A Structurally Unsound Bridge

This year’s Architectural Dessert Masterpiece was inspired by a trip to Vermont where I explored 14 covered bridges within an hour’s drive of Rutland. I was surprised by the amount of variety in these bridges. Most were only wide enough for one car lane, but one was definitely made for two-way traffic and a couple had sidewalks incorporated. The colors and shapes varied from bridge to bridge. Some appeared to be based on a truss-type structure while at least one looked like it had an arch infrastructure. Ages also ranged from the 1830s (Taftsville Bridge) to 1970s (Quechee Bridge). You can view all 14 bridges in the slideshow below.

Sadly, shortly after construction, my covered bridge experienced a collapse. While the incident is still under investigation, an anonymous authority stated that the collapse is believed to have been trigged by a motorist exceeding the posted 5 mph speed limit.

I’m surprised that this is my first total collapse over the eight Architectural Dessert Masterpieces that I’ve created. My first, the Parthenon, experienced a partial collapse that actually made it look even more like the original. The next closest to disaster was the Marina Tower that merged into the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

The collapse highlighted several tips for future constructions. First, I confirmed that pretzels really do make excellent piers as I originally demonstrated in my Pittsburgh suspension bridge. Second, I learned that wheatless gingerbread still has the same (or similar) strength as traditional gingerbread as the roadbed remained secure throughout the disaster. Third, I found that wheatless gingerbread is more pliable than traditional gingerbread, which resulted in more warping when transferring the pieces to the baking sheet and during baking. However, the other side of the pliability is that it is easier to trim after baking than traditional gingerbread. If I use this recipe again, I will plan to make adjustments to the dimensions of the pieces post baking. I believe that will resolve the structural issues by creating straight edges that can support each other.

Vermont Covered Bridge Slideshow

Hebron Snow People

Pittsburgh dinosaur hunting is on pause this month. Instead, the public art feature of this month is from Hebron, CT. Hebron is a typical small Connecticut town built up at a crossroads. It was incorporated in 1708 and its current population is just under 10,000. In passing through on a recent trip around New England, my eye was caught by a public art display of snow people on the town green. I originally assumed that this was one of the fiberglass fundraisers like the Pittsburgh DinoMite Days dinosaurs, however these snow people are made of Styrofoam. However, like the fiberglass statues, each one is decorated by a different artist. They seem to be a new annual tradition of the town, having first appeared in the winter of 2020 then hibernating over the summer before returning this winter. Scroll through the slideshow below to see all eight of the snow folks (my favorite is the hula dancer).

Rutland’s Bridge

While wandering around Rutland, Vermont’s third largest city coming in at around 16,000 residents, I found a bridge. Naturally, I walked across it. The bridge connects the worker housing on the flats to the cultural/civic center on the slope beyond which are the wealthier residences. In addition to overcoming the obstacle of the elevation change, the bridge spans the remnants of the formerly extensive rail yard much of which has been converted to a shopping center.

There was also a railroad bridge near the other end of the shopping center. By the time I found this bridge I was hungry, overcome by the humidity, and over a mile from where I was staying. A little farther on were some creeks that probably have bridges over them. I’ll have to look for those the next time I’m in town.

Rutland’s Public Art

Rutland is a small town in Vermont of just over 15,000 residents incorporated in 1892. At one point, it was a major railroad hub for local marble quarries. Its past and present is clearly reflected in its public art.

Instead of the fiberglass sculptures I stumble upon in many cities, in Rutland, I discovered a series of marble sculptures featuring important people from Rutland. The people honored in the sculptures I found are Paul Harris, founder of the first Rotary club; Andrea Mead Lawrence, an Olympic skier; William G. Wilson, co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous; the immigrants who worked in the quarries; and Martin Henry Freeman, an African American educator and abolitionist.

Today, Rutland has a strong environmental and arts focus. In my wanderings, I discovered two sculptures from the Trash2Art series, one from the HeART of Rutland series, and several murals. The mural of whales was particularly eye-catching given that the ocean is hours away. I wondered about the choice of subject until I saw the closest cross street was called Wales Street. The moose just up the street were almost as elusive as real moose – despite multiple trips to Vermont and one to Alaska, I have yet to see a live moose.

