The Lions Gate Bridge, officially known as the First Narrows Bridge, is a suspension bridge that crosses the first narrows of Burrard Inlet and connects the City of Vancouver, British Columbia, to the North Shore municipalities of the District of North Vancouver, the City of North Vancouver, and West Vancouver. The term "Lions Gate" refers to The Lions, a pair of mountain peaks north of Vancouver. Northbound traffic on the bridge heads in their general direction.
The total length of the bridge including the north viaduct is 1,823 metres (5,890 feet). The length including approach spans is 1,517.3 m (4,978 ft), the main span alone is 473 m (1,550 ft), the tower height is 111 m (364 ft), and it has a ship's clearance of 61 m (200 ft). Prospect Point in Stanley Park offered a good high south end to the bridge, but the low flat delta land to the north required construction of the extensive North Viaduct.
The bridge has three reversible lanes, the use of which is indicated by signals. The centre lane changes direction to accommodate for traffic patterns. The traffic volume on the bridge is 60,000 - 70,000 vehicles per day. Trucks exceeding 13 tonnes (14.3 tons) are prohibited, as are vehicles using studded tires. The bridge forms part of Highways 99 and 1A.
On 24 March 2005, the Lions Gate Bridge was designated a National Historic Site of Canada.
Famous quotes containing the words lions, gate and/or bridge:
“King Richard. Lions make leopards tame.
Mowbray. Yea, but not change his spots.”
—William Shakespeare (15641616)
“A young child is no longer simply a child; he or she is a preschooler, poised at the starting gate in the race of life.”
—Neil Kurshan (20th century)
“It launchd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be formd, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O, my soul.”
—Walt Whitman (18191892)