Our goal for the month is to find some nice autumnal walks, in locations we haven’t yet had the chance to enjoy. Despite a lifetime of St. Louis excursions, there’s still a good list to work from, so check back each Wednesday for new installments.
When I put the question out to the good people of Facebook, the recommendations (all two of them!) for new autumnal walks came quite quickly. Chubb Trail, suggested photographer Laruent Torno, highlighting the bountiful views of the long, west county walking path. Ackert Walkway, meanwhile, was offered up by STL STyLe co-proprietor Jeff Vines, who wrote a paragraph-long pitch, making the University City pedestrian cut-through sound like an Eden dropped right here in the heart of our region.
Get a fresh take on the day’s top news
Subscribe to the St. Louis Daily newsletter for a smart, succinct guide to local news from award-winning journalists Sarah Fenske and Ryan Krull.
I wish that I’d saved his description, so I could just paste it in here and be done with it. See, I’ve been fighting a cold, one of the worst to ever strike me. With bones aching and energy at a premium, the Chubb Trail moved quickly out of contention for this past weekend. But the relatively calm delights offered by the Akcert Walkway sounded just about right.
Based on Vines’ description, I found the trail just behind the new(ish) Chuck Berry statue on Delmar. Now, allow me to date myself by reminiscing about The Wall. Back in the ’80s and ’90s, a literal wall stood just to the east of what’s now Fitz’s. Kids used to sit on it. The girls were all pretty, dressed in black, sporting Converse low-tops, mixing-and-matching their nail polish and hair colors. The guys all vaguely looked like John Bender and Lloyd Dobler, the stars of The Breakfast Club and Say Anything with trench coats worn year-round over a concert tee and some plaid shorts held up by suspenders. Ah, the good old days.
But The Loop’s a vibrant, and ever-changing place, and The Wall’s been replaced by the entry point to the Ackert Walkway, which extends from Delmar on the south to Vernon on the north. If I’m not mistaking Vines’ original note, this corridor was once a trolley line, which makes sense, given the trail’s ample width.
On Saturday, the late afternoon sun was already settling onto the pavement as I arrived, parked in a nearby lot, and cheated just a bit, starting a few dozen paces from Chuck Berry’s likeness and its bicycle racks and gingko trees. Instead, I strode onto the walkway at a non-descript point, curious as to what might await me. Turns out that this was a slow day for “local color.”
A large community garden sat quietly, understandable given that late fall crops take little tending; luckily for these urban farmers, some bok choy and arugula seemed to be hanging tough against the recent frost. A series of chess tables were equally absent of life; it was a cool day, so that was to be expected, too. A small playground, with a series of miniature, cement horses, was also empty. The only person I passed on foot was a Hardee’s employee, heading south as I went north, then heading the opposite way a quarter-hour later, another company’s fast food bag in his hands.
My single moment of “a-ha” urbanity came and went quickly, with church bells ringing as a Metro train took off, running down a close-by track. Otherwise, things were sedate with a few folks coming and going from the countless three-story, six-family buildings on either side of the path.
From a bit of online research, it appears that there was a spate of activity here in the spring of 2011, when students from the Sam Fox School of Design & Visual Arts at Washington University were involved in envisioning a new, jazzed-up version of the Ackert Walkway, which cuts through an area called Parkview Gardens.
The neighborhood’s online newsletter says that after one public work session, “The students asked for feedback, and after the presentations, residents and other guests were happy to provide it. The problem confronting any redesign of Ackert is that it is mostly lined with spaces and fixtures—parking lots, alleys, security fences and dumpsters—that are ugly but useful. Those of us who live here recognize how difficult it will be to replace the utilitarian with the charming. It’s good to hear from young people with fresh ideas.”
Someday, it might be fun to walk on the re-envisioned walking path, with all of the urban amenities that go into such a planned, funded space.
This weekend, though, the Ackert Walkway satisfied my most basic needs: it was new to me, and it was short enough for a sick person to travel in the span of 20-odd minutes. Three cheers (cough, cough, cough) to the continued small surprises around us.
