The definitive ranking of all pedestrian bridges in Midland

It connects the now-abandoned Farmers Market structure, the rail trail trailhead, Chippewassee Park, and St. Charles Park. There are a lot of other civic structures around, too. A playground, dog park, a skate park, a creepy family statue hill, a disc golf course, baseball diamonds, a splash park, and trails around the river. Plus the rest of downtown Midland.

I think all of those sprung up because of the Tridge. It is the civic heart of Midland.

You can see why. The Tridge didn’t have to be so good. Rounded curved supports. Great lines from the wooden rails and the beams. Beautiful stained wood. Its beauty is magnified on a sunny day.

It takes people thirty feet above the rivers, giving them a good view of the waters ahead and the industry below.

The Tridge is not as sturdy as it looks. It has a little bit of sway. You can feel it rustle under the foot traffic of fellow pedestrians.

I’ve heard Midlanders expound on the rarity of three span bridges. I guess? But it’s not the number of spans that make it noteworthy, it’s the architecture. There’s this cool-looking bridge here. It sticks out, like it did to me when I first laid eyes on it. The three spans make the Tridge, and gives us its quaint but harsh-sounding portmanteau name. Its beauty is what makes it Midland’s foundation.

It captivates Midlanders’ imaginations. It gave the town something to build upon. And something to build around, as the continuous additions to the area demonstrate.

Without the Tridge, I don’t think you get as many of the pedestrian bridges of Midland. Certainly not the new ones in the Whiting Forest expansion.

My pictures here underplay the Tridge. There are much better photos.

Top tier, #1 pedestrian bridge of Midland. Beyond Dow Chemical, it’s what people think of when they think of Midland.

It delivers. The canopy walk takes people high above the orchards, through some trees, and into the swamp. People can lay on its nettings, visit its wooden eggs, traverse a rope bridge, look down through a glass floor some forty feet above the ground, and enjoy the sights of a swamp pond. The pond has something going for it in all four seasons. Dragonflies and swallows dart around it in most seasons. There is a fireplace and orange metal lounges on the far side.

The rails are made of a baseball bat-like wood. The metal netting below adds a modern touch.

The canopy walk has orange rods jutting out of rock slabs for some reason. I guess to draw your attention.

There is a red angled metal roof that probably gives a nice snare drum beat in the rain. Parts of it are overrun with pine needles, and I wonder whether that was something its designers intended.

The planking is dusty wood boards with portions of metal grating. Maybe people in cities feel more comfortable with grating, but I avoid it. Most other guests seem to, too.

It seems like the kind of place that would be perfect to rent for a summer evening cocktail party. I’ve never seen it used for cocktail parties.

Yet it doesn’t deliver on its premise. It’s billed as a canopy walk, someplace to get people closer to the body of leaves around trees. It never quite gets there. The most frequent trees around it are straight pines that aren’t that different twenty feet up than they are at ground level. You’re not getting their canopy from where the bridge is. But it is pretty cool to see them growing through the holes built into the bridge for them.

Yes, the canopy walk has a lot of nifty features. It’s a beautiful bridge that gives people something neat to see, and lets them see pretty things.

Handicap accessible, too. No stairs at all, save for some emergency ones closed off to normal guests.

It’s a solid #2 for pedestrian bridges of Midland, even though it goes nowhere and isn’t really a canopy walk.

This bridge has an important use. And it gets used a lot. It didn’t have to be so good.

Whoever designed it chose to paint it a mint green color — a bold choice when everything else in this town leans on Alden Dow’s bright primary color palette. The angles of the handrail give it flair.

It curves through a wetland valley with the creek-drain crossed by many of the other pedestrian bridges of Midland. The industrial detritus around it somehow adds extra charm.

The elevation of the bridge opens the sky up to walkers who are often rewarded with the sight of soaring birds. I’ve seen more hawks here than anywhere else in town, including nearby Hawkville. (My nickname for the Valley Drive neighborhood.) Mourning doves perch on the lonesome dead tree. Red winged blackbirds scream at pedestrians in the springtime.

Repeat visitors will note that the wooden plank flooring is a dusty gray during normal conditions, but turns a deep woody red when it gets wet.

It would get higher rankings but for one shortcoming. The wood planks are substituted for metal grates over St. Andrews. I hate the grate. It feels too flimsy. Look down, make your stomach feel bad. Weird how that works.

Otherwise, top tier bridge that is well loved and well used.

