Why Route 66’s Bridges Are Collapsing

Across the American heartland, dozens of forgotten bridges still stand along the historic alignment of US Route 66. A few do remain in use, but many others have been closed to traffic. Their steel beams are slowly dissolving in what engineers describe as a gradual state of structural failure. In some cases, the damage is so severe that a single hammer strike could punch straight through the metal, suggesting that for many of these bridges, collapse is no longer a question of if rather when. So how did America's main street become a graveyard of crumbling bridges and what, if anything, can be done to save them? Stay tuned to find out as today we uncover the collapsing bridges of US Route 66. I'm your host Ryan Socash and you're watching It's History. To understand the story of these bridges, we have to look back to the early 20th century and examine the challenges that defined American transportation. Before Route 66, continental travel was fractured, a localized experience. Early efforts to cross the American landscape, such as the Old Spanish Trail, were dangerous journeys. But by the early 20th century, that challenge had shifted from survival to engineering. Highways like that Old Spanish Trail, which eventually evolved into a roadway, required massive infrastructure projects, including expensive bridges such as the one built at Lake Charles, Louisiana. With that in mind, when the concept of Route 66 emerged in the 1920s, the government sought to link existing individual roadway segments into one continuous east-west artery. This way, they could connect the dots but without breaking the bank. However, this plan came with a hidden cost. You see, in addition to the roads themselves, planners also had to repurpose some of America's oldest bridges, a detail that will become very important later in our story. One of the clearest examples of this is the Colorado River Bridge near Topoc, Arizona. This structure dates back to the 1890s and was originally constructed by the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. By the rise of Route 66, it could no longer handle the weight of modern trains. Hence, a highway deck was installed, turning that 19th century railroad relic into a car bridge. This type of repurposing was not uncommon along the route. It was pragmatic, a short-term solution. But even by the time of construction, these older bridges had already been fatigued by nearly half a century of use, which made the arrangement poor as a long-term solution. Furthermore, the choice of repurposing roads along 2,448 miles also meant that the industrial engineering was diverse, with many different regional architectural styles appearing along the way. In Pontiac, Illinois, the Old Log Cabin Bridge, officially known as the Riverside Park Bridge, was originally built for local use. However, it was absorbed into the first alignment of U.S. Route 66. Though it wouldn't last long, as its narrow width and sharp approach eventually made it a relic of the highway as it evolved into a four-lane thoroughfare. Further west in Kansas, the Rainbow Bridge became a symbol of industrial Midwestern beauty, and the public embraced it as For reference, the communities along Route 66 were once isolated. So, in being connected to the rest of the country, they didn't necessarily see the bridge as just utilitarian crossings. Rather, many of them saw these bridges as monuments to progress, proof that even small towns were connected to the expanding national highway system. And this notion remains important to the modern day. In Kansas, that sentiment has actually endured. Even after the replacement span was built in 1992, the original Rainbow Bridge was preserved and remains open as a nostalgic landmark. And beyond that, spanning the South Canadian River, is the William H. Murray Bridge, reflective of the scale of the West. It features 38 glorious spans, stretching almost 4,000 feet long. Onlookers of the time recalled this bridge as, quote, a golden ribbon of steel that conquered the landscape itself. In the high desert of New Mexico, the Rio Puerco Bridge stands as a haunting reminder of the route's evolution. Completed in 1933, this metal parker through truss bridge was a state-of-the-art solution for crossing the unpredictable riverbed below it. However, its narrow 10-foot lanes were built to accommodate something more like a Ford Model A, and so the massive semi-trucks that emerged in the 1950s would bottleneck at the entrance of this structure. For that reason, it was abandoned, left in the brush, bypassed by the roaring engines of Interstate 40, just a few hundred feet away. Finally, in Pasadena, California, the Colorado Street Bridge offered a striking portal to the American West. Designed on a graceful curve so its arches could anchor securely into the streambed below, the bridge blended engineering necessity with architectural ambition. And I'd like to emphasize that for travelers arriving along U.S. Route 66, this felt less like a simple crossing and more like an entrance into California itself. With the long journey westward, it finally met that promise of sunshine, growth, and opportunity. In that sense, the bridge reflected the broader culture of California during the early automobile era. A place that celebrated modern design, spectacle, and the idea that the west was not just a destination, but a dream that could be realized. As automobile travel surged in the early decades after the route's opening, these bridges became monuments along the journey west. Yet, practically speaking, although many of these bridges were indeed intended to propagate civic pride, they