You’ll find brick streets still in daily use in some cities. But you won’t find any brick highways still in daily use.
I’ve not surveyed every highway in the nation. But I feel good about going out on that limb.
When you find a brick highway, it will be bypassed or abandoned.
This brick road near New Ross, Indiana, used to be part of the Dixie Highway. That was a network of roads that connected Chicago and Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, with Miami. Later, Indiana routed State Road 34 over this road. At some point, probably after a new alignment of this road was built south of those railroad tracks in the upper left corner of the photo, the road became US 136.
In the photo’s foreground, notice the seam where the bricks’ pattern changes. That’s to facilitate a hard turn the road makes here so it can cross those railroad tracks at a right angle.
Eliminating this crossing is why the new highway was built. Providing access to one farm — see the fence on the right? — is why this road wasn’t abandoned.
A bridge was removed from this alignment, however. That’s why a guardrail blocks the road ahead.
See more photos of this brick road here. Map this brick road here.
One of the pleasures of exploring old highway alignments is that you’ll sometimes find old bridges still serving. You’ll find this one carrying State Street over Coal Creek on the south side of Veedersburg, Indiana.
This road was part of the 1914 Dixie Highway, a network of roads that connected Chicago and Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, to Miami, Florida. When the state built its first network of state highways in the late 1910s, it routed State Road 33 from the Illinois state line to Indianapolis over this segment of the Dixie Highway.
In 1926, as part of a renumbering of all state roads, State Road 33 became State Road 34. Probably in that same year it was rerouted about a half mile to the north to run through downtown Veedersburg. Then in 1952, State Road 34 was renamed again, to US 136.
This bridge was never part of the Dixie Highway or State Road 33 or 34. Rather, this bridge was placed here in 1963, replacing an older bridge. This bridge had served on some other state highway. It sometimes happened that the state would improve a highway and replace otherwise good bridges, usually because the road was being widened. This bridge was still in good enough shape to keep serving, so Fountain County officials obtained it and had it installed here.
After exploring the Midwest’s old highways for the past seven years, this is the most important thing I’ve learned: See it now.
The roadway’s built environment changes with time, and artifacts of the past disappear. It’s the natural order of things.
These buildings in Crawfordsville houses Cornett’s Furniture. When I made my Dixie Highway trips last year, I looked forward to reaching Crawfordsville so I could finally photograph the great neon sign on the building on the left. “Wait,” I hear you say, “what neon sign?” Exactly. It’s gone, and I was very disappointed.
Not long ago while looking for a photo in my archive, I was excited to find I had photographed the sign a couple years before. I’d simply forgotten about it.
While driving the old National Road in western Indiana in 2009, I finally photographed the Kleptz Bar neon sign in Seelyville, just east of Terre Haute. It’s on the left in the photo below; the sign on the right is relatively recent. During the years I lived in this area, the Kleptz Bar sign was a beacon in the night. About a month after I photographed it, it was taken down and has not returned. Every time I drive through the area after twilight, I miss seeing it glow.
Finally, recently I found an old map from the early days of the national route system that showed an older US 40 alignment through West Terre Haute. It’s outlined in blue below; the road labeled National Ave. was the first realignment. (US 40 now follows I-70, which is south of town.) I’ve always wondered if this might be an older alignment; finding that old map confirmed it for me. When I lived in Terre Haute in the 1980s, part of this alignment was paved in concrete. Because it was once part of US 40, that concrete was probably poured in the 1920s. I really wanted to get out there and see it again!
But first I looked at it in Google Street View — and found that the old concrete had been covered with asphalt. That’s a real shame, because any concrete road from the 1920s is historic and needs to be considered for preservation.
This has me thinking of several other places I need to visit before they’re gone, too.
Most photos I take when I’m on a road trip are documentary. I take care to compose them as well as I can so they’re pleasing, but my primary goal is to show the road and its context of landscape and built environment. Once in a while on the road I find something that creates a feeling in me, and I set about trying to capture whatever it is about the scene that generated it. I guess that makes those photographs art.
Honestly, I struggle with the notion of myself as an artist. As a boy I was acquainted with a number of artists and whatever I remember them to be, I’m not. I went to engineering school, for heaven’s sake, and make software for a living – my world has long been filled with the concrete, the factual, the practical, the purposeful. Certainly, creativity overflows in these hard disciplines. As you know, I think truss bridges are beautiful. But more than that, I respect and admire how their beauty is always second to their purpose. Yet here I am, trying to make something beautiful, or something that tells a story, or something that creates a feeling, just for its own sake. And wet is dry, and left is right, and up is down.
