Hidden in Plain Sight

I probably was in middle school when I read the story; it was about a boy who lived in a space inside of a bridge.  Looking back on it now, as an adult, the premise was frightening, and I don't know why it was in a middle school anthology -- a boy without caretakers or a home, living alone in a city -- but I probably first learned, reading it as a child in a small town in Kansas, that in cities there was a world that was invisible, underground or in spaces we didn't even know were there.  I am still fascinated by the stories of what's in the tunnels under Paris or London or New York City, abandoned metro stations, the places that urban explorers surreptitiously go.

But you don't have to go underground to find places you didn't know were there to explore in cities, and urban exploration doesn't have to mean creeping into abandoned buildings or utility tunnels.  There are other places where streets don't go that are empty spots on maps, and I wonder about them too.  Often these places are private property, and exploring them risks a trespass charge.  But there are the spaces under elevated highways, the cleared areas under major power lines, and sewer easements along creeks that are not necessarily accessible and sometimes not even visible from the street or sidewalk.  We all know about the accessibility that streets and sidewalks provide, but what if these invisible places got stitched together into a network?  Where could a pedestrian go?

When the Lindbergh-LaVista Corridor Coalition worked with the Georgia Conservancy on development of a plan for their community a few years ago, one of the themes identified was a desire by the neighborhood to be more connected, and not just by streets.  There's a lot in the report about improving the pedestrian environment and access to the streets by bicycles, but the authors also talk about how trails could help bring the neighborhood together.  The North Fork and the South Fork of Peachtree Creek converge there, and there is green space, some flood plain, and access via sewer easement along the creeks.

I don't know when exactly the South Fork Conservancy got started; by the time I first learned about them, they were a well-established organization, working with Park Pride on a visioning exercise for the South Fork of Peachtree Creek.  This is when I first learned about the work the Conservancy was doing to develop trails along the creek.  Since then, they've put an enormous effort into Dekalb County's new park in the Zonolite area, near us, but they've also been working with the Lindbergh-LaVista group, and now there's something to show for it.

Last Saturday two Board Members of the South Fork Conservancy led a small group on new trails in Lindbergh-Lavista.  At the end of Armand Road we walked past the private property sign (we have permission, we were assured) and onto trail that went along the sewer easement on the north side of the South Fork.

Walking these trails, there's a sense of wonder.  You know you're in the city, not far away from streets we drive on all the time, but you've never been here before and you didn't even know it was here.  But it is, and there's the creek, and even though you can hear the roar of traffic it's like you're in a hidden place that doesn't have anything to do with cars and traffic.    

The trail extends under I-85 to the confluence of the South Fork and the North Fork of Peachtree Creek.  I always wonder about the places under interstates so it was a treat to get to walk through the space.  This one is better suited for art exhibit space than, say, a pop-up restaurant.

Under the expressway there was lots of unsanctioned art work.

On the other side of I-85, it was a short walk to the point where the South Fork (on the left, in the photo below) converges with the North Fork (on the right) to form Peachtree Creek, which at the horizon of this photo is heading toward Piedmont Road.

At this point, the trail currently ends; another group is planning trails along the North Fork, and there is not yet a bridge to cross the North Fork.  So we walked back and entered the trails along the North Fork from Lindbergh.

We climbed over the guardrail to the trail that went along the North Fork.  I drive by here all the time and I had no idea there were trails here.  They aren't long, though, ending back at I-85, where large rocks make continuing under the expressway currently hazardous.

More is planned -- the Department of Transportation is building some trails on the other side of Lindbergh, and there's a planned connection somehow with the Beltline.  I've always been a little spatially challenged but it's hard to imagine where these spaces are if your view is constrained by what you've seen from the street in a car.  

One of the new DOT trails is supposed to be open in early 2014.  I don't quite understand where they are and where they go, but when it's open I'll walk it and see more of the city that I've never seen before, parts that are hidden in plain sight.