Railroad bridges, Hooksett, NH

Baltimore truss railroad bridge

I wasn't going to write this picture up. There's nothing particularly historical about this bridge. I didn't even know this bridge existed.

I'm on vacation, and I'd made a promise to visit my parents graves in Concord, New Hampshire, at some point during my week off. My dad would never, ever pay a toll if he could avoid it, and particularly on I-93 between Manchester and Concord. He'd always take the back road, Route 3A, through Hooksett and Bow and into Concord, where we lived.

That's how we kids were brought up. So I was toodling along on 3A, which follows the Merrimack River, just casually looking over now and again because it's a beautiful river and it was my river growing up. Through the trees, I saw an old iron railroad bridge and figured I'd better stop by.

I didn't recognize the truss design; I looked it up when I got home and saw it was a "Baltimore truss". The railroad bridges here in Connecticut all seem to be Pratt truss, so that was new.

This closed-off railroad bridge crosses the Merrimack nearly parallel to the Baltimore truss bridge. This one appears to be a three span Pratt truss bridge with extra bracing. Or it could be a Warren truss. I don't know. The cool thing is that these bridges, right next to each other, were made using entirely different designs.

Lots of people seem to have photographed these bridges (add me to that list) and/or jumped from them, but I'm not able to find any information about them online.

Just... back roads New Hampshire, I guess.

Hop River Trail Bridge, Andover, CT

Hop River Trail Bridge

You'll have to forgive me for the number of relatively local bridges I'll be posting about for awhile; it's summer, and I've been building up strength from daily bicycle commuting so that I can get to some of the bridges along the Connecticut greenways. Such as today's bridge, the Hop River Trail Bridge in Andover.


The Hop River Trail is a "rails to trails" project that runs along the right of way of the old Providence, Hartford and Fishkill Railroad. These rails-to-trails paths are fantastic for a walk, jog, or bike ride. The Hop River Trail begins in Manchester and runs all the way to Willimantic. The first time I tried to follow the trail all the way, I got stopped right here in this spot, in Andover, because this bridge was not there and all I could do was carry my bike down the hill and look for the trail to begin on the other side. I never did reconnect with it. Even today, there is no clear path up the other side. The people from the east end of the trail must have been equally stymied by what I understand was called the "Andover Gap".

Portal to the bridge (and my bike!)

This Howe truss bridge was built, years ago, in a factory by Echo Bridge in Elmira, NY. There it sat while Andover moved its slow way toward getting the old railroad bridge abutments reinforced and the bridge upgraded to meet changing safety standards. It was finally trucked here and lifted into place back in April of this year. I added it to my mental list of bike-accessible bridges and forgot entirely about it. Which is what happens to mental lists.


Reminded by Dale Travis' covered bridge lists, I plotted out the 31 mile round trip and had a wonderful time this morning. This really is a great trail, and a covered bridge along the way is just dessert. (I didn't go all the way to Willimantic today because it's supposed to get into the 90s... and a 50 mile round trip was pushing it, I felt.)

Detail of the Howe truss

Trail parking is available at several points near the bridge; if you're arriving by car, there is parking just past the east end of the bridge. The trail head is in Manchester, but there is a huge parking lot where the Vernon/Rockville spur meets up with the Hop River Trail. I've never actually been to the far end of the trail and have no idea what the conditions are like there.

The Bridges of Portsmouth, NH

General Sullivan Bridge

I moved to New Hampshire's seacoast area when I started at the University of New Hampshire, and left five years later when I moved to California to start my career of always being at the hot technology companies just after they were no longer hot. These were the first five years of my adult life; I went to school, I fell in love, I got married, worked at a radio station and three startup tech companies (EZ Data, Enterprise Systems, and a third, the owner of which would prefer I don't talk about my time there on the Internet, as I found out the last time I did so).

Anyway, EZ Data was based out of Newington, and A... the unnamed company was based out of Portsmouth, and we lived in Dover, so every single day we would cross this beautiful old bridge, the Sullivan Bridge, our first bridge of the three in this post. Below the bridge was Hilton Park, where we could bring our lunches and watch the boats sailing on Little Bay.

After we left for California, they closed the bridge, which was used for southbound traffic when we lived there, and it is now used only for pedestrian traffic. The state is now deciding whether to renovate it for traffic, just tear it down, or replace all the bridges with a super-wide bridge. These bridges are the bottleneck for traffic from the Portsmouth area to the 'burbs to the north.