And now, a few art photos from my recent Dixie Highway tour.
This is a door on the Fountain County Courthouse in Covington. These doors seemed so severe and imposing. I shot digital on this trip; all my black-and-white shots are that way thanks to Photoshop. That conversion made this door even more severe and imposing.
I spotted a ghost sign on a building in Crawfordsville a block north of the Dixie and moved in to capture this detail. I punched up the contrast a little, which brought out some really nice textures in the image.
A storefront in Waynetown had this old-style entry. I’ve seen a lot of old commercial buildings in small Indiana towns but very few entries like this one, as so many have been modernized over the years. Converted to black and white, this photo reminded me of a scene from the 1930s, save for the modern credit-card stickers on the window.
And finally, a color shot just how it came out of the camera. This is an old alignment of the Dixie west of Brownsburg. I like the relentless green framing the gray road, how the sun faintly shines onto the road through the trees, and how the window reveals the unexpectedly lurking house.
When I get home from a road trip, as soon as I can I transfer the photos from my camera to my computer and geotag them. If I wait too long, I’m likely to forget where I took some of the shots.
It’s a darn good thing I didn’t delay after this trip, or I would never have sorted out the photos from all the small towns. They all looked too much alike! Here’s downtown Hillsboro.
Down the road a bit is Waynetown.
Farther along comes Pittsboro.
And finally, there’s Brownsburg.
I’m sure I’ll rankle the preservationists in my audience when I say that buildings like these were sort of the strip malls of their day – utilitarian facilities for a town’s commerce. To mollify the preservationists, I’ll say that these buildings were designed to last where strip malls aren’t, and are ripe for adaptive reuse in ways strip malls never will be.
While Hillsboro, Waynetown, and Pittsboro are all sleepy little Indiana towns, what you can’t see in the photo from Brownsburg is that it is a giant bedroom community for Indianapolis, which is close by. This photo is of Brownsburg’s main intersection, where the Dixie Highway (US 136) intersects State Road 267. The other three corners probably once had buildings just like these, but they’ve been torn down in favor of a bank, a Walgreens, and a CVS. Ah, progress. I think I’d rather have the old buildings, as plain as they probably were.
The old buildings in Old Washington, Ohio, on the National Road, have tons of character. Check them out!
The Dixie Highway originally cheerfully passed through New Ross about 12 miles southeast of Crawfordsville, but just southeast of town the road crossed a railroad track after a sharp curve. Indiana’s highway engineers devised a new route that crossed the tracks more safely, bypassing New Ross in the process.
There’s not much to New Ross, but plenty of people were out and about there when I visited. Here’s its most prominent structure, on Main Street, which runs perpendicular to the Dixie Highway.
That US 136 passed New Ross by doesn’t seem to have bothered it. There are plenty of signs of life here, most notably the delightful 1878 Browns Chapel Methodist Episcopal Church, which has been well kept.
Beyond the stop sign the old Dixie Highway leads to a few homes before dead ending at a creek. On the other side of the creek, the road enters Boone County.
The Dixie Highway spends very little time in Boone County, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in the greatest old alignment west of Indianapolis. It’s paved in brick! Have I ever mentioned how happy it makes me when I find an old bridge or old pavement that used to serve on an important highway? Oh my, but it does. Here’s a westbound shot as the road emerges from the creek.
At some point, the bridge that carried the Dixie’s older alignment was demolished. The brick road begins east of where the bridge was. This entire alignment through New Ross was surely once paved in brick, but this remnant is all that’s left. It provides access to one property. The resulting ultra low traffic is certainly why this segment has never been covered in asphalt.
When you zoom the map in a little closer, another bridge becomes visible. I was hoping to see it, but couldn’t find a way that didn’t involve trespassing. Fortunately, someone on Bridgehunter.com photographed it; see it here. I used to think this was a road bridge on an even older alignment of the road, but now I think it was an Interurban bridge, and the old tracks have been removed. I wouldn’t be surprised if the old bridge is still used by the landowner.
The brick road curves to cross the tracks squarely. There’s a little asphalt on either side of the tracks, I presume to smooth the crossing for drivers.
Concrete curbs are visible on the curve.
Here’s the brick road as it heads due south toward modern US 136, which is at the Stop sign.
I’ve also found plenty of oldbrick highway on the National Road in Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio.