Asheville is a walkable city, as long as one travels in a north-south direction and not too far. This morning as I walked to work, I gained a new respect for all those who do so every day. I dared not board a bus lest my Republican friends eat me alive for not paying the full, unsubsidized fare, which I probably couldn’t afford anyway. I was on the road from 6:00 a.m. to 8:30 a.m., and I only saw two pedestrians and one cyclist. I took that to mean that most green commuters are already at work before 6:00. That is even more admirable when one considers the waist-high grass through which one must wade on several main routes. I cannot hold a candle to those who go through snakes, spiders, and ticks in the dark because it would waste energy. Perhaps the most amazing thing, though, was discovering the ped bridge, which crosses over the French Broad River, was gated.
I may have mentioned the first time I ever crossed that bridge, a quarter of a century ago, I was stopped by a cop who informed me it was only used by prostitutes and drug dealers. Had I known how to read a map, I might have known. Anyhoo, this time, knowing the bridge was accessible from within the Hillcrest public housing development, I walked around the complex on the slippery grass covering jagged rocks averaging about 5” x 5” x 5”. I thought of those walking to work twisting their ankles fourteen times each way on their daily commutes. Then, I had to cross the interstate, lumbering over the concrete partitions, and walk around the highway gates. I was too heavy to climb them.
When I arrived at the gate door, I discovered it was locked. Neighbors said they didn’t know how to cross the river if the gate was locked. Moments away from gambling on where I might land with a swim across the French Broad River’s mighty current, I opted instead to walk along the narrow shoulder of the interstate. Searching for a viable route across the river only added about half an hour to my travel time.
