Trucks keep hitting it. But this iconic bridge is the 'undisputed heavyweight champion'

I have been walked on and driven over my entire life but in my 115 years, nothing has ever knocked me down.

And believe me, it’s been tried. Dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

I am the West Avenue girder bridge in Canandaigua and since 1907, I have stood my ground. I am 173 feet of steel strength, but the 67 feet that span the roadway is the muscle you see and the muscle you envy.

Arrogant? Maybe. Confidence? Absolutely.

Because for decades I have been challenged regularly by trucks that weigh in the neighborhood of 80,000 pounds and I have never lost. Not once. I am undefeated.

Maybe standing your ground against a loaded 18-wheeler scares you. But to me, it’s like the mosquito bite you barely feel.

I was built to shoulder the burden of trains that come in at 200 tons and I’ve been doing it flawlessly for decades. And even though my view has never changed, the sights and sounds have so of course, I have stories to tell.

I was here first

My exact age is anyone’s guess but the cornerstone you can see in my foundation suggests I arrived in 1907 to replace a bridge that’s covered this span since at least 1873, when West Ave. was known as Cross Street until 1880.

And thanks for asking, but I am not lonely. I have kin just a block north with the Greig Terrace bridge that arrived around 1920. Take a look and you’ll see the resemblance.

Trains have been rolling into Canandaigua since 1840 and whether they’re coming or going, they have to deal with me. There is no way around me and since Day 1, trains have never been a problem.

It’s the trucks. Every single time.

And after all these years, I have the same questions you ask. Chiefly, why do they keep coming my way? Why do they keep trying?

If you’re coming at me from the east, there is 12-feet, 3-inches of clearance between the road and the bottom of the bridge. From the west, it’s 10-feet, 6-inches.

Today, state law allows for a truck height of 13-feet, 6-inches.

You do the math.

Watch: Stuck concrete truck rescuedDriver hurt after truck gets stuck at West Avenue railroad bridge

For years, it was somewhat understandable since Routes 5 & 20 was the main road for east-west traffic across the state. Trucks couldn’t avoid Canandaigua and as early as 1935, when West Ave. was first paved, city officials in Canandaigua widened the road to 30 feet and lowered the grade under the bridge because of clearance problems.

But still, there wasn’t much space.

In the early 1950s, some truckers coming in from the West got the idea of moving to the left lane for higher clearance. I’m no teacher (I’m not even human), but the potential for disaster was obvious.

So in 1953, city officials announced that drivers doing that would be arrested. And they weren’t joking. Seventeen were arrested and charged with driving on the wrong side of the road in March of 1953.

I heard more than one of those truckers didn’t even bother to stick around for their court date. They just forfeited the $10 bail fee and I’m guessing their company paid it since that was a small price to pay to keep the cargo moving. I can’t verify that, because oddly, drivers over the years are rarely in the mood to talk when we meet up close.

The Thruway helped a little when it opened in 1954 because I saw less traffic overall coming through Canandaigua and it was around then that I heard city officials in Canandaigua start talking about building another road to have traffic avoid me altogether.

That road — literally designed to have traffic bypass Canandaigua to the south — didn’t happen until 1980 and when it opened, I thought I’d never see another truck again.

I was wrong.

‘The side walls just peeled right off’

Like you, I’ve made some friends over the years and one of them is Tom Lay. He’s the owner of Farmington Service and we’ve seen each other off and on since 1982.

Most of his calls for trucks that run into me are mundane and I’ve watched him let the air out of countless trailer tires. That usually gets enough clearance for the trailer to be pulled out, but other trucks aren’t so lucky.

Some trailers were jammed so tight, they had to be sawed and sectioned on the spot. A couple of times, a produce trailer was damaged in the collision, so instead of letting the food spoil without refrigeration, phone calls were made and people came to West Ave. to buy the produce right off the trailer before it spoiled.

If you ask, though, Tom’s favorite happened a few years back when a driver came in from the west. His trailer hit me, but it wasn’t enough to stop the truck and he was lucky enough to catch a green light at Main Street so he kept rolling.

He crossed Main Street, thinking he’d avoided major disaster. But when he reached the area of the old jail on Ontario Street about half a mile later, the sides of the trailer gave way and all the cargo unloaded itself right there on the street.

“It literally butterflied,” he says. “The side walls just peeled right off.”

Of all the mishaps, no one’s been seriously injured except for a couple of drivers whose head hit the windshield. The closest I came to being injured came in the late 1990s when a container truck hauling wine ran into me.

I’ll admit it. It was a heavy load and I felt it.

I heard people talking at the scene that the impact may have even moved me, but it was barely an inch. Not too bad for a bridge that was getting up there in age. Let’s see how firm you stand after taking a hit like that.

I got a look-over and an inspection (you might call it concussion protocol today) but I stayed in the game. They never shut me down, so my streak remained intact.

