Lin Chih-mu is a rather ordinary-sounding name, yet one that is unfamiliar to most. Few people indeed are aware that he was personally responsible for building such famous local suspension bridges as those at Lushan, Paling, Four Seasons Mountain, Wulai, Wutoushan Reservoir, Taroko Gorge and Chulu, Taitung. For forty years come rain or shine he has diligently forged his way up mountainsides and over rivers, working on the construction of some 600 bridges in all. He also undertakes repair and maintenance work on Taiwan's aging suspension bridges all over the island, although he very rarely leaves his name recorded on the plaque set for the purpose at the head of each bridge. In the truest sense, he is an anonymous hero.

Lin estimates that a 150-meter suspension bridge would normally require three or four months to build using a gang of ten engineers. It would cost in the region of NT$4 million, whereas the cost of a concrete bridge of similar length at around NT$40 million would be over 10 times as much.

More funding has been available for public works projects in recent years, while demand for improved communications links has steadily risen. Consequently the humble suspension bridge has become a vanishing species as these are replaced by concrete bridges wherever possible in order to provide maximum capacity for vehicular traffic.

Economic considerations apart, suspension bridges are not only visually more attractive than their concrete counterparts, they are an invaluable tourism asset in that their gentle swaying motion makes it a thrill for people just to step across them. Fortunately Lin Chih-mu has been invited to erect suspension bridges at numerous scenic recreation parks, thus lending a new lease of life to an evocative sight that today is becoming ever more of a rarity.

Of all the suspension bridges he has erected, the one he remembers with most pleasure is the 340-meter Pingling Bridge at his hometown of Tsaotun. "That bridge was built in 1949, and it was the first one I ever put up completely under my own steam. Later the town council wanted to replace it with a concrete bridge but the local people fiercely opposed the idea, so now it has become a local 'museum piece'."

Another important achievement of Lin's is the suspension bridge at Paling on Taiwan's northern cross-island highway. This took a year to build at a cost of $20 million in 1959 Taiwan currency, and is one of the biggest suspension bridges in terms of load capacity. "It was built with military needs in mind and is capable of accommodating two or three army tanks at one time. Former President Chiang Kai-shek would visit the project each week. He summoned me before him once, and I was so tensed up I couldn't utter a word!"

At 61, Lin Chih-mu is bilingual in Taiwanese and Japanese and speaks passable Mandarin Chinese too. "I had a Japanese-style education in Taiwan, and at 13 qualified to study at a high school in Osaka. Just as I planned to travel to Japan the atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the whole world was transformed," recalls Lin.

With his dream of studying in Japan gone up in smoke, Lin decided to stay in Taiwan and help out on the family farm. He worked in agriculture to start with, then at 18 joined a civil engineering course. Within two years he was studying suspension bridge construction techniques under Huang Shih-ying and Lin Wan-k'o, and two years later launched off into his own independent career overseeing bridge-building projects all over Taiwan. He little thought at the time it would keep him busy for the next 40 years.

During the construction phase of a project all the bridge engineers live together and eat together, dining off easy to carry and durable tin plates. Keen on chewing betel nuts, though not a smoker or drinker, Lin quips: "Sometimes my missus would come and do the cooking for us, but the rest of the time I just had to look after myself!" Putting up suspension bridges is not an easy life, and there is considerable danger to be reckoned with too.

First, Lin explains, you have to select a good site where the rock is stable and not likely to crumble. Then one of the engineers who is a good swimmer carries a rope across to the opposite bank to set up a pulley basket for ferrying across equipment and personnel. If this cannot be done, you have to hack a pathway up the mountainside instead.

"On Lishan, it took me three days just to discover a viable pathway when I was working on the Taoyuan and Chia-yang bridges," Lin says. What he found most disconcerting was having to spend three nights all alone up in the mountains keeping watch over the supplies. The waving shadows of the trees and the strange noises, he admits, almost panicked him into making a run for it.

Erecting the bridge cables is a time when the engineer's skills as an acrobat are put to the test.

Building suspension bridges requires you to work high up off the ground and demands both courage and great care. Once your sense of balance falters, danger lurks on every side. You may even tumble down into the ravine below and lose your life. Lin Chih-mu has lost three colleagues in this way so far.

For better or for worse, judging from the continued demand for suspension bridges in Taiwan and the small number of specialized engineers available, Lin Chih-mu seems in little danger of losing his title of "suspension bridge king."

[Picture Caption]

Suspension bridge engineers work high off the ground, and their job requires considerable courage.

Nowadays younger engineers are reluctant to work in the mountains, so Lin Chih-mu worries who will take on the job after him.

Suspension bridge engineers work high off the ground, and their job requires considerable courage.

Nowadays younger engineers are reluctant to work in the mountains, so Lin Chih-mu worries who will take on the job after him.