"On my bridge, I decide what I like," the devil said. He dangled scaly ankles over the edge of an open platform he’d built of pine under the very center of his bridge, Devil’s Bridge. The platform extended several feet beyond the bridge's edge. To move from bridge to platform, the devil hopped down to the platform's edge. To ascend, he hooked a claw on the bridge and hauled himself up—though only at night so the sun did not hurt his delicate eyes.