Bridges
DiLoreto photo
Like many in this town, bridges were on my mind last year.
On the northern tip of Ireland, in County Antrim, there’s a simple pedestrian suspension bridge, only 65 feet long and wide enough for one person at a time to cross. It connects two dramatic basaltic rock cliffs, one on the mainland and the other jutting out from a tiny island Carraig a' Ráid. The cold water of the north channel of the Atlantic ocean crashes loudly 100 feet below. The bridge is made of rope, wire, and wood. It was a windy, misty January afternoon when I stepped out on the first plank, feeling its sway. I wanted to get to the other side so badly, but I could not look down. I kept my eyes straight ahead and reached for the railings, willing my feet to move. It took less than a minute to reach the other side. Once there, I caught my breath, looked across the ocean in the general direction of Scotland, searched for orange-billed oystercatchers in the skies, and finally glanced down at the foamy sea, gathering my courage to walk back to safety.
Salmon fishermen came up with the plan to connect these rocks in the late 1700s, creating a way to cross and cast their nets. The bridge has been rebuilt many times since, mainly for tourists. A few years ago, a vandal tried to cut through the rope, but it was quickly repaired and reopened. It is now a World Heritage cultural site protected by UNESCO for generations to come. The bridge was closed during the pandemic.
In New Hampshire, Peterborough’s Main Street bridge was closed for the past 20 months, but only to automobiles. A prefabricated metal truss pedestrian bridge was secured in place before work began in earnest to replace the 75-foot historic bridge and restore its distinctive stone arch. Living close by, I walk over the bridge most days. It’s sturdy and beautiful in its own way. Looking down is not scary. The shallow Contoocook River flows underneath, calm unless it’s been raining as it did on Christmas Day 2020. That deluge swept away some of the construction work at the bridge site and caused a leak in my living room too.
Week after week, all day long for months, spectators paused on that pedestrian bridge to observe the Beck and Bellucci construction workers, many pulling out their iPhones to take photos and posting them on social media, documenting the work in progress. After much anticipation, the bridge opened to drivers on December 15th. In a few short months, we will see the entire Main Street bridge project brought to fruition, and we can stroll on the sidewalks from Granite Avenue to Main Street again.
The prior Main Street bridge was built after the devastating hurricane of 1938. After months of work, the September 12, 1940 edition of the Peterborough Transcript described the replacement as modern and picturesque, having 5-foot sidewalks, a 30-foot roadway, and reinforced concrete legs set 11 feet below the stream bed. It served us for decades. It also reused materials to provide historical continuity. The 2021 bridge is built to withstand the extremes of this century’s weather patterns and still looks pretty in pictures.
Author photo
While we wait for the finished product, I suggest a few other pedestrian bridges to visit in 2022 for the thrill, the photo op, or both.
Here are a few (nearish by) that I recommend:
During the last two decades, there have been efforts to open green space in the cities bordering the Hudson River: Poughkeepsie, Hudson, Albany, and Troy. One of the best is the Walkway Over the Hudson, a former railroad bridge. A few years ago, my son and I drove out that way on a college tour. We learned about this 1.28-mile pedestrian bridge, 212 feet tall and wide enough to accommodate walkers, runners, cyclists, people using wheelchairs, cyclists, skateboarders, and rollerbladers. The views of the Catskills and the surrounding bucolic environment are stunning. Despite its fame as one of the longest pedestrian bridges in the world, it is a cantilevered bridge built of natural Rosendale cement, giving me a very secure feeling underfoot. The fear factor for me was a 0. The photo-ops were a 10.
If you are in the mood for a cityscape, and a short walk, maybe on your way to a Boston hotel or restaurant, step over what was once the smallest suspension bridge ever, just above the swan boats in the public gardens. That little scenic bridge was constructed in 1867, and it now has support beams. I remember crossing it while walking over to Newbury Street from Downtown Crossing. It was usually crowded with a mix of tourists, performers, students, commuters, and wedding parties strategically posed by their photographers to capture the footbridge, the lagoon, and ornamental trees in one shot. It is lovely to see.
The city is reckoning with its postponed infrastructure repairs. Unsafe bridges and crosswalks cause several pedestrian deaths a year. If you are a fan of Cape Cod, you will be seeing the replacement of both the Sagamore and Bourne bridges on your travels soon (fingers crossed!)
French Canadian workers in the 19th-century mills walked from tenement apartments to their jobs every day. And, if you want to walk along a more extended walkway with a swagger, Androscoggin Swinging Bridge runs from Topsham to Brunswick, not far from Boothbay Harbor, Maine. It’s a 330-foot suspension bridge by the same designer as the Brooklyn Bridge. The more I read about bridges, the more I learn how vulnerable they are to weather and how expensive they are to repair and restore. After a 1930s hurricane, the Public Works Administration rebuilt it. In 2007 it was revived yet again through fundraising efforts. I plan to cross it in 2022 to feel that wobbly thrill underfoot again.
Happy new year!
