Bridges that span intermittent streams get my immediate attention. When I arrived here from the East Coast in the late 60s, the plan was to mold a rugged parcel of land into a homestead. The property bracketed a small stream near the headwaters of the Pecos River. So it was a natural choice to build a bridge across it.

We chose a narrow section with solid banks on each side, just upstream from the irrigation ditch that ran to a small grid of vegetables below. Our closest neighbor, a sheepherder with an affection for Chevy Corvairs, watched from a polite distance as we slung cables, then cross beams, then planks over the gap. The bridge was solid. And we were debating building a second when the perennial monsoon rain struck in late August. The downpour joined a large snowmelt to uproot the bridge and send the timbers battering down the channel. Meanders and oxbows disappeared, along with the regular rows of tomatoes and the three feet of topsoil they called home.

This tale would be no more than an anecdote, were it not that washouts are all too common in the high desert Southwest. And the more substantial the structure, the more destruction it does downstream. In a case sited in the Historic Bridge Survey, major damage was reported in August 1925. Ten inches of rain in four days was enough to cause the Rio Grande and Mimbres River to overflow. The flood washed out roads, bridges and railway lines as the debris tumbled downstream.

So give some respect to those hard working trusses that carry you speeding across flood plains.

Bay Stevens