Detroit

They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. But the people who shape the future of greater Detroit -- despite all the urban flight, sprawl, and decline they've seen -- just can't seem to acknowledge that they have an addiction to big highway projects. On the agenda Thursday for the regional planning commission, the Southeast Michigan Council of Governments, are two highway expansion plans that will cost an astounding $4 billion combined.

Detroit has perhaps the worst transit crisis in the country on its hands right now. Almost a quarter of Detroit residents do not have access to an automobile, yet transit riders have to endure an unreliable system where the bus might never show, making it harder for economically vulnerable people to access jobs.

Pittsburgh was the newest city to announce its bike-share plans this week, when it confirmed the city would add a 500-bike system by the spring of next year.

They call their mission "The Cause." And they say it's critical to solving Michigan's woes. Fortunately, though, the solution they have in mind is a simple one, and their name should make it obvious: "Michigan Needs More Parking."

If there's a city that could serve as a cautionary tale for overbuilding highways, that city is Detroit. So it's fascinating -- and encouraging -- to see this city going through an internal tussle over the wisdom of building a highway.

On Friday, state legislators in the Michigan House of Representatives made a momentous decision to approve a regional transit system for metro Detroit.

This morning, as lawmakers inside the Michigan statehouse heard testimony on the creation of a regional transit system for greater Detroit, supporters held a musical demonstration outside, singing "Ain't no mountain high enough to keep us from getting a regional transit authority." The singers, who hailed from the city proper and its suburbs, are hoping the divided metropolitan region can finally enact the transit unity that has long eluded it.

In central Detroit, on the site of a former railroad, there's a place just for bikes and pedestrians. In many ways, the Dequindre Cut is a cyclist's (or a jogger's) dream: a separated, below-grade bike path that at no point intersects with car traffic. It's wide enough for a two-way cycle track plus a path for pedestrians off to the side, so bicyclists and joggers don't have to compete for space. It goes right through the heart of the city, serving as a passage between two of Detroit's biggest attractions -- the Riverfront and the Eastern Market.

Late last year, Strong Towns writer Charles Marohn asserted that suburban development "operates like a classic Ponzi scheme, with ever-increasing rates of growth necessary to sustain long-term liabilities."