Go to A Library and Check Out a Great Walk
By Robert Searns
No special equipment needed, just your feet. Walking can be your sustenance, the benefits multifold, especially if you do it every day — like brushing your teeth. That’s the credo I’ve adopted, not only for fitness, but for pleasure.
Typically, my routine includes strolling a route from my doorstep, though sometimes I look for something different. While backcountry hiking is great, I very much enjoy strolling in town. It could be through the city park or along a greenway, but I am particularly partial to walking through areas where you can experience not only the “green” of a city, but the grit, grain, and variety of a place. I usually plan these as two- to three-hour loops — I find the circle geometry preferable to the linear out-and-back. I try to identify places of respite along the way: a park, a shaded bench, a coffee shop or maybe a bookstore. And, importantly, I look for a good point of access, a fitting place to start and complete my walk. While there are many places from which to set out — a park, a convenience store, maybe a transit stop — I’ve discovered that a library can be one of the best “trailheads” or hubs for embarking on a walk.
“Why start a hike at a library? Aren’t they just stuffy, obsolete places where you’d see old seedy sorts hunched over the computer screens viewing who knows what? And, besides, with digital books, who needs a library?” That’s how one neighbor put it when I described my intended library saunter. I did not have a good answer, so I wondered about it as well. It had been decades since I’d been to a public library. But the after visiting a local library to take a break while on a walk I got a very different impression, it was a very pleasant place and maybe a great spot to start out on a walk. So, to test the idea, I decided to plot out a series of hub walks starting and ending at libraries. I soon learned that my neighbor was very wrong.
On my first library visit, I saw no “seediness.” Most libraries are clean, pleasant, welcoming spaces that serve a broad cross section of the population on a regular basis. In my investigation, I also learned that there are myriad ways libraries have evolved as critical community centers. They are much more than book repositories. And, in my case, they’re much more than places to start out on a walk. In our trying times of pandemics, climate catastrophes, divisive demagoguery and other travails, libraries are significant foci of face-to-face connection and community resilience.
“It’s a place to stay where you don’t have to pay or pray.” That’s how the librarian at the front desk of the neighborhood library where I started my first two-hour library hub walk put it. Indeed, her quip greatly reinforced my new perspective about libraries as in-town walking “trailheads” — readily accessible, welcoming, public spaces to start and complete a stroll. They are also places where one can take refuge from a rainstorm, use the restroom or just sit in pleasant surroundings. Priceless!
How did this valuable public amenity evolve? Traditionally, they were essential storehouses of knowledge — since ancient Alexandria and even before. Originally housing scrolls and stone tablets curated by people who loved knowledge, libraries have significantly adapted and progressed. Today, they are popular gathering places, with more than 4 million daily visits to over 9000 libraries in the US alone. Along with bookshelves, libraries offer computer terminals, meeting rooms, and places to read, work, study, and socialize. They house and facilitate numerous programs: story times for toddlers, festive events, and book talks for seniors.
Some libraries host organized group strolls, maybe with a training talk by an elite athlete or taking a Walk with a Doc® plus other health and fitness events. Besides books, you can check out items like hiking gear, a bicycle or even tools for a home project. And libraries offer community services like guidance for immigrants, English classes, mental health counseling, and assistance for homeless patrons.
Social scientists and psychologists now refer to libraries as a great example of “third places.” In this framework, first places are our dwellings, where we sleep, eat, and spend time with family; second places are workplaces or schools (though covid and enhanced online capabilities have blurred the line between first and second places). Third places are community gathering spots like coffee shops, brew pubs, fitness clubs, bookstores or…libraries. These spaces are defined as social gathering spots where we can feel comfortable and be around others. Note that you don’t necessarily have to interact with the other people in third places, simply being around others, for many, can suffice. I believe that librarians who host these important third places are special people. They are welcoming and ready to be of assistance to anyone — a teen, a senior, a child, an immigrant.
When it comes to resilience, libraries are now crucial. In the face of storms, flooding, extreme heat or cold, power outages, pandemics, social upheavals and other contemporary challenges, libraries offer easily accessible, neighborhood-based places to connect — not just virtually, but “in real life.” They are places to find shelter, water or get online. They can be emergency information support hubs, and even assembly points where emergency workers can gather.
Jessamyn West, a Vermont Librarian and recognized libraries expert, observes that “people are finding in the wake of the natural disasters that we’ve seen…that getting the library up and running with Internet connectivity or air conditioning or clean bathrooms or a place that you can plug in your phone really has benefit to a community that’s in a recovery situation”
Many communities have established protocols for engaging their libraries in disaster recovery. One strategy is to train city staff, including librarians, to redeploy as emergency workers. Staff can then disseminate information, set up testing and vaccination stations, do contact tracing, run food pantries, or even facilitate daycare services for the children of first responders. In fact, libraries have been classified as “an essential service” by the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA). Equipping libraries with emergency generators and other support infrastructure would greatly strengthen this role.