I'm hoping for restoration for traffic, of course. Though it would be hideously expensive, it is the second most historic bridge in the area.

Well, that was before Portsmouth decommissioned the first most historic bridge, the Memorial Bridge.

Sarah Mildred Long Bridge

The Sarah Mildred Long Bridge is more commonly known as "the middle bridge". It connects the city of Portsmouth with Kittery, Maine, home of a naval base and the Kittery Trading Post. It is one of two drawbridges across the Piscataqua River, and with the decommissioning of the Memorial Bridge, the only one that remains.

The bascule (the moving bit) lifts every fifteen minutes during the day to allow traffic through, but this bridge has a secret. Automobile and truck traffic runs along the top, but there is a train track that runs along the bottom. If a boat comes by that could get by if the train track section just weren't there, the bridge master can slide the bottom part to the side.

The Memorial Bridge looks similar to the Long Bridge, but with curvier trusses on either side of the bascule. I'd have pictures of it, but A) they re-arranged the Portsmouth traffic so much that I couldn't find it, and B) I thought this WAS the Memorial Bridge. Which shows how memory fades after a quarter century away. Anyway, C) they decommissioned it.

I'll get it next time, what's left of it.

Piscataqua River Bridge

The Piscataqua River Bridge rises dramatically high above the Portsmouth skyline. Like the Memorial Bridge and the Long Bridge, the Piscataqua River Bridge crosses the (wait for it) Piscataqua River and connects the city with Kittery, Maine, bringing a northern cap to New Hampshire's colorful and historic eleven miles of coast.

Out of all the cities I have lived or worked in, Portsmouth was the most beautiful. Watching a live performance of "Grease" on the lawn on Strawberry Bank, staggering drunkenly through snow shrouded city streets singing sea shanties after a memorable meal at The Library, geeking out with plastic baggy video games at the Atari Computer Club, lining up outside the Jerry Lewis Cinema to see The Empire Strikes Back... it's a painfully breathtaking example of a New England seacoast town.

Talcottville Iron Bridge, Talcottville, CT... again

Talcottville Main Street Bridge

I wasn't all that happy with my recent post about the Talcottville Main Street Bridge. First, I'd cleverly timed my photos just before leaves started opening, making a rather barren picture. Secondly, because I didn't even go on the bridge. I was already on the mill grounds and just shot it from there.

If I'd gone on the bridge and past it, I'd have come to the Talcott Ravine trails that connect to Vernon's branch of the Rails-to-Trails project. And I'd have seen the pond and gotten a much better view of the bridge -- with the water tower from the mill standing behind it, and the dam just past the bridge allowing the foliage on the banks of the Tankerhoosen River to show.

I'd have had the picture above.

The old bridge railing

This iron railing must once have been on the inside of the bridge, where steel guardrails now keep cars from slipping off the edge of the bridge. It was likely fastened on the outside to cover up the steel reinforcements that keep the bridge together. This bridge could really use a complete renovation. I'm not sure Talcottville is enough of a tourist draw to get Vernon to spend the million bucks or so to rebuild the bridge (I have no idea how much it would cost). Maybe if they find someone to buy the mill and do something fun with it, the bridge would get some love. Not while the mill slides forgotten into ruin, though.

First house built in Talcottville (1802)

So, if you want to see an incredibly historic bridge fixed up, come visit historic Talcottville. You can see the whole place in half an hour -- an hour and a half if you want to go down the ravine trails. There were some guys fishing in the pond, too, so bring your fishing stuff!

It's all about the Tankerhoosen, you know.

Talcottville Iron Bridge, Talcottville, CT

Talcottville Iron Bridge

This one's a local bridge -- it's right down the road, yet I'd never heard of it until today, when I ran across it while photographing the Talcottville Mill. It crosses the Tankerhoosen River just above a dam on Talcottville's Main Street. It's a pony truss bridge made, presumably, of iron.

The historic bridge site says this bridge was built by the famous Berlin Iron Bridge Company, and is the only pony truss bridge where the truss members actually bear the weight of cars crossing the bridge. A pony truss bridge, by the way, is one with no trusses connecting the sides along the top.

I was in my car, since I was coming back from a photography trip up in Shenipsit State Park, but this is a bridge that needs my bicycle on it.

