Ironically, a few days after my catch-up post about the Murray Avenue Bridge in Squirrel Hill went live, I unexpectedly found myself walking that bridge for the first time since 2012. The bridge looks mostly the same, slightly rusted but presumable functional as it hasn’t collapsed or been closed following a regular inspection. The stairs have been replaced though. I didn’t have a reason to go down them in 2012 and didn’t feel comfortable testing them out for the heck of it then. In 2025, the Urban Hike walk I was on came at the bridge from the street below and we climbed up the newish, solid-looking steps; a few of us (me included) pausing “for the view” on our way up.
The before and after photo pairs below don’t exactly line up, given the different angles and orientations of the photos, but it seemed a good opportunity to try out the image compare option. Before: August 2012, After: August 2025.
Duck Hollow is a mini neighborhood where Frick Park’s Nine Mile Run meets the Monongahela River in Pittsburgh. A handful of houses sit in the Hollow accessible only by an old one-lane bridge on a small spur of Second Avenue or the new bridge on McFarren Street that opened in 2020 (though it was only 2 years old at the time of the Bridge Report and presumably doesn’t see much traffic, it only received an overall grade of “good”). The houses of Duck Hollow are separated from the river by the railroad that crosses Nine Mile Run on the bridge above Second Avenue. These photos are from a walk my COVID-pod and I took of Frick Park in Fall 2020.
I walk bridges faster than I can post about them. Here are views of and from Pittsburgh’s Murray Avenue Bridge over Beechwood Blvd that I took when I walked it in 2012.
As I continue to explore the question “What is a Bridge?” I find that there is a structural, or form, perspective and a more philosophical, or function, perspective. In asking if the building in Chambersburg pictured above is a bridge, I earlier came to the conclusion that it is. That answer required searching beyond two standard dictionary definitions both of which required that the structure carry a path or roadway to qualify as a bridge. The Encyclopedia Britannica did not have that qualification and so I embraced their definition as I felt that this Chambersburg building and the backyards and buildings I discuss in Millvale should be called bridges. Structurally, these may be bridges, but philosophically are they bridges? Does a bridge need to allow movement across it to fulfill the purpose of a bridge?
Up to this point, I’ve been primarily focused on Merriam-Webster’s definition of bridge as a structure found in the built environment. There are many other definitions and types of bridges under their entry for “bridge,” starting with a time, place, or means of connection or transition. Other examples of “bridges” include the bridge of a nose, the bridge of a violin and other string instruments, the passage of music called a bridge that links two sections of the piece, a dental bridge, and a ship’s bridge. For each of these examples, the function of connection or transition seems to be the crucial part that makes them bridges.
In Buffalo, I also questioned the different between a structural bridge and a philosophical bridge. I proposed then that an overpass may be structurally a bridge, but philosophically if the primary purpose of the structure is to pass over instead of to connect then it is not a bridge.
Putting these ideas together, there is a difference between a structural bridge and the concept of a bridge. The Chambersburg and Millvale examples are structurally bridges, I believe, but their main purpose is to expand the buildable area. They are not intended to create connection and therefore they are not bridges.
In Chambersburg, PA, a historic town along the Lincoln Highway, the question of what is a bridge comes up again. This time, the specific iteration is: “Is a building a bridge?”
This question is a continuation of the one inspired by Millvale. When I shared my thoughts on the building/bridge and backyard/bridge in that town, I focused on the fact that those bridges were hidden from sight and are likely an important factor contributing to the town’s flooding issues.
The structure in Chambersburg, on the other hand, sits in plain view. To tackle this question, I think it is time to return to the formal definition of a bridge. I looked up a definition of a bridge for the first Pittsburgh edition of this series and seemed to accept that definition at face value. I returned to a definition of a bridge in the second Chicago definition to help define what a viaduct is. I again did not question the definition of bridge. Perhaps it is time to change that?
Merriam-Webster defines bridge as a structure carrying a pathway or roadway over a depression or obstacle.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines bridge as a structure forming or carrying a road, path, or (in later use) a railroad, etc., which spans a body of water, a roadway, a valley, or some other obstacle or gap, and allows a person or vehicle to pass unimpeded over or across it.
