Conceived 15 years ago, and with a master plan dating back more than a decade, CV Link is intended to connect the Coachella Valley’s cities via a 40-plus-mile paved pathway for bicycle, pedestrian, and (low-speed) electric vehicles. The project faced its share of encumbrance and detraction since funding began in 2012. Ground was officially broken five years later.
Olga Trehub
The Link will be fully ready to roll in late June. “I think about all the persistence, the diligence, [and] the hard work that’s gone into this by countless people and supporters,” says Tom Kirk, executive director of the Coachella Valley Association of Governments (CVAG). He helms the CV Link project. “It’s a substantial project – a massive project – and maybe had I known how massive it was to begin with, I may not have started it. It’s been a challenging experience, but also an amazing one. The vision hasn’t changed.”
Kirk is an apt captain for such a ride. Well-spoken, nicely attired, and sporting organized stubble, he could pass for Adrian Brody’s brother. Comments such as “Maybe, we’ll never be done” offer a glimpse into the left and right brain required to lead an idea of this magnitude and reveal that Kirk likely invokes da Vinci as much as he does DeWalt.
A cool customer like Kirk was needed to pave a path which, along the dusty trail, was encumbered when Indian Wells and Rancho Mirage backed out of the Link. Reasons listed included issues with costs and sources of funding. CV Link also had its share of critics – which, surprisingly, included occasional detractors from the cyclist community who were opposed to sharing it with electric vehicles like golf carts. Currently, such vehicles are allowed to use the Link. With the absence of support from Indian Wells and Rancho Mirage, the dream of a complete link between Palm Springs and Coachella cannot be realized. Four finished miles of the Link are orphaned in Palm Desert.
Myriad minutia further complicated the project, including acquiring rights-of-way from homeowners, landowners, water districts, Native Americans, multiple bureaus, and agencies with indecipherable acronyms. And yet, while acknowledging the power of hindsight, Kirk and his crew never abandoned their vision. From the beginning, the project delivered many benefits, including local jobs. Official hope that in the future, CV Link will lessen traffic and concurrent pollution while espousing the rewards of local health, tourism, and pedestrian/bike safety.
Olga Trehub
With the tenet of a (positive) big vision in arguably short supply in 2025, the fact that the Link is nearing completion made the journey sweeter. “It’s one thing to have vision; it’s another thing to execute and have the drive and commitment to keep it going,” Kirk says. “And yeah, I suppose there have been many times along this process where we could have given up or shelved the project. But, honestly, we never once entertained that we wouldn’t get to the finish line.”
One gusty, late March morning at the onset of spring, Kirk strolled the Link’s Promontory Point segment. Located near active Jefferson Street and running adjacent to the Whitewater Wash, this part of CV Link connects La Quinta and Indio. It’s set amid the longest stretch of linkage, which runs 14 miles from Washington Street to Airport Boulevard. Like much of the Link’s promise and possibility, the Promontory setting is also a future access point to the planned Arts and Music Line. Officials intend to connect pedestrians and bikers to the Coachella and Stagecoach music festivals.
On the March morning in question, five of the Link’s 42 miles are technically completed and ready for walks and rides. This includes the Palm Desert portion, which Kirk will subsequently visit. The remaining 35 miles are mostly completed and await final trimmings.
Ultimately, the Link will run from Tramway Road in Palm Springs to halfway to the Salton Sea (Airport Boulevard in Coachella). From his Promontory perch, Kirk acknowledges the breadth of the pathway and points to the still-snow-covered San Jacinto Mountains before pivoting in the opposite direction.
Olga Trehub
Echoing Kirk’s index, the color-coded Link answers in aesthetic. Constructed with continuity throughout, the solar-lit path sports orange lights and tubes that signal users toward the West (a reference to sunset). Blue lights and designs signify the East (an homage to the Salton Sea). The cost of materials, fixtures, lighting, concrete, workforce, and buildout were locked-in at an approximated, final tally of $120 million. While Kirk recognizes such heft, he concurrently (and aptly) notes that the price tag is a bargain by 2025 standards, considering the dramatic rise in material and construction costs post-pandemic, along with potential new cost increases due to tariffs for foreign goods.
As evidenced by the quality of construction at Promontory Point, the product is indeed of the high-end variety. In concert, the value of user safety always proved paramount to routing and design. “We’re particularly proud of the portions which run under streets,” Kirk explains as he strolls and points. “These undercrossing sections – each time we do that, it’s a huge engineering undertaking. [It’s] very complex and very expensive, but they’re crucial to ensure the focus of safety. Each time we do this, we’re saving lives.”
Olga Trehub
Kirk speaks about the complexities of the Link’s architecture. “It’s a rarity to come into an urban area like this and do what we’ve done,” he says. The executive director touts both prescience and flexibility of use of CV Link. He muses on the potential for a concurrent telecom path to the Link, which will serve as a setting for future modes and methods of travel and recreation.
Having vision means not being stuck in the present. “Someday, there will be a battery-powered hovercraft using this path – there will be,” Kirk says with a smile. “And this will be a safe place for that to happen.” As if on cue, as winds start to subside, two women stroll down the Link, clearly using the path for the first time. They stop, Kirk stops, and he politely ensues with an informal inquiry.
“Enjoying the path?” he asks. “How’d you hear about it?” The ladies answer in kind; they’ve come from Vancouver and, like snowbirds akin, revel in desert exploration. Kirk smiles and points, and the ladies stroll onward down the path. Kirk watches them leave, hands on hips, in a pose of deserved pride. Technically, the path that women walk on is not open yet. But, it will be soon.
Olga Trehub
