A Walker in the Suburbs

Metro’s massive rehab project has me once again scrambling for a way to work, switching up my commute. Today a predawn bus and a walk to the office from Army Navy Drive.

Crystal City is not what I would call a walker’s paradise. It’s honeycombed with expressways and hotel driveways. But hey, it has sidewalks and, more to the point, it’s my work ‘hood. So I’m getting to know it, block by block.

This morning a welcome breeze, a dearth of traffic (it was early) and 70-degree temps made the stroll delightful. I passed dog walkers, joggers and a few people who looked like they had yet to go to bed from the night before.

In other words, a motley crew — and fun to observe. Just further confirmation that it’s the right way to start a day, on foot.

A late day walk yesterday gave me time to leave the neighborhood. I turned right on Folkestone and headed to Franklin Farm. They’ve mown the tall meadow grass there now, and the field was looking brown and parched. But the sky was blue, the clouds were puffy and the air was exquisite. 

Yesterday’s walk from the Rayburn Building to L’Enfant Metro was bright and breezy. It was after 11, and the lunch trucks were already attracting a crowd. I strolled passed the west lawn of the Capitol, down Independence, past the Bartholdi Fountain, under renovation (wasn’t it just under renovation a couple of years ago?), along the backside of the Botanical Gardens, their glass windows and dome vaguely Victorian in look and appeal. I passed the American Indian Museum, its sinuous curves and yellow stone a standout in a town of angular white buildings.

It was warm but the air was moving, and it blew the hair off my face. I doffed my jacket and swung it along.

This was no recreational amble. It was a functional walk, a path from A to B, from a work function to the office. But it felt liberating to be out in the late morning bustle. A gift.

It was D.C., it was still summer, it was a good walk.

Yesterday’s walk was a lunchtime getaway, and a longer one than planned. I took off down 23rd Street to Arlington Ridge Road, a thoroughfare I’d read about and wanted to explore. It is indeed a ridge road, and getting to it was a bit of a hike.

But it was winding and green and as I glanced up the hills at the rambling mansions, I thought about the history of it all, going all the way back to the Custis family.

As my thoughts were wandering, my feet were flying, and before I knew it I was at Four Mile Run, a full mile or more away from where I meant to end up.

It was 90+ degrees, my feet were tired and my face was flushed, but there was nothing to do but push on in that way that’s all too familiar, the way known to all walkers who’ve been so enthralled going in one direction that they fail to think about how long it will take them to get back.

Twenty minutes later, I was glad to see the Crystal City high rises swing into view. And the super-chilled office air was for once just right.

(Photo: Wikipedia)