Joys of a city that’s walkable

I learned recently that in the 1970s, a man named Dave Kunst logged the first verified walk around the world.

Starting in Minnesota, he made his way to New York with his brother and a mule, took a boat to Portugal, walked across Europe and into Asia. In Afghanistan, the brothers were both attacked and shot by bandits, and while his brother was tragically killed, Dave recovered and four months later resumed his walk with his other brother, Pete. They were denied entrance into the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, so they flew from India to Australia, where Pete flew home and Dave continued his march. Dave’s mule died shortly after and he was helped carting his things across that dusty land by a stranger who later became his wife. Dave eventually made it back to Minnesota and into the record books.

I enjoy a good walk. In fact, one of the things that attracted my wife and I back to Palmer is the fact that, by Alaska standards, it is a remarkably walkable city. From our house we can easily walk into downtown along paths or sidewalks, and the city does a nice job keeping the paved railroad trail through the city clear of snow in the winter. There are also paths throughout the Matanuska River Park, the old rail trail along the Matanuska River and a maze of routes through Crevasse Morraine Park for those of us who don’t mind absurdly steep climbs.

I find walking to be a tremendous way to get around, and while my teenage self would hang his head and sigh at this impressive adoption of the hobbies of the aged, I would in turn hang my head at my younger self’s ill-fitting clothes and over-relevance on flannel and the word “awesome.”

A few years ago, a friend of mine proposed that we walk across England, some 200 miles along the Coast-to-Coast Trail from St. Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay. The walk was a delightful voyage through the heart of England and strung together some of their finest parks and scenery as well as scads of quaint villages and pubs. The impressive number of inns along the route meant that we only had to carry some clothes and enough food and water to get through the day, which made the walking relatively easy and enjoyable. In fact, the only unpleasant memory I have from the experience is a frightening encounter with a rambunctious bull that was clearly offended at the thought of three Alaskans wandering through its meadow.

But, I must confess, the impetus for this article is not to criticize the ungulates of England, nor to recall the great heights achieved by a walker from Minnesota, or the pleasant ambiance and delicious food of British pubs. Rather, I wish to impose upon you something that has been bothering me for quite some time.

As noted previously, in general I think Palmer is quite a nice town to wander through. Sure, the underpass under the Glenn Highway as it begins to head up Bailey Hill is always a little troubling with its typo-rich graffiti, campfire debris and odd smells, but overall Palmer has done a fine job with its walkability — with one odd exception. As you head through one of the busiest intersections in town, past the hallowed institution of Americana that we call McDonald’s, the sidewalk disappears and is replaced with a slope comprised of wild plants and renegade gravel. It bothers me. It is like a piece of the puzzle has fallen down a furnace vent never to be seen again. I have seen small children drop to the side of the road into traffic on their bikes to overcome it, and elderly people stumble across it on their way toward a cheap meal.

Maybe there is an explanation as to why this short stretch of Palmer cannot be made smooth. I suppose it could be located on an old burial ground, or maybe Matanuska Electric Association has a section of buried cable there and we all now know how expensive that is to move. Maybe it’s a clever diversion by McDonald’s to slow people down as they walk by so they do not miss the ever-so-subtle arches. I certainly don’t know, but as you drive — or better yet walk — past, I hope you now register notice of it so I can take solace in the fact that I have spread this annoyance on to others.

I called the city the other day and they informed me that this abnormality will be taken care of in a few years when the intersection is redone.

I am happy about that. While that little stretch of land might not be as bad as being attacked by bandits or renegade bulls, to the walkers out there it is an unnecessary blight on an otherwise fair city. Once that sidewalk is complete I will be able to stand comfortably in front of McDonald’s and enjoy the view of the empty former Carrs Mall and that guy who stands on the corner with the big sign. Well, OK, maybe we have a bit more to tidy up!

Pete LaFrance grew up in Palmer and has moved back to the area after a number of years living abroad.