Why the Madison County Bridges Still Draw a Crowd

Why the Madison County Bridges Still Draw a Crowd

You’ve probably seen the movie. Or maybe you read the Robert James Waller novel back in the nineties and cried into a bowl of popcorn. But honestly, the real story of the bridges in Madison County isn't about a fleeting fictional romance between a photographer and a housewife. It’s about wood, grit, and a specific kind of Iowa stubbornness that kept these structures standing when the rest of the world was moving on to steel and concrete.

Winterset is quiet. It’s the kind of place where the air smells like harvest and the gravel crunches under your tires in a rhythmic, predictable way. When you drive out to see these covered bridges, you aren't just looking at "pretty red barns over water." You’re looking at 19th-century engineering designed to solve a very annoying problem: rot. Back then, bridge floors were expensive to replace. Covering them was basically just a way to keep the timber dry so the county wouldn't go broke fixing them every five years. It worked.

Today, only six of the original nineteen bridges remain. They are survivors.

The Roseman Bridge and the Legend of the Jailbreak

If you only have time for one stop, it’s usually Roseman. Built in 1883 by Benton Jones, this 107-foot span is the big one. It’s the "haunted" one. Local lore says a county prisoner escaped his pursuers by jumping right through the roof of the bridge and vanishing into thin air. While that’s almost certainly a tall tale, the bridge itself is very real and remarkably sturdy.

Roseman is a quintessential example of the Town lattice truss. It’s a design patented by Ithiel Town back in 1820. Instead of heavy beams, it uses a web of lighter planks pinned together with "trunnels"—literally tree nails. It’s incredibly strong. You can walk inside and see the crisscross pattern of the wood. It feels like being inside the ribcage of a giant wooden whale.

The light hits the floorboards in these weird, slanted slivers. It’s moody. Even if you don't care about the Clint Eastwood film, you can't deny the atmosphere. It’s heavy with history.

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Hogback, Holliwell, and the Rest of the Pack

Most people don't realize how different these structures actually are once you get close. Take the Hogback Bridge. It’s named after a nearby limestone ridge, and it sits in a valley that feels completely isolated from the modern world. It was built in 1884. It still has its original signs warning travelers that there's a "five-dollar fine for riding or driving a horse or any other animal faster than a walk" across the bridge.

Five dollars was a lot of money in 1884.

Then there’s Holliwell. At 122 feet, it’s the longest of the bridges in Madison County. It curves. Not the bridge itself, but the timber inside follows a natural bow that makes it feel more organic than the others. It spans the Middle River and looks best in the fall when the Iowa maples turn that violent shade of orange.

  • Cutler-Donahoe: This one isn't in its original spot. They moved it to the Winterset City Park in 1970 to protect it. It’s the easiest one to see if you’re short on time.
  • Imes Bridge: The oldest survivor, dating back to 1870. It’s been moved twice. It currently sits near St. Charles and acts as a sort of gateway to the county.
  • Cedar Bridge: This is the heartbreaking one. It was destroyed by arson in 2002, rebuilt, and then burned again in 2017. The one you see now is a replica finished in 2019. It’s beautiful, but the locals will tell you it doesn't smell the same as the old wood.

Why We Keep Rebuilding Them

Why bother? It costs a fortune to maintain these things. Fire is a constant threat. Arsonists, for some inexplicable reason, love targeting these landmarks. But Madison County keeps putting them back together.

It’s about identity.

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These bridges represent a transition period in American history. They sit at the intersection of the pioneer era and the industrial revolution. When you stand on the creaking boards of the Roseman or the Hogback, you’re feeling the same vibrations that farmers felt a century ago while hauling grain. That connection to the past is rare. In a world of glass and steel, these red wooden tunnels are an anomaly. They shouldn't be here, yet they are.

If you're planning a trip, don't trust your GPS blindly. Some of these bridges are down "Level B" roads. In Iowa, that’s code for "dirt path that turns into a swamp the second it rains." If it’s been pouring, stay on the pavement or bring a vehicle with four-wheel drive.

The Madison County Chamber of Commerce provides maps, and you should use them. Cell service drops out in the dips near the riverbeds. It’s part of the charm, honestly. You’re forced to actually look at the landscape instead of a screen.

The best time to visit? Late September or early October. The Madison County Covered Bridge Festival happens every October, and while the crowds are bigger, the energy is great. There’s local honey, handmade crafts, and enough pie to make you regret your life choices. If you hate crowds, go on a Tuesday in May. The red wood against the bright green Iowa spring is a hell of a sight.

Common Misconceptions and Local Truths

People think these bridges were covered to hide couples during dates. "Kissing bridges," they called them. While that definitely happened, the real reason was purely boring and fiscal. Wood rots. Roofs protect wood. It’s that simple.

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Another myth is that they are all original. As mentioned with the Cedar Bridge, several have been painstakingly reconstructed. The craftsmanship is top-tier, using traditional methods where possible, but the "soul" of the wood varies. Some people claim they can tell the difference in the way the wind whistles through the gaps. Maybe they can.

How to Respect the Sites

These aren't just photo ops; they are fragile historical artifacts.

  1. No Graffiti. It seems obvious, but the bridges are covered in "carved" names. Don't be that person. It damages the protective sealant on the wood.
  2. Watch the Weight. Most of these are closed to vehicle traffic now. Stick to walking.
  3. Support Local. Stop in Winterset. Buy a coffee. Visit the John Wayne Birthplace Museum while you're there. The revenue from tourism is what keeps the maintenance funds for the bridges alive.

The Actionable Plan for Your Visit

If you want to do the bridges in Madison County the right way, start your morning at the Winterset North Park to see the Cutler-Donahoe. It’s a low-stakes "warm-up" bridge. From there, head southwest toward Roseman. This is the heavy hitter, so give it time.

After Roseman, loop back toward Hogback. It’s the most "authentic" feeling because of its tucked-away location. Finish your loop at Holliwell before heading back into town for dinner.

Skip the gift shop trinkets and instead spend twenty minutes just sitting inside one of the spans. Listen to the way the timber groans. It’s a living piece of Iowa history that survived the elements, the arsonists, and the march of time. It deserves more than a quick Instagram post.

Grab a physical map from the welcome center at 73 Jefferson Street in Winterset. Check the weather forecast specifically for Madison County, as Iowa storms can wash out the bridge access roads in minutes. Pack a pair of boots you don't mind getting muddy. The walk from the parking areas to the bridge portals can be messy, but the view from the riverbank is always better than the view from the road.