FEATURE: Where the Sidewalk Ends Part 2– Assessing our sidewalk situation

This is part two of a special feature series. The remaining two will run next week.

By Laura Hunt Miller

Last time we looked at why sidewalks matter. Now let’s look at how Ruston’s stack up.

Although we try, bless our hearts, Ruston is not a walking-friendly town according to WalkScore.com. The website scores cities from 0-100, zero being a place that is completely hostile to walking, and 100 signaling a true “pedestrian paradise.” Ruston has a 25 out of 100.

This rating places us firmly in the “car-dependent” category, meaning most errands require a car, even for short distances. Sound familiar?

Towns with a score of 25 typically have gaps in 50-75% of their walking paths to basic amenities. To feel walkable, towns need 80–90% continuity on key corridors, with continuous sidewalk on both sides of the most traveled routes.


Those numbers aren’t abstract. They show up in everyday frustrations:

• Caretakers having to push strollers into busy streets or over rough terrain when sidewalks suddenly end.

• Students picking their way along muddy shoulders or cutting across yards just to get to class.

• Seniors and people with disabilities facing literal dead ends in what should be public rights-of-way.

The fitness app Strava, designed to map its users’ workout paths, shows that the most used walking and running routes in Ruston cling to a handful of corridors. The rest of the city appears to be void of areas that feel safe or feasible to walk.

Strava walking paths heatmap of Ruston; the lighter the path, the more it is utilized. This map certainly demonstrates, “if you build it, they will come,” with the Rock Island Greenway showing the most use.

This isn’t just a sidewalk gap. It’s a connectivity gap. Every missing link is a barrier to health, independence, economic vitality, and to the simple dignity of being able to move safely through one’s own hometown on foot.

I’m fortunate to live in a neighborhood with streets wide enough for both walkers and cars. In fact, many non-residents drive here just to walk. When drivers speed through though, especially when our kids are with us, an inevitable tension arises.

That’s the difference between incidental walking space and intentional walking space. Wide streets may function as a stand-in for sidewalks, but they can fail to carry the same sense of safety. Every step in a non-designated walking path depends on trust; trust that drivers will slow down, trust that accidents won’t happen.

A fragmented network doesn’t just make walking unpleasant; it makes it nearly impossible for many people. So what can we do about it? In Part 3, we’ll explore proven strategies towns are using to stitch their sidewalks back together.