The title of this post references the old adage, “When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” This saying is especially true when it comes to transportation in suburban Ottawa.
If all you have is a car, everything looks like a drive.
I have come to reject this car-dependent framing, not because I think cars should play no role in the suburban transportation network. Instead, I believe that more viable transportation options—walking, public transit, cycling—will give residents more tools to make sustainable choices when getting around their communities. Coupled with relaxing zoning restrictions to allow small businesses like cafes or convenience stores to exist near where most people live, this creates a recipe for making it possible for some people to go about their daily routines without needing a car.
I often use the following line when discussing transportation in my suburb with friends and acquaintances: “If you’re sitting in stop-and-go traffic on the highway, do you want more car, less car, or the same amount of car?” Even if begrudgingly, everyone ultimately tells me they want fewer cars. Despite the fact that many suburban residents aren’t ready to personally use their own vehicles less (or get rid of one if they have multiple), hopefully, most people can get behind the idea that someone else should theoretically drive less, even selfishly.
Building on the Metaphor
I’d like to revisit the hammer/nail metaphor from earlier. Imagine you have been given a hammer and are now wandering around a construction site hitting things with it. From your perspective, this is perfectly reasonable, and to be honest, it’s literally all you can do. You have no other options. It doesn’t necessarily make sense to hit a screw or try to cut drywall with a hammer, but you’re making the best of what you have.
Now, imagine the foreman comes along and shows you a workbench with a screwdriver set, some wrenches, a saw, a belt sander—a whole shop full of different tools with different purposes. Suddenly, you don’t have to use a hammer for everything. You can use a variety of tools to get the job done better. I’ll also point out that even though you have a whole workshop of tools laid out in front of you, sometimes you still actually need a hammer.
Transportation Options
Now we can bring this metaphor back into the real world and apply it to our transportation network. In a suburban environment where walking, cycling, public transportation, and more are all supported, made safer, and encouraged where appropriate, there is less car traffic to get stuck in. You might be able to sell or not buy/finance that second or third family car. You might actually appreciate having a network of sidewalks and paths, bus or bike lanes, real transportation options that meet a variety of needs.
Of course, the final lesson of the metaphor is the most important to keep in mind. Even in an environment with many transportation options, sometimes, for some people, a car/van/truck may be the most sensible option for a particular trip. When my family of five goes to a restaurant five kilometers away in a minivan, or I am helping a friend move and letting them use my truck, these are the most sensible transportation options for those trips. However, the same can’t be said for a solo grocery trip 1.5 km away for a few items, visiting a friend a few blocks over, or taking the kids to swim lessons across the highway. Another huge example would be taking your personal vehicle alone 10-20+ km to work and back each day on a route literally thousands of other people are already taking at the exact same time as you.
A Multi-Modal Network
The transportation systems that underpin the vehicle network already have lots of room for modularity (rear/roof racks, trailers, fold-down seats, taxis/rideshare, rental cars/vans, car seats, etc.) because not every driving situation requires the same tools. The same can be true for a multi-modal transportation network. You can complement the long list of motor vehicle modularity above with accessible public transit, city or cargo bikes with baskets or panniers, bike trailers, bikeshare, wide, well-maintained and connected sidewalks and paths—the list goes on. By focusing on and primarily funding (and subsidizing) only the car network in the suburbs, we are missing an opportunity to make use of a whole toolbox full of different options to get around.
The next time you see someone advocating for more transportation options in the suburbs, keep in mind that since the dawn of the automobile, nobody in their right mind has ever suggested that personal or professional vehicles should not be allowed anywhere or for any reason. The staunchest active and public transportation advocates all understand and acknowledge that options are a good thing and cars, vans, and trucks of all sizes in moderation are a vital part of a healthy and accessible modern city when necessary. However, the dose makes the poison, and if these are your ONLY transportation options, you’re going to experience the downsides (traffic, cost, pollution, crashes) as well as the advantages (comfort, flexibility, convenience, at least by certain measures) of car dependency. Life is a process of balancing tradeoffs, and we as a community can choose resiliency and sustainability over instant convenience and perceived independence from one another (boy do I have thoughts on this) if we so choose.
As a resident of our suburban neighborhood with family roots here since the early 90s, I’ve come to appreciate the tranquility, space, and sense of calm that comes with living outside the hustle and bustle of the inner city. The wide streets, ample yards, and peaceful environment are some of the things people cherish most about suburban life. However, I’ve come to realize that this lifestyle, while comfortable, comes with hidden costs and challenges that affect not just our wallets, but also our environment, health, and community cohesion. One of the biggest challenges I see is that it’s nearly impossible to maintain any sense of community and get to know people when we’re all so spread out and have so few public spaces to gather. I believe it’s time to rethink how we use and live in our suburbs to create more resilient and affordable communities, without losing the qualities we love.
The Hidden Subsidy of Suburban Living
One of the most surprising revelations is how urban centers end up subsidizing suburban areas. Urban neighborhoods generate significantly more tax revenue per acre due to their higher density. This means more people and businesses are contributing to the tax base, compared to the sprawling, low-density suburbs. As a result of this, the infrastructure costs in suburbs—roads, water lines, sewer systems—are much higher due to the larger area they cover. The tax revenue generated in these areas often doesn’t cover these costs, leading to a reliance on subsidies from the higher revenues of urban centers.
