Op-Ed, local: let's build transportation infrastructure that improves our climate change resilience

While walking through my neighborhood recently, I came across a new pedestrian crossing island at Holgate and 29th in Southeast Portland:

NearMap Imagery, 08/28/2021

 

 

 

This pedestrian crossing island was much needed, as it connects directly to Tucker Maxon School, but it also does a good job of slowing traffic on Holgate, which is frequent and fast in both directions. You may have seen similar pedestrian crossing islands in other streets like Foster Rd or Hawthorne Blvd:

NearMap Imagery, 08/28/2021

I love seeing these projects crop up. One of the beautiful aspects of these pedestrian crossings is how easy they are to use, both for drivers and people walking. The narrowing of the travel lane and the concrete curb slows cars down. When present, rapid flashing beacons alert people in cars that someone is about to walk across the street. The zebra crosswalk gives higher visibility to people crossing. The sidewalk curb bulb-outs shorten the crossing distance. The concrete island provides a safe place to wait for cars in the next lane to stop. When people driving stop for you as you approach the intersection, walking across feels natural and safe, and one can essentially forget the infrastructure that makes this possible. This is a hallmark of good design. 

Every time I use these crossings in the summer, however, nothing, not even the drivers glaring at me as if this would make me walk faster can distract me from the massive, hot, concrete islands on either side of me. What in typical Portland gray weather exists as a beacon of hope towards a more walkable future, is transformed by the summer into a stark missed opportunity, a painful reminder that it did not use to get this hot for this long, that we humans are the reason why, and that we are not doing enough to prevent the future from getting worse. As I reach the other side, my apocalyptic anxiety subsides as I leave the pavement, concrete and tailpipes behind, and I am wrapped in the loving shade of a tree. If I'm in my neighborhood, hopping from under the shade of one tree to the next until I get back home becomes a fun challenge, and my mood begins to improve as I process feeling thankful for the fact that there are trees lining the streets.

While my neighborhood does not boast the tree-shade of the Laurelhursts and Ladd's Additions of Portland, Creston-Kenilworth is well covered by the tree canopy. I spent the first two thirds of my life in the high mountain desert of Juarez/El Paso, and I will forever be grateful for all the trees in Portland. I am thankful for the ancient pines in parks and yards and for the dogwoods and maples found in the planting strips between the curb and the sidewalk.

The Urban Forestry Office reveres trees at least as much as I do, and they wisely consider trees to be part of our city's infrastructure, providing shade and cleaning up our air and and stormwater. In the most recent Citywide Tree Inventory, it was reported that many planting zones have the wrong size tree - small-fruit trees are often planted in areas that could support a large pine, which would maximize the benefit of the lot, and conversely, some trees are too big for their planter, which can lead to sidewalks breaking. This is perhaps due to the fact that homeowners are responsible for what grows in their planting zone. Portland Urban Forestry is focusing their efforts on correcting this trend by educating the public, and by donating trees to houses that have an empty planting zone, which helps bring shade to places that have had their native trees inequitably torn down through unregulated urban growth.

I can't take a walk these days without noticing the vacuum between these two siloed efforts, each working to solve only their part of the problem: on streets we control, we're building concrete pedestrian islands to increase safety, and on planting strips we don't control, we're encouraging the public to choose to plant the right tree. These strategies are not mutually exclusive, and they can go a lot further in improving our climate change resilience by working together.

I am not suggesting that Portland Urban Forestry stop giving trees away, or that PBOT stops building safe crossing islands - I want them to work together. I am trying to illustrate the Venn Diagram that should exist between both of their missions so that regulatory, jurisidictional, budgetary or otherwise barriers can be broken.

Let's consider our Holgate and 29th crossing island. Making conservative estimates, if all concrete within the curb of the big island were removed, we would get 100 square feet to work with, in an planter 18 feet long by 6 feet wide. The Urban Forestry Tree Inventory Report recommends a large tree for the site, given the 6 foot width and lack of overhead electric cables. (Note that many pedestrian islands meet these criteria). However, Holgate is a major emergency response and truck access road, meaning that we'll need a thin tree whose canopy will mature at higher heights than trucks. Most pine trees would be suitable for this location. If planting a tree were not immediately feasible, planting sedges and rushes, which are very adept at filtering stormwater, could still be planted. According to Depave, a local non-profit organization that removes pavement from overly paved places, removing 100 square feet of concrete could save 10,000 gallons of stormwater each year. There is also the fact that any type of vegetation would more reflect solar radiation (and be cooler) than asphalt and concrete, which would make using the pedestrian crossing island in the summer a more welcome experience than if one were surrounded by concrete and pavement on all directions, even if no tree shade were provided.

Instead of filling in pedestrian crossing islands with concrete, trees and vegetation should be planted. We can combine the tree-selecting expertise of the Urban Forestry Office with PBOT's knowledge of our streets to plant site-appropriate trees, prioritizing those that will provide the most shade or filter the most stormwater, given the size of the crossing island. 

Thinking outside the realm of infrastructure, planting in pedestrian crossings should also raise our sense of pride in the city. During a bike trip through in France a couple of years ago, I noticed that each small town had a flower sign at the entrance. The number of flowers designated each town's flower rating, which was based on the quality of the gardens visible from the street. I think we have a lot of reasons to stir up a similar sense of pride. We are the city of roses! We are home to the Portland Thorns! Japan gifted us Cherry Blossoms! People here love to garden! Why shouldn't we allow our pedestrian infrastructure to serve a higher purpose we could all be proud of?

-Alan De Anda-Hall

Update:

This week, the City of Austin's Public Works Department published photos of a recently completed pedestrian island crossing improvement on a road that is a close analog of Portland's Holgate. Austin summers are typically punishingly hot. Austin also suffers from more frequent flooding, so capturing rain and stormwater on pervious cover is a high priority. While the situation is not as dire in Portland as it is in Austin, I wanted to update this piece to show that it's possible to integrate rain gardens into pedestrian crossing islands:

 

 

 

 

Sources:

Imagery: http://maps.us.nearmap.com/

Street Tree Inventory: https://www.portland.gov/sites/default/files/2020/citywide-inventory-report-2017-rs.pdf

Transportation System Plan: https://www.portland-tsp.com/#/streets

Depave: https://depave.org/