When I was a kid in the early 1970s we went to visit my grandparents a few times a year. We had to cross a lake–the terrifyingly wide Lake Ray Hubbard near Dallas, Texas. I was always afraid that we would run off the bridge, crash into the lake and drown. This was before seat belt laws were all the rage and I would sometimes huddle in the floor of the car until we were safely across. Bridges and I were not good friends.
I had to get over that when I was 18 and moved to Merritt Island, Florida. It is not a true island but still required the crossing of the Banana River on a high humpbacked bridge. Now I live near the Missouri and Mississippi rivers. I might as well like them.
Today when we travel I love to take pictures of beautiful bridges. I’m still no fan of plain old concrete. Girders are my thing. This week we made a quick trip to Kentucky. These are my souvenirs.