Are National Parks for Commuting? DC Decision a Big Win for Human Power

A car driving through Rock Creek Park, Washington, DC. (Source: Flickr/Der Berzerker.)

A recurring theme of city life during the pandemic was that as streets emptied of regular traffic, people reclaimed them for life on a human scale. Washington, DC, was at the forefront of this trend, instituting lower speed limits and limited access on neighborhood streets that prioritized local residents’ activities and safety over through traffic. Outdoor dining stalls took over parking spaces. And walkers, runners, and cyclists got a boost when the National Park Service closed sections of road in Rock Creek Park, a national park that spans a large swath of the city with an urban forest, to car traffic.

With a return to more regular economic activity, many of these changes are now on the chopping block, in DC and cities across the country. DC has backtracked on  its “Slow Streets” initiative, removing barriers and allowing increased speeds again in some neighborhoods. But in a major victory for non-motorized users (and the organizations advocating for them), the road closure in Rock Creek Park was made permanent. In November, the National Park Service announced that the northern sections of Beach Drive, the road that runs the length of the park, will not reopen to through traffic. 

“A full-time closure of this section of Beach Drive will provide safer park experiences year-round by reducing conflicts between people who walk, bicycle, and drive. It also expands access for visitors with disabilities to areas of the park that lack separated pathways and accessible trails,” the National Park Service, which administers Rock Creek Park, said in its statement.

Rock Creek Park has a great pedigree: It was the third national park authorized by Congress, and boasts Colonial-era history, Civil War fortifications, and miles of recreational trails through 1,754 forested acres in the middle of a major city.

If you were starting a city now, it’s hard to imagine you would choose its national park as a conduit for commuters. Yet that’s what Rock Creek Park was for several decades, funneling traffic from upper DC neighborhoods and suburban Maryland all the way to the National Mall.  (In defense of the commuters, it was as good as driving to work gets, with a meandering route through a beautiful mid-Atlantic mixed forest and only one traffic light from downtown to the DC–Maryland line.) 

This “customary use” points to just how much of a default choice car-centric planning has become. But there’s also a hopeful story here of how citizen engagement can bring changes that happen slowly, and then all at once.

Garrett Hennigan, organizing manager of the Washington Area Bicyclist Association (WABA), points to a decision made decades earlier to close much of the park to car traffic on weekends.

Once residents could see the effects of the road closures in “two days out of seven,” as the park brimmed with runners, cyclists, skaters, and dog walkers, Hennigan said that opened their eyes to the possibilities of a permanent closure.

Then the pandemic “transformed the discussion and moved the window of what’s possible,” says Hennigan. After the temporary closure was announced, the Peoples Alliance for Rock Creek (PARC), working with WABA and other volunteer groups, mobilized to make it permanent.  

Cyclists in Rock Creek Park. (Source: Flickr/Ken Mayer.)

Volunteers cataloged people entering the park near the closed roadway for more than 160 hours over 12 days. PARC counted 28,000 people—on foot, bikes, scooters, roller blades, and other human-powered conveyances—using that section, an average of hundreds of people per daylight hour. It also launched a petition drive, and submitted its findings to DC officials and the National Park Service.

A city study examined the effect the Beach Drive closure would have on adjacent streets and concluded that they could handle the projected traffic volumes. So the National Park Service decision culminated decades of citizen engagement and an evolution in how the city sees its priorities, particularly in relation to cars.

Hennigan also noted an interesting wrinkle in the conversation about cars over more than a century. The legislation authorizing Rock Creek Park specifically mentioned “pleasure driving” as one of its intended uses. This was in 1890. Pleasure driving meant horses. An NPS history of the park shows that tensions with cars started as soon as cars gained popularity.

This isn’t the only human-centric development happening in Washington. The city has unveiled ambitious plans to remake sections of Connecticut Avenue, a major north–south thoroughfare, with protected bike lanes and traffic-calming measures. Stay tuned to Strong Towns for more developments as this project advances.

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