Beechview Bridges

Beechview is a neighborhood built on the crest of a hill and spilling down all the sides of the ravines and runs. It claims the steepest paved car “accessible” street in the US, if not the world. Traveling in almost any direction around or through the neighborhood includes an uphill portion. It is a place where anyone driving without chains ought to call in sick or request to work from home after a snow or ice storm to avoid sliding back down the hill when attempting to leave the neighborhood.

Bridges are used to create more level routes, spanning hillsides, runs, and dips. However, none of the two and a half bridges in the neighborhood are for cars. (The half bridge crosses the city boundary into the neighboring borough of Dormont.) The bridges are for the “T”, the local light rail system. Cars are left to manage the ups and downs as best they can. Pedestrians have access to one of the bridges, but otherwise, they are also left to manage the slopes as best they can.

The bridge with pedestrian access was constructed in the era of cages (see post). I am noticing a theme of completely enclosed pedestrian walkways found in association with major transit lines (ex. Beechview’s bridge, Graham Street Bridge, and the former pedestrian bridges over the East Liberty busway) while partially enclosed cages are found in association with roads and rivers (ex. Highland Park Bridge and the pedestrian bridge over Bigelow Blvd).

New Bethlehem Memorial Bridge

The New Bethlehem, PA, Memorial Bridge holds a special place in my heart. After going through the woods for hours on the way to grandmother’s house, New Bethlehem was a landmark that we were getting close. A few more wooded hills and a few more river crossings and we’d be there.

I wonder if in addition to the answer to “are we there yet?” changing from “no” to “almost,” I also enjoyed the intimacy of New Bethlehem after hours on the impersonal and distant freeway. In the previous five hours of diving, we crossed many bridges over many waterways including both the eastern and western branches of the Susquehanna River. But what little I remember of the bridges on Rt 80, they are distant from the water and between the speed and concrete barriers, there is not much to see. At New Bethlehem, the water is right there, almost within reach. Plus there’s a mini waterfall to enjoy.

In my new habit of taking “Sunday drives” (though usually on Saturday), I recently wended my way through the hills to drive across this bridge again for the first time since I was 12 (and first time across as the driver). Of course, I stopped the car to be able to get out and walk across. There is a nice riverfront park on the eastern side, which is either “new” or just not as noticeable when driving.

Kittanning Citizens Bridge

Kittanning is a small town of just under 4,000 residents on the Allegheny River northeast of Pittsburgh. The name is from a Native American village destroyed in 1756 and is thought to mean “the place at the Great River.” It has a single bridge, the Kittanning Citizens Bridge, which was built in 1932 and renovated in 2010. According to historicbridges.org, “In a rare gesture of good faith to taxpayers and preservationists, PennDOT has made the logical decision to rehabilitate this bridge rather than demolish and replace it.” So while this bridge was an unplanned stop on my weekend wanderings and in my blog schedule, it fits nicely with the current theme of demolish & replace or renovate.

The northeastern shore (the Kittanning side) has a nice waterfront park with a boat launch, amphitheater, upper and lower walking paths, fishing and seating areas, and seasonal public restrooms. The southeastern shore (the West Kittanning side) has some houses set back across a road looking out toward the river.

London Bridge (and others) are Falling Down

As if there weren’t already enough crises, London’s bridges were “falling down” in 2020. Three were closed for vital repairs. Hammersmith Bridge remains suspended in limbo while the other two, London Bridge and Vauxhall Bridge, reopened after months of work. Yet, none are totally in the clear. London Bridge’s reopening included significant daytime traffic restrictions. Traffic restrictions may be implemented for Vauxhall Bridge, if money cannot be found for more repairs. Financial straits threaten Hammersmith Bridge as well. It was first closed to vehicular traffic in April 2019 and closed to all traffic, pedestrian and bicycles over and boat traffic under, in August 2020 due to widened cracks feared to portend imminent collapse. The estimate to repair this bridge is £140 million and nearly seven years of work.

London Bridge is falling down,

Falling down, falling down,

London Bridge is falling down,

My fair Lady.

In my experiences walking bridges, it seems common to wait until a bridge is almost falling down to invest in it. It appears politically unappealing to direct funds to maintaining bridges, so we live in a world with a dire refrain of our collapsing infrastructure.

Build it up with bricks and mortar,

Bricks and mortar, bricks and mortar,

Build it up with bricks and mortar,

My fair Lady.

Bricks and mortar will not stay,

Will not stay, will not stay,

Bricks and mortar will not stay,

My fair Lady.

