“A quest to share inspiration from places built for people, reminding us that the choices we make about the built environment are just that: choices.”

— The Homage Project

Finding Antidotes to Sprawl

Interstate 4, recently named the most deadly highway in the country, intersects downtown Orlando. A $2.3 billion overhaul of 21 miles of the road is currently underway. By 2021, the region will have an even larger highway to its name.

Traffic delays on Interstate 4 are common. Transportation alternatives exist, such as bus systems and commuter rail, but struggle to compete with the "car is king" culture.

Andres Duany, renowned urbanist and author of the seminal work Suburban Nation, points out that infrastructure isn't cheap. Ever wondered how much it costs to build a road?

Residential subdivisions, a common occurance in Central Florida, often choose ironic names. South Walk, for instance, lacks sidewalks or other features that promote walking.

Cities used to grow incrementally, allowing small-scale developers to build a neighborhood over decades. Sprawl, on the other hand, turns large swaths of formerly undeveloped land into a countless, homogenous houses practically overnight.

State Road A1A runs along Florida's east coast, but doesn't do much to accommodate tourists and beach-goers who prefer to approach the sand on foot.

As development encroaches on rural land, it becomes harder to find two-lane roads surrounded by farm land in much of Florida.

Communities that opt to keep a road unpaved aren't just doing it for the aesthetics. Paving a road is far from cheap.

Unchecked suburban sprawl threatens native Florida ecosystems such as wetlands, pine flatwoods, and dry prairie. Pictured above, the Kissimmee Prairie Preserve State Park protects some of the last remaining dry prairie in the state.

A stark contrast to State Road A1A, the streets in St. Augustine's historic center boast greenery, sidewalk cafes, brick roads, and ample shops.

St. Augustine, the nation's oldest city, boasts a lively historic center that pre-dates the car by hundreds of years. People still can't seem to get enough of this pedestrian-oriented gem.

Not all of Florida is a maze of gated subdivisions, massive roads, and chain-dependent strip malls. In the downtowns of Ft. Lauderdale, Mount Dora, Orlando, St. Augustine, St. Petersburg, Tampa, Venice, and Winter Park, main streets bustle with people and commerce.

But beyond those downtowns are too few pedestrians and too many cars; unshaded sidewalks, narrow bike lanes and intimidating intersections.

The tangible and intangible outcomes of suburban sprawl are alarming. Far too many believe that more roads and larger parking lots are the only remedy for all of the traffic they create. In much of Florida, we have allowed a built environment that places a higher burden on those already strapped for cash. We have encouraged a development reflex that deprives us of social connections, endangers our health, and consumes an alarming amount of finite resources. We have created a transportation network that boasts the highest number of toll roads in the country. Most tragically, we have taken the prize of being one of the most lethal states for pedestrians and for motorists.

We at The Homage Project believe that all places, those built for cars and those for people, offer lessons about the profound impact of the built environment on the human experience. Starting in the United States and featuring places in Asia, Europe, and more, we strive to catalog streetscapes, public space, and neighborhoods that work for a variety of mobility options—and those that don't.

By documenting alternatives to auto-oriented development, we hope to help communities adopt a more equitable and sustainable approach to urban design.