Being a consultant, my office changes on a somewhat frequent basis. For someone who is a creature of habit, this forces me to change my habits. In downtown Chicago, there’s a lot of permutations as to how I can go to and from the train station to my current office. Going home however, I always walk west on Jackson.
There’s a certain tranquility about walking west on Jackson in the evening during winter. The sun is about to set and there’s a warm glow on the horizon. There isn’t much of a hustle and bustle. Restaurants are closing. The street seems quiet. Nearly all pedestrians are heading west too.
I never walk with headphones in my ears because I like hearing my surroundings. The cacophony of the city can be meditative. Heading west on Jackson, all of the cars seem silent. There are no trucks because the deliveries were done earlier in the day. Even the El sounds quiet.
I take pleasure in seeing all of the cars heading east. There’s something satisfying about walking against the flow of traffic. Maybe it’s my inner contrarian believing all the cars are heading to work. Maybe it’s because I believe their commute is nowhere near serene as my walk.
Jackson provides a greatest hits of Chicago architecture too. I pass not one, but two Mies Van Der Rohe buildings. It’s no Picasso, but I take in the Flamingo too. Art deco buildings flank me with their concrete and marble presence. I walk under the El. I walk past Willis Tower. I cross the river.
I don’t have to rubberneck because there’s so much awe within eyesight.
Heading east on Jackson, I find the experience different. The morning light doesn’t set the mood like the evening sun. It doesn’t help that everyone is frenetic in their pace too. I feel like I’m slow compared to the taxis flooring it stoplight to stoplight. But it’s not just the lighting and the speed of walking on Jackson: it’s the order of events. Heading east from the train station, you see Willis Tower, then the El, then the art deco. Starting with the city’s tallest building seems to dilute the experience. Heading west you start with multi-level buildings and then end with the tallest juxtaposed against the river. The skyline’s reveal works better heading west.
A lot of streets in Chicago’s loop offer the same features I just discussed. On weekday afternoons however, all of those streets seem way more congested and loud. Adams Street, which is one block north of Jackson and the traffic flows west, has none of the charm of Jackson. It feels stark and utilitarian by comparison. There’s no eye candy at eye level. The pedestrian traffic seems heavier. Van Buren, one block south of Jackson, with its abundant parking garages and abundant El tracks overhead, feels like a service drive.
Prior to this project, I’ve walked west and east on Jackson a lot though mainly in the summer. In the summer heading west on Jackson in the afternoon is generally a horrible idea. Tourists and teenagers crowd the sidewalk. Obstructing a 10 foot-wide sidewalk sounds difficult, but these folks find a way to do it and it happens for several city blocks. Heading west on Jackson in the summer I feel like a salmon swimming upstream.
It’s winter now. The tourists and teens are hibernating and the locals seize the street.
I don’t know how long I’ll be on this project, but I’m glad I am because it’s changed my perception on a street I once avoided. I’m going to head west on Jackson as long as I can because there’s so much majesty that walking it once a day is not enough.