Mile 227.4 - LBD LSU
227.4 LBD LSU
The Louisiana State University(LSU) campus extends to the River here and a large area of the batture is kept mowed into a nice big green space that stays dry until ?? feet BRG. There is a little park on top of the levee with flags that you can see from the river. There are paved stairs and ramps down the land side of the levee leading down to River Road and Skip Bertman Drive. The LSU Veterinary School is the big building just on the other side of River Road and A walk down Skip Bertman Drive will take you right to “Death Valley” the LSU football stadium and onto the LSU campus proper. The field here should make a good camping spot when the river is below ??. (LMRK)
Baton Rouge Gage (BG)
http://www.srh.noaa.gov/lmrfc/?n=lmrfc-mississippiandohioriverforecast
Water levels according to the Baton Rouge Gage (BG)
Low Water = 0 to 12 BG
Medium Water = 12 to 22 BG
High Water = 22 to 35 BG
Bank Full = 30 BG
Flood Stage = 35 BG and above
(BG = Baton Rouge Gage)
Flood Stage Warning: above 35BG paddlers are advised to stay off the river. Limited access. Most landings and approach roads will be underwater. Most islands will be gone. No easy camping. All sandbars will be covered. Fast waters with many hazards. All islands and landings will be surrounded by flooded forests full of snags, strainers, sawyers and all other dangerous conditions associated with floodwater moving through trees. Docks, wharves, dikes and any other man-made objects will create strong whirlpools, violent boils, and fast eddies. Towboats will create large waves. The Rivergator will not describe the river and its islands at any levels above flood stage.
Leaving Baton Rouge and heading downstream
If you’ve gotten this far, to the port of Baton Rouge, congratulations, you’re doing good! Now you’re ready to continue on downstream into the most extreme concentration of riverside industry outside of the German Ruhr on the Rhine. Keep it up, whatever you’re doing. Exercise caution in all grey areas, stay on shore when uncertain, and employ sailor’s sixth sense.
Welcome to SOLA (South Louisiana)!
Paddling downriver from Baton Rouge you are leaving the last of the truly high ground on the Mississippi River. Historically, most of the land below Baton Rouge would be covered and nurtured by the annual flood waters of the Mississippi River. If viewed from upriver, this is the beginning of the end. The land here appears to be leveling out, sinking, melting away, and it is(another complicated and fascinating story we’ll get to later, downriver). But geologically this land was growing. It is the youngest land of all the Mississippi river basin; laid hear annually by the Father of Waters. That was until man flexed his engineering muscle and chose to end a cycle that had flourished for millennia. After the Great Flood of 1927 and the Federal Flood Control Act, the Mighty Mississippi was tamed, confined within tall levees, ending the very process that created and sustained the land that lies on the other side. Here, this unnatural intrusion begins to come clear as you float the serpentine moat of Louisiana’s Petrochemical castle.
South Louisiana’s history is long and fascinating. The artery of its birth, triumphs and tragedies is of course the Mississippi River. From inside the levees paddlers are able to view this curious place from a vantage point few ever have the opportunity to see. Yet, Louisiana was first seen from the Mississippi's waters. SoLA was explored, founded and settled along the banks of the mightiest of rivers. But from the beginning the treachery of this place was clear. The original settlement of the French explorers that eventually founded New Orleans barely lasted through the first high-water season. And so began mans quest to live in harmony, or perhaps in conquest of the Mighty Mississippi. Levees became a necessity of survival and have been growing ever since.
The Mississippi is the reason SoLA (Baton Rouge, New Orleans,etc.) exists, and still sustains it, though altered as it may be. As with all things, there are trade offs. To protect communities, like New Orleans and Baton Rouge, SoLA confined the ever shifting Mississippi. Essentially cutting the arms and legs from the heart; leaving them to starve for lack of the life giving blood the river once provided. But, as intended, the communities that inhabited the floodplain of the river have been saved from the seasonal flooding and perpetual meandering of the water. SoLA was saved from being washed away, or so it was thought. Here in the industrial corridor vast agricultural plantations gave way to sprawling industrial facilities. Both of which located here because of the Mighty Mississippi. Slaves that once inhabited these plantations often settled communities adjacent to the land they had once worked following their emancipation. As SoLA’s industries evolved, these communities along the banks of the river, at the edge of these historic properties, found themselves on the fence line of a new generation of plantation. Communities up and down the river, once at home in vast fields of sugarcane and lush landscapes became neighbors with oil refineries and chemical manufacturers, confined by an ever constricting infrastructure of rail cars and pipelines carrying the new commodities of SoLA. Commodities that might make your eyes burn, your throat tighten and lungs gasp for breath.
