Tag: transportation

  • Sprints and Marathons: What Track Meets Can Teach Us About Cars, Bikes, and Better Cities

    Sprints and Marathons: What Track Meets Can Teach Us About Cars, Bikes, and Better Cities

    person riding bicycle near fence
    Photo by Sebastian V. on Pexels.com

    When we talk about city planning and transportation, the conversation often turns into a battle of extremes—cars versus bikes, highways versus bike lanes, speed versus sustainability. But maybe we’re framing the issue all wrong. What if, instead of pitting one against the other, we thought of our transportation network the way we think about a track meet?

    After all, no one shows up to a track meet expecting the sprinters to beat the marathoners at long-distance events—or vice versa. Each athlete shines in their own event because they’re using their body in the most efficient way possible for the distance and conditions. Transportation should be no different.

    The Marathoner: Cars

    Cars are the long-distance runners of our transportation ecosystem. They’re built for endurance, capable of handling long trips with relative comfort and speed. Need to travel across town, to the suburbs, or between cities? That’s a marathon—and the car excels. Like a long-distance runner who maintains a steady pace over kilometers of terrain, cars perform best when they can travel uninterrupted over long stretches.

    But we don’t expect marathoners to be nimble in a short dash, and we shouldn’t expect cars to be agile in short, stop-and-go urban trips either. In dense environments, their size, speed, and storage requirements start to look more like liabilities than strengths.

    The Sprinter: Bicycles

    Enter the sprinter—the bicycle. Bikes are unmatched in short-distance speed and efficiency, especially in an urban context. Like the 100-meter dash, a bike ride across a neighborhood is quick, elegant, and often faster than driving once you factor in traffic, stoplights, and parking.

    Bikes don’t need much space. They start and stop easily. They work well when things are close together, when the “track” is smooth, direct, and safe. In a compact city core or residential area, they’re the ideal sprinter—quick off the line, light on their feet, and capable of weaving through dense infrastructure with grace.

    Designing the Right Track

    Just like we wouldn’t ask a marathoner to run a 200-meter dash on a twisty, narrow track, we shouldn’t ask cars to dominate city cores—or ask bikes to survive on wide, fast roads built for speed and distance. Good transportation planning isn’t about declaring a winner. It’s about designing a city where each “athlete” has a course tailored to their strengths.

    That means:

    • Protected bike lanes and calm streets for short urban trips—the 100m dashes of daily life.
    • Efficient arterial roads and intercity connections for longer trips—the marathons that keep the regional economy flowing.
    • Seamless transitions between modes of travel—like sprinters handing off to distance runners in a weird hybrid relay (OK I stretched the metaphor too far 😆).

    Playing to Our Strengths

    The takeaway? Bikes aren’t a niche option for the hyper-fit or environmentally zealous. They’re the “sprinters” of the transportation world—ideal for quick trips, local errands, and everyday commutes. Cars still have a role to play—but let’s stop asking them to run sprints they’re not built for. And let’s stop designing our cities like every trip is a marathon.

    Let’s give each mode the space to do what it does best.

  • A Superpowered City

    A Superpowered City

    a boy wearing a superman costume
    Photo by Vicki Yde on Pexels.com

    In the bustling city of Metropolis, a groundbreaking research project promised to change the world. The project, funded by the wealthiest citizens, aimed to replicate the powers of Superman. For a hefty fee, participants could gain super strength, flight, and other extraordinary abilities. As more people joined the project, Metropolis began to transform.

    Skyscrapers reached new heights, with landing pads for flying individuals. Streets were widened to accommodate super-speed runners, and buildings were reinforced to withstand the impact of superhuman strength. The city was becoming a paradise for the super-powered.

    However, as Metropolis evolved, the lives of ordinary citizens grew increasingly difficult. Public transportation systems were neglected, as flying became the preferred mode of travel. Elevators were replaced with vertical tunnels designed for those who could leap tall buildings in a single bound. Sidewalks were narrowed to make room for high-speed lanes, leaving little space for pedestrians.

    For those without superpowers, daily life became a struggle. Commuting to work was a nightmare, with limited options and overcrowded buses. Navigating the city on foot was hazardous, as they had to dodge super-speeders and avoid areas designated for superhuman activities. Access to essential services became challenging, as many buildings were only accessible to those who could fly or leap great distances.

    The disparity between the super-powered and the ordinary citizens grew wider. Those who couldn’t afford the expensive procedure felt left behind, trapped in a city that no longer catered to their needs. The once vibrant community spirit of Metropolis began to fade, replaced by a sense of isolation and frustration.

    In the end, the city of super-people faced a critical choice. Would they continue to prioritize the needs of the few, or would they find a way to create a more inclusive society? The future of Metropolis hung in the balance, as its citizens grappled with the consequences of their pursuit of power.


