Bridges

I hate bridges; a rather strange statement coming from someone who loves the water. But bridges - it's a whole other story!  When crossing a bridge by car or by foot, my heart starts racing, my palms get sweaty, and I can feel the nervous tension rising in me.  I really really hate bridges.  Four years ago, while visiting LaJolla and San Diego with a friend, I convinced her that we would do best to cross the bay to Coronado by ferry rather than taking the extension bridge. "Enjoy the experience!"  Unfortunately, my gracious friend hates boats about as much as I hate bridges, but alas, she acquiesced to my request.  Much to my dismay, during our ride across the bay, I was the one who became a bit sea sick, having to take large gulps of air in order to keep from ... um ... revealing just how sick I was becoming.  Luckily we made it to the other side with no incidents.  Of course we had to return - by ferry, but we didn't have the same issues.  I promised that next time we'd take the car across the bridge.

I though that maybe by driving in the middle lane, if available, I'd be ok!!  I tried that once when crossing the Bay Bridge in Maryland. Going across the bridge to the east side of the state was fine.  Returning was a disaster! The middle lane was close due to bridge/road repairs, so my choice was either the left or right lane.  Either way I had to get across again.  Sadly, I realized too late that there was no middle lane- I was in the left lane, and there was no getting over.  The traffic was atrocious, and I was stuck.
 

Doesn't this look 764 feet above the water?



If you've never driven on the Bay Bridge, let me tell you - IT'S TERRIFYING!!!  OK, maybe just this particular evening; all I remember was that I could see down to the dark choppy Chesapeake waters below - the waves were crashing their way to the shoreline.  The bridge looked like it was 764 feet above the water - a drop into that frigid black water would surely be my demise!  "Don't look down, DON'T LOOK DOWN!!!" I'd say to myself. I tried my darnedest to just stare ahead at the red break lights ahead of me - break lights that went on for miles and miles - and not look below.  It was stop and go the whole FIVE hours on that bridge. (ok, more like 15 minutes - but may as well have been five hours!!)  Ironically there were signs along both sides of the bridge that read NO STOPPING ON THE BRIDGE.  I started screaming at the other cars and drivers: "READ THE SIGNS!! READ THE SIGNS - NO STOPPING ON THE BRIDGE!!!!"  I really don't thing they could hear me - I don't know why.... I swear, my left arm was going numb (probably due to my extremely tight grip on the steering wheel), my heart was racing, ready to beat out of my chest, I could feel it in my throat and hear it in my ears ... beads of sweat started forming on my forehead.  I just had to make it to the other side.  When I did, I almost jumped out of my car to kiss the solid ground. 



Extension Bridge in Fremont, Ohio

So why would someone who loves water soo much hate bridges equally as much?  I can attribute it to the bridge we used to cross to get to my Aunt and Uncle's house in Greensprings, Ohio.  My Aunt Tillie, and Uncle Cliff lived in a really great farm house outside of Greensprings, and I remember as a child spending many holidays, evenings, and weekends at their place with lots of family members - lots and lots of family members!!!  I loved going there - I just hated crossing that bridge to get there.  See, it wasn't your ordinary mortar and concrete bridge with asphalt roads; no, it was a bridge made of many steel extensions that to a child looked like a bunch of pipes, and it had a steel grate road that made the tires on the car hum as it crossed.  You could - if you chose - look out the windows down to the creek bed below.  Me?  I'd close my eyes so that just in case the grates gave way to the weight of the car, I wouldn't see the car careen to the creek bed below.



Often in life in order to get from point A to point B we're required to take paths we don't want to take.  Sometimes the route includes a bridge or two that we don't want to cross; some bridges include hurt and pain, often times it's self-induced pain.  But do we try to learn a lesson from it in order to reach Point B, or do we scream at the traffic in front getting absolutely nothing accomplished from it?  Funny thing is when we reach the other side we often think, "wow, that wasn't so bad." 



Coronado Bridge - GLORIOUS



It's been several years since I've returned to Ohio and traveled across that old extension bridge in Fremont.  When I did return I still closed my eyes when we were crossing.  Still didn't like the sound of the tires on the grates.  However, when I returned to Coronado to visit this past year, I rented a car - and I drove across the Coronado Bridge, and I kept my eyes open and looked out over the horizon to the waters beyond, and to Point Loma, and thought "Wow, what a sight!" Look at what you've been missing!!!"