Last weekend one of my all-time favorite bridges was burned, all the way into the Colorado River below, of course I remember the crazy times driving the cattle truck to Grand Junction and having to fold in the mirrors, not able to make it through otherwise but I also was reminded of the first trip that Becky and I took to Moab, right before we got engaged, guess I didn't scare her off too much. Nor did my cousins. We were on our way out of town and wanted to see the river so we drove up and took a stroll across the bridge, thankfully we did that almost five years ago because we couldn't anymore.
Of course this is what it looked like that fateful night........
1 comment:
Memories ar always best when shared. I shall miss the bridge too. It must be a family tradition because I had taken Bruce to it as well.
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