Both of these definitions avoid the interaction of buildings and bridges.
My first encounter with buildings on bridges was Pulteney Bridge in Bath, UK (photo of photo below). I was 13. It would be over a decade before I would start intentionally walking bridges. At that time, I declared, “That is one of the coolest bridges I’ve ever been on. There are shops on both sides of the road. You can’t tell you’re on a bridge.” (Notice the echoes of my later musings on the “bridges” of Chicago.)
The next most memorable building/bridge encounter was in Istanbul. The Galata Bridge is a 2-decker bridge with the lower deck full of restaurants with open seating facing the Bosphorus.
While both of these bridges also carry multi-modal roadways and therefore meet the two dictionary definitions of a bridge, they suggest the possibility of a broader definition of bridge.
As I did with viaducts, I next turned to “How to Read Bridges” by Edward Denison and Ian Stewart. Interestingly, they do not provide a definition for a bridge. They discuss bridge types – if the Chambersburg building is a bridge, it would be a beam bridge. They also discuss bridge uses. “Bridges are designed to satisfy a wide range of different uses from the obvious, such as vehicle, railroad, cycles, and pedestrian traffic, to the more obscure, such as carrying water. Many are even designed to cater to multiple uses.” (68) While they hint at “more obscure” uses, their chapter on uses goes on to talk specifically about pedestrian, water, vehicular, rail, and military uses. Buildings are missing from that list. However, their case studies do include Bath’s Pulteney Bridge and Florence’s Ponte Vecchio, which also includes buildings featuring shops and apartments on the bridge.
The Encyclopedia Britannica (Britannica.com) has the broadest definition of a bridge that I’ve encountered so far: Bridge, structure that spans horizontally between supports, whose function is to carry vertical loads. The prototypical bridge is quite simple – two supports holding up a beam – yet the engineering problems that must be overcome even in this simple form are inherent in every bridge: the supports must be strong enough to hold the structure up, and the span between supports must be strong enough to carry the loads.
By that criteria, the building/bridge in Chambersburg meets the definition of a bridge as it is a horizontal structure “whose function is to carry vertical loads.”
Moreover, this criteria suggests a broader interpretation of my framing question than I intended. “Is a building a bridge?” was intended to ask if a building built over a stream is considered a bridge. However, I wasn’t that specific in my wording and reading Britannica’s description of a bridge, it sounds like any building floor that is not the equivalent of concrete poured on the ground would count as a bridge. . . .Supports, beams, arches, piers, and cantilevers are all elements used in both bridges and buildings. . . .And so, the answer to the unintended broader question of “is a building a bridge?” may in fact be “yes.”
While there absolutely are structural similarities between buildings and bridges, I am not comfortable with a definition of bridge so broad that it includes all multi-story buildings and perhaps even some single-story ones. Perhaps a common distinguishing element between a building and a bridge is that bridges are designed to allow the free passage of air underneath the horizontal structure. That would make my working definition of a bridge: a structure that spans horizontally between supports, whose function is to carry vertical loads and that allows unobstructed passage of elements, objects, or animals, etc., underneath.
By this version of a definition of bridge, the building in Chambersburg is a bridge, the backyards and buildings in Millvale are likely bridges (assuming the stream has unobstructed passage below them all), but Heth’s Run Bridge while it was buried was not a bridge.
Millvale, PA, sits tucked in a valley that spills out into the Allegheny River at the far end of Pittsburgh’s 40th Street Bridge. Like all the valleys in this region, it formed over time by a stream cutting into the bed of the Allegheny Plateau. But when PennDOT announced the indefinite closure of two of Millvale’s bridges, I struggled to pinpoint their location. One of the two streets appeared to be nowhere near the streambed.
Then, in 2024, while I was primarily home-bound due to Long COVID and my mom sometimes took me along on her errands to help me get out of the house, she wanted to stop at a shop in Millvale. I thought I would sit in the car and wait for her, but as she was looking for a parking space, I noticed a barrier across one of the roads we passed with a sign that appeared to say “Bridge Closed.”
I investigated the closure while my mom went on her errand. Sure enough, on what looked like a street, just like all the other streets around, were jersey barriers marked with “Bridge Closed” signs (photo above). This street/bridge was the Lincoln Avenue Bridge that PennDOT had closed a year before. The only indication that this was a bridge was the “Bridge Closed” sign and the bridge weight limit sign on the right side of the bridge. A block over, Fremont Street had a similar barrier with “Bridge Closed” next to a bridge weight limit sign. Again, looking around from this bridge, it made perfect sense to me why I was unable to pinpoint its location on the map. (photos below)
While standing on the Liberty Avenue Bridge, it struck me if this road was a bridge, then what are the buildings and back yards on either side of the bridge in the direction of the pathway of Girty’s Run? Is the bowling alley a bridge? Is the back lawn of the adjacent houses a bridge? Do the people who live and play in these spaces know that they are on bridges?
I asked similar questions in Chicago as the ground shook beneath my feet with the passing of trucks and buses and as I walked over expansion joints. However, there wasn’t a river running underneath the Chicago ground-bridges. Those “bridges” enabled a variety of activities to happen while stacked one above the other as a solution to work with the density of the city.
In Millvale, the presence of bridges hidden in plain sight bothered me. I’ve heard over the years that Millvale has lots of trouble with flooding, in a region where flooding is common. That hearsay has left the impression that Millvale’s flooding is worse than average for the area. The municipal website includes directions for what to do when you hear the town siren give off flood warnings, which seems to support my impression. When I saw how much of the stream was buried under “bridges” made of roads, buildings, and backyards, it instantly made sense that flooding would be a major problem here.
Over my years of bridge-walking, I have come to see that intent is a part of the definition of what a bridge is. Most bridges seem to have the intent of connecting two (or more) points. However, in Buffalo, I encountered a bridge that the number one intent seems to be passing over an area. Millvale illustrates a third, vital component. The intent seems to go beyond just connecting two points (and passing over something, in this case, a stream). The intent here seems to include a demonstration that humans best nature . . . a demonstration that doesn’t appear to be working in this particular town.
I have dealt with the question of what is a bridge multiple times in the last decade. Buffalo adds to this philosophical conversation by combining the questions “what is a bridge?” and “what is the purpose of a bridge?” I’ve previous walked through what is the difference between a bridge and a ramp (Pittsburgh Edition I and Edition II), this time the nuance is “what is the difference between a bridge and an overpass?”
In Buffalo, the structure that carries Route 5 over what used to be largely industrial areas with some residential parts reads to me like an overpass. But sitting down to think it through, I realized that I may have to call it a bridge as well. It has all the structural components that are found in bridges: roadbed, spans, support. Yet, its purpose does not feel like a bridge.
While in Pittsburgh bridges divide the residents of the city, more typically bridges are about making connections. We use the term “bridge” metaphorically for building a connection. I see physical bridges as a structure that connects two (or more) points.
But Route 5 is not about connection, it is all about passing over. So can I call it a bridge?
I think an engineer would say yes. Since I started this philosophical debate of what is a bridge, the Fern Hollow Bridge in Pittsburgh collapsed, which led me to discover the Federal Highway Administration’s bridge database. It took a minute to figure out which dot on their map referred to Route 5’s structure, but I’m pretty sure it’s the one that is 1.38 miles long with 112 spans. The FHA, therefore, considers it a bridge.
From a structural viewpoint then, an overpass is a bridge; but from a philosophical one, an overpass may not be a bridge unless it is also a path of connection.
The week before Bridge Madness 2025, my aunt asked why I’m interested in bridges. The answer actually has nothing to do with the bridges themselves.
In 2009-2010, I volunteered in AmeriCorps in Pittsburgh, a city I thought I knew until AmeriCorps exposed me to a different side of the city. After 11 months of eye-opening experiences teaching me that Pittsburgh is far more than its downtown, museums, universities, and middle- and upper-income neighborhoods, I found myself attending a fundraiser at a house on Grandview Avenue.