Talcottville Mill

This mill was the center of Talcottville for decades. The Talcott brothers had bought the mill and the surrounding lands from Nathaniel Kellogg, who had named the area Kelloggville. No shortage of ego on either side, there. The Talcott brothers built twin homes across the street on hills, overlooking the mill. The mill remained active in some form through the 20th century, though it is all entirely abandoned now.

Just about time to recondition it into luxury apartments...

You can (and should!) read more about Talcottville's historic legacy, as the story it tells is repeated, with minor variations, throughout the northeast. Talcottville today is a historic district within Vernon, CT, and signs along the few roads point out and explain the historic significance of the mill and other relics of an elder age.

Town Bridge, Canton, CT

Town Bridge

This bridge was totally off my radar -- not surprising, since it's more than a little off the beaten path. I found word of it entirely by accident while reading another bridge blog (yes, there's more than just this one). The author of that blog was stunned by the historical importance of the bridge. It's a truss bridge constructed by the famous Berlin Iron Bridge Company which made dozens of bridges in the 19th century around Connecticut and elsewhere in the Northeast. He also got a much nicer picture of the bridge than I did.

Not making excuses. It snowed recently, and I thought it would make a nice picture. I took my chances on a rainy day. What the heck, it was a nice drive through foggy mountain passes.

The real star here is the Farmington River. The river is a recreation center in Hartford County; a long system of well-maintained trails and paved paths follows the river through some of the most beautiful scenery in New England. Not far from the Town Bridge is a huge parking lot that forms the springboard for boating, bicycling, hiking and fishing. The parking lot on even a rainy late winter day was far from empty.

We Yankees love the outdoors. When you live someplace like Connecticut, who can blame us?

Great River Bridge, Westfield, MA

Great River Bridge(s)

When the giant camelback truss bridge that crossed the Westfield River started getting creaky, Westfield could have just junked it and replaced it with a standard girder and concrete bridge and life would have gone on. Instead, the city doubled down, built a duplicate bridge just a bit down river, closed the old bridge and started bringing it back to code (the old bridge is foremost in the picture above; the new bridge is behind it).

The old Great River Bridge was even more worse off than was thought, requiring more years and more millions of dollars to finish the job. Westfield could have just stuck with the new bridge at that point but they decided once more to go all in, dug up part of Union Ave and turned the land between the bridges into a beautiful park. At one end, they raised a clock tower (with a REALLY LOUD chime). At the other end, they raised the existing railroad tracks to keep them usable and high enough for trucks to clear.

Park between the bridges, current railroad bridge crossing left to right in the background

Westfield's nickname is "Whip City". It used to be famous for its buggy whips. Hate to be a buggy whip maker when everyone's driving cars goes the saying, and Westfield is now just a suburb to Springfield. In colonial times, Westfield was the western-most settlement in Massachusetts. Now it's home to Pilgrim Candles, and candle shops line Elm Street.

Upriver of the Great River Bridges is an old, abandoned truss railroad bridge. There's nothing stopping anyone from walking right up to it; there's a concrete path leading right past it, actually. While I was taking pictures, a teenager skated up, picked up his skateboard and crossed the river on the bridge.

I figured this was something I'd have to try. We had a railroad bridge back in Linwood that crossed some river connecting Whitin and Linwood Ponds, and it was a rite of passage to cross it. Mind this was an active railroad (and still is, I think). Some of the boys would swing under the bridge and hide in the trusses, but it was enough for me to just cross it without falling into the river or being hit by a train. There was no reason I couldn't just skip over this one.

I couldn't do it. The ties were rounded from wear and the gaps between them wider than I expected. I could walk on those four inch beams, of course. I have been training for that my entire life. My dad and I used to walk along the tracks, and he'd walk on the rails and I'd try to do that, too. I still sometimes walk on the curbs and stuff, narrower than these beams.

I started crossing the bridge, got about halfway through the first span and with the water below me and the lack of anything to fall against (except air) on the sides... I lost my nerve and came back. I felt so ashamed of myself. Ashamed, but without any new broken bones.

You know you're getting old when...

East Haddam Swing Bridge, East Haddam-Haddam, CT

East Haddam Swing Bridge

The cruise on the Connecticut this morning was all I'd hoped it would be. The weather was cold, but clear; the river was quiet, and the eagles were out. We saw many bald eagles perched in trees, a flock of eagles wheeling around in the sky, owls, swans, cormorants, ducks, gulls, crows, ravens... I even saw a turkey vulture on the way home.