were not really monuments at all. Which is why, even when the public grew attached to them, they were still treated as pieces of working infrastructure. Structures that may carry traffic, but not necessarily memory. And when the demands of modern travel changed, sentiment alone was rarely enough to save them. Route 66 was never meant to be static. It was constantly re-engineered as traffic increased. And by the mid-20th century, some of its most iconic bridges had already been phased out. Maintaining safe conditions along the highway was always a constant struggle. Some bridges had to be replaced to handle growing traffic. And by the mid-century, many still in service were actually in very poor condition. And here's my point. While these bridges may seem old from today's perspective, the reality was that by the 1950s, many of Route 66's most famous spans, especially those repurposed that we discussed earlier, had already taken on a distinctly weathered appearance. An appearance that brings us to the notion of Americana. By the post-war boom of the 1950s, Americans were increasingly drawn to nostalgia, embracing a romanticized vision of their past. This was the era when Americana took hold. A broad collection of cultural imagery, artifacts, and traditions that captured the spirit and identity of the United States. In that context, it makes perfect sense that Route 66 sat at the heart of the sentiment. It was the last chapter in a long American tradition of westward movement. From Lewis and Clark, to the wagons on the tracks of Oregon Trail, and the Transcontinental Railroad. Though there was at least one very significant difference. This was the first time that the journey west became truly accessible to ordinary people. In that light, it's easier to understand why America came to see the bridges of Route 66 as something more than just infrastructure. They were physical reminders of a road that symbolized the newest stage in America's westward story. Or as author and Route 66 historian Michael Willis once observed, the road ingrained itself into the nation's psyche. Landmarks like Wigwam Village Motels and the U-Drop Inn became cultural anchors along the way. But as powerful as that mythology became, it didn't matter much to a government that was looking for progress. And that government would end this tradition with the stroke of a pen. The 1966 Federal-Aid Highway Act catalyzed the downfall of Route 66. Passed in the name of national security to facilitate the rapid movement of troops and supplies, the route was bypassed and large. And just like that, older narrow spans of U.S. Route 66 were suddenly viewed as obsolete. In their place came the new interstate highway system, a network of faster, wider, limited-access roads designed for speed and efficiency. This network bypassed the old roads, diverting traffic away from the communities and bridges that once defined it. From that point on, maintenance funding for the original roadway began to disappear and decades of neglect set in. The bridges, in particular, suffered from what engineers called selection loss, a slow structural decay caused by oxidation and corrosion. This decay is so advanced that one engineer remarked that in some cases, a single hammer blow would punch right through the weakened I-beams like these old icons. So, although some bridges do remain in use, many others are simply fading into disrepair. Consider the historic trail bridge near Topaka, Arizona. This graceful steel arch once carried Route 66 across the Colorado River, but by 1947, it was deemed too light for post-war heavy traffic loads. While many such bridges were scrapped, this one was saved by necessity. It was converted to carry a vital natural gas pipeline, which is why it still stands today, overlooking the very waters it once conquered in the name of automobiles. The Merrimack River Bridge in southwest St. Louis County was closed to traffic in 2009 after its steel beams and concrete piers reached a state of terminal deterioration. Likewise, the Devil's Elbow Bridge, which crosses the Big Piney River, has endured decades of flooding and structural damage, and with each occurrence, its piers have been battered, slowly weakening the century-old structure, bringing it closer and closer to its end. And its story is not unique, as that same fate hangs over the massive 1,008-foot Warren Trust Bridge, which engineers have declared beyond recovery and it's been scheduled for demolition. Still, preservationists continue to fight for what remains. Organizations such as Great Rivers Greenway have proposed multi-million dollar restoration efforts that would convert some of these older spans into pedestrian parkways, bike trails, and all the rest of it. Success is rare, but it's not impossible. In Oklahoma, for example, a route bridge from 1924 west of Oklahoma City was restored in 2011, offering a glimpse of what preservation might look like. But if we're being honest, for most of these bridges, time and the necessity of speed over nostalgia have already decided their fate. So that's the story of the Lost Bridges of Route 66, and if there's one takeaway from this episode, it's that you should probably celebrate these icons while you still can, as many more will be lost in our lifetime. We'll leave it there for today, but I thank you all for watching. If you've got an episode idea for time, if you guys like when I'm authentic, right? At least I'm not an AI voice. Let me try to say it again. If any of you have an episode idea for the show, let me know in the comment section below. Otherwise, I thank you for watching, and as always, this is Ryan Socash, signing off.