When I am on my way to work, there are two freeways that I must cross, even though my work is only a few miles from my home. One is a conventional freeway, the end of I-55 that I have to go under...

The other is a branch of the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal that is used to ship garbage and rail cars in and out of the city.

(Of course here I am using a very loose definition of freeway). I bike to work as often as I can, but I-55 has become my nemesis and the Ashland Avenue Bridge my ally in this.

There is an El stop right at the junction of Ashland and I-55. This makes for very confusing traffic, and often it is much safer to bike on the sidewalk as opposed to the street. For some reason, no matter what I do, how fast or slow I go, whether I am on the street or the sidewalk, about once a week one of my bike tires will go flat shortly after I cross underneath the bridge.

The bridge is the halfway point between work and home, so on average once a week I end up having to walk half the distance, either to or from. I even tried getting off my bike, walking it from a block before the bridge to a block after, and still my tire went flat. I rode someone else's bike. That tire went flat. I crossed on rollerblades and did a full frontal skid into this miniature marsh that has formed in a sunken sidewalk piece.

I went under on a skateboard and the board twitched and I fell, doing a classic swan dive that garnered me applause from some of the bums that were on the other side of the street and a very large abrasion on my hand. I crossed it on foot and nearly got brained by a falling chunk of concrete.


The freeway is trying to kill me!!!

And I honestly don't know what I did to offend it so. Maybe it's jealous of my relationship with the other bridge, the one over the river. It's only a few blocks away and I'm sure that I-55 can see us when we meet. I try to be subtle about it, but I can't help it.

No matter how tired I am, how bad my day has been, how early or how late the time, the bridge offers me a moment of peace and beauty at the apex as I cross.

In Spring and Fall there is a mist that comes off the river that transforms the garbage scows into vessels of imagination and the pigeons into things not to be poisoned.

I welcome that moment of zen, where I can exist in the here and now, even with the knowledge that within a few blocks I must once again enter into battle with I-55.

Maybe I-55 is offended that I choose to walk under it as opposed to over. The view from the bridge itself is magnificent, affording a look into downtown and past to the lake. But I prefer the underneath, with the cracks and age and unexpected marshes, and even the strange homeless that want to tell you all about the alien conspiracy and cadge smokes off of you. I don't know. I think I am going to try a peace offering of cement or concrete glue. Maybe that will help. And once I can successfully cross underneath I-55, then and only then will I try crossing over.

I don't have the same problems with I-90, but I think it is much too busy trying to kill tourists.

I will post pictures as soon as I get a working camera.

Update: As I was taking these picture and getting very odd looks from the drivers, Another piece of concrete fell and hit my bike.