This financial imbalance is a key principle highlighted by Strong Towns, an organization advocating for financially resilient communities. They emphasize that land is a finite resource and must be used efficiently. Suburban sprawl, with its extensive infrastructure needs, is an inefficient use of land, leading to higher costs that are not fully borne by suburban residents. Instead, these costs are often covered by the higher tax revenues from urban centers, creating an unsustainable financial model.
Environmental and Health Impacts
Beyond the financial aspects, suburban sprawl has significant environmental and health impacts. The uniquely car-dependent nature of suburbs leads to increased greenhouse gas emissions, contributing to climate change. Large suburban homes also consume more energy for heating, cooling, and electricity, further exacerbating environmental issues. Additionally, the spread of suburbs often encroaches on natural habitats and agricultural land, destroying ecosystems and reducing the land available for food production.
Health-wise, the design of suburban neighborhoods discourages walking and cycling for transportation, by spreading things out so much you have to drive everywhere. Suburban street design also makes reliable and frequent public transit challenging. All of this leads to a sedentary lifestyle that contributes to higher rates of obesity and related health issues. Increased car usage also results in higher levels of air pollution, which can cause respiratory problems. The isolation and longer commutes associated with suburban living can contribute to stress and reduced social interaction, impacting mental health.
Safety and Social Cohesion
Street safety is another concern in cities that have car-dependent suburban areas. The reliance on cars to get around in these places increases the risk of traffic accidents, and the spread-out nature of suburbs can even delay emergency response times. Socially, suburban design often leads to isolation, with fewer opportunities for casual social interactions and weaker community engagement. This can reduce the sense of community and belonging, making it harder to build strong social networks.
Moving Towards Resilient Communities
So, what can we do to address these issues and create more resilient and affordable communities? The advocacy group Strong Towns proposes for a return to traditional development patterns that prioritize financial solvency, efficient land use, and community resilience. This includes promoting mixed-use developments and higher density housing, which can generate more tax revenue per acre and reduce infrastructure costs.
By making our neighborhoods more walkable and less car-dependent, we can improve air quality, encourage physical activity, and foster stronger community interactions. Reducing car dependency also makes neighborhoods more accessible to those who cannot drive, including the elderly, children, and low-income residents, promoting equity and inclusivity.
Embracing Change Without Losing What We Love
It’s understandable that some residents might feel apprehensive about changes to their beloved suburban neighborhoods. However, it’s important to note that densifying our communities and allowing mixed-use zoning doesn’t mean losing the qualities we cherish. In fact, it can enhance them. Imagine having local shops, cafes, and parks within walking distance, making daily errands more convenient and enjoyable. These changes can bring more vibrancy and life to our neighborhoods, creating spaces where people can gather and interact, strengthening our sense of community.
Moreover, higher density doesn’t mean high-rise buildings everywhere. Thoughtful planning can ensure that new developments blend seamlessly with the existing character of the neighborhood. Small apartment buildings, townhouses, and duplexes can be integrated into the community, providing more housing options without overwhelming the area.
In Conclusion
While the suburban lifestyle has advantages for lots of people, it’s important to recognize the hidden costs and challenges it brings. By understanding these impacts and adapting principles from urban advocacy groups like Strong Towns, we can work towards creating more sustainable, resilient, and vibrant communities. Embracing these changes doesn’t mean losing what we love about our suburbs; it means enhancing our quality of life and ensuring a better future for all residents. It’s time to rethink our approach to suburban development and embrace changes that will benefit us all in the long run.
Strong Towns has a vibrant Ottawa chapter, if any of this is interesting to you, I would encourage you to check it out.
Today, I’d like to share an idea with you. This might be something you have never thought about before, and in fact it may be a lot of work up front to convince you that thinking about this is even worth your time. If you’ve felt at one time or another – over the last 5, 10, or even 20 years perhaps – like something fundamental is missing from your community, come along for this ride with me. And if you *don’t* have or haven’t ever had this feeling, I hope you will hear me out, and I’m curious if you find yourself nodding along. It may be a winding road, but I think there is a lot of value to following it.
Obviously, anybody reading this is bringing with them their own life experiences and unique history. Some of our human experiences are shared by almost everyone, while others are quite rare and won’t be relatable to as many people. I can only really speak from my own experiences, so you may have to either put yourself in my shoes or map your own life to my history to really understand what makes me feel this way.
The Community You’re Raised With
I was raised in a central urban community mostly in the 90s and early 2000s in Calgary. While I was in that situation, as a kid, I wouldn’t say I cherished the experience, but I certainly made the most of it. The furthest I ever had to go to get to school was 3.5 km to get to high school, and it was a calm, quiet ~15-minute bike ride. I would frequently walk to school as well, and I could get anywhere I needed to go in the city on bike or by public transit.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but growing up in this environment, self-sufficient without a car in a community that had other good options, prepared me very well for not needing a car as an adult either. My first job was within easy walking distance, and every job I had in Calgary was close enough that I could walk, bike, or take the bus/train. I got my learner’s driving permit at 14 (as was/is? the legal age in Alberta), but I didn’t actually get my full driver’s license (nor did I need it) until my mid/late 20s because I didn’t need to drive anywhere, and I had other good options to get around. For example, Calgary built an LRT for the 1988 Winter Olympics and has continued to extend and improve it over the decades.
