In 2021, my family moved to 50 acres off Highway 70S in Bellevue. It was exactly what we thought we wanted after the pandemic: rolling hills, dense woods, and a hidden half-acre pond that felt like something out of a storybook. For my kids, it looked like endless adventure. For me, it looked like a great outdoor project.

After months of Zoom calls and home isolation, I replaced a gym membership for a 12” Ryobi chainsaw, bug spray, and daily hikes into the woods with my dog, Winnie. I didn’t have a grand plan. I just wanted to make the land usable for my kids. Each day I cleared a few dozen feet of trail, slowly carving out a winding path through the hills.

Eventually, my stubborn persistence turned into something I was proud of: a full mile loop in our backyard. My wife and I walked it daily. There were overlooks, clearings, even the occasional wild turkey, which Winnie immediately bolted after like she had just remembered an old vendetta.

We had space. We had nature. We had everything we thought we wanted.

But we didn’t have community.

Friends who came to visit didn’t come over to hike. When I could get my kids outside they preferred rollerblading in the driveway to exploring the woods. It turns out that even 50 acres can feel isolating if you don’t have people to share it with.

Two years later, I found myself renovating a small house near White Bridge Pike. – I always need a project.

I’d bring Winnie with me to the city each morning when I would drop the kids off at school. Then she would lie around as I spent the rest of the day patching drywall, painting, and learning to DIY things the hard way.

One afternoon, bored of painting baseboards and noticing Winnie had also hit her limit inside, we went for a walk. That’s when I stumbled onto a Richland Creek Greenway entrance.

What started as a casual walk turned into my daily routine. The 3.27-mile loop became my new “trail,” replacing the one I had built in Bellevue.

But something was different.

On the greenway, I started seeing people. At first it was just the Nashville nod – eye contact, a quick wave. Then it became something more. I’d run into friends, coworkers, other parents from school. Greenway strangers became familiar faces.

Nashville’s greenway system – now spanning more than 111 miles of paved trails – did something my backyard never could. It connected me with people.

Around the time my White Bridge renovation project was wrapping up, a house went up for sale in a nearby cul-de-sac – right off the greenway.

I floated the idea of moving.

My wife did not immediately share my enthusiasm.

“What? We just moved,” she said. “I haven’t even finished decorating.”

The greenway house was slightly smaller. The yard was an overgrown 0.2 acres. Not exactly the dream home we had envisioned.

I went to sleep expecting my wife to squash the idea. But something funny happened. She started making calls – to her parents in Crossville, to cousins in Nashville, to other school parents. The last call sealed it: she learned our son’s friend lived in the same cul-du-sac.

Suddenly, my “crazy idea” didn’t seem so crazy.

She had one condition:
“You have to take Winnie on a daily greenway walk. That dog is going to miss those turkeys.”

Four months later, we moved in.

That first weekend, we sat at the end of the cul-de-sac eating pizza while our kids rode scooters up and down the greenway with the neighbors. It was simple, but it was exactly the connection we had been missing.

Soon, my son was riding his bike to school along the greenway – never crossing a major road. I started driving less. Trips that used to require I-40 turned into walks or bike rides to Trader Joe’s or Publix.

The greenway became part of our daily life.

I ran the Richland Creek Run with Winnie each year. And in 2025, after an overzealous new year’s resolution, we both logged 1,000 miles running that 3.27 mile loop. My kids set up lemonade stands at the trail entrance and made more money than I expected – most of which was quickly wasted on Fortnite skins, but I was still proud they earned it.

More importantly, they found something I couldn’t make for them in Bellevue: neighborhood friends.

Now, instead of trying to convince them to go outside, I find them already there – playing flashlight tag, riding bikes, or chasing each other with overpowered Nerf guns.

It turns out kids don’t need private acreage for adventures. They need other kids.

That is the part of Nashville’s greenways that is easy to underestimate if you only think of them as recreational trails. They are not just places to jog, walk your dog or attempt to become “a runner” before your knees file a formal complaint.

They are civic infrastructure.

They connect neighborhoods, schools, parks and businesses. They offer an alternative way to move through the city that does not involve sitting in traffic, refreshing Google Maps, and wondering why every car in front of you on Charlotte Pike has to turn left. Greenways let families experience Nashville at a human pace.

They also reveal where the city still has work to do.

There are gaps in the system where greenways abruptly end and pedestrians or cyclists are forced onto busy roads. As a parent, that is where enthusiasm turns into hesitation. I love the idea of my kids exploring the city independently. I am less enthusiastic about that independence involving Nashville traffic, even with bike lanes.

That is why the next phase of greenway investment matters so much. Projects near me on White Bridge and Harding, like Belle Meade Village and NOVEL Richland Creek, have the potential to do more than add construction traffic. Done well, these developments can create safer connections between neighborhoods, businesses and public space.

For my family, the greenway did not just replace our backyard trail. It improved it.

It gave us a way to know our neighbors. It gave our kids a safer path toward independence. It gave us a reason to spend more time outside. It gave us a way to move through our part of town without defaulting to driving.

Most of all, it gave us a sense of belonging.

That is why I hope Nashville keeps investing in these connections – not as nice extras, but as essential infrastructure. 

If you have not explored your local greenway yet, this is a good year to start. Greenways for Nashville is promoting a 2026 Greenways Challenge, inviting people to run, walk, ride or roll all of Nashville’s greenways. Finishing all 111+ miles may sound crazy, but so did moving from 50 acres to a 0.2-acre yard because of a public walking path.

I am not expecting these greenways to make you want to move. But you might find a bit of connection you didn’t realize you were missing. At the very least, your dog will thank you.