Having tamed the natural flooding of the Mississippi, SoLA began displacing its historic river dwelling communities with a new danger: “Industrial Progress.” Sadly, this conflict, and dismantling of home has played out for decades throughout SoLA. Some of these stories are mentioned elsewhere in the Rivergator (see ExxonMobil and Sunrise) as you travel downriver.
Downstream, as you reach the terminus of the Mississippi River you will witness another story of displacement. The imprisonment of the Mississippi (as well as other factors we’ll discuss later) has led to the most rapid rate of land-loss seen anywhere on the planet. There in the real delta of the Mississippi, another type of flood is consuming communities, directly as a result of man’s effort to prevent that very thing. Call it a curse of SoLA’s past indiscretions or a lesson from Mother Earth about the control of nature; the Mississippi River takes what it wants, despite the will of man.
Baton Rouge to New Orleans to Venice
The last 225 miles of the Lower Mississippi River is also the most dangerous and most demanding. Warning: for expert paddlers only. The fecund wilderness of the sprawling Mississippi River floodplain disappears above Baton Rouge and is replaced by a chaotic global shipping lane. You will have to paddle several hundred miles of choppy crowded water sharing the main channel with sea-going freighters, cargo boats, re-supply vessels, and endless fields of barges as they fleet up for the long distance journey back up the river. Commonly known as Chemical Corridor, but also described as “Cancer Alley.” Paddlers might want to add an oxygen face mask to their equipment list here and maybe a haz mat suit. Seriously. You will be camping next to refineries and chemical plants, and lots of coal-fired power plants. More toxins are dumped in the river here than any other piece of river in America. No more remote camping, no more swimming, no more quiet sections of river teeming with wildlife. This is a section of the Mississippi you paddle just to get through it. Some highlights include a possible pull-out for fresh chickory coffee and powder-sugar dusted beignets at the Moonwalk in Jackson Square (mile 95). While you’re at it, resupply with Po-Boys and fresh fruit & veggies in the French Market. And then head on downstream towards Venice, the Head of Passes, where the Mighty Mississippi splits into a maze of channels through the birdsfoot Mississippi Delta. Paddle down one of the channels to the Gulf and camp with a view towards South America. The next day turn around and paddle back upstream to Venice, or hire a fishing boat for a shuttle.
The Mississippi connects the two big river cities of Louisiana in a lyrical curving passage of heavy industry, commercial traffic, ancient trade routes and colorful history. Put in below the State Capitol in downtown Baton Rouge and embark on this epic journey downstream through proud parishes and storied places like Bayou Manchac, Bayou Lafourche, Saint James, La Place, Audubon Park, and Algiers, passing by old channels that the Mississippi used to follow to the Gulf of Mexico, camping on the very last mid-channel islands on the main stem Mississippi River (Plaquemine & Bayou Goula Towheads), alongside the busiest concentration of graineries & refineries in North America, lots of scrap steel operations and stinky plastics production plants, more strange repulsive smells than you’ll ever paddle through anywhere else in the world, except maybe the German Ruhr, or the Chinese Yangtze. The industrial wasteland is fortunately broken up with views of old catholic church steeples rising razor sharp over the levee, and by architectural wonders in bridges like the Huey P. Long, and the Greater New Orleans Bridge (last Bridge on the Mississippi River). You will paddle along the ancient routes of the great tribes of North America, whose rumored riches were later pursued by Cabeza de Vaca & Hernando DeSoto, little did they know that the wealth was contained in the land itself and the omnipotent river meandering through. The Cajuns journeyed by big canoe along these waters after being expelled from Acadia and found their new homeland in the bayous & prairies of South Louisiana and made a cultural paradise and music almost equal to the excitement & tragic beauty of the river. Nothing will match the romance of a river arrival into New Orleans. Imagine making a landing directly into the French Quarter on the levee at the Moonwalk, with the St. Louis Chapel projecting heavenward from Jackson Square, Jax Brewery on one side and the French Market on the other. The campsites can be creative & challenging, sometimes in the proximity of power plants, sometimes on the levee, sometimes on muddy riverbanks.