Even when I moved to Ottawa in 2006 for university, I lived in at least a half dozen residences and apartments before moving into a condo with my wife in 2014. All of these places before the condo were within a 10-20 minute walk to university campus and to the places I worked. I didn’t have a car, and I certainly wasn’t going to buy one without a license or a need for it. Even when I did move out near the Montfort hospital to the condo, I would take the bus to work on the worst weather days, and still most of the year I would bike or even rollerblade downtown. I would drive in occasionally (we’re talking 1-2 times a year at most when I needed to bring something heavy or awkward to the office), but in my entire life I have never routinely commuted anywhere by car.
What Changed?
In 2019, my wife and our 1-year-old daughter moved to Convent Glen North. It was a major change in my life, but it was always pitched as the ‘endgame’ of city life to buy a house and move to the suburbs. You have so much space for yourself and your family, and the suburbs are littered with shopping centres and “main streets” with all the amenities that seem like they’re trying their best to feel a little like the ones downtown, as long as you don’t look that closely.
Fast forward to 2024, and I have a stable job and have fully settled into suburban routine. The pandemic helped a lot with that settling process, as our home became the office, as well as the daycare for quite a while. We are now a family of 5 starting to attend the school we can walk to while only crossing our own street and the park, which really makes it feel quite urban most days. We have a lot of space that feels like it is truly just ours, but over the last year or two, the whole rest of my life experience I described earlier has been sitting in the back of my mind, brewing up thoughts and feelings.
When I said earlier that I can only speak from my own experiences, here is where those experiences shape my feelings about this pocket of the suburbs. If I had to describe the feeling in a single word, I would call it isolating. I’m a strong introvert, so it’s not like I want to be friends with and talk to everybody all the time, but actually meeting and chatting with your neighbours feels like an anomaly more than how it is supposed to work. I have some of my own feelings about the reasons why this is the way it feels, and I’d like to try to break it down now.
Why The Suburbs Feel Isolating
I think calling human interaction in the suburbs an ‘anomaly’ is sort of the perfect way to describe it. It’s not that you can’t see people who live near you, because you totally can, but it is almost deliberately outside the norm. Interactions with your neighbours only happen through coincidence or through direct and deliberate action. Living in the suburbs, where effectively everyone has at least one car, and some families have at least two or three, most of what you do to get places involves getting in your car (maybe even from inside your garage) and going somewhere that isn’t anywhere near your home, or even in your neighbourhood. Compare that to a condo subdivision or apartment complex, where there is shared space and sidewalks and elevators where you will definitely see and interact with people as a matter of course going about your daily life.
The way most suburban neighbourhoods are set up is very obfuscating to your sense of direction, with almost exclusively single-family homes clustered together in large, loopy patterns with no or very few higher-density housing options. If you want to go somewhere or do something, by default, you get in the car, because almost nothing is within walking distance. Compared to the grid that serves as the root system for older urban neighbourhoods, wayfinding by feel in a suburb requires repetitive trips and experience to learn how to get around or relying on GPS navigation. Between that and the cookie cutter approach to home design, many suburbs literally feel like a maze, relying on individual homeowners to make distinctive changes to their properties to give the neighbourhood any character at all. While this maze-like road design does tend to make walks for adventure and exercise more interesting than a grid layout, walking for transportation is inefficient and can be downright dangerous. Our suburbs, for example, don’t have any sidewalks at all on most local streets, and often have only one sidewalk on collector roads.
This winding and branching structure of suburban neighbourhoods has another detrimental side effect that makes cars seem like the obvious or only choice for transportation. Sending buses or any public transit through these communities is a massive logistical challenge, because the population density along any route is quite low, and there are no efficient straight-line roads for buses. It is possible to plan routes through these neighbourhoods, of course, but sending full-size buses through the neighbourhood every 30-60 minutes during peak times (like we do now) is not a recipe for people using the transit system for anything other than their commute, at best. For a transit system to really make sense as a funnel to get people to nearby business hubs (like St. Joseph) or connect to other transit (like the LRT to get downtown), something like a compact 16-24 seat community shuttle running every 10-15 minutes makes far more sense.
You will never be able to beat a car 1 to 1 on the basis of convenience getting almost anywhere in a city, if you already have a car and you don’t take into account that the decision to drive is not made in a vacuum. However, if you play that out in reality with a whole population, traffic drastically changes the equation, and suddenly your trip time can double or even triple just by leaving for your destination at a different time. Driving a car is wildly less convenient if you plan around a 10-15 minute commute to go downtown, and it ends up taking you over an hour because of traffic, a crash on the highway, and spending 10-15 minutes circling the block looking for parking.
