On Memorial Day weekend I finished an urban walking trilogy. One morning in 2017 I set out to walk 19 miles from the heart of downtown out east to the top of Stone Mountain. I had toyed with the idea for a while, and figured one morning, what the heck. Why not? As soon as I finished, I thought about where else I might go. In 2018, it was 23 miles out northwest to Kennesaw Mountain’s summit. This year, I did a little morning 13-miler down to the airport.
Most of the time on these walks, it’s not really enjoyable. The streets and highways aren’t friendly for pedestrians. The sun bears down on you. Hard sidewalks (when they exist) make my feet hurt. I walk past industrial parks, encampments for those with no other place to sleep, empty lots, next to 4-lane highways, underneath interstate overpasses, past strip malls, past front porches. I feel kinda scummy and outcast, especially when just starting out. But eventually there’s a sense of place I develop, connecting the pieces, filling in the gaps, that I don’t get in other ways. And there’s a satisfaction of looking back to where I came from, and knowing what’s in between.
Like most dumb Type 2 fun I do, I’m… not exactly sure… why? But when I get ideas, and wonder what-ifs, and they don’t go away, it’s usually best to try to give them life.
I did some volunteering with Trees Atlanta recently. In one of their offices they had this 10-year-old map of the Atlanta Beltline, with plans for the surrounding landscapes. Very cool to see this early vision – and a different one than the neighborhood/transit-focused one we’re used to – back when it was mostly just a dream. It still is, but it’s also on its way. I like that they still have it around.
Atlanta is a sports town, just not one that resembles other major league cities. To understand Atlanta’s relationship with the Hawks, it’s necessary to understand that the common cultural heritage of the metropolitan area tends toward living in the suburbs and the tribalism of college football. To believe Atlanta is not a good sports town, it’s necessary to believe college football is not a sport.
Nothing in this message is a lie, or even exaggerated, once you realize who the audience is. This message isn’t directed toward the Atlanta city-dweller. The “you, our fans” is not targeted at a person who lives in the city of Atlanta. It’s targeted at everyone in that dark-red blot that lives in the city’s northern suburbs. If you’re a fan who lives in these suburban areas, today is a great day. It has long been a hassle to get to Turner Field — because it involves going all the way to Atlanta to see the Atlanta Braves.
MARTA could reduce average wait times and improve customer satisfaction by extending the Blue Line Train’s final eastbound destination from Candler Park to Indian Creek during rush hour.
As a frequent rider on the eastbound Blue Line train, I often wonder why MARTA runs a short train that terminates service at Candler Park instead of continuing on to East Lake, Decatur, Avondale, Kensington, and Indian Creek stations. This odd routing decision adds up to 7 minutes—not an insignificant amount of waiting time—to each one-way trip for riders traveling eastbound from Five Points to stations beyond Candler Park.
I’m often struck by how few people get on the “mini” train, but I figured I was missing something because surely MARTA would only do this extra level of service to customers headed to heavily used stations.
However, I took a look at the station ridership data…
Yep, the short route is kinda ridiculously empty in the mornings.
An ongoing project to document food sources in the Atlanta area. It is very incomplete and constantly changing, so if you know about a great fruit tree or other food source that you think should be on the map, please add it to the map!
Currently in season: blackberry, mulberry, plum, and serviceberry. Gotta get my harvest on.
I moved to Atlanta in 2007, which was pre-WonderRoot, pre-Dashboard, pre-Living Walls, pre-Glo, pre-Flux and plenty of other stuff. And then WHAM, everyone’s doing stuff. That’s in a period of five-and-a-half years. That’s insane—good insane. And we’re all still very much learning what each of us does, galleries are closing, capital is moving around, new artists are constantly showing up, communities are reacting—there’s whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on. Beats the hell out of how it was when I moved here and it’s a light years better than what little was going on in the last city I lived in. Keep going everyone, and bless the haters as you climb over them.