
over as I try to negotiate around and over the flattened boulders jutting out
of the river. I then approach a series of Class II and III rapids. With zero
experience in whitewater kayaking, in a kayak that is designed for surf and
flatwater, and completely inappropriate for whitewater, I am now faced with a
choice: Do I recklessly attempt to navigate some of these rapids, despite my
boat, my inexperience, and my complete lack of knowledge of what is ahead of
me? I very tentatively approach a rapid that seems relatively tame. Do I dare?
No, it is too crazy. I turn back upstream. But my thoughts return to the
potential exhilarating sensation of shooting the rapid. Do I dare? No, I turn
back again -- particularly because the rapids are lined with people enjoying
themselves in the sun, and it would be utterly humiliating for a novice Florida
flatwater kayaker like me to be unceremoniously dumped like a unskilled moron
into the water.
But the temptation is just too
powerful. On my third approach, I throw caution to the wind and forcefully dig
in my paddle, purposefully yet still a bit unnerved, heading for what may be my
doom.
Miraculously, my Necky kayak nimbly
zips through the rapid. Not to brag, but I believe I (falsely) created the
impression to those fearsome on-lookers that I was an old pro at this as I
guided my way through with deft paddling. Piece of cake…
Whitewater Kayak Clinic. Eager to sample the adrenalin rush
of whitewater kayaking, I sign up for a two-day whitewater kayaking beginner
class offered through Chesterfield County. We arrive on our first day at Dutch
Gap, with the city power plant looming above us (the plant emits cooling tower
water into the James at this location, which means we are to learn our new
whitewater skills in 95-degree bathwater).
We fit ourselves into our borrowed
boats. I smugly bring along my own whitewater kayak. But then learn I am too
big to fit into a boat I’ve never used before. I post it for sale later that
night…
Learning skills on the first day was
enormously helpful and confidence-building. I successfully learn how to “wet
exit” (a skill that enables one, thankfully, to safely be inverted in a
whitewater situation without needing to roll back to upright position). I also
learn the “T-Rescue,” which enables one to be uprighted by a rescue kayak
without filling your kayak with water.
I must admit, however, that sitting
upside down underwater while inside a kayak cockpit is somewhat disconcerting
as one must whack the sides of the kayak to signal inversion, then sweep ones
hands back and forth on the sides of the kayak to feel for a rescue boat.
Fortunately, as a certified diver, the exercise is reasonably tolerable.
On this first day, we also learn
whitewater paddle strokes, how to read a river and find a proper line, a rescue
rope toss and retrieve, paddle signals, and staying upright. Overall, an
enjoyable day with enjoyable, non-whiner classmates (one of whom had the
entertaining habit of always doing a 360 degree turn when paddling through
rapids). We also break up into teams and play the “dead fish” game, which has
us tossing a wet sponge to teammates in an effort to score goals (the “goals”
consist of paddles on the shore).
Our second day is to be on the James
River rapids themselves. We have been taught quite a bit on our first day. My
poor memory therefore has lots to remember, and I’m well aware of the sometimes
treacherous nature of the James River rapids. That night, I must admit, I feel
a fair amount of anxiety as I think about the likelihood of being tossed and
submerged in churning rapids. Will I be rescued? Will I remember all of my
skills? Will I make a fool out of myself? My night is mostly spent tossing and
turning in bed. Little of the night consists of sleep.
We are given some “dry land”
instruction out on the river rocks. We must negotiate eddies. And rapids. And
kayak quite a ways. In a boat that refuses to hold a straight line (whitewater
kayaks are designed to turn on a dime, which means they are nearly impossible
to paddle in a straight line without some determined, skilled effort).
The group of eight of us successfully
paddle to eddies and through rapids and over small waterfalls. One guy in our
group consistently ends up, unintentionally, as our “probe” (the kayaker who
leads the way for the others).
In the rapids, I learn to surf waves.
