In praise of the Gardiner: the unsung benefits of Toronto's waterfront highway
If you've never been to Toronto, imagine a nasty, noisy highway snaking its way through the downtown core on a procession of decaying columns, like an overlong abandoned factory with the walls blown out. Now imagine the tonnage of ink employed by politicians, community leaders, and concerned citizens (but notably, not the concerned citizens of the Automobile Association) to denounce this relic and to call for its demolition. You now have a sense of Toronto's Gardiner Expressway that is second only to actually driving along its deck as it weaves between buildings, like Billy's dotted lines in The Family Circus. Once meant to be the most southern swoop of a network of freeways that would have crisscrossed the city, the Gardiner now ends abruptly on the eastern edge of downtown. The recent upswell in civic awareness among Torontonians, combined the gentrification of downtown, has resulted in a surge of support for the Gardiner's downfall. In this particular case, though, and for the first and last time, I must align myself with the Automobile Association and impatient drivers everywhere: I believe the Gardiner Expressway should stay put. Here's why.
First off, it's a blast. The view from the deck of the Gardiner offers a fantastic and novel view of downtown. Forget the observation deck at the CN Tower; this is the real postcard view of the city. With new condo towers sprouting along its route mere feet away from the lanes of traffic, a ride along the Gardiner feels like a commute through Tommorrowland.
One of the main rallying cries of those who seek its demolition is that the Gardiner cuts the city off from Lake Ontario, a block or two south of the highway's path. My experience is that it is the wide railway embankment just beside the Gardiner that is the true barrier, and that any surface road that would replace the elevated highway would be just as much of an obstacle. In fact, the aforementioned wall of condo towers is much more of a physical barrier between Torontonians and their waterfront than the soaring highway.
Finally, the spaces created underneath the Gardiner -- wide swaths of vacant land with the highway overhead serving as a cathedral ceiling -- are actually sublime and ripe for creative occupation. The highway's verticality itself is an urban asset, offering a contrast to the unending horizontality of Toronto's suburbs, and a counterpart to Toronto's other ceiling, the web of streetcar cables over the main streets.
One plan I uncovered through research for my Toronto Pending thesis was a scheme to 'urbanize' the Gardiner; that is, to build under, around, and even over the expressway, creating new, unusual, and creative spaces for people to walk, play, shop, and even live.
I realize that this sentiment runs contrary to the anti-car spirit of the age. Boston tore down its version of the Gardiner Expressway, and even though it cost a fortune and took forever. I have little doubt that Toronto will eventually follow suit. Right now, the Gardiner's only saviour is the generally speedy flow traffic along its deck and the glacial pace of politics in the city through which it weaves.