The reason I feel compelled to describe the bait and switch convenience a car promises in this story is that transportation efficiency isn’t the only consideration you’re making when choosing how to get where you need to go. By getting into a car, you are (possibly without realising it) choosing to isolate yourself from society and the world around you. When a whole community (and their kids, mind you) choose to pile in to their individual cars every day to run errands, attend events, pick up dinner at the drive thru, commute to work and school, and do anything else you might want to do, it means absolutely no chance of incidental casual conversations with people in your immediate vicinity.
By getting in your car in the garage or driveway, rolling up to your faraway destination in a closed box, and seeing other people who’ve done the same, you end up having very little connection to the place you live. Not your house, but the immediate surroundings, the 10-20 closest neighbours. In contrast, when you choose to bike to your destination, or walk to the bus and wait at the stop, or do anything other than jump in the car, the opportunities for face-to-face time with people in your community multiply rapidly and almost instantly.
The ability to flip an ignition switch and get literally anywhere within a 50km radius in under an hour (rush hour notwithstanding) is nothing short of magical when you need it. But this magical power is not without its tradeoffs, and I think this is having a meaningful impact on quality of life in the suburbs, even if it is very hard to see unless you’re looking for it. When you are going about your life outside of a car, you are interacting with other human beings in your surroundings. If you need help, someone to talk to, friendship, entertainment, or any other personal connection, the people that are just out in the world can actually connect and be that for you, or just be there for you. In a car, you are completely isolated, without any way to interact with anybody. All your interactions are mediated by car horns, wheel turning, and maybe hand signals or facial expressions if you are within a few feet of another car. We have become much less likely to give affordances to machines on the roads than we are to people on the roads. I think sometimes we’re actually starting to treat cyclists and pedestrians outside our cars more like mechanical objects than fellow human beings, in ways we would never do if a vehicle wasn’t mediating our interactions.
What This All Means For a Sense of Community
With the incredible and lightning-fast changes to our society brought about by new and improving technologies, it’s easy to attribute a change in the feeling of community to things like the internet or mobile phones. The rise in phenomena like online dating over meeting in person and job interviews taking place online only and mostly via algorithms seem like they are entirely products of the internet. But I think a big part of why the online versions of these things are so much harder now than their real-life equivalents is that we’re so used to being in our own social bubbles and getting very little exposure to people we aren’t already in contact with. It’s not to say there aren’t both pros and cons to hiring and dating online (obviously, there are pros as well), but there are real tangible benefits to having options to do those things in person as well.
Over the last few decades, we have changed from a society that would mainly interact face to face and with people who lived within 2-3 city blocks of us. There would certainly be occasions where people travelled longer distances, but it was unusual that people would traverse a whole major city on a regular basis as a matter of normal routine. Now, with the ease of being able to jump in the car and get anything or see anyone, our social circles today are much less likely to include people who live near us. Coupling this with the exclusionary residential zoning typical especially of suburban communities, and it’s easy to see how it’s much harder to meet new people and run into people you know.
The places where people spend their downtime have a massive overwhelming impact on our lives, who they know, and the kinds of things they can do. For a large portion of people, kids or adults, outside of our homes work or school are the only places we spend any meaningful amount of time relaxing. It is very hard to form relationships or get to know people better when this is all you see of them, and it is almost impossible to do this if two people or groups don’t even share a workplace or school.
What About Solutions?
One big thing that can help this phenomenon of a loss of regular community social interaction is new considerations for what sociologists call ‘Third Places’. These are social places in the heart of a community where people feel comfortable just existing and spending time with others. These can be community centres, cafes, bars or pubs, libraries, or any other manner of public spaces that can be used either free of charge or for very little cost. It is possible for individual private homes to become third places, but this is usually temporary for events like birthdays or holidays. In a suburb which is almost exclusively only allowed to legally contain single-family homes, third places have now generally become a destination with a high energy barrier to access. I spent my university years as a chemist, so in case that chemistry metaphor doesn’t track, I’ll try to put it in plain English.
Going to the local coffee shop, a restaurant, the gym, kids’ activities, your job, the grocery store, the library, etc., etc., etc. all require piling in to the car, driving for some non-trivial number of minutes, and finally arriving at your destination to do the thing you want or need to do. We tend not to think about it as such but visiting a place where you feel comfortable and can relax outside your home like this requires a tremendous amount of energy output. This is probably because the car is the thing actually outputting the energy to get you there. However, the end result is that for most people, they tend to just stay in and not try to expend that large amount of energy to get somewhere unless they really decide it’s worth their while.
In case you don’t believe me, just try to imagine doing one day worth of moving around centered in your suburb WITHOUT a vehicle. Suddenly, the energy required comes into stark focus. If all or many of the things you needed to get to on an average day were within a 10–15-minute low energy walk, you might find you don’t even need a gym membership, much less a second car or even a car at all the majority of the time. The old joke about routinely driving to the gym and then taking the escalator up to get your workout in is actually a call to better urbanism in disguise.
Wrapping Up
I believe the solution to reconstituting the heart of our community is to actually spend time thinking about the neighbourhoods we live in as a destination, not as a starting point. Building better local places so it is more interesting to spend time in them benefits all of us and is almost certainly good for our mental health. The typical suburb has just a TON of space in it, and a lot of it at the moment is designed to hold and move as many cars as possible (seriously, look at a map and just think about the space set aside for highways, roads, parking lots, driveways, and garages). These places don’t have a lot of space for people to move around and exist comfortably.