Observing others before me, I am struck by what looks like an impossible feat:
remaining stationary while pointing the kayak upstream in the middle of
strongly rushing waves. I give it a try with an instructor, and somehow manage
to “rudder” my paddle for a few brief seconds of triumphant surfing. Back for
my second try, I quickly get the knack of it and find myself gleefully surfing
for a few minutes. “I could do this all day,” I say as I return to our nearby
eddy.
Near the end, our instructor informs
us that paddling into the “wave train” in front of us can be wild and tricky.
As a sensation seeker, I cannot resist. I paddle headlong into the train.
Within seconds, my kayak flips me upside down (“it is not IF you will flip in a
whitewater kayak, it is WHEN”). As a rookie, I quickly decide I’m not going to
wait on a rescue, so I foolishly perform a wet exit to get out. As I emerge, I
am told that the “T-Rescue” was there to save me. Next time, I won’t make this
mistake again, as the process of getting to shore, emptying water out of the
kayak, and getting back into the boat is an inconvenience.
At the end of this second day, we are
a group of eight happy new whitewater kayakers who are better skilled and have
somehow survived the mighty James. I believe we are all eager to return. I’ve
already marked the dates on my calendar for future trips…
Carytown. For an urbanist such as myself,
“Carytown” is a real treat. Carytown is a vibrant, pedestrian-filled shopping
street found along Cary Street on the south side of the Museum District. The
street is packed with interesting, diverse shops and restaurants. Carytown
seems to be teeming with people day and night. On East Cary Street in Shokoe
Slip downtown, Cary Street is a romantic, charming, historic cobblestone
street. With shops pulled up to the sidewalk, the relatively narrow Cary Street in this part of the city is a real
treat. The only downside to an otherwise fabulous scene is that Cary Street is
one-way, which creates high levels of speeding traffic in the Museum and Fan
districts, and a street that is unsafe for bicyclists and unpleasant for the
many pedestrians. Carytown, therefore, is wonderful IN SPITE OF the one-way
Cary Street.
Restaurants and Festivals. One of the most noteworthy benefits
I have had the pleasure of experiencing in Richmond is the dizzying number of
festivals and other outdoor events. Each weekend, there seems to be four or
five Seafood Festivals, Folk Festivals, Ethnic Festivals, Sporting Festivals,
etc. in town. I have also immensely enjoyed the unusually large number of
quality restaurants in Richmond. Among my favorites so far:
Mama Zu’s.
Legends Brewpub.
Kuba Kuba.
Europa.
Penny Lane.
Perlys Diner.
Can Can.
Semsi.
27.
Hill Café.
Havanna.
Hardshell.
Captain Buzzies Café.
Bin 22 wine bar.
Capital Ale House.
I am "initiated" into the
Hanover Avenue Halloween debauchery here in Richmond. It is an annual
spectacle.
WOW.
I was a virgin with this festive
event until the night of October 31, 2007. Never in my wildest dreams did I
suspect that "Hanover Avenue Halloween" would be so...crazy. It is a
bizarre circus of madness and fun.
In the days before Halloween, I'd
been noticing that there seemed to be an unusual number of houses putting up
Halloween decorations, and concluding that Richmond residents are unusually
obsessed about Halloween (more so than I had ever seen in a community in the
past). But on Halloween night, my wife and I are invited to join some people to
walk Hanover in the Fan District.
I am completely ASTONISHED!
It seems as if every single house for
5-6 blocks has spent MONTHS preparing all manner of crazy, impressive
"spook" decorations to fill yards and house facades with lights,
strobes, cobwebs, giant spiders, flying bats, nooses, gravestones, mutilated
bodies, ghosts and goblins. My suspicion is that neighbors, over the years,
have become competitive. It seems like they are all trying to out-do each
other, and I loved their trying to do so!
Maureen and I, dressed as “Mo Ho” and
“Pimp Dom” to be suitable for the “House of Ill Repute” theme party we attend
prior to Hanover, keep turning to each other saying: "This is
unbelievable!" as we walk Hanover on this especially spooky night.