    Cars are a superpower, and life without them now seems impossible for many, because every aspect of our life is dependent on superpowers. Good thing Superman doesn’t need to park.

  • A Tangent About Cars

    A Tangent About Cars

    This is an excerpt from a longer piece about Why I’m Obsessed With My Community from cgow.ca, where I publish urbanism stuff specific to my work with the local community association.

    vehicle in road at golden hour
    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

    Cars (and other motor vehicles), in the way we’ve designed and built cities these days, are typically the most convenient and flexible way to get places. The key here is to think about how monumental a task it has been to get out of the way of cars to have that be the case. Cars are not convenient and flexible inherently, it’s because cities have been doing socioeconomic gymnastics for decades making sure cars are king.

    Look at any suburban neighborhood with an eye for how much space we set aside almost exclusively for motor vehicle use. The easiest way to see this is to look for parking lots, which are really easy to see in satellite view because they’re extremely empty the vast majority of them, and they typically reflect a lot of light, so they are nice and bright from above. But one must also consider garages, where cars live for an incredible majority of their lives (think about how many hours you drive in a typical day, the rest of that time your car is in a garage or a parking lot). Another important space taker in the suburbs is driveways, which can easily take up even more space than a garage in terms of square footage. Some residents use their driveways for hockey or basketball or chalk drawings, but a lot of the time it’s just the place your car lives or the way your car gets to the garage.

    So far, I haven’t even brought up streets and roads yet. Despite the fact that in the suburbs, only a very very small percentage of road space is actually used by cars at any given moment, to venture there outside a car is considered extremely dangerous. We teach our kids to be on high alert when they have to cross even the street we live on, because at any moment a car could basically appear and take precedence as road users, despite the fact that (again) there is no sidewalk.

    Now that we’ve spent a little time talking about just how much work we have done to ensure that cars have the absolute priority in transportation almost everywhere, we can talk about how frail car supremacy actually is. Cars are flexible and convenient for everyone, up to and until everyone actually tries to express this freedom all at the same time. This leads to a little discussed phenomenon called ‘traffic’, and it is the main way in which arguments for car-dependent culture fall completely flat for me.

    The reason I created a website called lesscar.ca last year is that it is a unifying idea. If you’re driving to work and moving 5kph on the highway, the idea of “less car” is super appealing. If you’re downtown looking for parking and spend 15 minutes circling the block to park and get to a restaurant, in that moment what you want is less car. When you are trying to head home after a football game at Lansdowne and stuck behind a lineup of 300 cars trying to leave the parking lot, would you prefer there to be more car, the same amount of car, or less car. The choice is obvious to all of us in those cases, but the same arguments can be applied to almost every situation.

    In an ideal world with no changes to the way our cities are laid out, any sane person would want to be the only one driving. Why wouldn’t you want a transportation system that is designed perfectly for your use case and your use case alone, and why can’t other people stop using it so much. I hope this is obvious, but people want to go to places that are nice, and if places are nice, people want to go there. If you want to go somewhere, other people are probably also going to want to go as well. Cars scale just terribly, they are good for going somewhere that has mainly straight or gently curving lines along the way, and they do best with a lot of open space around them.

    Cars are not maneuverable, they cannot change size, shape, or direction easily, and they have to go somewhere when you’re not using them. When you are in a car, you cannot see anything except what’s right in front of you. A modern car from the driver’s perspective is mostly blind spots, with some affordances to try to help you determine whether anything is occupying that space around you. The very first time I drove an SUV, it was a rental car and I absolutely hated it. At the time, I was mainly getting around on a bike or by bus, both of which have great visibility (and in a bus, only a single person actually needs to concern themselves with what’s going on around the vehicle). I sat down in the rental, and realized that on this trip, I wasn’t going to be able to see…anything… Sure, I could see out the front windshield fairly easily, as long as I didn’t want to look up or down, but a shoulder check in a vehicle like this shows you basically nothing.

    Cars are by far the most isolating form of transportation. There are an extremely small number of ways to communicate with other drivers. You have: 2 turn signals, brake lights, 4-way flashers, flicking your headlights on and off, and a couple of hand gestures if you happened to be moving at low relative speed with respect to another driver so there is any way they can see your hands, and of course the car horn.

    The horn is by far the funniest to me, because it is the most ambiguous communication signal in the entirety of human existence. Imagine going on a first date except you can’t talk or gesture or signal anything, each of you just has a button to facilitate communication. It would be completely useless. Now imagine the restaurant you’re having this date at is full of couples with buttons and anytime one is used you have to also figure out if it was your date who actually pushed it. I’d watch that dating show, except no I wouldn’t because as funny as it would be for a few minutes, it would be so painful.

