One of the most traumatic pieces of our move to the suburbs is the pending death of our WalkScore.
Yes, WalkScores aren’t exactly the end-all, be-all of our civilized life, but they do accurately portray a neighborhood’s walkability and, as a result, urbanity.
Our current inner-city house has a WalkScore (on a scale of 100) of 55, termed “Somewhat Walkable”, which is pretty accurate. We somewhat enjoyed it, too. We walked to meals, to the grocery store, and on occasion to public transit. I know, unfortunately, that I am about to somewhat miss this WalkScore.
The new house, in the cookie-cutter subdivision, is over a mile from the nearest public transit stop and at least trip down a congested access road to get to anything besides the elementary school. Our new WalkScore: 20, the dreaded “Car-Dependent”.
*Breathes into a paper bag, stares blankly into the distance*
So no more Saturday morning walks to the taqueria (where everybody knows your name). No more strolls to the city’s best coffee (where you don’t have to order because they already know what you’re having). No more walking at all, really…well, unless it’s to go fetch the mail, which instead of being in a box attached to our house is now in a metal cluster somewhere down the street. Or so I think.
I guess I can take a walk to find out.