Coupled with emergency preparedness, the day-to-day connecting role of libraries as third places can help combat the national epidemic of loneliness. In this article, Gautami Palanki notes that “…the myriad ties that link people and communities together — can speed recovery and even save lives in a crisis. She adds “…connections flourish when people have places to interact…public parks, libraries, community gardens…coffee shops…and with these readily accessible built points of connection they are “more likely to know about resources and services.”
In considering the broad new functions of libraries, we can also think beyond what goes on beyond the library walls. Visionaries like Noah Lenstra and other library experts show that the outdoor areas surrounding library buildings can become green activity complexes. Already, many libraries have outdoor playgrounds that connect to the children’s sections. Libraries are partnering with parks agencies and planners are attaching mini parks and urban forest nodes. They are exploring trails links to libraries, configuring them as trail hubs and even creating book-themed outdoor “story trails.” Offering bikes and hiking equipment — like books — to borrowers can help bolster this function.
Expanding on the green hub notion, some libraries offer community garden and urban agriculture projects where seeds and tools can be “checked out.” And there are “safe routes to libraries,” programs pursuing better walking and bike access. Other groups are exploring the concept of libraries as transit stop hubs. Each of these strengthens the expending outdoors access and urban placemaking role of libraries.
Sadly, for all the good they provide, libraries are under siege. Increasingly, they are being mischaracterized, by a vocal minority, as purveyors of deviant, socialistic and other offensive materials. At the behest of some of these extremists, librarians now face “citizen inspections” in search of offensive materials. Some have been physically threatened and state legislatures have singled out librarians as subject to criminal prosecution if unacceptable content is found on their shelves. Some jurisdictions have attempted to cut funds citing the threats of allegedly perverse content. Ironically, in a time when libraries are so important to civil society as sources of information and knowledge, they are endangered by widespread disinformation.
Now, let me tell you about my library walks…
To prepare for my first library hub walk I opened Google Maps and found several nearby public libraries. It was mid-May, so the weather was sunny and ideal, though a library hub walk can work nicely in any season. I picked a neighborhood library in an older town center near where I live. I then looked for parks, bookstores, lunch counters, and, in this case, a tea shop, and used the “direction” tool in “walking mode” to plot out an optimal three- to four-mile “green” loop that avoided barriers, heavily trafficked streets and desolate areas. I considered places to duck out if an afternoon storm rolled in (common in where I live), find a restroom, or buy a drink to remain properly hydrated. The loop geometry, starting and ending at the library, enables you to cut back across the radius and get back to the library to find cover, catch your breath or attend to any other unanticipated pressing need.
I packed a daypack with a quart of coconut water (for hydration and electrolytes), a light long sleeve pullover, an energy bar and a collapsible walking stick (if needed). I also carried my cell phone — good for replotting my route along the way, checking weather, or listening to an audio book. I also opened RunKeeper, a great app for recording my walk. Arriving at the library, I went inside to get a sense of the place. At first, I felt a little tentative and out of place with my scruffy hiking garb and daypack, but the environs were pleasant and welcoming. Then, noticing a snoozing itinerant kid with a backpack and attached skateboard, I felt more like I fit in. The librarian told me “Yes, people CAN sleep here and for that matter, use the restroom or drinking fountain all day. They just must be out at closing time. And these folks are NOT a problem. In the rare instance of a disturbance, we have management policies in place that work well to gently but firmly escort those that create a disruption out.”
For me, as an urban day trekker, that sounded great. As the “hub” on my newly formulated walking loop, this library gave me a pleasant place to sit before and after my walk, access to the facilities to meet bodily needs, even a place to duck out from the weather if need be. I was warmly welcomed and the librarian, hearing my plan, suggested places I could stop along the way, including a coop coffee shop/lunch counter she thought I would like.
Departing from the library, I followed a local street with flowering crabapple trees, fragrant lilac blooms and even a yard with two lounging horses — an interesting anomaly in the well-established residential neighborhood. After a block or two, a gravel pathway beckoned me into a small park. Taking a break in the picnic shelter, an elderly Hispanic gentleman told me he was planning his 75th birthday party there on Saturday and invited me to the festivities. He then told a brief but intriguing story about growing up with a family of fourteen in a converted railroad car in Wyoming. He offered me a warm hug and wished me well on my continuing midday trek.