Midland is a nice enough place that even the small, easily-jumped barricade provides sufficient deterrent.

People can’t use this bridge to get anywhere except the bridge. It’s a worthwhile walk.

It feels taller than it needs to be, and that is a nice feature. It has a gentle slope up to the observation deck so people can see the wildflowers and forest below. It also passes over the creek-drain. It has the same weird artistic orange-poles-through-rock-slabs featured in the main canopy walk.

Its supports are burnt red, not the bright red of Midland. One side of rails is a thick wooden fence.

For something that shouldn’t exist, I am glad that it does. It’s a neat little addition. It’s probably not going to draw everyone that comes to Whiting Forest, but the people that it attracts get a reward. Even if they have to turn around. Sorry, you’ll have to get to the library some other way.

It’s a different bridge than the rest, and it fits into the modern features of the gardens.

It gets high traffic, too, being part of the main path in the gardens. Lots of people get the chance to enjoy this bridge.

It gets a high ranking for its uniqueness. The only ones higher are the better signature bridges, even though many people may only give it passing notice on their way through the gardens.

The wood deck is replaced with smooth concrete. The wood rails are now black metal fence. They resisted the urge to go with the bright Midland red. All of the scrub has been taken out and new walkways and benches and even a porch swing has been introduced. This makes it easier to show off the heavily built steel bridge structure and the Old West font announcing that it is part of the Pere-Marquette Rail Trail.

The cleanup opens the view of the Tittabawassee river. It also replaces what used to be there: the moldering remnants of the Industrial Revolution. New metal and polish replaces the rusted bits that used to dot the river banks.

Isn’t it nice when people spend so much to make your life just a little bit better off?

It gets to keep its rank at #6. A drab and plucky bridge gets some glitz and this whole section of the rail trail upgrades from industrial and neglected to modern and friendly.

It’s easy to see why. The steps up and down allow everyone to be in the shot. The bright red steel and straight lines let everyone know that you’re in Midland. It’s a must for commemorating the time and place.

The decking is red steel outlined concrete. The red outlines add further bright red angles. The concrete enforces its sturdy feel. There are steps and rails down to the base of the bridge, too.

Bright red and right angles feature in a lot of bridges at Dow Gardens. This is the best example.

Enjoy its reflection. The red pops against the blue sky and green verge.

During summer, look down to find that the pool is clear where the sun pops through the forest. With enough luck, you’ll see hundreds of tadpoles swimming up to surface and then descend. You’ll also find dragonflies, swallows and the rest of the marsh fauna here.

The trees turn red and gold in the fall, and the bridge allows you to get close to their reflection in the pool.

Bright white snow surrounds and caps the covered bridge in winter.

It’s a fine enough bridge. Just a little too steeped in competition, and often goose poop, to rank too highly on the list.

If you’re thinking of Dow Gardens, you’re probably thinking of this bridge or getting it confused with the Prom Photo Bridge.

Why is that? I guess because it stands out. The bridge contrasts its bright red against the blue pond and the green grass, brush, and trees.

An article of some basic photography tips told me that lines are powerful. Moreso when they’re this unnaturally bright red. The bridge doubles down on the lines by putting them at right angle intersections.

It gets a high ranking, even if it’s not as good as the Prom Photo Bridge. It is better than the others that draw from the style.

That’s why these bridges rank so high. It’s a neat spot. The bridges get into the thick of things and there are so many things to see. Thank you, Chippewa Nature Center, and its small additions of pedestrian bridges.

The creek is shallow and always dirty.

It’s at a spot where few people would use it. It leads from one parking lot to the river walk. But the river walk is adjacent to the even larger parking lot. The bridge seems to serve only the interests of a small number of people taking a detour off the rail trail through the park before merging back to the rail trail at Dahlia Hill.

Those people will get to enjoy this bridge, and there is enough to enjoy. I like the bright blue bollards at its ends keeping cars out. They contrast with the rust-colored bridge. Others may like the little bend in the creek when looking on one side and the view of the mouth on the other.

It’s longer and wider than the Sugnet sidewalk bridges, and with the same style. It rates higher because of the park, the trees around it, and the sights. The bridge is a little gem that goes underappreciated.

The discs are elsewhere in the gardens, too, and keep up the mid-century modern style. This is the only place where they are used as a bridge. Extra points for a unique use.

Yews and juniper dot the edges of the bridge. Plus, a Remont spruce, according to the tree’s nametag. No flower beds are around. The stream babbles a bit, and that is one of my favorite sounds. The clear running water under the bridge gives a boost to its ranking.