It doesn’t have to be this way, and investing more in mixed-use zoning, pedestrian or walkable spaces, a well maintained and separated path network for walking and cycling, public transportation, and public community spaces is the way to transform our community into a space we can all be proud to call home. Such a system is also much better at paying for itself from an economic standpoint, and doing this at the community level can rescue the city’s finances and help us contribute positively to the tax base rather than being a drain on it.
For many suburban parents, reading the title of this article might send shivers down your spine. For a lot of families, one car per adult in the household is pretty typical, unless a car is in the shop or out of commission for some other reason. In my case, one of the reasons we are a one-vehicle household (a minivan, which is great by the way), is to accommodate our financial priorities. We would rather spend our money elsewhere rather than finance a second car for the rare occasion we are doing two things at once that require one. We are a family of 5 with one income at the moment, and not looking to change that.
The Setup
When my wife got the opportunity to visit some friends in Toronto, she felt incredibly guilty taking our van on the trip, and in fact almost took the train with our youngest just to leave me the vehicle. It turns out the train is VERY expensive unless you book weeks in advance. However, from my perspective, as someone who has never commuted to work by car and doesn’t particularly enjoy or want to drive very much, this past weekend was a great opportunity to demonstrate that I was perfectly capable of getting around the suburbs with kids (who are 6 and nearly 4), with just my long-tail cargo bike.
I encouraged my wife to drive because the train was so expensive, which meant that for 3 days (Friday being a PD Day), I was going to be a solo parent for a whole weekend for the first time, and I would not have a car. I know that some parents (and some people without kids) in this situation would accept this reality and just decide they were going to stay very close to home for the weekend. However, I wanted my kids to have a fun weekend, and we had commitments and activities on the calendar that none of us wanted to miss, including swimming lessons and a birthday party, along with Orleans Family Fun Day on Saturday.
I didn’t do this because I thought it would be a fun experiment (though I did think it would be one). I did it because I knew that I could, and because I wanted to prove to myself that it was not only possible, but actually a positive experience and one I would seek to replicate whenever possible.
Downtown by Transit
On Friday, I packed a bag with snacks and water, and the three of us made our way downtown by bus and then train. The kids get very excited every time we get to take public transportation, and my son is an especially big fan of what he calls the ‘double wrecker bus’ (hopefully you can figure that one out). We went to the Rideau Centre and visited the canal locks, and then made our way back home after a few hours, and the kids had a great time.
Transit service gets talked about a lot in Ottawa, and it would have been easier for us if the network had more frequent service, but all considered it was totally fine, and we didn’t have to pay for gas or parking and got some exercise. We had to walk from Convent Glen North up to the highway at Jeanne d’Arc, about a 10-minute walk, and the 30 came almost immediately. Trains off-peak are now at 10-minute headways, so we had an 8-minute wait for a train, and both the bus and train were quite full the whole way (suggesting perhaps people are actually using the network and maybe funding it would be a good idea after all). One thing we didn’t encounter the entire weekend was more than 1-2 minutes of traffic on the bus at the very end of our journey.
Swimming Lessons
Getting to swimming lessons is pretty straightforward in comparison. We probably could have just walked to Bob Macquarrie Rec Complex from Convent Glen North, but given the kids preference for the bike, that was an easy choice for me to save some time. The construction on Jeanne d’Arc at the highway makes that a little more stressful, but the pylons blocking off one lane make for a pretty nice, protected bike lane on weekends when there are no trucks there. And honestly, the cramped lanes navigating the roundabout construction are downright spacious on even the biggest bicycle. It is a little over 1 km for me to get to Bob Macquarrie, and I am certain the percentage of people who (justifiably, mind you) drive there for activities is well over 80%, despite most people having very short trips.
Orleans Family Fun Day (Barrington Park)
Orleans Family Fun Day is a bit of a longer trek, but still well within easy biking distance (the event was at Barrington Park next to the Orleans library branch). The toughest part of that trip is the unfriendliness of Orleans Blvd to any form of transportation that isn’t a car, but with a little creativity and a few minutes of steeled nerves and hoping for patient and friendly drivers to get across the highway overpass which is down to one lane with construction. After spending 3 lovely hours at Family Fun Day, we ended up stopping to run a couple of errands at Innes Road, and then headed back to the Convent Glen Metro near our house to pick up some groceries for dinner and the rest of the weekend (the front basket is excellent for groceries when the kids are with me).
Birthday Party / Museum
The other major outing we did on the weekend involved a typical suburban parent experience, one kid has a birthday party to attend, the other wants to do something with you. The party was for 2 hours down off Montreal Road, across the Greenbelt at Canotek. On this particular occasion though, I had an ace up my sleeve since on weekends into October, the Parkway is open exclusively for active transportation. I packed the gift, the three of us hopped onto my bike, and after a short trip along the River Pathway, we joined up with the Parkway and made quick work of the trip to Shefford. The entire ~3 km trip we had almost no interactions with motor vehicles, as residential streets and the industrial park were both essentially empty on the weekend.