  • What a Difference Accessible Infrastructure Makes

    What a Difference Accessible Infrastructure Makes

    Photo taken on Feb 19, 2025 near my house. Massive snowbank with a plow track through it.

    I want to give a massive shoutout to the city of Ottawa for continuing to maintain the parts of this path system that they’ve committed to, to the best of their ability (and it has really been solid!). This has made school drop-off every day this winter on foot way easier (not to mention getting around the community whenever we need to!).

    In past years before these paths were maintained, when I was bringing my kids to kindergarten and daycare, if (when, realistically) it snowed a bunch, this would look very different. You can basically picture the exact landscape from this picture, except instead of having a neat path cut through it, it is just a giant impassable mountain.

    The unspoken but excellent thing about this end result (a walkable path system) is that typically the paths are cleared very early in the process, within 4-6 hours of the snow being done, and sometimes while snow is still falling. Later, since this connects to a side street that isn’t cleared very often, a plow will usually come by and clear the whole street. That street clearing tends to leave a giant snowbank piled right in front of the mouth of the path, which obviously isn’t ideal. In this case, though, the path plow has been excellent about coming back within a short time after the plow has come to clear the path again, which leads to the image you see at the top of this post.

    This snow clearing makes this path walkable and gives many community residents access to the neighbourhood and nearby schools, without requiring people to get around on short trips using only their cars. It also gives the active older population of the community a safe way to get moving in the fresh air without resorting to walking on the streets or risking falling trying to trudge through deep or dense snow.

    The fact that the city has prioritized maintaining these connections has made a huge difference in the walkability of the community, and hopefully we will be able to get more paths in the area upgraded to be plowable so the whole extensive park system can all be accessible through the winter.

    Great work!


    Contrast the extremely clear and accessible path above with the situation 2 years ago in January when I first started asking about this:

    Photo taken on January 26, 2025 near my house of a gigantic snowbank with a narrow path around it.

    This is basically the same view as above except not only was the path not cleared, but you had to blaze a trail of your own around a literal mountain to get through, only to need to trudge through deep snow on the other side as well to get to school.

    I could make it through here, but my kids definitely weren’t making the walk with a toboggan to pull them in, and it was a huge workout even as a relatively fit person in my 30s. It is SO much better now.

  • What to Expect When You’re Expecting… to Drive Everywhere

    What to Expect When You’re Expecting… to Drive Everywhere

    bicycle lane on asphalt road of residential district
    Photo by Adrien Olichon on Pexels.com

    In many North American communities, the prevailing expectation is that driving is the primary, if not the only, way to get around. This assumption has shaped our transportation infrastructure in ways that often go unnoticed but have significant impacts on accessibility and livability. Streets and even whole suburban neighbourhoods are designed with cars in mind. Often neglected are the needs of pedestrians, cyclists, and public transit users, basically anybody who isn’t in a vehicle.

    This car-centric approach can lead to a range of issues, from increased traffic congestion and pollution to reduced safety and mobility for those who do not drive. It can also cause issues when road infrastructure eventually needs to be replaced or upgraded, because a single road closure (for a crash or construction) in the wrong place can block traffic until it’s cleared up. With a more diverse transportation network, people can walk or bike past construction to nearby amenities or take the bus for longer journeys. And for people who don’t want to do that, driving around the blocked streets will be easier for them too. By examining the consequences of this expectation, we can begin to understand the importance of creating a more balanced transportation network that serves all members of the community.


    Expectations play a crucial role in shaping urban transportation options. Currently, throughout the continent there is a widespread expectation that cars should be able to navigate almost anywhere with minimal delay and in the shortest possible time. This assumption heavily influences how transportation infrastructure is designed and maintained. It is extremely rare in North America to find communities where car isn’t #1 and any other transportation options are typically orders of magnitude less important in terms of planning

    There are suburban streets (including the one my house is on) in my community and suburb where there are no sidewalks at all. When the community was built, the expectation was that everyone would be driving everywhere, and if people wanted to leave their house for a walk literally anywhere, they could walk in the street with the cars.

    Yes, It’s Bad

    I have stood at my window and watched as an SUV pulls up to the curb (I live across from a lovely park, for which I am very grateful), and watched a mother get out of the car. She got a bike out of the trunk and her son out of the back seat. This woman (who I absolutely do not know) felt compelled by our road and/or path network to teach her child to ride a bike far enough from where they live that she couldn’t get there on foot, or possibly didn’t feel safe doing so. This is a symptom of community infrastructure that fails to meet the needs of its residents.