In Pittsburgh, bridges are often left to run the course of their lives without regular maintenance, then are replaced with a new bridge. The resulting demolition ceremonies and ribbon cuttings  make splashy political news stories. The river bridges are an exception. Probably because of their character and contribution to the city’s photogenetic downtown, they are occasionally partially or completely closed for maintenance.

Build it up with iron and steel,

Iron and steel, iron and steel,

Build it up with iron and steel,

My fair Lady.

Iron and steel will bend and bow,

Bend and bow, bend and bow,

Iron and steel will bend and bow,

My fair Lady.

London’s river bridges have more history and, sometimes, more character than Pittsburgh’s bridges. Hammersmith Bridge is one of the city’s unique and historical bridges. The steep price tag to repair this bridge, perhaps the result of mounting deferred maintenance, begs the question of at what point in the decades of non-investment is the threshold crossed beyond which repair is no longer an option.

Build it up with silver and gold,

Silver and gold, silver and gold,

Build it up with silver and gold,

My fair Lady.

Silver and gold will be stolen away,

Stolen away, stolen away,

Silver and gold will be stolen away,

My fair Lady.

The decades of neglect in Pittsburgh and London overlooks bridges’ frequent role as practical infrastructure built to assist in crossing an obstacle. Even temporary closings can cause extreme headaches and delays to those who rely on the bridge. Hammersmith Bridge was left to deteriorate so long, it had to be closed before a plan was in place. As funds and a repair approach are sought, the residents and businesses of Hammersmith continue to be seriously inconvenienced by not being able to cross the river close to home.


Note: Lyrics to “London Bridge is Falling Down” were taken from https://allnurseryrhymes.com/london-bridge-is-falling-down/.

Chicago Waterfront II

After my disappointment in trying to reach the lakefront at Grant Park, I had given up on reaching the shore on that trip. The weather had been perfect (being August instead of April), but it seemed I was fated to not wade in the lake.

However, after exploring the former site of the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair in Jackson Park, I was making my way to a bus stop to return to my hotel and found myself on a path to the 63rd Street Beach. Lake Shore Drive still continued along the lake’s shore, but it was not an obstacle here as it bridged over the pedestrian trail.

While mounting frustration had turned me back from the lake in Grant Park, the ease of following Jackson Park’s meandering trail turned me away from my original goal to add a stop at the lake beach. The beach house suggested days of better maintenance and greater usage, but the beach and adjoining greenspace appeared to be a pleasant amenity for local traffic.* While tourists may have found their way there in 1893, I seemed to be the only one when I visited.

*My tendency to take photos of things rather than people presented a missed opportunity when picking photos for this post. There were several small groups of people on the beach and more carloads of people enjoying picnics on the other side of the beach house. Yet, none of the photos I took that day included any of these people.

Chicago Waterfront I

While exploring the Grant Park viaducts on my 2019 trip to Chicago, I discovered that they were connected to promenades leading to the lake. I decided to wend my way through Grant Park by strolling down one promenade to the lake and another back to Michigan Avenue and so on, weaving back and forth. It turns out that this is no longer an option.

On the 1920s map that inspired me to visit the viaducts, the only divider in Grant Park was the railroad tracks bridged by the viaducts. The rest of the park showed on the map as a vast open space where I assumed the promenades were designed for wealthy residents and visitors to take the air and see who else was in town (or perhaps that is just the influence of reading Jane Austen so much). While it didn’t matter to me who else was in town, strolling along the promenades seemed a nice way to take the air.

Whatever the original intent, today the promenades are chopped up by their modern antithesis – the multi-lane, high speed road. While there are several promenades spaced throughout the park, I only found one that had a protected pedestrian crossing over the many lanes of Columbus Drive. Clearly, this was the grand promenade. In addition to being the only one with a safe passage, past Columbus it featured an opulent water fountain.

Having already crossed a significant barrier, I assumed it would be a clear walk to the waterfront after that point. However, on the other side of the fountain, I found the even more formidable barrier of Lake Shore Drive, aka Route 41. All interest in continuing with my promenade evaporated even though the lights and crosswalks suggested the ability to cross safely. Instead, I spent some time admiring the fountain before returning to my hotel.

I was disappointed at discovering that the connection between the park and the lake was an optical illusion. Yet, it came as no surprise to find the lake front prioritized for cars. It is a recurring experience to find an urban waterfront cut off from the rest of the city by a major roadway barrier, or in this case two.