I've always found The Pulaski Skyway to be one of the most under appreciated architectural and infrastructural marvels in the state of New Jersey. Despite being opened for vehicular traffic way back on November 24, 1932, structurally, this colossal steel deck truss cantilever bridge span hasn't changed all that much over the course of its nearly one hundred year existence, sans some paint jobs and road deck rehabilitation projects. In recent times however, the skyway has become more of an outdated traffic nightmare due to its narrow driving lanes designed for the slower and clunkier vehicles from decades past. It's also the only bridge I know of that sports an on ramp which dumps automobiles directly into a center lane of traffic; an absolutely bizarre and nearly suicidal method of merging onto a bridge.
Yet, despite its antiquated quirks, the Skyway still serves out its functional purpose of existing as a major transportation linkage between the cities of Newark and Jersey City, NJ. While driving across the Skyway, motorists are given the illusion of seemingly floating above toxic EPA superfund sites and the desolate meadowlands swamps glistening with oil sheen rainbows below. I often wonder how many of these thousands of daily drivers are aware of the Skyway's functionally obsolete design, which constantly rates the causeway in the top ten most unreliable roadways in the United States.
Now, if these same drivers spotted a look from beneath the bridge, they may soon decide never to drive across again. Ominous cracks and concerning fissures decorate the dozens of bulky cement piers anchoring the floating causeway back down to Planet Earth. Portions of the steel cantilever structure rot like decaying teeth, as structural joints are held together merely by decades of layers of lead paint; no need to worry however for NJDOT will be by any day soon to apply a layer of shiny new lipstick. Perhaps this is why I feel The Pulaski Skyway is best safely admired from afar, for upon driving across this causeway, it is in God one really must truss.
On the contrary, countless psychogeography opportunities present themselves while wandering around the numerous city's framing this beautiful steel spectacle. From a distance, I like to imagine the Pulaski Skyway as a futuristic reptilian swamp creature rising up above the Jersey quagmire and slowly snaking its way across the mighty Passaic and Hackensack Rivers. The rusted out steel trusses even form triangular geometric patterns which remind me of a scaly serpent, further cementing elements of cold-blooded personification. I'd argue I'm not alone with this beastly imagery, as Orson Welles so cleverly depicted Martian machines spanning the Skyway within the 1938 radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds. As captured above, my eye was inspired by the heavily industrialized banks of the Hackensack River span of the Skyway as it magically hovers over Port Kearny, the concrete road deck above funneling vehicles toward the Passaic River crossing, before a final dumping off in Newark, NJ.
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