    The system we’ve created and continue to rely on EXPECTS almost exclusively people in cars in many places. We give vehicles a literal red-carpet experience to move through our neighbourhoods, but don’t afford any of the same luxuries to people walking, cycling, taking the bus, or using any other mode of transportation.

    If we as a city and community can escape the car-centric design bubble and apply the same expectations we have for cars, trucks, and other vehicles to other modes of transportation, such as cycling and public transit, we can create a more inclusive and efficient transportation network. When a city anticipates that its transportation network will be used by a variety of modes—cars, pedestrians, cyclists, strollers, scooters, or buses—it becomes easier to design and prioritize infrastructure that accommodates all users, as well as to justify diversifying the network further.

    In truth though, this is more nuanced than just a checkbox ‘there’ or ‘not there’ for sidewalks, bike lanes, bus routes, paths, etc. There are degrees of expectation for transportation infrastructure, and here again we see huge disparities in many suburban places in North America.

    We have more than our fair share of spacious, 4-lane roads with speed limits of anywhere from 40 up to 80 kph. Lots of these roads are often lined with massive parking lots leading to shops with almost nowhere for people to exist in between. This is because the whole system is designed for the expectation that people will drive ‘there’ (wherever ‘there’ is), do whatever they need to do, and drive home. Sidewalks along these roads are basically never more than a few feet wide, and you sometimes (but definitely not always) get a 2–3-foot asphalt or grass buffer from the roads.

    If a transportation network is instead designed with the expectation that pedestrians, cyclists, and buses will use it, the infrastructure must therefore be maintained according to those expectations, lest it be considered inadequate. This means ensuring routes (including paths and bike lanes, painted or separated) are clear of snow, free of obstacles, and safe for use. It means sidewalks should be wide and friendly and not right next to fast-moving and loud car traffic. It means buses and other public transit should be able to follow their routes without getting stuck in car traffic, and should offer frequent service and with a variety of local and commuter routes.

    By setting these expectations, cities can create a more resilient, reliable, and user-friendly transportation system for everyone. Once this has started to change, when users can trust that their chosen mode of transportation is supported by the transportation infrastructure, they are more likely to get out and try to use it confidently. This almost inevitably leads to increased usage of alternative transportation options, reducing traffic congestion and promoting a healthier, more sustainable urban environment.

    But It’s Cold

    These expectations continue to be true regardless of the weather. Right now, for example, it’s mid-January and we’ve just experienced a pretty cold snap, with weather between -10 and -25 Celsius for the last 3-4 days. At the moment in Orleans, where I live, we have had to bug and poke and plead to get some of the main community paths cleared in the winter. This was only possible due to recent asphalt upgrades on the paths to fit them for modern standards and to have the mini-plows drive over them without ripping up the pavement.

    However, what minimal active transportation networks we have access to in better weather, other than the paths I just described, are not maintained at all. When transportation infrastructure is maintained in the winter according to the expectations of its users, people use it. This is true of cars and roads, and also the other transportation options we’ve been talking about. When there is a blizzard in Ottawa, road crews ask drivers to stay off the road outside of emergency situations, because driving in these conditions is less safe than once roads are cleared. Without maintenance in the winter when necessary, none of our transportation options are safe or accessible.

    If the city took the transportation network seriously all the way from Kanata to Orleans, with separate and safe infrastructure for people outside of cars, maintaining that infrastructure through the year could be an easily achievable goal. This would have the added benefit of helping us mitigate the effects of climate change and traffic congestion (and more) over time. It is not and probably never will be for everyone to cover long distances in the winter on foot or on bike, but for short (2-5 km) trips unless it is extreme cold warning levels of cold, being on a bike is actually quite nice. We are so used to being cold in the winter because we are using no energy to keep ourselves warm, but on a bike, you’re moving and it’s much easier to not get cold, especially if you’re prepared for it.

    If you spend your days driving around in a car in the winter, you’re much less likely to be prepared to be outside for more than a couple of minutes. If you’re dressed to be outside though, it truly doesn’t take much to stay warm, especially if you’re moving on foot or by bike. Combine changes to the transportation network with zoning changes to slowly allow small businesses to build and operate inside our single–family-home-exclusive neighbourhood, and it is certainly much easier to imagine running errands and getting around the community without relying on a car.

    Setting clear expectations for diverse transportation modes and maintaining the infrastructure to support them can transform urban transportation networks. By doing so, cities can ensure that all users have access to safe, efficient, and reliable transportation options. This is not something that is likely to change overnight, but when presented with the opportunity as a community, we should jump at it. Funding for future-thinking projects like this don’t come around often.

  • In the Suburbs, Everything Looks Like a Drive

    In the Suburbs, Everything Looks Like a Drive

    landscape photography of cars

    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.