The Tale of Two Bridges--Bridge Two

Bridge Two had more humble beginnings than the Royal Gorge Bridge from the previous post, and began to take shape in the spring of 1984. We dumped a bid on a building lot in a cornfield, and snapped up this wooded hillside with a tiny creek running through it. Unlike the Royal Gorge Bridge, it had no sweeping vistas, no river, no dizzying heights, but it came with work guaranteed. We had to find a way to cross the stream to build our house so the process began with buying mud boots so we could slop around in the creek and install plywood retainers to contain the creek while we built the footers and concrete abutments. 

My engineer husband designed a highway-worthy bridge and we started playing with rebars and concrete to build our tiny bridge which is only about 8 feet above the little creek--not too tall, but I wouldn't want to fall off because we lined the creek with huge rocks. Occasionally, the little creek floods and looks like a river, so the concrete abutments aren't overkill. Our son and his neighborhood buds played in the creek while we worked. 

After much agony and sore backs, We had two concrete abutments, topped by three painted, 17" steel I-beams.

Like the Royal Gorge Bridge, we attached wooden timbers which are 12" long, 12" wide, and 3" thick. We only needed 15, but like the Royal Gorge Bridge, they have to be regularly replaced. We don't replace them at the same pace, but to date, most have been replaced 3 or 4 times. Our deck looked like the Royal Gorge Deck, just smaller.

Ta-Da!!! We did it. The little creek flowed freely when this picture was taken and Typar lined the driveway awaiting the blacktop process. We installed two very strong pipes on either side with chains attached so that when we left the construction site of our house which was up the hillside, no one could bring in trucks to carry away construction materials. It was too far to hand carry away stuff. Every night, we locked the chain and had no problems.

These pictures are very old, as are we, and so is our little bridge. It is quite unique and we enjoy it when we aren't working on it. It is very satisfying to drive over it and remember all the work we have invested in it over the last 27 years.


In 2011, the work goes on.

This fall, we undertook a renovation of our deck to try to extend the life of the timbers. Like the Royal Gorge Bridge, our timbers are bolted to the steel beams but our spacing is a bit closer. The rain and snow weather the timbers and we wanted to protect them.

Our little creek isn't far below the bridge and is usually only a small stream. During heavy rains, it can be a raging river capable of moving huge rocks and trees.

The view under our bridge isn't as spectacular as the Royal Gorge Bridge, but we invested a lot of hard work to produce it.

Our project to protect the timbers included covering them with a triple layer of 6 mil mylar sheeting and laying tongue and groove yellow pine flooring to form a solid deck.

This is our finished project. It took about a week of nice autumn weather to complete. Our little bridge has wooden curbs along the side like the Royal Gorge Bridge, but we didn't add steel rails. I don't know if they apply water seal coats to their bridge, but we did. We first saw the Royal Gorge Bridge after we built our bridge but each time I visit it, I am amazed that our humble little bridge has so many similarities.

We once had fanciful dreams of building a covered bridge over it, but I think we'll pass on that notion. It's fun to rumble over our little bridge as we go about our lives. It is a constant part of our lives and a reminder of the worth of a hard day's work. It will probably outlive us.

The Tale of Two Bridges--Bridge One

This is the Royal Gorge Bridge, built in Colorado in 1929. It is amazing that they had the means to build the world's highest suspension bridge at that time. It is a spectacular place to visit with vistas too breathtaking for words. It's not for anyone cautious of dizzying heights because it looks so fragile and so high. It is indeed a long way down to the Arkansas River--1,053 feet.

I like to include a trip to visit this amazing bridge anytime I visit the region.

Traffic can drive across the bridge from either direction or pedestrians can walk its length. Drivers are available to drive any vehicle across if its owner is the nervous sort. The size of the timbers spanning the deck aren't significant. They are three inches thick, and twelve inches wide. I'm not sure of the exact length of each board. They are bolted to the steel I-beams underneath. There are wooden curbs along the ends of the timbers, and a steel net rail attached. There is a steel framework underneath to which the wood is attached. 






As I looked down and took this picture of my feet, I was amazed that I could see the steel I-beams under the wooden timbers as well as the Arkansas River very far below. It is easy to see why one might think twice about walking on this bridge or driving over it. We were assured that it was perfectly safe. I didn't have a chance to see how they replace those timbers, because some looked overdue. It must be an interesting process to see. According to their fact sheet, 250 are replaced annually.

That's a long way down for a quarter. There is a train that runs along the banks of the river. There are also white water rafters but it is so far away, it is hard to see them.

So we hopped inside this cage which runs along an aerial tram all the way to the bottom.

We wanted to get the view of the bridge from the riverbank and it is so high, it is hard to see.

Halfway back to the top, I took this picture because I could see so much of the sky between the wooden timbers on the deck. There is a lot of space between some of the timbers. It is a fabulous piece of engineering, and just a little bit scary. Very impressive.










The tale of the second bridge will follow in the near future.

The Bridge

The bridge is long, tall, and the water is deep. It stands very gray and forbidding in a stormy night not fit for "man nor beast". As we start to cross the bridge, the deck can be seen stretching on in the distance, lit by some unknown source. The deck appears to be sections of macadam divided by grids of steel. The churning water below creates a foggy mist. As we reach the bridge midway, the deck starts to give way and begins to fall, and fall, and fall to splash into the cold, empty darkness. I remember thinking I can swim, but there is sharp debris everywhere. No matter which way I turn, there are obstacles. I feel very strong and confident anyway. I claw my way toward the direction I think is the shore. It makes no difference which direction I swim, whether back to the beginning shore, or onward to the other side. As I reach the shore, I am weary and drag my way onto the small stones and gravel on the beach. I look up to the area where the remaining bridge sways by mangled sections with a partial portion of deck still standing near the cliffs on both sides. I am elated that I escaped seemingly unscathed on the same side of the bridge where the crossing began. Suddenly, very strong arms drag me back toward the water and plunge me into its depths again.

That's when my self-preservation kicks in, and I wake myself from the nightmare that has visited me periodically for over sixty years. I haven't a clue where this strange dream originates from my strange mind, or why it appears when it does, but no psychological analysis couches for me. It happens when it happens. I find it strange that I am always viewing the same bridge in living color and looking toward it in the left of my vision. It sounds like a puzzle that House would love to tackle. Brain chemistry is such a mystery. It is fascinating to me that I have that particular recurring dream as well as several others. It isn't particularly upsetting as much as puzzling. I wake up thinking, Okay, that one again. There is no compelling urge to either explain it or stop it. After reading much literature on the subject of dreams, one thing is obvious, a lot of disagreement exists by the so-called experts on the art (not science) of interpreting dreams. I remain a skeptic.






The video above was taken of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge collapse, also called Galloping Gertie, of 1940. It opened in July 1, 1940 and collapsed into Puget Sound in November 7, 1940. I don't think my dream is related to that event, but it seems similar. Perhaps I saw films of it as a child and my imagination added to it. I'm not afraid of bridges; no vertigo for me. I think they are beautiful structures and I cross my fingers that all the decimals were in the right places when a bridge was constructed. I am eager to see the bridge in the photo below in its completed glory. This bridge was under construction near Hoover Dam when I last saw it.





My favorite bridge to date has to be the Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado.