While it’s technically located on Grand Avenue, Mac sits on one of the “grandest” stretches of concrete I have ever seen.

The first weekend I spent in St. Paul, my roommate’s mom took my roommate Emily and I for a walk down Summit Avenue. Emily’s mom said that Summit, this regal avenue that risks seeming banal to those of us who see it so often, is one of the longest stretches of Victorian homes in the U.S. Sounds impressive. That night we passed the governor’s mansion, where I hear there are good parties. I’m still looking for F. Scott Fitzgerald’s childhood home. At least now I have the address, so my search perhaps will be more fruitful.

Fitzgerald, incidentally, said that he grew up in a “below-average house on an above-average street.” I bet if we displaced his home to my childhood street, the story would be just the opposite.

What I like about Summit is its link to living history. I can’t help rollerblading by each house without thinking, “Wow, this place was here a century ago. Its walls and windows witnessed so much change.” I’m always sad that walls can’t talk: they would recount interesting tales.

What I also like about Summit is its mix of nature and man. The pattern of houses, road, green-space, road, green-space, road, houses combines our urban presence with our rural roots. The road even links that palatial governor’s mansion to the even more majestic river.

That’s my favorite place to rollerblade and run: down Summit Avenue to the Mississippi River. Having grown up in Illinois, I have always associated the Mississippi with home. Like Summit, though, the river is famous for both its geographical length and historical significance. And its banks are beginning to look gorgeous in the turn of autumnal colors.

Will some people argue that Summit Avenue is merely an archaic, patriarchal demonstration of corporate success? Probably. Is there some metaphor in the expanse of mandmade houses that ends at the river’s edge? Probably.

I can’t say that I’ve seen the Sahara Desert or Mt. Everest up close and personal, but I can say I’ve sauntered in the footsteps of the likes of F. Scott Fitzgerald, at the edge of Mac, where the natural city seems beautiful.