Bill Lindeke, proprieter of the nation’s best sidewalk blog, twin cities sidewalks, has bestowed upon me the honor of writing half the entries in his bile-fest of Twin Cities planning blunders. Number 10 went to the low-density industrial redevelopments of the St Paul Port Authority, and I will attempt to live up to Bill’s word-wizardry with the following:
Ahhh…. the classic Minnesota summer at the lake…. basking in the brief pleasure of sunlight hitting your winter-pasty skin…. splashing and being splashed as your feet dance in the sandy bottoms and mystery slippery sea monsters graze your shins… goosebump eruptions on your arms as you momentarily return to dry land to consume a scorched tube of ostensible meat…. the sharp bursts of honking and the screech of brakes from the uncomfortably proximate highway–hey! What the hell is a highway doing in the middle of this tranquil lake?
The answer is Planning Blunder #9:
The Cedar Avenue bridge over Lake Nokomis!
Who would hate Minnesota so much that they would literally pave over the quintessential Minnesotan experience? To find out, you would have to look up the payroll of the Minnesota Department of Highways between 1920 and 1926, when someone had the brilliant idea to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a bridge over smallish Lake Nokomis instead of curving Cedar Ave slightly to the west.
The Minneapolis Park & Recreation Board, in its “veritable encyclopedia of Peculiar Park Particulars,” claims credit for trying to avert this blunder, but was foiled by Richfield, whose borders hadn’t yet been turned back from the south end of the lake. To some degree, it makes sense that Richfielders would be in such a hurry to get to points north that they would pay the price of a lake’s spoilation to shed a minute or so of travel time. Contemporary judges should remember, also, that at the time Lake Nokomis still had the Minnesota swampy shoreline and may have felt more like an enormous morass than a resort paradise. But from a statewide perspective it is difficult to understand why this route was so important that it would have been ruined by a small curve to the west – according to Steve Riner, the highway (36) of which the bridge was a segment ran south only a few miles to MN-5 (about where I-494 is today), and only crossed the Minnesota River in the 1950s.
My Take on the Lake
Despite noise pollution from the airport and water pollution from Cedar Ave, Nokomis Beach remains a pretty hot summer spot. I remember an awkward work party there several years ago, where we munched on samosas and sipped 3.2 while screaming gremlins ran around us and middle-aged men showed the world exactly how little exercise they get. In other words, a classic beach scene.
So even though the lake is still brings aquatic pleasures, it is the principle of the thing that gives me a queasy feeling when I go over the bridge. Lakes should be for lake-like things, for example fish or ducks or inner-tubes. If you must use a motor on a lake, please let it be driving a boat. But part of this principled revolt comes from the fact that they seem to have built the bridge just because they could; for reasons detailed above, Cedar Ave easily could have been routed west around the lake.
Apparently I’m not the only one who is made queasy by this particular bridge. A facebook group dedicated to removing the bridge started last summer, and while it has relatively few members, it counts several local policymakers in its ranks. However, in a political environment where it is difficult to convince a certain party to spend money to construct something, it will be even tougher to persuade anyone to destruct something. This particular bridge seems to have been rebuilt recently, too, so it will be a while before it attains functional obsolescence.
Minnesota likes to trumpet its lake-iness, but has no qualms about destroying its liquid jewels. Other metro-area impaled lakes include Twin Lake in Robbinsdale and Anderson Lake(s) in Bloomington, although Lake Nokomis is more gratuitous than those two. Every time I cross it, I see that tiny amputated remnant and I’m reminded that anywhere I go, roads will follow me. Although there is no doubt that millions of dollars have been wasted to bridge this lake, maybe it is not a blunder. Maybe it is something more devious. Maybe it is there to remind us that in the USA our way is the highway, and the road to the open just leads to another road.