After dropping my daughter off at the party, I brought my son to the Aviation and Space Museum (another nearly 7 km) for a little over an hour (we have an annual pass), which he always appreciates. Another ~7 kms back, we were picking my daughter up from the party, and we were making our way home. Finally, we had made plans to walk to their grandparents for dinner, so we wrapped up the weekend with a nice 10 minute walk through the path system bisecting Vineyard and Voyageur. Wrapping up the math of the weekend, I spent a total of less than a dollar on electricity to charge my bike, biked over 35 km over 2 days, and spent 2 OC Transpo fares to go downtown and back. In exchange, we got to spend good quality time with many friends and acquaintances over the weekend days, many of whom we saw or spent time with in the community. I spent about $60 on groceries and picked up a few fun things for the kids too. We also got to see lots of people that live around us just by walking or biking past or seeing them in passing, something that happens so rarely when we’re all just jetting around in cars.
Wrapping Up
To just explicitly make the point I’ve been making implicitly while telling this story, it is extremely possible to get around your community without getting in and out of a car all day, and I can promise you it is way more fun (especially for kids) and I encountered literally zero traffic on any street or path I was on.
A couple of other things here are also true. The suburbs have some work to do to make forms of transportation other than cars safe enough for the average person to feel very comfortable getting anywhere in their neighborhood on a bicycle (with or without kids). But most places are quite accessible very easily now, even if you do have to go a little out of your way.
Public transit also needs some work, especially in the suburbs. A lot of people either don’t trust it, feel they are above it, or feel it isn’t good enough in comparison to their car to get them where they need to go when they need to get there. And in many cases right now, that’s true. OC Transpo needs more funding, more ridership, or some combination of the two, to be more reliable, more accessible, and more resilient. However, there are lots of new stations coming online in the next few years, and I believe OC Transpo truly believes in the mission of improving service, pulling the system out of the death spiral that has been threatening over the last 5 years.
The system is not perfect, but these options, walking, cycling, and public transit, are going to be key to Ottawa’s Official Plan and the Orleans Corridor Secondary Plan. The more we can use these other options, the better for the climate, traffic, and our combined sense of community.
In a single, normal day, I biked over 41 km on my ebike. Starting in Orleans, I went downtown for work, then from downtown to the Ottawa Hospital (main campus), and finally from the hospital home.
This trip was absolutely made possible (and was much cheaper and less physically demanding) by my ebike. And the trip itself was actually pretty good overall. It would be even better if the city was less concerned with making sure cars have the red carpet rolled out city wide while the rest fight for space off the side of the road.
I’ve owned an electric cargo bike for about 2-3 months now, and a few things about these trip(s) on Wednesday have stuck with me:
Without the electric assist, it would have SUUUUCKED to cover that distance. The battery made it a breeze and my legs still felt it plenty.
There is actually a lot of reasonable and even good bike infrastructure in the city, and unfortunately also a lot of “bike infrastructure” that actively makes people who try to use it less safe, despite what are probably good intentions.
There are a TON of gaps in safe infrastructure and even in unsafe infrastructure that serve as barriers to people using this network. The most notable one that seems to just be something that is “finished” but is just terrible is the connection between the ‘back’ side of the hospital ring road and the neighbourhood to the north. Looking at the maps after the fact it seems like intentional and proper connections do exist, but Google Maps cycling directions routed me towards dirt and desire paths. This is presumably intended to save time, but often a better route would have been seconds longer. If the city doesn’t want to invest in filling in these dirt and desire paths with actual pathway connections, better signage for wayfinding would go a long way. Right now, people who haven’t done these trips every day will have a really hard time navigating.
Having room for storing cargo on a bike is a game changer! Not having to take a backpack and having that backpack limit what you can have with you is incredible and makes sweat much less of an issue (combined of course with the battery which makes hauling cargo much easier as well).
Parking safely is a huge liability. When you pull your car into a parking space (especially somewhere with a massive parking garage that is monitored 24/7) you can be reasonably certain in most places that it will be fine while you’re running errands. Nothing happened, but I was very worried about my bike and have invested in a massive chain lock (6′), an AirTag and a motion alarm that will beep obnoxiously loudly.
The best part of all this, as someone who really doesn’t enjoy or get anything out of driving, is that it was FUN doing this.
It’s really too bad that my round trip from home, office, routine medical care, and back home required over 40 km of travel. We all make choices (like where to live and my place of work) and these are choices I’ve made (before getting orange-pilled, mind you), but honestly doing more to make services and work accessible to people without needing to cross the city (RTO I’m looking at you) will continue to make our cities more sustainable and will push the next marginal trip to one that is more accessible on foot, by bike, or by transit.
More on the Gaps in Infrastructure
Also, I had to look it up because it seems criminal, but there is supposed to be an officially sanctioned bike route the whole length of the LRT, to the point that they are currently working on extending a real bike route out to Trim from Blair… Buuuuuut the literal only connection between St. Laurent and Blair on bike includes driving down the middle of Ogilvie Road literal inches away from traffic at 60kph, with major intersections/lights every few minutes at most (every 30 seconds in a car).
Hilariously (or at least it would be hilarious if it wasn’t so dangerous), every Google Street View image of this road it’s this empty. Rush hour capacity is not long.