It is a lesser example of the conventional red rail bridge. The structure for the deck also has the bright red steel. The rails keep the right angles, but do away with the breakup in form seen on the other bridges.

Because it’s in a remote area of the gardens, and because the footpaths are so narrow, I don’t think this gets much traffic. The bridge is a small treat for the full completionists of Dow Gardens.

Yes, higher traffic improves a bridge’s ranking. Yet the remoteness of this bridge counters that to make it a special, near-secret place. At least, as much of a secret as you can get in a garden that’s open to the public.

Bumblebees will be there. Every day they’re bumblin’.

Enjoy the apple trees and pink pinecones in the evergreen trees on one side of the bridge.

Whiting Forest has some sights to see. This may be one of the lesser recognized features, but that’s where some of the forest’s magic can be felt. The small treats that can be overlooked on the way elsewhere make the journey more sumptuous.

Middle tier. But the kind of middle tier you want.

Those who do will be rewarded with this stout pathway that juts through the swamp. Or at least, it used to be a swamp. The summer of 2023 was too dry to make this area a proper swamp.

It takes its walkers through scaled mushroom stumps, a patch of goldenrod, and tall white pines. Make sure to look up at the sunlight passing through the tips of the evergreens.

The bridge isn’t spectacular. It doesn’t need to be. You’re supposed to be enjoying the views around it, and those sights are worthwhile for the few people who venture back.

I’ve never spent much time in either place, but I’ve walked by a number of times. I almost forget these bridges existed. It’s a well-traveled spot.

Songbirds are often darting around the grow over the ditches. The tall white pines and buildings give people some sights.

The city was a lumbering town then an industrial center. That history makes it different from a lot of the other communities in Michigan that have a distinct ethnic and religious heritage. Yet the people have kept pieces of its history, and the buildings of its early leaders did in remarkable shape. So while the bridges themselves are even less appealing than the curved bridges on Sugnet, they rank higher simply for its function in assisting historical-minded citizens move about.

Mushroom Forest doesn’t get as much traffic as the other spots of the nature center. The forest provides a good view of the river in a couple of spots. The rest of it is mostly tall trees. And a small swamp with this single file bridge allowing hikers to get across without getting wet.

It’s a wood frame, wood deck bridge with no rails. It looks like it was rebuilt or at least redecked recently. Note the mushrooms growing alongside the stumps.

The bridge gives its walkers a good view of the pines, maples, birches and other trees I couldn’t identify. The diversity of trees gives it a little edge on the Whiting Forest zig zag swamp bridge, but falls behind it solely because it’s not as nice of a bridge. It is a stout bridge to help people out on their quiet walks through Mushroom Forest.

Let me digress on the red rails. An element does not become distinctive because of its most acclaimed use. That’s its use in the Prom Photo Bridge elsewhere in the garden. A feature becomes distinctive because of its perfunctory use, like we see here. “We need a pedestrian bridge here. Obviously, we’re going to use bright red and right angles for the railing.”

In this way, the bridge gets extra points not for any unique contribution it makes, but because it reinforces an architectural element. Repeated use makes a style, and this reinforces Midland’s style; moreso than the more popular examples. It’s the small things that establish place. This bridge seems like it was here long before the Welcome to Midland signs and other instances of red right angles that also enforce the style. (Take note, civic structure people, placemaking requires time and organic establishment.)

Save for its bubbler, the pond it crosses is stagnant. The water gets overrun with duckweed in the hot months. Tall white pines provide plenty of shade.

It gets a medium ranking. It’s nice, but there are nicer bridges. It’s got a pleasant view, and I’m glad that there are instances like this.

Indeed, it would be bland to have everything be a variant on the theme.

Evergreens surround it, giving it color even in the grayest parts of winter. When not overrun with duckweed, the trees make an excellent reflection the rest of the year.

It’s a medium bridge. Enough mediums add up to something, and this brings something different to the town.

Look, the Children’s Garden is a great addition. It’s colorful. And peaceful. I had a lovely time hiding from the rain there this summer. It is strewn with evidence that kids are using it and enjoying it.

The children’s garden is a mini-display of the nice things in Dow Gardens. It’s got well-manicured flower beds. It’s got rounded concrete paths. Vibrant primary colors. And, of course, a small pedestrian bridge over a pond.

It’s one of the newer ones in the Dow Gardens style. So the red pops and the right angles strike. The pond is pretty, and the bridge is solid. People can have a good time here.

