For the first time in years, I walked under the Bathurst Street Bridge. This is the old iron bridge that goes over the rail lands south of Front Street. Now, a chain-link fence blocks access, but there’s a gaping hole in it that looks to me like an invitation.
While development around the bridge is rampant, the bridge itself remains unchanged, almost timeless.
There’s still the graffiti, the makeshift shelters, the firepits, the pallets that serve as beds.
For now, at least, it stands as a monument to gritty industrial Toronto while sleek corporate/commercial Toronto looks on. Given its proximity to old Fort York, maybe it should be turned into a museum.