PATH400 Greenway
The trail threading the GA-400 corridor — Buckhead's answer to the BeltLine, growing segment by segment.
The Buckhead ledger runs past the zip line: 1 of its doors sit in a neighbouring zip — ledgered all the same, marked with their true zip.
Parks, free workouts, playgrounds, piers, mailboxes, shipping counters. No ads, no ranking games — just what's there, with its source.
The trail threading the GA-400 corridor — Buckhead's answer to the BeltLine, growing segment by segment.
The 1932 course on the Peachtree Creek battleground, rebuilt in 2018 as the country's rare reversible nine — Magnolia one day, Azalea the other. City green fees.
Saturday mornings in the Cathedral of St. Philip's parking lot — the largest purely producer-run market in Georgia.
Scogin Elam's 1989 deconstructivist wedge on Buckhead Avenue — an architecture pilgrimage that also lends books.
Peachtree Creek's floodplain green: 199 acres where the 1864 battle line ran, now holding the city's public golf and tennis.
Ballfields and playground behind Pharr Road — the village's backyard.
The 1930s neighborhood pool under the oaks — summer membership or day fee for the water, the park is free.
A 1920s neighborhood pond in Peachtree Heights East — benches, herons, and the ducks that run the place.
Atlanta's grand old public tennis house (1950s), clay and hard courts on the Memorial Park green — court fees, city rates.
What's on the walls and in the halls — street art, landmarks, movie scenes, the museums and stages of the ledger — and the zips this one is twinned with, by decree and by geometry.
The 1968 Greek Revival on thirty acres of West Paces Ferry — free public tours on select mornings, a governor's row tradition.
The granite remembering July 20, 1864 — Hood's first sortie against Sherman, fought down the creek this avenue is named for.
Philip Shutze's 1928 masterpiece for the Inman family played the Capitol's president in The Hunger Games: Catching Fire and Mockingjay. Grounds with History Center admission.
Atlanta twins by committee (Toulouse, Lagos, Daegu…); the zip twins by geometry — a French research outpost in the roaring forties, a Tibetan herding town at 4,500 meters, and Robinson Crusoe's actual island.
The antipode falls in the emptiest reach of the southern Indian Ocean — the nearest door is a French research station of a few dozen souls in the roaring forties.
Longitude flipped east lands on the Changtang plateau — Gêrzê, a herding town at 4,500 meters, is the nearest neighbor in a hundred miles of high grassland.
Latitude flipped across the equator lands in the South Pacific just short of the island that marooned Alexander Selkirk — the real Robinson Crusoe's village is the closest light.
The zip's other residents — the animals, plants and corals you can actually meet here, with where to find them and when they show up.
The creek's tallest fisherman, stalking the shallows below the golf course like it holds the deed.
The Duck Pond's permanent board of directors; bread is a bad donation, greens are better.
Rides the GA-400 thermals and the office-tower updrafts, auditing the squirrel economy.
June and July after dusk, the ravine backyards run their own light show — the South's free ticket.
Engineering revival along Peachtree Creek — fresh chew marks turn up between Northside and Moores Mill.
The old-growth resident of the park woods; some walking these ravines predate the golf course.
The canopy that earns Atlanta its 'city in a forest' line — Peachtree Battle's avenue oaks are the zip's real architecture.
Every way in, out and across the zip — the trains and where they're headed, the buses, the bike docks, a cab when you need one, and what to do with a car.
The Red Line perch over GA-400, one zip east of the line — the airport in about thirty-five minutes, no parking required.
The bus that runs the spine road end to end — Midtown to Brookhaven by way of every block that matters here.
Every café, restaurant, bar and counter on the ledger — typed and faceted straight from the knowledge layer.
The block's human makeup — the cohorts, the day-vs-night swell, the mix of who shows up. Set a lens up top and you'll see yourself among the neighbours.