My route then took me through more park greenery into the community’s small historic downtown. There I spoke with the owner of a just-opened bookstore who shared her aspirations as a writer and small business owner. At the next stop, I browsed dozens of drawers filled with fragrant teas in a tea shop. The owner told me they had been there 16 years, and their place was a favorite gathering spot. Next, I reached the coop coffee shop/lunch counter that offered shaded outdoor tables. I then looped back, stopping at the local community college library and the town’s historic cemetery before returning to my point of beginning. This is just a vignette of an on-foot trip that offered a great sampler of places and people, in a large metropolitan area.
Inspired by this first library hub walk, several days later, I made a second similar journey, this time starting at a library center in a sprawling suburban area. The branch library I chose sits between a strip mall district and a large regional park. My goal was to lay out a two- to three-hour walk that would avoid the expansive parking lots around the shopping centers to afford a more green, pleasant experience. And I did not want to walk on the noisy, fumy arterials that run through the heart of the area. With the Google Maps tool, I noticed a path that curved north of the shopping malls and wove through a residential area with tree-lined sidewalks. “Perfect!” I thought. Pleasing me further, Google showed me a superb linear park that completed a large segment of the south side of the circle. I loaded the walk on my RunKeeper app, packed my water bottle and checked the weather forecast. The scattered thunderstorms prediction was a little concerning but, being near a largely commercial area, I knew there were plenty of places to take refuge, if need be.
After briefly talking with the librarian to get a feel for the place, I set out. At first, I was confronted head on by the stark parking lots and big boxes, but a verdant golf course on the other side of the road gave me substantial visual relief. By happenstance, the first shopping center I encountered provided a shaded seating area next to the sidewalk. I thank them for their foresight. Note that happenstance is one important and delightful aspect of almost any saunter. The next segment meandered through a mix of apartments and single-family homes but there was a landscape sidewalk all along the way. And that portion of the route offered pretty good people-watching as the locals went about their lives — putting a kid in car, unloading groceries or tending to shrubbery. As I began close the loop to head back, I entered a long, grassy linear park with trees, flowering shrubs, a recreation center, a school and a tot lot full of parents and kids. A curious 4-year-old eyed me, and her mother nodded hello and smiled. From there, the trail continued adjacent to a creek.
A short way down that path, as I watched a family of ducks make the most of the stream, I heard the rumbling of thunder, and the skies grew dark. I looked at my phone weather app and the radar showed that a storm was about fifteen minutes away. Not fond of being exposed to lightning, I began planning contingencies. I noticed a small shopping center and a Barnes and Noble not far down the path. Turns out this was ideal. I went in, ordered coffee and browsed. After 20 minutes or so, the storm lost its umph and I completed my loop following a lakeside path from the bookstore to the library.
In wrapping up this depiction of libraries as resilience centers and walking hubs, let’s take the library sauntering microadventure notion a step further. What if we visualize each neighborhood library as place where you can find “bookshelf” full of mapped out on-foot routes — tailored to that library. Maybe there’s a concierge desk where a “walk librarian” could help you plot out your journey, connect you with a guide or walking aid, or, in the spirit of the “walk with a doc ®” concept, find you a “coach” to stroll along with you. Libraries could also partner with area recreation centers and with seniors’ communities to encourage and enable people to regularly walk. (Turns out I had the opportunity to go on two group walks organized by a neighborhood branch of the Denver Public Library.) And, why not have specially equipped “sports mode” walking aids or wheelchairs that could be checked out from a library, making it easier for those with mobility challenges? Could we incorporate a “find a library hub walk” into apps like Google Maps or RunKeeper?
In the spirit of sustainable travel and broadening the range of experiential opportunities, let’s also think about creating a global network of libraries that serve as hubs for walking tourism. Typically, no matter where you go, there is considerable predictability when it comes to libraries. They tend to be genteel, welcoming places with a receptive, knowledgeable host at the front desk. Knowing this is certainly helpful when planning trips. What if libraries worldwide had palettes of on-foot sightseeing tours that you could “check out”? What a great way to encourage and enable tourists to feel more comfortable in a strange city. Also, getting around on foot is a more sustainable mode of travel. So, for your next outdoors experience, why not pick a library as the starting point? Make it your own hub, plot your route and be amazed at what you’ll discover!
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Robert Searns is the author of Beyond Greenways: The Next Step for City Trials and Walking Routes (Island Press, 2023), as well as having served as editor of the Trails and Beyond online magazine of The World Trails Network. Searns has worked as an urban trail and greenways planner and developer for four decades. He was project director of Denver’s Platte River and Mary Carter Greenways — both national-award-wining projects. He helped plan the Grand Canyon National Park Greenway, played a key role on the Memphis Wolf River Greenway, and authored the Commerce City, CO, Walk, Bike, Fit Master Plan.
