Dear Friends,
Today was a bridge bonanza. This morning Zing and I were walking across the gold bridge, when a siren shrieked, terrifying us -- we realized it was a warning that the center of the bridge (where we were) would soon rise. Zing did not need persuasion. We both raced to the city side and the gates clanged down behind us. The center of the bridge creaked skyward, not at an angle, like a drawbridge, but straight up -- who knows how many feet -- to make room for big boats. None passed through; it was a routine test, but thrilling anyway.
Then the street descended and the bridge was whole again. We crossed over, normally, and strolled along the Sacramento River toward the I-Street Bridge. A woman we met along the way said when she was a kid they called it “The Black Bridge." It is a metal-truss swing bridge, which means a piece of it can angle out to leave space for passing big boats.
This drawing shows the I Street Bridge on the west bank. Cars and pedestrians go on top, and trains pass on the bottom level. The river is to the right.
Love,
k
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