Riding the Rails

My daughter and I took a ride on the Green Line the other day. It was a lazy summer day, with nothing planned, and my attempts to get Martha away from the TV and her various devices were being met with resistance until I mentioned, off the top of my head, taking a ride on light rail. "Where are we going?" she asked excitedly. "I don't know," I replied. "Maybe we'll just take it St. Paul and back." For some reason, that piqued her interest.

Though it seemed like nothing more than a time-killing, I was pleased that Martha wanted to join me on this urban adventure. Since I don't actually have a reason to use either of the the Twin Cities' light rail lines on a daily basis, I was curious to see what the experience was like. And I also like riding on trains. Having grown up in New York City and lived in another major city (Boston) for several years, I'm a supporter of a varied and thriving transit system, even if I don't use said system very often. To me, any city that has designs on being considered a modern, world-class city should offer people as many options to get around as possible, and understand that those options will always require public subsidies. I'll happily pay for that with my tax dollars.

I know there are many in this region who fundamentally disagree with my views on transit. And for those people, light rail is a lightning rod, another example of liberals, public officials, and urban planners shoving an expensive, unnecessary, and unsustainable transit system down people's throats. And even among supporters of light rail, questions remain about costs, ridership estimates, speed, equity, and the ability of the system to promote development. As a result, it seems every step in the creation and expansion of the light rail system has been a battle, and that is certain to continue with the contentious Southwest LRT line.

To me, the addition of more transit options is a way for the Twin Cities to come closer to the ideal of New Urbanism, which promotes the creation of denser, more compact and walkable neighborhoods that contain a mix of housing, commercial buildings, and open space. When I first moved to Minneapolis in the mid-1990s, it seemed like the embodiment of everything that New Urbanism intended to correct. I was struck by the delineation between where people worked and where people lived, and by the fact that so few people seemed to actually live downtown. I took the bus to and from work, but felt like I had to use my car for everything else. And walking to a destination, even in the city, just wasn't very interesting.

I knew that not every city could be like New York, where walking is not only a way to get around but a way to entertain yourself. But Minneapolis, aside from the chain of lakes in the summer, felt like a city whose street life had been decimated by car culture and suburban sprawl, and no one seemed bothered by that. I didn't want to live in New York, but I wanted to be in a place that felt more like a city.

Twenty years later, the Twin Cities feel more like the type of urban environment I want to live in. It has become denser and more walkable. Downtown Minneapolis, at least, doesn't feel like a ghost town on a weeknight. But I've changed too. I no longer look down on the suburbs. Hell, I live in one, though I'm right on the edge of Minneapolis. I shop at strip malls on occasion. People shouldn't feel bad about wanting to live in a place that's less dense, less urban. There are many good reasons to live in the suburbs. But I do think that public officials should do everything they can to make it easier for people without cars to get from point A to point B. And having those options could help knit the city and the suburbs together.

I thought about all of this as Martha and I rode the Green Line from Target Field to Union Station and back. I'll admit that at first I found the ride to be annoyingly pokey and much less efficient than your average big city subway line, and I wondered how tolerable the 55 minute end-to-end commute would be on a daily basis. But as we crossed over the Mississippi and cruised through the University of Minnesota campus, I began to enjoy the ride. Even if only in a passing manner, I was introduced to parts of St. Paul that I hardly, if ever, see, and hopefully will explore more. After we reached the end of the line Martha and I played ping pong in the echoing great hall of Union Depot and I pondered how many hours behind schedule the Amtrak Empire Builder would be. And then we made the return trip, taking turns sitting in the backwards facing and forward facing seats and talking about which we liked better. We both agreed that sitting backwards was kind of cool.

That conversation alone was worth the price of the ride.