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56 articles

North Fillmore in Arlington: a street whose traffic flow changes mid-block.

The expansive, oddly shaped downtown district of Arlington, Virginia (it’s a county, even though it feels like a city) features some unusual intersections, which no doubt confuse motorists and pedestrians who are unfamiliar with the area.  These intersections were nowhere near as precarious back in the day, when most of the area consisted of low-slung

Al fresco platforms: expanding café dining to…former parking spaces? Permanently?

It’s been a mere two weeks since I explored the sacrifice of on-street parking spaces for transportation enhancements in a Washington DC neighborhood.  And here I go at it again.  Why should I delve into the subject so soon?  Well, this time around, it’s not quite identical: instead of bike lanes, the enhancement is more

Guerrilla gardening at the crossroads: of daffodils and debris.

The eastern seaboard—and certainly the Mid-Atlantic—has dodged most of the winter bullets that hit the Midwest, the Great Plains, and even California (!) these past few months.  Washington DC did not receive any snowfall that lingered more than a few hours.  I espied the first blossoming trees on February 19, and though the blossoms at

Jones Point Virginia: where two states diverge in a wood. Take the retrocession less traveled.

Many years ago, I met up with a friend in Belgium who took me to the nearby Dreiländerpunkt, where Belgium, Netherlands, and Germany converge, with boundaries lines vaguely resembling the logo for Mercedes-Benz.  How appropriately German.  The glories of the Schengen Agreement have, since 1995, eliminated the fortified boundaries that straitjacketed these small countries for

Bicycle boulevard in a crunchy college community (Ithaca)—and good at getting over gorges.

Bicycle boulevard: it’s not just another alliteration that’s fun to say (as they usually are).  It’s a topic for which aficionados have more answers than there are people asking the questions, which I recognize isn’t exactly a selling point .  But since this isn’t always a blog for dilettantes, i’ll posit those questions nonetheless.  What

Flagging the falls, geotagging the jokes: another meme for the First State.

It’s not nice.  But it probably was inevitable.  Earlier this summer, during a photo shoot on a weekend getaway to his beachside vacation home, a certain head of state stopped his bike but was unable to disengage his feet from the toe clamps in time.  Having nothing to stabilize himself, he fell over.  No serious

Analog Memes, Part I: a guardrail as the artists’ canvas. 

It’s hard to imagine this in 2022, but there was indeed an era when meme was not a part of common parlance.  Such a time may be hard to conceive for the Generation Zoomers, but most older Millennials and all Xers can recall when they somehow knew and fully understood what the term means, even

White stripes: in this context, the drums may be the most essential part.

It’s amazing the world of difference that a few stripes of paint can make.  Thirty years ago, the notion that various municipal public works departments would overtly reserve portions of our roads as exclusive lanes for bicycles was essentially an extravagance—a weird provision relegated to a few choice roads in college towns, which were the

Chambersburg courthouse: when prosperity helps to bridge the old and new. Literally.

It’s hard to assess the exact time measurement of a single generation.  How long is it?  Fifteen years?  Twenty?  Usually not more than that.  However, it’s intended typically to convey the time necessary for a person to “come of age”—that is, the duration from birth to the point when he/she is making adult decisions, including

A new spin on the wheels of an old ghost bike, along Indy’s Madison Avenue.

My latest article just went up at Urban Indy. It’s a familiar subject to those who know this blog well: another ghost bike, this time in the largely suburban, automobile dependent streets of the south side of Indianapolis. Unlike my very recent article on a ghost bike in Albuquerque, this one almost certainly signifies a

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