Are you looking for a bridge? Iowa has one for you. It’s a 128-foot bowstring-shaped Warren pony truss from 1912. If that’s not your style, you can get a 183-foot trapezoid Pratt through-truss from 1892. Over in Oklahoma, you can find a camelback truss outside Tulsa.
Chances are, your state department of transportation has a few historic bridges it would be happy to turn over to you, provided you take good care of them. In many cases, the bridges are free. You may have to pay for the move but there might be grant money available.
When replacing a bridge, transportation agencies often tear down the old one. But if the bridge is listed or eligible for listing on the National Register of Historic Places, federal law requires they first make an effort to preserve it.
To comply, agencies post their soon-to-be-replaced historic bridges online, hoping to entice somebody to adopt them.
In some cases, these bridges retire to trail networks or golf courses where they spend their golden years hosting pedestrians, cyclists and golf carts. But sometimes, they become the prized possession of a small but devoted band of bridge collectors, who give them pride of place on their property.
The $1 trillion infrastructure spending bill President Biden signed in 2021 has money to replace lots of historic bridges. That should create a buyer’s market.
What kind of person buys a bridge? Somebody like Bruce Saucier.
After buying an old sugar mill in Oaklawn, La., Saucier volunteered to adopt the adjacent bridge over Bayou Teche that had been built around 1942 to serve the mill. One unusual feature of the bridge, a Warren polygonal truss, is the pivot in the middle, which allowed the bridge to swing around like a Lazy-susan, making it possible for boats to pass.
In 2018, crews lifted the 314-foot-long bridge, placed it on rollers and moved it to Saucier’s property, where it now straddles a pond that alligators occasionally waddle into. People driving by sometimes stop to take pictures of the bridge.
“It’s more of a bucket list or passion project to not see it get chopped up and thrown to scrap,” said Saucier, who runs an offshore consulting firm.
Most of the relocated bridges are truss bridges, which have a network of horizontal, vertical and diagonal metal beams on either side. The beams distribute the bridge’s weight and support traffic. Many truss bridges were built in pieces, in a workshop, and assembled on-site, making them easier to take apart and move.
Wooden truss bridges have been around at least since the Italian Renaissance. But metal truss bridges didn’t become widespread until Squire Whipple, an American civil engineer, began building them over the Erie Canal in the 1840s.
Truss bridges were popular in the late 19th and early 20th century because they allowed engineers to build longer, sturdier bridges using relatively little steel, said Adam Matteo, assistant state bridge engineer at the Virginia Department of Transportation.
“They’re part of our heritage and we should be proud of them,” he said. “People love trusses.”
One of those people is Phillip Hart.
In 2011, Hart bought a truss bridge in Cotton County, Okla., from someone who had bought it from the county. He had it moved 16 miles to his yard. Local utility companies had to raise the power lines so it could go down the road.
By his own account, Hart is a sentimental man, with a fondness for local history, which he attributes to his profession as a funeral director. (“I hear all the history of our area from people sitting in my office.”)
He’s also bought an old, closed-down bowling alley, which he fixed up and sold, hoping it would one day reopen.
“My wife told me you can buy anything you want if you sell this bowling alley,” he said. “I bought me a bridge.”
Moving bridges isn’t a new sport. In 1968, an American businessman bought London Bridge, broke it into granite blocks and shipped them through the Panama Canal to Lake Havasu City, Ariz., where the reconstructed bridge has become a tourist attraction. (London built itself another one.)
Steve Havemann is attempting something only slightly less ambitious.
After a career as an ironworker in New York, Havemann retired to Silver City, Nev., where he is building a house. But he needed to find a way to cross a ravine separating his homesite from the road.
He went online and found Missouri had a couple of 60-foot pony truss bridges from 1922 available free that would suit his purpose. A few months of paperwork later, the bridges were his. One will go to his house, the other will cross a different ravine connecting other houses he plans to build.
He intends to drive his flatbed trailer to Missouri next year to pick the bridges up.
“I’m all about serendipity and the universe,” Havemann said. “Most of life just happens. You have to recognize a good deal when it comes your way.”
If you’d like to adopt a bridge, best tell your spouse first.
“The first I knew was when Cousin Gene was bringing his lowboy and they were going to get the bridge,” recalled Kay Hoflander of the time 25 years or so ago her husband, Harold, brought two bridges home from the Ozarks.
The plan was to place one over a creek to get to a house they wanted to build in Higginsville, Mo., but the city nixed the idea because it couldn’t support a firetruck.
So the bridges stayed in their yard. Foxes used them to sunbathe.
“I tried and tried to get rid of them by running ads,” said Kay Hoflander. “I tried ag magazines, all kinds of things. Nobody wanted the bridge.”
Eventually they sold one and moved the other out of sight. “Kind of a letdown at the time but we got through it,” said Harold.
“It’s been a running joke for some time,” said Kay.
For the true bridge lover, look no further than the Calcasieu River Bridge in Lake Charles, La.
In February, Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg announced a $150 million grant from the infrastructure law to replace the 72-year-old bridge, which carries Interstate 10 over the Calcasieu River.
But the bridge is eligible for listing on the National Register of Historic Places, which means Louisiana has to first look for somebody to adopt it.
If you’re interested, call the Louisiana Department of Transportation and Development. The bidding period is past, but they might still entertain an offer before scrapping it. Just make sure you have enough room. The bridge measures 68.5 feet by 6,607 feet, long enough to land a Boeing 737.
Write to David Harrison at david.harrison@wsj.com