The only vestiges of the old bridge are the places where its arches once touched down. Rebar sticks out like coarse, unruly hair.
Most of the bridge’s pieces must have been carted away, but some piles of concrete chunks remain. This photo looks up at the south approach.
A staggering amount of rebar is left in the rubble. I stepped carefully to protect against ripping my jeans or, worse, my skin on the jagged ends.
It took a month to demolish this bridge, and it will take the rest of the year to build the new one here. I was surprised at first by how fast this bridge went down. But then I considered how easy it is to destroy anything compared to the work required to restore or rebuild something.