This shouldn’t be a bike route and in fact I’d argue it isn’t one. I can do it, as a person who is willing and experienced with vehicular cycling (out of necessity), but it is a travesty and I mostly see people on Ogilvie by the Gloucester Centre on the sidewalk, and they are 100% making the right choice. The painted lane on the right side of the street on Ogilvie from the St Laurent mall down to den Haag is bad enough, but being stuck in the middle of traffic, completely hung out to dry by the city, is just unforgiveable. It’s a nightmare.
Now I’m just venting but my route home also includes this beauty at Wellington and Lyon:
Street View of Wellington and LyonBird’s Eye View of Wellington and Lyon
There is accommodation (painted mostly) for bikes on either side of this intersection, but with 2 right turn lanes, if you want to not die you have to somehow safely merge in usually heavy traffic across 2 lanes to get across the intersection safely.
At this exact stop trying to make this merge last week, I had a bus that was in the left lane drive right up to me honking and needlessly close, while I was just trying to get across here… Pretty much the only way to do it while staying sane is to know it’s coming and get over in to the left lane (fully taking the lane) way before you get to the intersection, which means going up a hill on a bike in a lane fully meant for cars where just EVERYBODY is going to be mad at you.
By the way, I can’t know for sure, but I feel like that bus fully saw me and only honked and drove too close to me because he was annoyed, there’s no way he didn’t see me trying to get across safely.
There are maybe 3 places I can think of in the whole city with this double right turn configuration that aren’t on the highway, where Elgin meets Rideau right down the street there is another, and by the post office off Industrial is the third I can think of, and they are all terrible for not-cars.
Final Thoughts
Overall, I was very pleased with the way I was able to get around the city on my bike. The city has absolutely made progress in terms of separate and at least sometimes protected infrastructure, but there are very obvious and needless gaps that will hopefully continue to be addressed.
I will say though, it is actually very easy to see where these gaps are, all you have to do is get on a bike and try to go somewhere, the rough spots and issues jump off the road and try to knock you over all the time.
However, it appears that thought was skipped by the planners, and instead the road will be returned basically to its state before the renovation (plus a pair of bus stops and room for people driving to the train stop, and bike parking is a great addition too).
This seems like a failure of imagination at the very least.
It’s my understanding that at this point (not sure exactly when this was posted on the City website, but it can’t have been that long ago) the actual design in terms of what’s being built is fully locked in, which is a shame but you literally can’t change the past. However, it does seem like there is at least an opportunity to take what infrastructure is set and mould it to be a little more environmentally friendly (not to mention safer).
Specifically, what I’m talking about is the possibility of the outer lanes of the overpass being reserved for bus and bike traffic. I have been getting to work on bike via Rideau Street through downtown where the road has the same setup (4 lanes, 2 reserved for buses) and even at rush hour it’s fine.
The last 2(+?) years with the overpass down to 1 lane has proved (in my opinion) that car traffic volume doesn’t support the need for 4 lanes, even at rush hour this isn’t really a concern that needs to be factored in (and are we really building for the 10-15 minutes a road is the absolute busiest, which is already a choice many drivers make?).
If the overpass ISN’T given lanes with bus/bike priority, and traffic comes anywhere close to slowing down or stopping over the overpass, I’d argue this is bad for everybody, as it means buses and bikes will get stuck in that, and when buses stop, cars will get annoyed and be unhappy anyways. It’s fairly easy for a bike to wait for a bus if necessary (obviously not ideal, but the space is what it is), and the lanes are wide enough when the bus is stopped that a bike can probably easily pass safely if they feel comfortable.
The only thing I haven’t really considered above so far is the passenger pickup/dropoff spaces, but I think cars actually dropping off or picking up using the lane would be fine to do that (outside the flow of traffic) and then merge back in.
All of this obviously only considers the absolute busiest times on this road, the other ~98% of the time it’s just obvious that having dedicated infrastructure like this makes sense in terms of public transit flow and bike safety, there is no way there is enough traffic the rest of the time for 4 lanes to be anywhere close to necessary for cars.
I feel very strongly that we dedicate far too much road space for cars, I am definitely biased in that direction, but I also feel that it lines up with the priorities of the community and the city to make mobility and transportation network decisions thinking in this way. I’d really be interested to hear if any conversation like this (basically using different paint/signs on this road while keeping the actual built infrastructure as designed) has taken place.
I really look forward to the day when all of Orleans Blvd is a complete street accessible in this way by all road users, but for now this seems like an easy win, and will make it easier for people north of the highway to access St. Joseph and the Heart of Orleans without getting into their cars.
I just finished this book, it’s a great read on the reasons why reducing car dependency and designing streets for people and not cars is so important for society. Highly recommended.
In the bustling rhythm of modern life, where screens dominate our attention and digital connections often replace face-to-face interactions, the concept of “Third Places” emerges as a beacon of community resilience. These spaces—whether a cozy cafe, a vibrant park, or a welcoming library—play a pivotal role in shaping the 15-minute neighbourhoods of tomorrow. Let us delve into the societal impact of these Third Places, exploring how they foster connections, enhance well-being, and redefine our relationship with public spaces.
