The view while driving over the Sewalls Falls Bridge, spanning the mighty Merrimack River, is lovely this time of year.
So colorful and peaceful. So utterly New Hampshire.
What’s that, you ask? How do I know this? Well, not to rub it in, folks, but yours truly drove over this state-of-the-art masterpiece of engineering on Monday, on my way to work, and I’m doing it again today.
Yep, I was king of the road, the big cheese, Dale Earnhardt Jr. taking the checkered flag, the driver with a red carpet spread out before him. I actually waved toward each new guardrail, imagining a throng of people welcoming me.
The electronic sign near the entrance on Sewalls Falls told the story. “Road Closed Ahead.”
That message was for you.
“Concord Monitor Only.”
That one was for me.
It’s been a long time coming since our version of the George Washington Bridge closed, this one for renovations after 100 years, not because someone wanted revenge on our mayor, Jim Bouley.
And no one deserves this privilege more than me, because I’ve paid my dues. The old bird-cage bridge closed 23 months ago, at which time I continued to drive to work along the route I’d taken for years.
In a knee-jerk reaction, before I’d been jump-started with coffee, meaning my car was basically on cruise control each morning, my routine included Route 3, Abbott Road, Manor Road, stop sign, bang a left, over bridge, into parking lot, write a column.
Then, in December of 2014, my life changed. The problem wasn’t finding the alternative way to work once the bridge closed. That was easy: U.S. 4 East, Hoit Road, Mountain Road, Sewalls Falls, parking lot, write a column.
The hard part was remembering that I had to follow that alternative way to work, and that took about a month before it seeped into my brain.
The memory lapse was maddening, and perhaps you recall hearing me all those mornings when I approached the stop sign that connects Manor to Sewalls Falls.
I said the same thing each time it happened, each time I saw the orange sign telling me there was no left turn and the bridge was closed and I couldn’t get to work that way and I had done it again.
“AAAAH!!”
And while I’m whining about this lifestyle change, my life was altered in another way: my commute had gone from 2.5 miles to 4.2.
Now that might not sound like a long way, but I’ve calculated this in long-range terms, over the 23 months since the bridge closed.
Those 3.4 miles per day, driven over those 23 months, averaging those five work days per week, equaled about 1,600 miles. Further research revealed that I could have driven to Miami and halfway back during the extra time it took me to reach work.
“AAAAH!!”
There’s more. It took me weeks to remember that assignments reachable by cutting over the bridge, allowing me to arrive in mere minutes, now required a long loop around, on Mountain Road. That meant an extra 15 minutes, minimum, to get there.
It also meant lines like this: “Sorry I’m late for this assignment, but I forgot that the Sewalls Falls Road Bridge was closed.”
The bridge closing also meant an end to those quick lunches I’d grown accustomed to, the mile drive to the Thirty Pines Market or Subway or Szechuan Garden.
No more. Everything was a road trip once the bridge closed.
Then, on Monday, my life changed again, this time for the better, returning to a simpler time, a happier time, a more convenient time. My 2.5-mile trip returned. My access to a quick lunch did, too.
And the new bridge is beautiful, with a little viewing area built into the guardrail and a sturdier, more secure feeling. Plus, it’s got wider lanes for simultaneous two-way traffic.
Remember the old days, when you’d cross the bridge, owning the right-of-way because you’d gotten to it before the driver on the other side? Remember when sometimes that driver ignored the rules and continued forward onto the bridge before you had gotten off it, squeezing you in tight?
“AAAAH!!”
That’s all in the past. I got a taste of the new bridge Monday. And once the road work is done on Sewalls Falls toward Mountain Road on Nov. 11, the bridge will be open for us all.
Now, if I can only remember that I no longer have to go the long way around. I forgot on Monday.
“AAAAH!!”
(Ray Duckler can be reached at 369-3304 or rduckler@cmonitor.com or on Twitter @rayduckler.)