I’d heard of the Graffiti bridge before, and I’d seen photos of it as well. Waking up early one Sunday morning I decided to go look for and find the thing. I grabbed my camera, my back pack, coffee, snacks and because it was raining, I grabbed my previously unworn rain coat. Off I went. I had looked up the location of the bridge on Google, and while it wasn’t particularly far from me the road to the location was curvy, and interrupted by construction sites. I won’t complain though. The largest construction site was open and had a clean porta-a-potty. What can I say, I’d drank way too much coffee.
I’d been driving up a narrow road looking for a road that no longer existed. At some point in the last 25yrs or so the bridge’s road had been closed off. I had unknowingly past the road I had been looking for. Doubling back the way I’d come I creeped forward at maybe 5 miles per hour, with my head turned to the left. There! There was the break in the roadside woods I had missed. Backing up and then turning onto the disused road I drove forward. Have you ever been down an abandoned road? Grass, tall weeds, bushes and large chunks of asphalt covered every inch of the road surface. Gravel roads are actually smoother. I figure I had driven about an eighth of a mile before coming to a line of large, heavy boulders, and a sign stating the road was closed. Nothing like Captain Obvious leaving behind a clue, eh?
From the top of a boulder I could see the forgotten road went on for another eighth of a mile or more. The pavement had become eerily beautiful, a riot of green had nearly taken over the surface, but the crumbled and cracked asphalt could still be seen, and traversing the path wasn’t too bad. Red, purple, and yellow flowers adorned the tops of the green expanse. The rain which was coming down intermittently only added to the mystery of the road. All of it was wet from a nearly continuous downpour.From the top of a boulder I could see the forgotten road went on for another eighth of a mile or more. The pavement had become eerily beautiful, a riot of green had nearly taken over the surface, but the crumbled and cracked asphalt could still be seen, and traversing the path wasn’t too bad. Red, purple, and yellow flowers adorned the tops of the green expanse. The rain which was coming down intermittently only added to the mystery of the road. All of it was wet from a nearly continuous downpour.
I hopped down from the boulder and made my way up the narrow black asphalt trail. Occasionally I had to push aside larger weeds, and I took my time reading and looking at the graffiti that peeked out from the weeds and flowers. The trail ended up at another collection of boulders and a well worn mound of reddish dirt with its own skinny path. It was up this path I climbed and at the top of the mound I was rewarded with my first glance at the abandoned bridge. Tree branches surrounded the mound I stood upon, as well as the apron of the bridge. Carefully I made my way dow to the bridge, and once I made my way to the bottom I took a second to take in all that was before me. On the left the bridge was covered with a mix of lichen, water and of course graffiti. The soldiers of the bridge’s rail had been spray painted many times, the right was just as heavily painted. The graffiti made its way from the apron I stood upon and crawled all the way to the far end of the structure where it ended in another mound of boulders and dirt.
I took a little more time to inspect the surface of the bridge before me. One may think I may have been acting a bit over cautious but past experiences have taught me that there’s a lot of wisdom in the old saying “Look before you leap”. When it comes to exploring abandoned places it’s easy to fall victim to unseen dangers. Falling twenty or thirty feet into the river below would have been unpleasant, but falling onto the footings of the bridge would have been truly traumatic. Personally I try to avoid traumatic falls. After exploring the asphalt before me I finally picked up my camera and began to take photos. I walked and photographed the bridge’s colorful graffiti and fell into a peaceful state of being. In my mind I could picture setting up a small camp at the closest apron of the bridge. Nothing too fancy, a cot, a chair, and definitely a card table with a cooler filled with gatorade. Oh, and something to munch on. I particularly enjoyed the views the river. There were more than a few shoots I imagined myself doing at this location. I may yet end up doing so. After an hour of so I realized that the rain was getting worse, and decided to head out. Packing my camera back into my bag, I turned around and made my way back the way I’d come.
Dear readers, I hope you enjoyed this adventure of mine. Please feel free to look at my other posts and if you would subscribe and leave a comment or two.
Forgotten Tennessee 
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