The East Haddam Bridge was built between 1911 and 1913. The west half of the bridge is an anchored truss bridge. The east, swing half of the bridge is a steel deck reverse truss bridge that puts all its weight on the pivot instead of the edges.

This unique swing method put so much stress on the pivot that it had to be shored up with further construction to keep the bridge safe. The builders did so without destroying the essential character of the bridge.

There's plenty of parking on both sides of the bridge. On the East Haddam side is the Goodspeed Opera House, the Goodspeed Airport behind it, the town offices and a fancy restaurant. The river boats leave from Eagle Landing on the Haddam side of the bridge; even in the depth of winter, the cruises are popular. There were crowds waiting for their boats all the time I was there, and ours debarked again, full of new passengers, minutes after we ourselves landed.

I regret that I didn't have a longer lens to take better pictures of the birds. I've put a link to the album with the birds in it below.

The East Haddam Swing Bridge is the southernmost freshwater bridge over the Connecticut. By the time the river gets to the mouth crossing at Old Saybrook, Long Island Sound's effluence has turned the river salty. Conversely, the Connecticut is largely responsible for keeping Long Island Sound from being as salty as the Atlantic.

While it's legal to walk over the bridge, there's no sidewalk or marked lane. You'll be dodging cars. A bicyclist crossed at speed, though. He was pretty brave -- I wouldn't trust my tires on the steel mesh deck of the swing portion.

Eagle Watching

Willimansett Bridge, Holyoke-Chicopee, MA

So excited! It looks like tomorrow's Connecticut River Cruise is a go! It's going to be in the morning, but not early enough to get some dramatic sunrise on the river pictures. Those will wait until it's warmer.

Anyway. Today's bridge is the Willimansett Bridge in Holyoke, Massachusetts, just north of Springfield, where I was going for more shots of the Memorial Bridge. Springfield's Memorial Bridge, like Hartford's Bulkeley Bridge, will get a post when my photography gets good enough to do it justice. Practice!

The Willimansett Bridge is a four span truss bridge over the Connecticut River. Built in 1891, this old bridge is currently closed to traffic while it undergoes an expensive renovation. Over 15,000 cars are said to have crossed this daily when it was open, which is frankly astonishing. Now drivers have to go a couple miles downriver to take Route 391 across.

The Route 391 bridge is boring, but it is definitely the best vantage from which to see the Willimansett Bridge -- but only at highway speeds from your car, as there is no pedestrian access on that bridge. There is, however, pedestrian access on the Willimansett.

It looks as if you could probably climb down the north bank on the Chicopee side of the bridge and get a better view, but by this time I was already quite a long way from my car and getting nervous about it, as I'd accidentally left my phone on the front seat.

Holyoke has a canal running alongside the Connecticut which is crossed by several other bridges. The Water Street bridge, above, crosses one outlet of the canal as it heads to a dam and into the river. You can see a bridge crossing the dam itself in the background.

This short, three span arch bridge takes Cabot Street over the canal and up to the Willimansett Bridge. With the canal crossed by all these low bridges, I'm not sure what the function of the canal IS. Maybe irrigation?

The Willimansett Bridge in the background, covered by tarp while workers work inside it. Pedestrian access is to the left.

On the Willimansett. I still had my camera with the bad lens at this point, and my phone with its excellent camera was (as mentioned above) back in the car, so I couldn't take pictures that looked toward the west (or the bridge), where the sun was shining, without having the image ruined by huge flaws. Gotta get that fixed, because the G12 is a really good camera and it cost me a lot of money. Even broken, it takes these fantastic pictures with incredible color.

Truss bridges aren't particularly rare around here, but every one is unique, all of them beautiful, and most of them were the lifeblood of their communities. I can only imagine how proud the people who lived in Holyoke were of their bridge when it was built 121 years ago.

Willimansett Bridge ca 1893

West Cornwall Covered Bridge, West Cornwall-Sharon, CT

The third and last covered bridge in Connecticut, the West Cornwall Covered Bridge, crossing the Housatonic about 20 miles north of Bulls Bridge, a covered bridge in Kent. If you're already headed to the Berkshires to see one of them, you might as well see the other. And as long as you're coming to see _those_, you might as well stop by the Cornwall Bridge, a huge arch bridge in the town named Cornwall Bridge. That's a different post, though.

