A nonmotorized bridge over the Wisconsin River

Now that's progress
by Terry Wiegert
Is your city growing? Do you have a Red Lobster or an Applebee's? Is the mall full? Are they adding new roads? Are you getting a Lowes next to your Menards? How many banks have been built in the last few years? These are the yardsticks by which most people gauge "progress" in their communities. But I ask you, is that really progress?

The interstate that hums constantly a half mile from my home is now six lanes wide with a speed limit of 65 mph. Hundreds of millions of dollars are being spent to install high-speed interchanges so we don't have to slow down when exiting from Highway 39 to 29 or vice versa. Is this necessarily progress? Is it worth the cost?

In our town, there are typically three new strip malls under various stages of construction. These are eventually filled with tons of shirts or shoes made in ... uh ... how do you pronounce that country's name? The city streets are under constant reconstruction to add turning lanes and more traffic lights to ensure easy access to these mini-malls.

It's all about money and commerce. A bigger metropolitan area with more intertwining highways and frontage roads lined with shop after shop filled with much of the same stuff is apparently the goal.

My hometown has essentially the same population it had 20 years ago but now has at least twice as many stores and many more roads. Did we need that? Is that progress? Someone thinks so. I know the civic leaders think so. Municipalities are constantly bidding against each other for the next Best Buy or Home Depot or big brick bank. They set up TIF districts, install storm sewers and widen streets. They do whatever is necessary, spending our tax money to promote this "progress."

Recently, however, there is a slight, almost imperceptible shift in this progress. I'm seeing progress of a different type and it's most visible for me in Rothschild in the Wausau, Wisconsin, area over the Wisconsin River. There a new pedestrian/biking bridge was recently completed and opened. That's right. It's only for people walking, running or riding bikes. No motor vehicles allowed. But how does this support the traditional version of progress? It doesn't. No cars can cross it. It is only one lane wide. It doesn't have a strip mall at either end. It wasn't  installed to support more commerce.

The nonmotorized bridge was installed to support a higher quality of life.

The most amazing thing about this bridge is that it actually happened. In the end, it cost $1.6 million and yet it happened. In today's economy, this is a minor miracle and makes a statement. It says, "We're starting to think a little differently. We're thinking about silent sports as a society a little more. We're thinking about the simple things. We're deciding to spend our precious tax dollars to slow our lives down rather than speed them up." In my opinion, this is progress.

The bridge links the town of Rib Mountain with the village of Rothschild and provides a route for bicycles to continue safely from the west end of the Mountain Bay Trail, which runs from Wausau to Green Bay. It's a 500-foot concrete-decked, steel-trussed structure that opens up new options. The stretch of Wisconsin River that it traverses had no safe crossing for pedestrians or cyclists. The interstate bridges are three miles southwest (and they're interstates) and the downtown Wausau bridges are five miles north. In fact, there was no bike-accessible crossing for the 15 miles between Wausau and Mosinee. It was a tough situation for those not traveling by car.

But now there is the silent bridge alone 45 feet above Wisconsin's largest river with a half-mile-long paved approach meandering through daisies and purple loosestrife on the west and a small neighborhood park on the east. It's a beautiful setting. I ride the bridge twice every weekday on my way to and from work. I've been doing this all spring and summer. And as the days go by, I've noticed more and more people using it. Gas prices are a reason for this, I admit. But I doubt I'm the only one out there just to save money.

As I exit my driveway early every week day morning, I smell flowers, I hear birds and I feel the wind in my face. And because of my work schedule, I leave early enough to see and feel the sun rising. It's peaceful, beautiful and soothing. It is the highlight of my morning. It makes me feel differently when I arrive at the factory on the east side of the river. I'm somehow calmer and happier.

Of course, when I drove my car to work, the birds were still chirping and the flowers blooming, but I was oblivious as I bolted down the interstate in my well-insulated, soundproof metal box, passing people doing 62 because I wanted to get where I was going quicker. What was I thinking?

My bicycle commute over the new bridge is five miles each way and takes about 20 minutes depending on the wind and my mood. Granted, the car gets me to work and back about 10 minutes sooner, but now I'm exercising so I'm saving time I'd otherwise spend working out. It's a synergy, commuting and exercising simultaneously, and both for free, no less. I'm not paying for the energy needed to travel and I'm not paying for a fitness club membership. It's a win-win. (After years of working in a business environment, terms like "win-win"and "synergy" come to mind all too easily.)

The benefits of the bridge are not mine alone. The bridge represents progress in the direction our world needs to head. It's a direction that simplifies life and supports the conservation of nonrenewable resources. It's a direction that supports personal health, both physical and mental, for everyone who uses it. Getting exercise, saving money, polluting less and experiencing nature are all good for your spirit and buoys one's mental well being.

As for that six-lane interstate that hums by my house, well a very nice, new concrete tunnel was recently built under it. The tunnel further allows bikers and pedestrians to commute and reach Rib Mountain State Park without the need for a car. That structure wasn't cheap either. But I smile when I coast through the tunnel on my bike. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and to me that light reveals the best way forward.

Terry Wiegert lives in Rib Mountain and is an engineer at Domtar Paper Company in Rothschild. Married for 25 years and a father of three children, he’s an avid road cyclist.