Contrary to all expectations, the river seems to get younger as it approaches its final destination, getting deeper, more mysterious, more mystical, and more playful, allowing industry and commercial transportation only on its surface all the while remaining aloof and keeping its power and beauty hidden down deep just beyond the complete ambitions of humanity. Oftentimes paddlers are challenged by abrupt right-angle bends and a fast moving freighter nearby, paddlers beware at Forty-Eight Point, Bringier Point, Point Houmas, Helvetia Point, Brilliant Point, College Point, Magnolia Point, and Forty-Eight Mile Point. The river is deep at these bends, over 200 feet in places. The natural deepest hole in the entire Mississippi Drainage is off Algier’s Point (opposite Jackson Square), where it dives to 250 feet deep.
Most Rivergator sections are at least 90% wilderness and no more than 10% industry. In this section of river, the converse is true, with at least 90% heavy industry and maybe 10% woods and wetlands. Any journey down the Mississippi is a journey filled with superlatives, the biggest, the widest, the greatest, and etc -- this section of river is no different, except instead of just being the biggest and best of nature, it is the biggest and the most gargantuan of post-industrial America. While not for everyone, this section of river, if approached with a good measure of precaution and careful planning, can be the education of a lifetime and an exciting adventure that truly can’t be equaled anywhere on earth.
Warning: for expert paddlers only. Note: if you have successfully paddled from the headwaters, you are now expert by light of the fact you got this far. Still, all paddlers should exercise extreme caution and patience. Paddle wisely. Use sailor’s sixth sense. Avoid during hurricane season. Go to shore and stay there in any bad weather or troubling situations.
Venice to the Gulf
20-30 miles. Depends on your route. The choices include South Pass, Southwest Pass and Pass LaOutre. What a joy to paddle the last ten miles of the Mighty Mississippi past Pilot Town to the legendary Head of Passes, mile -0- of the Lower Mississippi River. For through-paddlers, reaching the Gulf is like reaching the South Pole. Months of planning, paddling, long hot days and cold windy nights, weeks of rain and headwinds, millions of paddlestrokes and countless muddy campsites have brought you to the end of a significant pilgrimage spanning several distinct geographic regions. Your stamina and hard paddling have brought you down the longest and largest river in North America. Your quickest and quietest route to the Gulf is to take the South Pass and make landing on one of the muddy beaches past the lighthouse. Celebrate your expedition as appropriate, and if the weather is good make camp and stay for the night to fully relish the experience. Hitch a ride back with a friendly fisherman, or paddle back under your own steam. After completing thousands of miles of river, the upstream paddle will be a breeze! Best practice: before leaving Venice check the weather first and make note of wind speed and direction. In a south wind you might want to avoid the South Pass and instead opt for the Pass LaOutre or SW Pass. In strong west winds avoid the Southwest Pass. In South winds over 25mph stay in Venice until it calms.
Farthest navigable extension of the Mississippi River, the mouth of the river at the Southwest Pass. The Southwest Pass is the busiest out of all major river passes. But it also has the best flow (hence less paddling). As the river approaches the Gulf (and is drained off by its passes and other smaller openings to the Caribbean) it slows down and becomes sluggish. The mud and wastes of 41% of America are deposited and become the Louisiana Delta. At least this is how it’s supposed to work. This is what happens in the parallel drainage of the Atchafalaya, where the water is allowed to flow naturally as an alluvial delta into the shallow Gulf. Entirely within Plaquemines Parrish, the present day birdsfoot delta is a marshy, swampy land rich in oil, natural gas, mosquitoes, seafood and wildlife. And it’s also disappearing. In 1908 the Southwest pass was made navigable year-round with a 40 foot channel by the placement of a series of jetties (placed perpendicular to the river current). Captain James B. Eads had previously opened the South Pass by this method (1875), and the Army Corps of Engineers copied his method in 1908 with the Southwest Pass, and then diverted most of the flow down this route. Eads’ jetty method opened the passes to the seven seas, and led to the development of the Mississippi River system as the longest and heaviest used inland waterway system in the world. New Orleans (which previously was only accessible during high water) became America’s second busiest port. There are plans afoot to increase the depth to 60 feet to accommodate supertankers. Meanwhile the oceans are rising with great concern for the entire Gulf Coast which would be inundated by the end of the century according to modest estimates.
