Historians Hope to Devise Plan to Restore Structure to Its Former Glory

Tom Mason sweeps his arm toward Bow Bridge, a rare type of span that now stretches uselessly across the Sacandaga River.

“A headache,” Mason says of the lenticular truss bridge, one of the few left standing but now proposed for demolition to make way for a modern vehicular bridge. The deteriorating Bow Bridge has been off-limits to vehicles and pedestrians since 1983, its deck rotted and gashed, with holes to the rushing water 45 feet below.

On each side of the deck, the historic bridge resembles an archer’s bow, the pavement the bowstring flanked above and below by iron arches. It is anchored to sturdy stone abutments and a single pier set into the river.

Mason is supervisor in this town of 1,800 set in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains. His headache comes from trying to preserve this dying link to the past, protect the public safety and get vehicles across. He’s working preservationists to try to accomplish all three.

“I need a two-lane bridge here with at least a 5-foot sidewalk,” he tells William Chamberlin and Paula Dennis, who are leading the fight to save the span. “If I win, you lose. If you win, I lose. If we somehow do both, great.”

“This is an asset to our community,” counters Chamberlin, a retired engineer and bridge historian. “Not only historically important but aesthetically very pleasing.”

Others have joined the cause to save the bridge, built in 1885 and listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

“From a national perspective, the bridge is an exceptional example of the American bridge-building art,” says Eric DeLony, chief of the National Park Service’s Historic American Engineering Record. “It’s extraordinarily rare and extraordinarily significant.”

Men at the Veterans of Foreign Wars lodge near the bridge reflect local sentiment.

“There has to be a [vehicle] bridge across there,” says Glenn Trackey. “But why shouldn’t we try to save the last bridge of that architectural style in the country?”

At Mason’s urging, the county in early May agreed to delay demolition to give Chamberlin and Dennis time to look for the estimated $600,000 it will cost to rehabilitate the bridge. For now, the county will remove the asphalt-and-timber deck to keep debris from falling into the river, and better secure the entrances to try to keep people off.

Mason says the town and county are opposed to paying for a bridge that won’t carry cars: In 1994 the town refused to come up with a $67,000 match for a $349,000 federal transportation grant. Chamberlin and Dennis hope to get state and federal grants for repairs.

Since 1813 there has been a bridge here, linking areas settled in the late 18th century by farmers and then timber executives. When a fire destroyed the original wooden covered bridge in 1885, the town voted to erect the iron span.

The Berlin Iron Bridge Company of Connecticut built the span using a design patented by William O. Douglas of Binghamton in which the deck is in the exact center of the trusses. The company built two others in New York’s mid-Hudson Valley that have since disappeared.

Town leaders closed the bridge in 1972, deeming it unsafe for traffic. Local pressure got it fixed up and reopened, but to just one vehicle at a time with a speed limit of 10 mph. It closed for good--including to pedestrians--in 1983.

Despite signs warning to keep off, a worn path, beer cans and other debris are evidence that people cross the bridge anyway.

Rotted timbers and rusting steel beams are visible through the decaying asphalt. Near the northern bank, a 30-inch gash in the pavement runs the full 17-foot width of the bridge, offering a glimpse of the river below. Along the sides the asphalt has crumbled, giving the edges the appearance of burnt parchment. The undulating roadway underfoot feels mushy, and trespassers are cautioned to walk on high spots that indicate a beam below.

Mason can think of a reason to save the bridge: money.

Hadley hasn’t had a major industry since the last paper mill closed about a century ago, leaving tourism as its main source of revenue. There are plans for a two-mile nature walk up the northern bank of the Sacandaga but, without a bridge, no way to get to the southern bank.

The river is a draw to kayakers and canoeists who take advantage of the rush when a utility upstream releases water for its hydroelectric plant.

There is discussion of a permanent kayak slalom course in the fast-moving water as well as a “rodeo hole” where kayakers perform tricks, Mason said. Such amenities could make the river attractive for national or international water sports events.

“Tourism is the only thing I’ve got,” Mason says. “We know we have something here that I don’t know if they have it anywhere else and, as much as I hate to admit it, that bridge is a big part of it.”