It seems that most all of the
"serious" Halloween-ers in Richmond go to this event on Hanover. The
streets and sidewalks are jammed with trick-or-treaters, and people in bizarre,
clever costumes. Happily, it has become such a festive, crowded event that the
City finds it necessary to close off the streets to traffic to allow the partying
Draculas and Witches to safely go wild in the middle of the streets. Streets
criss-crossed with ghosts, spooks and spiders hanging from sidewalk to
sidewalk.
A good number of homes have Halloween
plays and dramas being acted out in their front yards and porches. My favorite
on this night is a Batman theme complete with loud Batman music, a mock
Bat-mobile and Bat-motorcycle and characters dressed to play their roles as
Joker, Boy Wonder, etc. Also ghoulishly good is a guy with a noose around his
neck who is somehow swinging back and forth as if he really IS hanging.
My hat is off to the pumpkin carving
I see in Richmond. Several of the Jack-o-Lanterns must take months of
painstaking carving to have been created, given the incredibly intricate
patterns on display.
I had thought I had been to some wild
parades and street festivals and holiday-decorating events in the past. But
this event put them all to shame. One has to see and experience this event to
believe it. Mardi Gras has nothing on this.
We have so much fun on this Halloween
night that we vow to attend every year in the future. I hope this tradition
continues indefinitely...
We need to start planning our
costumes and decorations NOW, so that we are not shamed by our neighbors next
year...
Our rowhouse apartment is a few
blocks from Carytown.
On New Years Eve,
December 31, 2007, Cary Street is closed to car traffic for 8 or 9 blocks. By
11 pm, the street is packed with people. It is, by far, the biggest
crowd I had ever been a part of for New Year's Eve. Revelers squeeze in like
sardines from curb to curb from Byrd Theatre to the big-city brasserie
named Can Can.
The Byrd Theatre -- built in
1928 -- is a magnificent historic theatre that is impressively ornate inside.
There is a balcony and theater boxes overlooking the auditorium below. On
Saturday evenings, a Wurlitzer organ, which once accompanied silent movies, is
played. The organ player and his Wurlitzer slowly makes an appearance as a
riser lifts him up from below stage level. The audience can sing along to the
songs played—the words are displayed on the screen. The staff dresses in 1920s
clothing. Second-run movies are shown here daily. Admission is $1.99.
As Jim Kunstler once said when he sat
inside such a theatre a few years ago, it is a tragic indictment that our
contemporary society is completely incapable of creating such a building today.
Civic pride, as a result, withers.
Our buildings and communities are no longer much worth caring about because
such places are nearly extinct.
As you can see from the photo, the Richmond New Year's Eve spectacle on this
night stretches for a number of blocks. As a point of reference, I am about one
block down the street in what is a 20,000-person sea of crazed humanity.
It is a chilly night. I am ready to
go home at about 10 pm because I am so uncomfortable (20 years in FL does that
to a person). Fortunately, our place is only 4 blocks from Cary so I just walk
home, put on some fleece and gloves, and walk back (ground zero for the
celebration is a 5-minute walk from our place).
As I stand facing the
live entertainment stage, I find I barely have room to breath, and occasionally
feel my feet lifted off the street as the crush of bodies surges back and
forth. A fair number of fights break out -- inevitable when you have people
trying to push their way through a sardine crowd to get somewhere, and are
inadvertently elbowing folks. I watch with a mixture of amusement and
trepidation as police “platoons” periodically try to quickly squeeze through
the jam to reach a fistfight.
A few moments before midnight, the
stage emcee shouts out the remaining few seconds of 2007. As the clock strikes
twelve, the 20,000 erupt in a delirious, joyful celebration that 2008 has
arrived.
Do yourself a favor and check out Richmond on either Halloween or New Year's.
Back to Dom's Voyages and Adventures page.