It remains on the low end of this ranking. Getting rid of a better playground doesn’t make this bridge any better.

It is a sight. We came at fall and, my, what a fall day it was. The leaves were bright yellow in front of the bright blue sky. Crisp leaves were strewn across the deck. Sun beamed into the pond.

Nothing fancy and lower tier but a nice little addition to the Midland pedestrian bridge collection.

One time I was walking around the forest in winter, and I heard some bells behind me. I got passed by a bearded man riding a horse and his happy dog tailing along behind him. That’s cool. They all looked like they were having a grand time.

Both upstream and downstream of the bridge is littered with fallen trees. I can’t imagine how many mosquitos are hatched in it each year, and the forest is generally pretty buggy most of the time.

The bridge is a little different from the others in town in construction and purpose. It’d rank higher with a little more pizazz. Its sturdiness is significant, and its surroundings give it a little extra push on this list.

The curve, lines and steel give it class and zazz.

I can see no other reason for it, other that its engineer wanted to give residents a treat. Just a little extra oomph to show that this is a nice town that you should enjoy.

Maybe that city official would be a little irked by the wild grape invading one of the bridges.

Look upstream through the weeds and see mallards swimming in the shade, as I did when I first noted its existence on a walk through new neighborhoods.

Bits of broken concrete line the drain at points, like there are on the Tittabawassee river, and there’s something striking about it. I don’t know enough about drains to know whether it continues to serve a function in disrepair. Like a rusty chain link fence, it reminds me that the old industrial heritage of the town, and the state, are still with us.

It’s not top tier. There are too many more interesting bridges through more interesting vistas around town. But that it exists at all demonstrates that Midland loves its pedestrian bridges and wants you to enjoy them, too.

The bridge seems like a relic from 50 years ago or more. That gives it character as it serves its practical purpose. Hard metals and hard wood. I don’t think they’d make them with planks like this these days. Things were more solid back then.

You can barely see the creek-drain because its banks are so overgrown. While the town does a lot to make this little river pop further downstream, that’s not the case here. It just serves its purpose of transferring water down into the river. The people living with it in their backyards don’t seem to care much that it’s there, and might even resent it a little during flooding times.

It’s a quiet spot that will give people a better route when they know it’s there. The bridge will let people enjoy the rocky creek-drain. It can’t get a high ranking because it’s rarely used and otherwise unremarkable. But Midland loves its pedestrian bridges and will keep them up and running.

The bridges are drab for Midland. One gets a boost for some curved railing. Functional. Nothing fancy. They’re both a little run down. Passersby might feel a little awkward, because even using the public paths to the bridges feels like you’re walking in someone’s backyard.

They’re meant to give people in those neighborhoods access to the park, where there is some playground equipment and a small hill. The park itself is bereft of trees, so I guess people get a little more sky.

It can’t get a high ranking because so few people will use it, and it’s not very nice. But a nice perk for the neighborhood.

Why the hate?

I don’t like golf clubs. They offend my delicate sense of class.

Sure, I’ve enjoyed the golf club on rare occasions as a guest. Yes, it’s fine that people can join together to make something nice for themselves and their friends, to enjoy each other’s company, let the kids swim in the pool, and play a couple of rounds on a well-maintained course.

But the enterprise is meant to separate. We’re Americans, dammit, and there being a place only for the wealthy doesn’t sit right. So no, I’m not a member.

Even the look of the bridges tells me that these are meant for Us Members, and not for me. “We’ve got something nice going on here, so pony up for ridiculous membership fees if you want to enjoy them.” (The fees are unstated on their web site.)

They even gentrified the creek-drain that flows through the course and lined it with stone.

Low tier trash for people who pay for the remaining marks of exclusionary class.

Who was the last child to wander over it? What contrivance of iron and rubber lured their crossing? Maybe the open field with a small hill was all that was necessary to summon the unsupervised neighborhood kids after school.

A renegade father may brave the world of gray market public works to rebuild one day.

Until then, its remnants can be viewed at Sunset Park. Other bridges are available for children looking for ingress to this park.

An informational video from the city tells me that the frames are made from the old metal street signs overhanging main street that were taken down during a streetscape project. And the deck is made out of the old Tridge. That’s neat.

The views from the bridge are kind of neat. You don’t get much topography in flat Midland, so that’s a good change of pace. A combination swamp from the drain, plus hills with trees. I hope the mountain bikers get a chance to appreciate it on their runs.