10.07.2002 - 11:54 a.m.

Besides potholes and rocks, Pennsylvania is full of little stone and iron bridges arcing over small highways. They are all marked, several hundred feet beforehand: Clearance: 13' 10", and again in little signs on the underside of the bridge itself.

But just for a moment, let's imagine that I am the poor schmuck driving an eighteen-wheeler that just happens to be 14' even. The first sign gives me just enough time to swear a blue streak and slam on the brakes, although this is assuming that I am paying enough attention in the first place.

So anyway, I brake, and I find myself entirely stopped maybe three feet from where the bridge would shear off my top two inches. There is a hill on one side of the road, and the median is a big ditch. Traffic is skidding to a stop behind me in a rapidly lengthening jam whose only outlet is the trickle of yahoos who keep zipping past me on the shoulder.

Now what?

-stonebridge

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