Hiram was gone last weekend, enjoying the annual guys-riding-motorcycles-on-winding-roads weekend with my sister’s husband. Therefore, I started my annual I-can-do-whatever-I-want-since-there’s-no-one-around weekend with a walk on the recently completed High Trestle Trail not to far from where we live.
The twenty-five mile trail runs along an abandoned Union-Pacific railroad line. Every inch of the scenery along the 3 miles I explored was lush and lovely. The crowning jewel was the half-mile long, High Trestle Bridge across the Des Moines River. The Des Moines River valley is loaded with spectacular views, so I was expecting the beautiful view.
But I wasn’t expecting the old railroad bridge turned walking/biking trail to be a work of art. Yet with lovely twin pillars at each and a canopy created with iron girders turned every which way, the bridge was at the breathtaking center of panoramic scenery.
The beauty was so distracting I forgot to be scared of heights, and that’s saying something for someone who thinks the third rung of a ladder is too far off the ground for comfort. Sure, halfway across the bridge I had the fleeting thought, “This would not be a good time for the New Madrid earthquake fault to act up,” but then the circular pattern of the girders distracted me, and I went back to thinking “pretty” and “shiny.”
My only regret is that Hiram wasn’t there so we could see it for the first time together. Then again, maybe we can trek across this Iowa treasure together when the leaves start turning in a few weeks. In the meantime, perhaps I can pick up a seismometer cheap on eBay and start monitoring Iowa’s earthquake activity. Then again, I could throw caution to the wind and live dangerously.
That sounds a lot easier than the operating manuel for a seismometer, don’t you think?
