Gov. Rell to assign task force investigating vanishing sidewalks

I know I said my last post on West Hartford's vanishing sidewalk phenomenon was to be my last (for a while), but this stunning development has caused me to write one more piece.

I received an email from none other than M. Jodi Rell, Governor of our fair state. It appears she's pretty concerned about our sidewalk situation:

Dear Ben, Let me begin by saying I'm a big fan of what you do. I check your blog at least twice a day. And, in reading your postings, I have grown quite concerned about West Hartford's "vanishing sidewalk" phenomenon. That's why I'm launching a task force to investigate these bizarre oddities. I plan on finding, come hell or high water, why these sidewalks abruptly stop and what we can do to prevent future sidewalks from meeting the same fate.

She went on to praise me a bit more and to badmouth a few of the commenters that have left mean feedback over the past few months.

I must say, I was pretty shocked by the email. Who knew the Governor cared to spend taxpayer dollars on something so important to so few?

She plans on making sure the program has it's first report on her desk by April 1, 2010.

Vanishing sidewalk goldrush

This will be the last vanishing sidewalk post for a bit. I think I may be going a bit overboard lately. I need to curtail the curb hunt. Tuck away the footway.

Until then, let me leave you with two more discoveries. The first is probably the only vanishing sidewalk that makes a whole lot of sense. It's located on Park Road, right before the on-ramp for 84:

At least here I can see the reasoning behind the decision to end the path where they did.

"What're you doing over there? You're gonna make people walk straight onto the highway!"

"Dang, you're right. What should I do?"

"Just stop your work where you are. They'll know not to go any further."

"Should I pull up what I started? I think -"

"I ain't paying you to think!"

Anyway . . .

The second location just may be the motherload of vanishing sidewalks: Fairfield Road. The good folks over at Connecticut Museum Quest pointed me in the right direction here. Wow, there are a lot of vanishing sidewalks in this area!

Here's the corner of Fairfield with Plainfield Road (what boring names for streets. "Hey, what're you going to name your road? Mine's Fairfield." "Oh, I don't know . . . Plain . . . field?" "Man, you're a genius."):

(I should note that all of the images in this post are from Google Street View. It's too rainy here in West Hartford today to go out with the camera.)

A little further up Fairfield, at the intersection with Longlane Road (another brilliantly named stretch of pavement), you get a vanishing sidewalk on three corners. Here's just one:

When Fairfield ends at Lostbrook Road (finally, a cool road name), there's another vanishing sidewalk:

That's a lot of vanishing sidewalks for one road.

Vanishing sidewalk x 4

This may be a bit of a controversial awarding, but I'm calling vanishing sidewalk on Trout Brook Terrace. The jug handle road, conveniently located off of Trout Brook Drive, not only has vanishing sidewalks on one end, but the other, as well.

Yes, some may say that these little nubs of sidewalk that hook off of Trout Brook Drive don't count as true vanishing sidewalks, but the fact that they begin at all makes it seem like a sidewalk should be where it isn't.

Sorry for the bad photos. You don't realize how awkward taking photos of the ground is until you catch someone watching you do it.

Vanishing sidewalks 4: The return of vanishing sidewalks

Quite a while has passed since my last report on West Hartford's strange problem with vanishing sidewalks. I suppose the snow has been to blame. Hard to see if a sidewalk vanishes when you can't see the sidewalk in the first place.

Today's vanishing sidewalk comes to us from Trout Brook Drive, right in front of the Children's Museum. Got to give the museum props for using the abrupt end of the walkway to their advantage, as they've place a placard advertising summer camp right where the grass begins.

 

Vanishing Sidewalk #3 - In 3-D!

Here's number 3 in the seemingly endless series of vanishing sidewalks here in West Hartford:

This one is found on Albany Avenue, near Prospect Avenue. Unlike the other vanishing sidewalks I've come across thus far, this one certainly falls more into the "aw, screw it" category of ending sidewalks, as the asphalt just slowly peters out, leaving the confused pedestrian to hustle across 4 lanes of traffic to get to the sidewalk on the other side of the road.

Following the tradition of many movie franchises, I've decided that this 3rd installment of the Vanishing Sidewalk series should be in 3-D. So, get out your red and blue glasses and prepare to have your mind blown:

I don't think this actually works, but I don't have any 3-D glasses to check.

Yet another vanishing sidewalk incident!

A couple weeks ago, I posted about a sidewalk in West Hartford that I came across that just - well, ended. No crosswalk, no slope to the street. It just stopped. I wondered in my post if this vanishing act was what Shel Silverstein meant when writing his book Where The Sidewalk Ends.

The other day, I came across another of these abnormalities. This one is on Fern Street. Here's a photo, hastily taken from inside my car:

Like the other vanishing sidewalk, this one just ends without warning. Something makes me wonder if there's a secret transport beyond the cement slab, bringing you from one vanishing sidewalk to the other, kind of like in the board game Clue. If so, it would be a much easier way to get across town. But, something tells me this isn't the case. 

Boy, first it was sidewalk holes, now it's vanishing sidewalks. I must really be getting bored to notice these things!

Where the sidewalk ends . . .

I came upon this while running a week or two ago and finally got around to taking a picture. The location is a few miles from my apartment, on King Philip Drive. Somehow I don't think this is what Shel Silverstein had in mind:

I don't think I've ever come across a sidewalk that just . . . stops. No warning, no signs, no crosswalk to get you across the busy street to the other sidewalk, just . . . nothing. Very odd.