Nobody ever truly gets used to riding on the Henderson Bridge. Ever. It's like merging onto the Interstate on your bicycle. It doesn't feel natural. And yet, somehow, Providence roadies act like it's natural. There are better alternatives to getting over the Seekonk River - but those are in Pawtucket. No East Sider would be caught dead there.
What an ugly behemoth. A failed dream to build a pointless controlled access spur from rt. 195 to rt. 44 through the a portion of East Side and East Providence, from which we have this ghost of insanity.
Riding it seems the equivalent of forcing your bike to have unprotected sex with a prostitute in the middle of a battlefield. Nonetheless, all morals go to hell on the bridge. I've driven it before. You merge on, speed up to 60 mph for an entirety of 10 seconds, and then slow back down to a snails speed on Angell Street. And remember, you'd better pick the correct lane at the end of the bridge - because only one goes somewhere:
I love it.
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