Horseauger's Bridge

I was told that the old bridge we all knew as Horseauger's Bridge is no longer spanning the River. I guess it finally needed to be replaced. Rumor has it that the bridge is now in a nearby field.
Visiting that spot will not be the same. I remember making the turn as we head toward home and stopping in the middle of the bridge. Dad would get out and walk to the edge of the bridge and lean through the framework of the bridge to gaze into the water. He had to look for fish. Sometimes he would take but a few seconds, but lots of times he would take several minutes. When he was satisfied with looking at the spot where big fish were likely to be, he would walk to the other side of the bridge and look for sucker minnows. If he spotted a big school of minnows the right size, he would have to come back and seine for them. He used the minnows for bait. Eventually we would move on toward home.
In my youngest years, the bridge had planks that ran crosswise to the traffic. These planks were held in place on the ends of the planks, but the center of the planks were not fastened. This caused the boards to make a load noise as the weight of the tires moved along over the planks. It is a sound I can hear in my head as I write about it. I cannot explain it. Well, when I was about fifteen they added a few rows of planks on top of the old ones. These planks ran the same direction as traffic. It was probably necessary, but it ruined the nostalgia of the spot.
Kayak Bandit

Bridge Racing

The bridges of our farming community were almost all made the same way. They were not very long because our streams and rivers were not very wide. They could almost always be spanned from bank to bank. At the edge of each bank was a concrete wall called an abutment. The bride sat on top of these two abutments.
The bridge itself was made of many pieces of steel all riveted together in a crisscross arrangement. The sides of the bridges were rather high above the height of the roadway. Starting at the abutments, the sides went up at a steep angle. Once they got to the right height, they were level until they met the equal angle coming from the other abutment.
The really cool thing about this style of bridge was the flat surface on the top of the angle section and the level section. Both sides of the bridge were exactly the same. I found that this exactness of sides was perfect for competition. One boy could not complain that his side was longer or higher or more rough. I do not remember ever disputing the exactness of the race course.
Now parents had a problem with this form of competition. We solved the problem by never mentioning that we raced from one side of the river to the other by running across the bridge railing. I marvel at how simple it is to solve major problems.
I suspect, in retrospect, that the only way we would likely have gotten caught was if one of us died when we fell to our death. The one that died would be immune from punishment, and the survivor would not admit to racing. Simple. Yep, Stevie was just climbing up there. We all told him to stay off. With the problems associated with funerals, I doubt any of us would have gotten punished. I am not saying I would do it again. Actually, if asked to bridge race, I would say forcefully - - "Heck No!!!"
It is amazing the things we survived. This is not the worst thing we thought up to do. I hope my mom does not read this. She might still give me a good switchin'. Even at age eighty four. Did I mention that I was her favorite?
Kayak Bandit