When in Bridgetown...

There are several local bloggers who do a more than fine job depicting our local bridges in words and pictures, so I haven't made it a real focus here yet. I don't know if this will change in the future(I do, after all, have a book named Walking Bridges Using Poetry as a Compass waiting for me to pick it up off the shelf), but I do know I've been wanting to do a post on the Interstate Bridge for a while now. These shots are from the Vancouver side where I took a lovely walk today, but I think that I'll break my self-imposed rule about only posting pictures taken in Portland in much the same way I did for Mt. St. Helens a few entries back.



Part of the desire to write about the Interstate Bridge stems from coming across this image several weeks ago. Considering the cars and that the original bridge (the northbound span today) was built in 1917, it would appear the bridge is less than ten years old in this image. Or, well, it could be an entirely idealized image of the same era--I'm struck by the gleaming whiteness of the sidewalks and railings, as well as the standard multi-hued sunset. It all seems so... hopeful.

The other source of the desire to take a few photos and make a note here was a recent conversation I had with my mother, who lives in Kentucky. I couldn't tell you why it came up, but I was telling her about the bridge and the plans to replace it in the near future. I'm sure it's a matter of personal tastes, but I much prefer the soaring spires of the current bridge to the postmodern lines of the artists' renditions in that link. I realized in telling my mother about the bridge that I will really miss it once it's is gone-- I'll miss the towers rising up out of the fog on some mornings, marking the waypoint on my commute. I'll miss the standard issue green paint, the crazy counterweights which made me just a bit nervous the day that I realized that they're not much more than stacked cinderblocks; I'll miss the starlings that have given people so much trouble over the years, and I'll miss the Nessie-ish undulations of the bridge's arches as she reaches across the river.