“It’s the undisputed, heavyweight champion of Canandaigua,” says Jon Welch, the former police chief in Canandaigua who retired in 2016.

Is that an elephant pulling a camel trailer?

Bob Haight, a retired Canandaigua police officer, wasn’t around for that excitement since he retired in 1984. But during his 20-year career on the force, we got to know each other well.

The police department was in City Hall back then and always looked over me from the corner of Main and West Ave. And Haight lived on West Ave., so we saw each other daily.

He’ll tell you that a lot of the trucks that hit me would send vibrations he could feel in his office, collisions that happened even when the city put flashing warning lights on me.

After one collision on a night he was on duty, the truck driver asked to use a phone in the office.

“After the call, he put his keys right on the counter,” Haight says. “He got fired right there, so we got the truck out and moved it to (Parkway Plaza) and the company sent another driver to get it.”

That happened a few times but doesn’t come close to Haight’s favorite, which also happens to be mine.

A circus rolled through town and decided to take West Ave. into Canandaigua. One of the trailers carried a pair of camels and no, the trailer did not clear and was stuck.

“The owner told us not to call the tow company,” says Haight. “They didn’t want to pay for it. They had elephants in another trailer, so they used the elephants to pull the stuck trailer.”

Seriously?

“My wife will tell you the same story,” says a laughing Haight, who I haven’t seen in a while after he moved to South Carolina.

But wait, it gets better. Three Canandaigua kids who were up to no good were at the scene and were laughing at the circus people. So one of the circus workers suggested they stop laughing and help out by picking some nearby grass to feed the camels.

The boys agreed. They had no idea what camels do with chewed food, but the circus workers did. And seeing those boys run off with chewed food spit on them by the camels is a scene that has no challenger for my favorite memory.

The obvious question: Why?

Collisions these days aren’t as frequent but they’re not completely gone, which baffles me. I do have a bit of a reputation for ruining days for some people, but can I really be blamed since I was here first? It’s not like I jump out in front of traffic. I just do what bridges do. I sit there.

Today, there are several signs to the west that warn drivers of what’s coming. You’d think GPS systems would help and they have, except for that stretch a few years back where a system update glitched and made the truck route come through Canandaigua.

“We had calls for collisions on four straight Friday nights,” Tom will tell you.

That’s all been fixed but still, the hits keep coming. It’s hard to figure what drivers are thinking. In 2016, I set a personal best with two trucks in two days, something I never thought I’d get the chance to do.

Do I feel bad for the drivers? Yes and no. But sympathy is difficult when there are so many options, especially the road that locals call the bypass. Most drivers get upset with themselves, knowing they have a boss to answer to and Tom and I have even seen a couple of drivers simply walk away from it all after the truck’s been freed because they know that was their final drive for the company.

“I’d say 30-40% of the drivers were usually fired on the spot,” says Welch, who like most of you tries to understand why drivers by bypass the bypass. “There’s adequate signage, but the most common answer we’d get is GPS would send them that way and they didn’t see the signs. Maybe they’re trying to get to (Route) 21 North to save time.”

Still standing strong

After you do what I do for so long, you have stories. And to be clear, the priority of what I do is carry trains. Getting close and personal with trucks is just a perk and it’s become a bit of a game for me since the most serious injuries are to pride only.

But trains are really what it’s all about and I am proud of the work I’ve been able to do in keeping people and products safe. There are thousands of bridges like me across this country and we’re a vital part of the economic engine that keeps people clothed, fed and warm.

There was a time in the early 1900s when 36 passenger trains a day came through Canandaigua and rolled into the station on Pleasant Street that today is home to Beehive Brew Pub.

In 1860, my tracks brought Stephen A. Douglas through town as he came to visit his mom and sister in Clifton Springs. That was the year he ran for president against Abraham Lincoln and he was in a familiar environment after living here and attending Canandaigua Academy in the 1830s.

In 1892, President Benjamin Harrison rolled through Canandaigua on his way to Rochester to help dedicate the Soldiers and Sailors monument in Washington Square Park and in 1948, it was Harry Truman who came through.

Politicians, farmers, lawyers, immigrants, college students, military personnel, tourists, commuters, judges and workers. They’ve all come to and from Canandaigua over me, not to mention all the cargo of varied goods that came into and left town with my help.

The final passenger train came through Canandaigua in 1958 and today, my burden is much lighter than the 30-plus trains that came through daily more than 100 years ago.

So the peak of my heavy lifting days are behind me and like you, I can sometimes feel my age. I’m older, I’ve faded in spots and yes, I’m definitely set in my ways.

But for some reason, trucks still feel the need to challenge me. And today, just like every year through the last 115, I stand my ground.

I have no idea how many more opportunities I’ll get, but I do know that I have no plans to go anywhere anytime soon. And I mean that literally.

This article originally appeared on MPNnow: West Ave. bridge is the 'heavyweight champion' of Canandaigua NY