Of the three covered bridges in Connecticut, this is the largest, though still not wide enough to let two cars pass inside. Wikipedia says the bridge was originally built in 1864. Covered bridges weren't terribly rare back then; if you're going to be building a wooden lattice bridge anyway, not much reason not to wall it in and put a peaked roof on it to protect the deck from the weather. According to the Connecticut Historic Bridge site, the state department of transportation concealed steel beams in the flooring (same as they did with the Comstock covered bridge) to keep it safe for traffic. During last year's tropical storm, the Housatonic became violent and deadly -- but the bridge weathered it without damage.

For all the businesses in West Cornwall with "Covered Bridge" in their names, you'd think there'd be better parking for tourists -- the other two covered bridges have loads. If you want to get out of the car and walk around, you'll have to park in some business' parking spot, or along the cul de sac that runs for a short way along the river.

Once you are parked, there's plenty of places from which to take great pictures. Just watch the traffic; this bridge does see heavy use.

The Appalachian Trail does not run through this bridge, but it's not far away. I'll talk more about that in my next post, when I write about Cornwall Bridge.

Not to be confused with West Cornwall Covered Bridge.

This was the last major bridge shoot I did with my point-and-shoot Canon G12. There's a small scrape on the lens that ruins every picture taken with it; I had to be really careful to keep the scrape outside of any picture detail. If you look for it, you can see it in both these shots. I really need to get that fixed. I understand there are kits that can maybe do it. It's a really handy camera with very powerful built-in software.

Since then, I've been using an older, but yet-unscratched, Canon EOS Rebel T1 camera. It's a digital single lens reflex (DSLR) camera that does hardly anything for you. That's also its strength. Since it doesn't know all the rules about taking pictures like the G12 does, I can break them if I need to. Plus it can shrink the aperture down to a pinhole, allowing some pretty cool effects in the right hands (not mine).

Derby-Shelton Bridge, Derby, CT

Derby-Shelton Bridge behind railroad bridge

Just a few miles south of the Stevenson Dam Bridge, the Derby-Shelton Bridge connects the cities of Shelton and Derby ("Connecticut's Smallest City", brags the Welcome to Derby sign). The Housatonic here is wide and slow and soon meet its end in Stratford, emptying into Long Island Sound. A dam just north of Derby creates Lake Housatonic.

Derby-Shelton Bridge panorama

The bridge is a four span arch bridge made of concrete. The stronger concrete allows the arches to be thinner, compared to the somewhat sturdier construction required for stone arch bridges, like the Bulkeley in Hartford.

Derby is full of rewards for the dedicated bridge hunter. Apart from the Derby-Shelton Bridge itself, there's the three span steel truss railroad bridge, and turning 180 degrees from the above photographs, the deck truss Commodore Isaac Hull Bridge dramatically crosses the Housatonic as well.

Commodore Isaac Hull Bridge

The Naugatuck River flows into the Housatonic just south of here. The entire area is a haven for river recreation.

I'm really impatient for spring so I can see these places full of life....

From the archives: Ashland Mill Bridge, Jewett City, CT

I had a flat tire on the bike and an early meeting, so I wasn't able to get the bridge I wanted to photograph today. Tomorrow's going to be kinda cruddy, weather-wise, as well. So tonight, one from the archives: a footbridge across a canal in Jewett City.

By itself, it isn't that amazing or historic; it's not that different from ornamental footbridges in any town in the country. Just downstream from this bridge, though, recently stretched the famous Ashland Mill Bridge. Though dripping with history, it had become dangerous and closed to all traffic. A park had grown up around it. There was a new bridge. The old one was demolished.

Jewett City has that kind of small town beauty that you often hear about but rarely find -- and never close to cities. Driving through the town sent me right back to my childhood in Linwood, Massachusetts, a village even _smaller_ than Jewett City. Not that there's any sort of contest going on.

Near where I grew up

Anyway. Ashland Mill Bridge. According to the Public Archaeology site, the Ashland Mill Bridge was one of two bridges in the area constructed by the Berlin Iron Bridge company and of which was said:

The two bridges made by you, of iron, are in place. . . . I am very much pleased with them, and am satisfied that they are constructed on the right principle and are destined to be the bridge of the future.


So there you have it. The bridge of the future almost, but not quite, made it to the present.