Dude got charged with trespassing, which satisfies me since I know someone who knows someone else who jumped off the bridge, but forgot their parachute. The video is now private on YouTube, but if you still need something to make your palms sweat, watch this:
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure to practice some of my (amateur) photo skillz. My stylish friends Jessica and Brett hopped the fence with me to get these shots in front of the High Level Bridge. I though I’d share them with all my internet stalker friends.
One of those landmarks which people instantly associate with Lethbridge would be the viaduct, or high-level bridge. It’s also on the masthead of this website (remind me to change that). Sometimes mistaken for being the inspiration for this city’s name, it’s quite the opposite. Bridges were first invented in Lethbridge in the 1820s, which then spread to the rest of the civilized world, using bridges.
This year marks the 100th birthday of the train bridge. Although plenty of articles have already been written, Lethbridge College‘s “Wider Horizons” magazine has a particularly in-depth story, with all sorts of factoids.
The bridge was originally built, at a cost of $1.3 million, to shorten the rail distance between Lethbridge and Fort Macleod. As the late Lethbridge historian Alex Johnston noted in one of his papers: “Up to this point, the bridges constructed in the west had been of wooden timbers. The design chosen for this bridge was a steel viaduct consisting of 44 plate girder spans 67 feet, 1 inch long, 22 plate girder spans 98 feet, 10 inches long, and one riveted deck lattice truss span 167 feet long.
Plans are underway for celebrations later this year, including lighting the bridge up at night.
Jonny’s note: Jenn Prosser, both a student and active community member, is the newest contributor to Lethbian Love.
Lethbridge is a mash up of students and townies. It’s a little like “The Outsiders,” only less hair grease and more church (and I have yet to meet Pony Boy). Students, who make up 12% of the population, are gently tolerated by the rest of city and exist in their own little worlds. Shy and retiring, they live in small clumps, preferring to breed amongst each other. Although they don’t avoid interaction with the “townies,” they do have an annoying habit of assuming everyone under the age of 25 is one of their own.
Berkeley Place, residence buildings and most low-income housing heave with this segment of the Lethbridge population. Rarely venturing outside their invisible boundaries, they prefer to find sustenance in the form of $5 pizzas and Duke wings, and take for granted the endless opportunity for activity at their fingertips.