What Portland could learn from L.A.

The image of Portland in urban planning and transportation circles is of a compact, walkable downtown, surrounded by leafy neighborhoods with vibrant commercial districts, all connected by light rail and innovative bikeways.

These things do, in fact, exist, and they are mostly wonderful. But Portland also has a dirty, not-so-little secret. There’s an entire district – representing about a quarter of the city’s land area and population – that is the exact opposite of that picture-perfect planning ideal. Think strip malls; cheap, poorly-designed multi-family housing; dangerous five-lane arterial roads with nowhere safe to walk; sparse transit service.

Welcome to East Portland. Often called “The Other Portland” or “The Numbers” – the latter a reference to its numbered avenues that extend to 185th – East Portland is a world apart from the popular Portlandia. It’s a case of planning gone awry – within the limits of a city famous for planning. Perhaps most tragically, East Portland’s shortcomings have made it affordable, attracting the very people that need sidewalks and buses to access food, schools and jobs.

SE Division and 122nd: Hard to believe this is Portland (except for the bike lane). Photo: author

East Portland faces many tough challenges, the result of a complex history that could easily fill the remainder of this post. But let’s focus on one key issue: those five-lane arterials and the auto-oriented land uses that line them. The streets, built by Multnomah County in the mid-20th century boom years, are 60 to 90 feet wide. In addition to hosting tens of thousands of daily vehicles traveling upwards of 45 mph, these streets have sporadic sidewalk coverage and few safe places to cross (traffic signals are usually a half mile apart). The center lane is a “suicide lane” where motorists make opposing left turns.

"Sidewalk" on SE Stark Street near 155th. Photo: author

Sidewalks, if they exist at all, are “curb-tight” – right up against the roadway, and penetrated by massive utility poles and signposts. The concrete walks start and stop, interspersed with footpaths where people have forged a track through the grass and mud. Immediately surrounding development, while offering the necessary trappings of modern life, is designed for cars, not people. Buildings are set back behind large parking lots accessed by multiple driveways that interrupt the already-questionable sidewalk.  East Portland arterials, and the development that surrounds them, are among the ugliest, most hostile forms of human development. Corridors like these exist in every American metro area, and they need to be fixed.

Is there a better model for busy arterial streets in East Portland and in other suburban areas of its ilk? Should Portland look inward to its tree-lined thoroughfares closer to Downtown – streets like Martin Luther King, Jr. or Hawthorne?  Should we look overseas to the grand boulevards of Paris or Barcelona? To the radial avenues of L’Enfant’s Washington, DC? To the New Urbanist design books by Duany and Calthorpe?

These are all good places to start. But I think there’s a better, more realistic model: Los Angeles.

Really?! Smoggy L.A., where the car is king, walking for transportation is only for poor people, and freeways are backed up at midnight on a Tuesday? Yes, that L.A. Contrary to popular belief, many L.A. streets – and I’m talking about the big ones – are pedestrian-friendly. At the very least, they are pedestrian-accommodating, which is more than can be said for many East Portland arterials.

Consider the following characteristics of L.A. boulevards (with the caveat that not all of these features are found everywhere in L.A.). Images below are courtesy of Google Maps.


Almost all L.A. boulevards have sidewalks – many of them 12 or more feet wide, and some with beautiful, iconic palm trees and other landscaping. Not every amble down an L.A. sidewalk is a magical experience (see South-Central), but at least the city has provided basic, far-reaching pedestrian infrastructure for its citizens. Portland has failed to do this.

Many larger L.A. boulevards (Wilshire, Santa Monica, San Vicente) have medians with trees and landscaping. Medians are not just visually appealing; they also create safer traffic conditions by limiting left turns and providing refuge islands at pedestrian crossings. Medians can make a six-lane thoroughfare seem far less intimidating.

Some boulevards in West L.A. have parallel alleys that allow for rear parking and loading. This is a boon for pedestrians, bicyclists and through-drivers, who don’t have to deal with endless driveway cuts and turning cars.

These boulevards with alleys, along with others sans alleys, feature buildings fronting the sidewalk with zero setbacks (with exceptions like gas stations and fast food). This traditional “main street” arrangement creates a pedestrian-friendly environment – at least when the buildings are amply fenestrated.

Most of the older L.A. boulevards place electric and other utilities underground. This removes the visual clutter of power poles and wires, and leaves more room for trees, ornamental lightpoles, wayfinding signage and bus shelters. South-Central is not as lucky in this regard.

Outside the boulevards, there is a consistent street grid. Small blocks and high intersection density promote a more walkable environment, and provide parallel, alternative routes for bicycling and walking. (Portland is often praised for its small blocks, but East Portland suffers from extremely large blocks with disconnected streets and dead ends).

For these and other reasons, Los Angeles has much to teach East Portland and other suburban jurisdictions with busy, wide arterial streets. L.A. is far from perfect, and I may have chosen photos from the city's nicer sections, but I find that L.A. accommodates pedestrians, transit users, and the safety of all modes, better than a large chunk of Portland – a surprising statement. It would be difficult, costly and sometimes unpopular to install the best features of L.A. boulevards in East Portland, but I think it’s worth investigating the feasibility of doing so.