When I was a wee tot, my Dad used to take me to wade across the river by the old Interurban Bridge and Roche de Boeuf in Waterville. We would keep our old tennis shoes to wear when we went to the river, and we’d almost always get Mr. Freeze on the way home. Fun times.
He has a print in his house of the bridge, because it reminds him of when we used to do that. He’s a sap.
Brian and I went to Farnsworth a few weeks ago so he could take some pictures of the bridge with his fancy camera. I took some with my normal-person camera that I liked, even though they were taken with gimmicky settings:
Does anyone know why all the signage says “Roche de Bout” now? What happened to the F?