Grandview Avenue is well named. It sits on top of a ridge directly across the river from downtown Pittsburgh, providing great views of the skyline and neighborhoods along the rivers. It is a popular spot to bring out-of-town visitors to show off the city and ride one of the two remaining inclines. I had been there countless times first as an out-of-town visitor and later as a resident bringing out-of-towners. The view from the street and lookout platforms is very familiar to me (and still fun).
But on that day in 2010, I suddenly found myself up 4 stories on a rooftop deck, looking at the same buildings, rivers, and neighborhoods I thought I knew and feeling like I was looking at a completely different scene.
It fascinated me that moving 40 feet made something familiar look brand new. As I stood at the railing pondering this, instead of mingling with the strangers who could afford a ticket to this fundraiser (unlike me who had been gifted a ticket), Pittsburgh’s iconic bridges were part of the view. I realized that the city would look completely differently from each of those bridges. And so I decided to start walking the bridges to continue increasing my perspectives and awareness of Pittsburgh.
The rest, as they say, is history. I thought it would be just a summer project. However, it has been so interesting….and there are still so many bridges to walk….that it has become a life habit. In the meantime, I have started getting interested in the structures themselves, not just the views from them.
Two days after I told this story to my aunt, I walked across part of the East Liberty Station Pedestrian Bridge (Bridge Madness Champion 2024) at sunset. This is not the first time I’ve been on this bridge going about my daily business when I needed to stop to take photos of the view of sunset. In this instance, I then immediately walked down the steps to the busway station below. My experience of the sunset changed completely with the change in perspective. From the bridge, it seemed spectacular, but at the sidewalk below I no longer recognized it as something worthy of notice.
Have you ever noticed a time when a slight shift in perspective changed how you viewed your surroundings?
Sunset from the bridge 2025Sunset from the sidewalk below the bridge 2025
The Mid-Hudson Bridge in Poughkeepsie wins Bridge Madness 2025 with 88% of the votes.
Thank you for participating in the 2025 Bridge Madness Tournament! I hope you had as much fun voting as I did watching the votes add up. There were several surprises in this year’s match-up. Multiple iconic bridges got knocked out early; and the Mid-Hudson Bridge inspired a strong following right from the beginning.
As a reminder, this year’s tournament featured suspension bridges visited by urbantraipsing nationally and internationally. Below is the completed brackets for Bridge Madness 2025. To learn more about the bridges, revisit the introduction which has links to posts on each bridge. Keep scrolling to see past winners and for an opportunity to send me feedback on Bridge Madness.
I’m already brainstorming for Bridge Madness 2026. Hope you come back!
Past Winners
Bridge Madness 2024: Pittsburgh Pedestrian Bridges Winner – East Liberty Station Pedestrian Bridge
Bridge Madness 2023: Pittsburgh River Bridges Winner – Smithfield Street Bridge
Bridge Madness 2025 Map
Send me Feedback!
Bridge Madness started from a conversation with one of urbantraipsing’s fans. I added links to posts about the bridges in the introduction this year based on feedback from participants in prior years. Now it’s your turn to send me feedback. Do you have suggestions that would make the tournaments more fun? Thoughts on how to engage more people in voting? A bridge you recommend I add to my list of bridges to explore?
Also, I make a postcard every year announcing Bridge Madness, if you fill in your address below, I will add you to my mailing list for next year (the postcard is the only mailing I will send you).
In the 2025 Bridge Madness Tournament, 16 suspension bridges go pier-to-pier in a reader’s choice tournament to pick the best one. This year’s tournament features suspension bridges visited by urbantraipsing nationally and internationally.
Results of the Final Four:
6th Street Bridge vs. Manhattan Bridge – 69% to 31%
Albert Bridge vs. Mid-Hudson Bridge – 15% to 85%
Below is the bracket for the Championship. To learn more about the bridges, revisit the introduction which has links to posts on each bridge.
Championship
6th Street Bridge – PittsburghMid-Hudson Bridge – Poughkeepsie
urbantraipsing 