A Third Place is more than just a physical location; it’s a social anchor—a space where people gather, converse, and forge bonds. Imagine the corner coffee shop where regulars exchange stories, the community garden where neighbours cultivate friendships, or the bustling square where laughter echoes. These places transcend mere functionality; they become woven into the fabric of our lives. Every 15-minute neighbourhood needs a good Third Place—or ten—to thrive1.
Third Places break down barriers. They introduce us to the quirky artist who sketches at the park bench, the retired teacher who shares gardening tips, and the teenager who dreams of starting a book club. In these spaces, we learn names, swap recipes, and celebrate birthdays. By knowing our neighbours, we create a safety net—a web of support that extends beyond our immediate family. When a storm hits, it’s the neighbour who checks in, the barista who remembers your usual order, and the librarian who recommends your next favorite novel.
The hum of conversation in a Third Place is the heartbeat of community. It’s where we celebrate victories—a child’s first steps, a local team’s championship win—and where we mourn losses—a beloved pet’s passing, a friend’s illness. These shared experiences forge bonds that withstand time and adversity. In a world often fragmented by individualism, Third Places remind us that we’re part of something larger—a collective tapestry of lives interwoven across generations.
Third Places liberate us from the monotony of work cubicles and classroom desks. They beckon us outdoors, inviting us to linger under leafy canopies or sip chai on sun-drenched patios. Here, we find solace in the rustle of leaves, the aroma of freshly baked bread, and the laughter of children playing tag. These moments—unhurried and unscripted—remind us that life exists beyond deadlines and textbooks. They nourish our souls, replenishing our mental reserves for the challenges that await.
The Renaissance of Public Spaces
As we reimagine urban landscapes, Third Places emerge as catalysts for change. They challenge the dominance of car-centric design, advocating for walkable streets, pocket parks, and communal squares. By placing the “stuff” closer together—cafes, libraries, and markets—we reclaim our streets from asphalt and exhaust fumes. The 15-minute neighbourhood becomes a canvas where creativity blooms, where conversations flow, and where the simple act of sitting on a bench becomes an act of defiance against isolation.
My older kids are 6 and 3 (coming up on 4 now), and they absolutely love spending time on the back of my cargo ebike. In past years, we would go for rides together, but they were in a trailer behind my hybrid bike, and it wasn’t really a family ride since my wife didn’t have a bike to join us. It was also much less convenient to run errands like groceries with a bike trailer with 2 kids and no additional storage on my bike.
This year, since I’ve had my ebike for right around 2 months now, my kids are eager and excited to hop on the back of my bike, and we have done excursions and run errands together multiple times, especially since they’ve been off school, and I just wrapped up 4 weeks of parental leave. I love the fact that my kids are so excited to spend time on the bike, and it’s clear to me that they are making all kinds of observations about the world from their vantage point behind me.
What the Kids See and Do
The first thing worth mentioning that I observed from them on the back of my bike was that my daughter (6) said unprompted “biking to Metro is more fun than the car” while we were on the way to the grocery store. They both agreed that taking the bike was more fun, and I completely agree. Being out in the open and riding through it on a bike is a completely different experience compared to what feels more like floating through or even overtop of the community when you’re in a car. There is absolutely no connection to the rest of the world, you’re just in a sealed-off little bubble only interacting with the other little bubbles that are the other cars.
In the Neighbourhood
We’ve gone for a few longer rides now since that one, including visiting the library and going to Petrie Island (which is about a 15-20km round trip). On the library trip, we had to take a couple of less busy streets to avoid fast-moving cars on the main roads, and so we ended up passing by at least 4-5 different little parks and playgrounds. Since the kids weren’t trapped in the car bubble, and we weren’t floating around at 40-60 kph, they could spend longer actually seeing what the world around them looks like. On the way home, we picked one of the playgrounds to stop and play at for a bit, and this is a playground we never would have even known about without this trip. Now, the kids know where this park is and can even see it from the nearest main road (Jeanne d’Arc Blvd), so they’re even able to get a better sense of direction and context for the layout of their neighbourhood no matter how they’re getting around.
Being Friendly
Finally, the kids have started doing an absolutely incredible thing since our trip to Petrie Island. When they were on the back of the bike, every time we would pass someone on the paths, both of them started jubilantly calling ‘Hello!’ to people. It was so cute when they first started doing that and seeing that people were responding, not just saying hi or hello back, but waving, and smiling big smiles back. It’s not typical that you get such a greeting when you’re out walking or biking (people in Orleans will say hi or nod as you pass, but usually not a fun hello like that). I could watch peoples’ neutral faces absolutely light up when they were greeting, and basically everybody responded with a smile and a wave.
They’ve done this every bike ride or errand trip since, and the most interesting thing I observed was that my son (3) tried to say Hello to an SUV while we were crossing a street, and my daughter (6) reminded him that they couldn’t hear us in the car. The fact that she picked up on that right away and they both agreed wordlessly that saying it to vehicles was useless really struck me, and just makes me want to do more and more with them on bike.
Cycling and walking in your neighbourhood/community is super important for social development, whether you’re a small child or an adult, and I really think it’s a great way to stay connected to the people around you, not to mention it can make someone’s day.
More on the Gaps in Infrastructure
