The I-35W bridge collapse has made it a dark time to talk about transportation, but even with all the loss and sadness of the past several weeks, some lighter moments have popped up.

One of the first people to get Roadguy to crack a smile was an alert reader named KAJ. Upon learning that little old Hwy. 280 was going to be the recommended detour for 140,000 vehicles a day, KAJ offered this apt description:

"I grew up next to 280 and, in my driver's-ed days, learned how to merge by dealing with its utter lack of merge lanes, and I have some nostalgic affection for it. But it really is sort of like Playskool's My First Hiway."

(Fortunately, the road got some upgrades in August, so it feels a little less like something a kid built.)

Then there was Mike Martin of the Minneapolis Police Department, a friendly guy who brought his special way with verbiage to news conferences about the bridge collapse.

At one point, he found himself trying to explain that a certain van was sitting on an incline on the northern portion of the bridge's southbound lanes. He finally clarified the vehicle's location by using a landmark visible in innumerable news photos: "It's the one that's right next to the porta-potty."

Martin's a smart guy -- he got himself promoted from captain to inspector just last month. But even as he rose through the police ranks, he revealed to reporters that he wasn't up to speed on certain naval ranks:

"I mentioned that someone was doing a yeoman's task the other day, and a guy from the Navy said, 'If you need some more yeomen, we can get 'em.' ... I didn't even know that that was what that meant. I had to ask the Navy people about it."

(Minnesota is in the middle of a continent -- how would we know that a Navy yeoman is a type of petty officer?)

Finally, there was the spirit shown by Julie Graves, who was injured while riding in the school bus that ended up on the bridge. She broke her right ankle, a bone in each foot and two bones in her lower back, and she and her fiancé, Brendan Kelly, described the chunk of flesh missing from her right arm as a golf-ball-size divot.

Despite the pain, Julie did her best to stay upbeat, eschewing the usual medical terminology when she described the health goal she wanted to reach before her now-postponed wedding: "danceable condition."

If a crash victim with a steel plate in her foot can crack jokes, brighter days must be ahead.

In other news ...

Last week's column on taking the bus to the State Fair mentioned that the giant free park-and-ride area at the University of Minnesota was not available this year. Information put out by Metro Transit had warned of "limited parking due to stadium construction."

But a few alert readers disagreed. One even left a voicemail saying he was sure that "several hundred people" had called Roadguy about the matter. Only three people actually called (two if only cheerful callers are counted), but Roadguy checked with the fair folks.

It turns out that, at certain times, there were almost as many free spaces available at the U this year as when the nearly 4,000-space Huron Boulevard complex was still intact.

The complicating factors, according to Steve Grans, transportation manager for the fair, were: Some spaces weren't open before 4 p.m., one 800-space ramp wasn't available over Labor Day weekend, the parking areas weren't all in one easy-to-see location like they used to be, and road construction kept many people away.

The parking complex won't be back, but with work on some surface lots complete and road work done, taking the free shuttles from the U "should be easier next year," he said.