The Lime Valley Covered Bridge or Strasburg Bridge is a covered bridge that spans Pequea Creek in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, United States. A county-owned and maintained bridge, its official designation is the Pequea #8 Bridge.
The bridge has a single span, wooden, double Burr arch trusses design with the addition of steel hanger rods. The deck is made from oak planks. It is painted red, the traditional color of Lancaster County covered bridges, on both the inside and outside. Both approaches to the bridge are painted in the traditional white color.
The bridge's WGCB Number is 38-36-23. Added in 1980, it is listed on the National Register of Historic Places as structure number 80003535. It is located at 39°57′38.4″N 76°14′6″W / 39.960667°N 76.235°W / 39.960667; -76.235 (39.96067, -76.23500). The bridge is close to U.S. Route 222 southeast of Willow Street in West Lampeter Township, Pennsylvania. From 222 the bridge is 0.35 miles (0.56 km) east on Lime Valley Road, 0.3 miles (0.5 km) south on South View Road, and 250 feet (75 m) on Breneman Road.
Read more about Lime Valley Covered Bridge: History, Dimensions, Gallery
Famous quotes containing the words lime, valley, covered and/or bridge:
“Seeing then that truth consisteth in the right ordering of names in our affirmations, a man that seeketh precise truth had need to remember what every name he uses stands for, and to place it accordingly, or else he will find himself entangled in words, as a bird in lime twigs, the more he struggles, the more belimed.”
—Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679)
“To be seventy years old is like climbing the Alps. You reach a snow-crowned summit, and see behind you the deep valley stretching miles and miles away, and before you other summits higher and whiter, which you may have strength to climb, or may not. Then you sit down and meditate and wonder which it will be.”
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)
“The knowledge of an unlearned man is living and luxuriant like a forest, but covered with mosses and lichens and for the most part inaccessible and going to waste; the knowledge of the man of science is like timber collected in yards for public works, which still supports a green sprout here and there, but even this is liable to dry rot.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“I was at work that morning. Someone came riding like mad
Over the bridge and up the road—Farmer Rouf’s little lad.
Bareback he rode; he had no hat; he hardly stopped to say,
“Morgan’s men are coming, Frau, they’re galloping on this way.”
—Constance Fenimore Woolson (1840–1894)