Bridge-A-Palooza

You’ll recall that yesterday I filmed myself crossing the US’s longest covered bridge, and then ended the day in Geneva OH where I encountered the country’s shortest covered bridge. Loyal reader Detlef K. asked why I didn’t include footage of crossing the Geneva span. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. So first thing this morning I returned to the Geneva bridge to correct my oversight. Here is the fruit of my labor:

Today actually turned out to be a bridge-filled day. Take, for example, this bridge that carries US Route 20 traffic over the Vermillion River in Wakeman, OH. It was built in 1933, and I’m told it’s an “open-spandrel, concrete-arch” design.

I’m no engineer, but I can appreciate how graceful that arch design is. And the fact it’s been there for almost a century is certainly impressive.

I took the picture from atop a pedestrian/bike bridge, and got to wondering what that bridge looks like from the side. So I moved over to the Wakeman (US 20) bridge and took this picture of the pedestrian bridge:

Is that impressive, or what?? It turns out the pedestrian/bike path was placed atop an 1872 railroad bridge. Trains haven’t come through here in decades, so about a decade ago the “rails to trails” people retrofitted it.

But then there’s Cleveland (pop: 363,000). US 20 cuts through the town on surface streets, and the experience of driving it is infinitely different from the peaceful cruise through innumerable small towns that I’d experienced the past few days. This morning’s drive through Cleveland was crowded, people were honking, blight was evident on both sides of the road. I did make a small detour to find the house that was used for the exterior shots of A Christmas Story (1983). But I got lost and found myself in a jungle of massive, looming bridges that cross the river at all angles. And that’s when the magic happened: I saw what makes Cleveland unique. I saw 200 years of history. Would it be going to far to say I saw its heart?

I took most of the following photos from a trail that was once the “towpath” along the Ohio and Erie Canal. Mules labored along these paths pulling boats and barges up the canal via ropes. The modern trail/historic towpath runs alongside the canal for about 100 miles. I walked less than a mile of this path, passing under and next to innumerable bridges–some still in service, and some decommissioned.

Want to see one of these types of bridges in operation? Here I am waiting in traffic for an automobile bridge to return to earth:

Evidently Cleveland has over 300 bridges, many of which cross the Cuyahoga River. I’m not going to make you view them all. But you’ve got to admire the engineering and the grit that went into building these over the past two centuries. And you also have to admire how modern Clevelanders somehow navigate daily through this confusing labyrinth.

We now move on to the non-bridge-related part of the day:

Here’s a different kind of engineering project, carried out by a high-school dropout who taught himself welding, electronics, power delivery, and a ton of other stuff:

This is all on a lot on a residential street. Let’s look a little closer:

It’s all the work of local artist Tim Willis. And those robots and dragons actually move with electric servos, and the trucks have powerful engines that presumably could get them into a monster truck show. My readers will recall that I have a soft spot for yard art; this is incredible. Spend a minute or two hearing from Tim himself:

Next up was the town of Kipton, OH. A new reader named Bob suggested I check out the site of the “Great Kipton Train Wreck of 1891.” There’s a marker at the site explaining how a head-on railroad collision occurred because the watch of one of the conductors was four minutes slow. Leaving aside the issue of whether it’s wise to create railroad schedules that have two trains occupying the same space just minutes apart, this accident prompted the railroads to adopt strict standards for railway timepieces.

Finally, can anyone identify the building below? (You already had a hint.)

Beer of the Day

I nabbed my BOTD at the Inside the Five Brewing Company, just west of Toledo, Ohio. It’s owned by two retired NFL players: Chris Morris (Oakland Raiders) and Brandon Fields (Miami Dolphins). They both retired in the Toledo area, and started this brew pub in 2018. I’m told “Inside the Five” is reference to the last 5 yards of the gridiron. But it’s all Greek to me.

Anyway, the place is evidently very popular–it was packed when I got there on a Monday evening. They have a big space, with comfortable outdoor seating on a deck that overlooks the street. They also have friendly servers, and the weather was perfect. What better place to get the BOTD?

I had a pint of their Deimos, which is an American Porter. As we all know (after consulting Wikipedia), in Greek mythology Deimos was the son of Ares (god of war) and Aphrodite (goddess of love). Somehow he turned out to be the god of dread and terror. Should I be worried for ordering this beer?

Deimos is made by brewing a traditional Porter and adding local coffee and vanilla. Both of these tastes are prominent in the beer, though the vanilla is more prominent on the nose than on the palate. The mouthfeel is incredibly smooth. It’s very lightly carbonated, and has no foam to speak of. The ABV is 6.5 percent. The color is quite light for a porter–it’s the color of honey, or maybe the color of coffee when you use the Kuerig pod a second time.

Speaking of coffee: The coffee flavor is not particular roasty; instead it reminds me of Coffee Nips (TM) candy. There’s also a sweetness to this beer that is just this side of cloying. The beer seems to have no bitterness at all, with just the slightest evidence of hops on the finish. I’d say this is more of a dessert beer, that wears out its welcome as you move through a full pint of it. I’d give the first half 4.5 stars, and the second half 3 stars. I guess that means the overall score is 3.75.