Mile 304.5 - 304.5 - 303 LBD Shreve’s Bar

304.5 - 303 LBD Shreve’s Bar

Leaving the Tunica Hills at Clark Creek behind and entering Louisiana the river expands to its maximum mile-and-a-half wide as if breathing in deep and opening up its broad chest, and enters a long straight stretch that can be a white water commotion in a strong west wind, but is usually a sublime passage in a gently murmuring flow. There is something particularly heavenly about the river in these places where it opens up and flows towards a mid-channel island, such as here as it approaches Shreve’s Bar. Maybe it has to do with the big open reach, or maybe it’s the rippling water responding to the shallowing bottom, or maybe it’s the walls of trees on either side where you whoop and listen for the clear echo sure to follow on a quiet day. Or maybe it’s the presence of the mysterious island gradually gathering shape and presence as you approach, or maybe it’s all of these factors. Whatever it is, the colors of the murmuring river is a kind of nirvana, and once found is just as easily lost.

Best camping is usually found on the top end of Shreve’s Bar, at all water levels, although at lower water you could continue down either side for other options. The island comes to a knife edge bottom with a narrow willow tree point that offers a low/medium water option for picnicking and camping.

Shreve’s Bar is named after Capt. Henry Miller Shreve - American inventor and steamboat captain who opened the Mississippi, Ohio and Red rivers to steamboat navigation. Shreveport, Louisiana, is named in his honor.

From the March 15, 2015 Rivergator Journals: “Crescent old moon rising over Angola, spring peepers peeping in the flooding forests, gentle waves lapping the top end of Shreve’s Bar, the river at 45.7 on the Red River Gage and rising a foot a day. The throb and de-acceleration of the Angola Ferry engines can be heard across the channel as it maneuvers out of dock to cross over to the pen with the days fresh force of guards. The Grasshopper Canoe balanced perfectly below the cinder darkside of the moon and the intensely glowing crescent side. Its only the waning moon, a thin sliver maybe 5% of the whole, and yet you can see all close-up features of Shreve’s Bar, and it makes a distinct silvery rippling reflection dancing across Shreve’s Back Channel, and strikes a sharp line down the gunwales and exposes the grainy texture of the sandy shoreline repeatedly wetted by the never-ending tongue-waves of water licking and lapping playfully. Sagittarius crossing the still leafless willows led by the elegant double spiral of Scorpius, and long meandering trail of stars, many couplets, connecting to Ursa Major rotating endlessly around the heaven’s pole star as sure as the arms of grandfather’s clock. Leo setting over the Atchafalaya Old River Lock leading us into the watery adventure soon to come. The ferry crossed over again and makes landing on Turnbull’s Island. A mist flowing over and off the water, an airborne river. I feel like we are floating in the current, a special time, breathing deeply with the lungs of the earth.”