Cars and urban parks are a match made in hell

As far as outdoor public space goes, Washington, DC is lucky. With 24% of its land designated for parks, in 2022 DC earned the top spot on the the Trust for Public Land’s annual list of best cities for parks for the second year in a row. The Trust’s report notes that residents of color and white residents are equally likely to live within a ten-minute walk of a park in DC, a markedly better situation than most American cities.

But the luxury of outdoor space within the city masks a key caveat: DC doesn’t own a lot of the bigger and better-known parks. The National Park Service (NPS) does. When the landlord puts their foot down, which NPS did Monday when it announced plans to close Beach Drive in Rock Creek Park to driver traffic on weekdays during summer only, it can override whatever local leaders and residents want (DC and Montgomery County Councils as well as Delegate Eleanor Holmes Norton all asked to keep it car-free). In spaces deemed security risks, like the plazas around the Capitol or Supreme Court, which aren’t parks but are often used in comparable ways, access can disappear overnight.

An urban fabric woven by distant artists

Thirty national parks call DC home. In addition to the headliners like the National Mall, many plots of public and semi-public space fit under the NPS umbrella, such as the tiny triangle parks of Capitol Hill, picturesque-but-unwalkable meridians like Pennsylvania Avenue SE, historical sites like the Cedar Hill home of Frederick Douglass, and many memorials ranging from the celebrated to the obscure.

DC owns more actual plots of outdoor space, but the ways the public can use a half-acre plot with no room for equipment or programming are limited, compared to a large, protected tract like Anacostia Park or Rock Creek Park. Sometimes, a lack of clear authority leads to odd situations where no one knows the rules, or who’s in charge. Rare transitions of nationally-owned park land like Downtown’s Franklin Park to a more city-friendly resource, operated by District authorities and the Downtown BID, are the result of years of bureaucratic effort and even Congressional intervention.

On a recent walking tour of lesser-known memorials southeast of Union Station, I passed by over half a dozen memorials (such as a memorial to victims of Communism) built on land in the District of Columbia by permission of Congress, with seemingly no role for District authorities. I wanted to know, in a measurable way, how much federal ownership of so much of DC’s public space affects the city’s permanent physical culture.

District leaders have chosen several memorials over the decades, such as the statue of Marion Barry (purportedly one of just three statues in DC depicting Black people standing up) outside our seat of government, the John A. Wilson Building. But the number pales in comparison to the sheer volume of public memorials chosen for national commemoration purposes by national authorities.

That DC leaders would likely not have selected some of these national memorials—the Titanic Memorial comes to mind—as a testament to DC’s own experience and history is a sort of sub-fact to the greater value of having public space in our national capital, where Americans and visitors can reflect on issues or people of national significance. But it still matters.

Most DC residents probably appreciate our bounty of public space: it means we have more places for social and recreational activity; supports our local economy (to a degree); and, on occasion, inspires us. But we lose a lot by the fact that we don’t own much of it and can’t make decisions about how it’s best used. Rights to public space are contested and precious. As a neighbor once remarked, public space is one thing they aren’t making more of.

Urban parks shouldn’t be car-friendly

Among the most worrying comments by NPS in its environmental impact statement were that greater numbers of visitors on foot or bike were somehow damaging to the purpose of Rock Creek Park. Observers voiced alarm that the agency who manages our natural resources for posterity and recreation saw nothing wrong with promoting personal vehicle use, a key contributor to climate change, at the cost of safer, more comfortable access for more sustainable modes of transportation.

Passive tensions between our status as national Capital and a living, working city are not new. Perhaps it’s unsurprising that such tension shows up in vehicular form: many of our country’s most marvelous parks score low on transit accessibility, whereas in DC most trips don’t involve a car at all. Places like Yellowstone, Zion, and the Grand Canyon aren’t intended or managed to be part of an urban experience, so much as an all-encompassing experience in their own right (yes, I’m from the west coast). There, planners and managers devote extensive space and resources to the ability to drive and park, though unlike Rock Creek Park, drivers usually pay for the privilege. One can see why NPS’s urban park management skills lack polish and focus.

NPS’s remit is that it “preserves unimpaired the natural and cultural resources and values of the National Park System for the enjoyment, education, and inspiration of this and future generations.” “Preserves” is the key word here: Rather than re-imagining the public settings in which that enjoyment, education and inspiration take place, in service of ensuring that doing so is possible for those future generations, NPS is trying to preserve Rock Creek Park in aspic (echoing the intent behind Beach Drive’s construction in the 1920s, in part to facilitate enjoyable drives through green stuff) with this limited compromise, neither removing nor adding to its accessibility through wayfinding or other resources.

When I brought a new babysitter to Lincoln Park a few months ago, I started introducing it as “Capitol Hill’s main–” before she jumped in: “—traffic circle!” I’d planned, of course, to finish with “public park.” DDOT’s dedication to establishing safe, continuous bike access (despite scattered but vocal and ongoing opposition concerning one particular block) to the park is important. But this park’s value is still compromised by its historical car-centrism: how confident would you feel sending an eight-year old to cross an intersection like the one below?

Nature needs nurture

In their press release, NPS stated, “After careful consideration of the potential effects of these alternatives on park resources, as well as consideration of traffic analysis and the many comments received from the public, the NPS sees the seasonal closure as the best way to protect park resources and strike a balance of different uses – whether visitors are walking, cycling, commuting or scenic-driving.” But the People’s Alliance for Rock Creek noted that when upper Beach Drive closed for construction from 2017–2019, traffic volumes on neighboring streets declined by anywhere from 5–25%. And “protecting park resources” through encouraging driver traffic will look like pretty short-term thinking as the negative impacts of climate change on national parks increase.

Notably, analysis of impacts on air quality of the proposed changes don’t appear to have been part of the Environmental Assessment published by NPS with the reason for dismissal being, “Implementation of this plan would neither increase nor decrease motorized use in upper northwest Washington, DC. If upper Beach Drive Road closures are partly or fully implemented, vehicles may use side streets that run parallel and generally close to Beach Drive.”

It’s past time for federal authorities—not just NPS, which plays a valuable role overall—to take a more serious look at how their management of “natural” and public spaces intersects with the very resources they aim to “preserve.” Americans’ level of dependence on cars has done, and continues to do, substantial damage to our ecosystem and its sustainability. At least in urban settings, transit, biking, and walking are possible and should be treated as a prize, not a nuisance.

It’s not possible for a natural setting to stand still: In addition to actual natural processes, humans make choices about what to prioritize, what to save, and what to sacrifice. In this case, judging by the majority of public comments NPS received, DC would have chosen people, enjoyment, education, and inspiration for current and future generations. NPS plans to choose cars.

They’re still listening

A public meeting is scheduled for July 18 at 6:30 pm, accessible here. If you’d like to share your views on whether Memorial Day to Labor Day is a sufficient period for Beach Drive to remain car-free, you can still weigh in on the current proposal here until August 11th.

Zooming out, if the mandate to protect the environment is to be taken at all seriously, parks policy should not center on cars, at least in an urban setting. DC’s local authorities know this, and federal brethren are welcome to join the party.