Put in at Venice, and quickly float past “the jump,” which was created when flood waters poured through a small canal dug by Venice fisherman in 1840. (The jump leads into Grand Pass and Tiger Pass). Ocean-going freighters, oil dock crew boats and fishing boats will be your companions as we paddle along past Cubits gap (opened by the Union Army during the Civil War) and Pilot Town. Pilot Town is an interesting water-bound enclave of Mississippi River Pilots. Here river pilots are taken aboard freighters to navigate them up the tricky channels of the Mississippi to New Orleans, Baton Rouge, and points in between. Immediately below Pilot Town is the “Head of Passes,” the zero marker of the Lower Mississippi River. Here the river splits into three major channels or “passes” leading to the Gulf. Best route: South Pass to the Gulf. From here the lines of trees on either bank descend into muddy marshes and shorelines, the lines of land diminishing, and the expanse of the gulf becoming more and more a reality until the entire horizon becomes the gulf at the end of the jetties. This section can be challenging in high wind. In severe weather there is no choice but to take shelter and wait out the storm. (Note: in the event of any oncoming hurricanes it would be best to stay put in Venice, or better yet New Orleans or Baton Rouge, and await its passing). There might be passing fishing boats and other local traffic, but all commercial vessels stay in the Southwest Pass.
Near here LaSalle claimed the Mississippi and all its contiguous lands for France after becoming the first European to float its length (1682). In the early 1800s an adventurous English traveler by the name Mrs. Trollope entered the Mississippi estuary and described the river “pouring forth its muddy mass of waters and mingling with the deep blue of the Mexican Gulf.” She declared that she had never beheld a scene so utterly desolate. “Had Dante seen it he might have drawn images from its horrors.” This vision might still hold true!
About “Cancer Alley”:
This charming term for the South Louisiana river parishes got a lot of play during the 1980s, especially after an epidemiologist named Vivien Chen reported an elevated incidence of lung cancer among white males here, mainly in New Orleans. Interestingly, white females and minorities of either sex did not show elevated lung cancer rates, meaning that the effect might be better explained by patterns in cigarette smoking than by exposure to industrial chemicals. Dr. Chen and other researchers later reported that, for most other cancers, incidence here is lower than or equal to that of the rest of the country. At this point, it’s worth noting a distinction between incidence and mortality. Many of these cancers have elevated mortality rates in South Louisiana, even without elevated incidence. This may be an indication of the quality of public health care here. Bottom line: If you’re worried about cancer, the time to worry is before you get here. Protect your skin from solar radiation with long sleeves, floppy hats, gloves, and (not or) sunscreen. Far too many paddlers arrive in Baton Rouge looking like a bunch of raw hamburger gone bad. (Mike Beck)
Possible Highwater Campsites along the Lower Mississippi River
All of this information will be updated in the 2015 edition of the Rivergator www.rivergator.org. The below list Indicates places that might have a piece of dry flat sand to make a stop, stretch your legs, have a quiet picnic, or pitch a tent, and stands high enough to make a safe camp during times of high water.
Warning: most of these places go under if the river is above Flood Stage in Baton Rouge (35.0). RBD = Right Bank Descending (“West Bank”), LBD = Left Bank Descending (“East Bank”).
? = unverified means I haven’t actually witnessed this location during highwater. Please send updates and add to list! John Ruskey. Quapaw Canoe Co. john@island63.com. (662) 902-7841. Thank You!