Ozark Oddities: Part II

Oddity #2: Still Hangin' In There

In modern day society, we are obsessed with safety. From air bags to antibacterial soap. From warning labels to child choke hazards. We scurry about removing or labeling anything that could possibly harm us in any way. It is therefore rather jarring when I stumble across a little something that breaks this rule. And, I must admit, it’s oddly comforting. Part of my love for St. Louis’s City Museum is the fact that folks are encouraged to climb with wild abandon on rusty metal, hovering several stories above the ground. Hell…they’ll even serve you beer while you do it. And so, while the UFO was a pleasant side-trip, the actual destination was something a bit more anachronistic. File it under: They don’t build ‘em like that anymore. Cuz as cool as the UFO is, no one calls that long gravel road that connects County Road A to the distant Highway 42 “UFO Road”. No…they call it “Swinging Bridges Road.” Because while the scenery along this path is truly stunning, you will eventually be forced to take your life into your own hands and cross one of the most marvelous and menacing structures I’ve ever seen.

Built by Joe Dice (who coupled his poor eyesight and fourth grade education to build over 40 bridges throughout the Missouri area), the old cable and wood suspension bridge that crosses the Auglaize Creek is one of my favorite pieces of history from my hometown. The rusted metal cabling is the same that was strung across the creek with mules in 1930. The wood planks are replaced occasionally, but not often enough to keep boards from rotting away to leave massive gaps in the bridge deck. And the motion, oh the wonderfully terrifying motion of this thing. Just walking on it sends the whole structure undulating. And that says nothing about the full out waves that push along in front and behind each car that dares trust its weight to the ancient span.

The first sight you see as you coast down the road is the bridge’s western edge juttin from the overgrowth like some sort of lost Incan ruin. The sign claims a weight limit of a mere 5 tons…but I find even that a bit optimistic.

You can’t see the other end of the single-lane bridge. There is really only one way to know it there is oncoming traffic. You roll your window down and listen for the telltale “CLACK CLACK CLACK” of the floorboards bouncing under the weight of an oncoming truck. If all is quiet, you should be able to make it safely to the other side in about the time to takes to say the Lord’s Prayer.

I grew up just a few miles up the road from this piece of history. We used to hunt for crawdads in the creek below. I just took it for granted as we drove back and forth across it regularly. Today, however, I’m just astounded that it’s still here and being used on a daily basis. In the twenty minutes or so we spent there, about 5 vehicles crossed the bridge, so it’s not exactly an untraveled path. One of those five vehicles had a 20-something couple in it. They smiled as they clacked over the creek, but the girl’s smile faded after they parked and walked back across the bridge to get a closer look. In fact, she looked downright hostile toward her boyfriend who had driven them across the deathtrap.

I know that at some point the old bridge will have to be replaced or reinforced. A shorter suspension bridge just around the corner was retrofitted with steel flooring and new cabling several years ago. The two bridges are still collectively called the Swinging Bridges even though only one of them still swings. It will be a great day for safety…but a sad day for me when they finally bring the old swinging bridge kicking and screaming into the 21st century.






















Note: All photos can be clicked to view a massive version...the details of age make the download time worth it in my opinion.

Another Note: There are no pictures of the second, smaller bridge because MoMa would not let us drive over this one. At first she said she’d just sit in the back seat and close her eyes. But as soon as the tire touched the wood, she started flailing about and insisted we turn around. She didn’t even like standing on it.