The Lower Missouri is its own water trail, which can be explored online including great photos and a useful interactive map. Go to the Missouri River Trail Website: www.missouririverwatertrail.org Thanks to Missouri River paddler and author Bryan Hopkins for letting us include his writing in the Rivergator Appendix.

Paddling the Missouri River

It is worth pointing out that paddling on the Missouri River is often not as complex as is initially perceived from shore. The majority of the turbulent water is concentrated near river training structures. These are often referred to as wing dams or dikes and are reinforced with large rock. The dikes (wing dams) typically start from the river bank and can reach out several hundred feet towards the rivers channel. These structures are designed to deflect the rivers flow towards the main channel to promote a “self-scouring” channel. In most cases a paddler can maneuver to avoid these structures completely and thereby avoid much of the "pushy water" that can be generated by the dikes.

Paddling in the main channel is very much like being on an escalator or moving treadmill at an airport, where once you are up to speed, things are straightforward. Conversely, the rivers currents are most complex at the interface of the main channel flow and slower water surrounding the dike structures. As a result, a paddler is often best served by simply staying in the middle of the river on the straight-aways and trending to outside of the large bends in the river.

The Navigation section also provides tips on using the navigation channel markers to definitively locate the main river channel. This can be important, as paddlers will occasionally have to share the main channel with the large barges that operate on the river. Fortunately on the open river these vessels can be seen well in advance and appropriate evasive action taken. More information on dealing with barges is provided in the navigation section.

Paddling the lower Missouri River is in many ways analogous to being on a very long moving lake. The challenges to paddlers are similar to those found on open water lakes, such as the effect of high winds, exposure to storms and general isolation from shore. Almost without fail, first time paddlers on the Missouri River find themselves relaxing within minutes, as the intimidation felt from shore simply melts away.

Paddling on the Missouri river involves the same rules that apply to any prudent boating in respect to watching the weather, wearing a life jacket at all times and being vigilant of obstructions and hazards in the river. Please review the safety section on this site and remember that you are ultimately responsible for your own safety.

Safety on the Lower Missouri

The Missouri River is one of the largest rivers in North America. This statement may seem kind of obvious, but from a safety standpoint this is an important consideration. Unlike a trip on a smaller river or stream, if you capsize in the middle of the Missouri River, you may find yourself quite some distance from shore. Wearing a life jacket is recommended for any kind of boating activity and doubly so for paddling on the Missouri River. The Missouri River is sometimes described as like paddling on a big moving lake. This analogy is valuable, as many of the typical safety issues associated with paddling on a lake are especially relevant for the Missouri River. Wind can be a major factor on the wide-open Missouri River, resulting in waves that can make paddling a challenge. Cold water is also a factor that should be considered on the Missouri River. If you capsize, you may not be able to get to shore easily. During a significant portion of winter and early spring the water is cold. A wet suit is a good idea when paddling on any open body of water in the state of Missouri during these times. More boaters are killed by cold water, than any other cause, often despite wearing a life jacket.

Large barges travel the river corridor and these large vessels have no ability to steer around small craft such as a canoe or kayak. However, if you learn to recognize the location of the river channel that is indicated by the navigation marker system on the river, then you know exactly where a barge must travel. More information on reading the navigation markers can be found in the river tools section. When encountering a barge, a paddler should move to the side of the river and wait for the barge to pass and the waves to settle down. By pointing your boat towards the waves you should be able to let the barge and its waves pass with little trouble. It is worth repeating that barges have legal right-of-way and do not have the maneuverability to avoid your small craft. You must move aside and let them pass.

Another consideration is the hazard posed by barges moored on the river. Stay well clear of these, as the river is rushing under the front of the vessel and could pull a small craft under. The lower Missouri River is a channelized river system. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has constructed rock-reinforced structures along the entire lower river, used to direct the current into a central channel. These “wing dams” or “L-dikes” can create turbulence and strong currents that are best avoided by small craft.

The current averages between 3-5 miles per hour with a flow that can range between 30,000 -100,000 cubic feet per second. This gives the Missouri River immense power. Paddlers should keep alert and avoid logs, wing dams and other structures in the river, including navigation buoys. Currents are often strong around these objects and can create an entrapment hazard. When the river is rising, a significant amount of debris can end up in the water, such as logs, trash and even entire trees. It is advised to consider waiting until the river level begins to drop again, as much of the debris will hang up on shore or wing dams, making travel much better. When camping on a sandbar, it is a good idea to know what you would do if the river rises. A good local rainfall can bring the river up several feet in a matter of hours.

The Missouri River presents a special attraction for those who wish to get away from the crowds. However, the distances between access points can be 10 miles or more. It is important to plan your trip accordingly and understand that paddling down the Missouri River often involves an element of commitment. The surrounding bottomlands are largely agricultural or undeveloped and one can paddle miles without seeing signs of human habitation.

Katy Trail State Park

A truly unique aspect of the lower Missouri River is the synergy with the Katy Trail State Park. This hiking and biking trail runs besides the river for over 150 miles, and is the longest rail-to-trail system in America. This popular state park is the perfect companion to the water trail and has spawned a multitude of privately run campgrounds, bed and breakfasts, unique shops, restaurants and many other services along its course - all very close to the river's edge. With a little planning, a paddler can even choose to use a bike to get back to their launch vehicle after some quality time on the river.

In addition to the Katy Trail State Park there are several state conservation areas, state parks, federal lands and city parks adjacent to the river. Many of these offer access points and camping opportunities and information on these locations can be found by viewing this sites series of interactive maps. An additional section with additional river tools has also been provided to help you plan and prepare for a paddling excursion on the lower Missouri River.

Getting Started

For those new to paddling the Missouri River or perhaps paddlers looking for a quick weekend adventure, check out the featured areas. Here you will find several highlighted sections of the water trail, with a detailed itinerary and even driving directions to set up a shuttle. These portions of the water trail are perfect for getting to know the river and all it has to offer.

We believe you will find the river an untapped resource right in the heart of the state of Missouri. The lower Missouri River is an impressive, ever changing and dynamic river. As a result, every paddling trip presents a new adventure. However, paddlers should keep in mind that the Lower Missouri River is a very large and powerful river with the potential for significant changes in both river level and paddling conditions. As a result, the best way to get on the Missouri River for the first time is often to accompany a paddler who is familiar with the river or with an organized group or guide service. When boating any body of water, paddlers are ultimately responsible for their own safety. It is important that you familiarize yourself with the challenges presented and some additional information in this regard can be found in the river safety section of this website.

River Levels

There are a series of gages on the Missouri River that provide real-time river level information. The gages are all relative to the site they are located. When the Boonville gage reports 14 feet, it does not mean the whole river is 14 feet deep, rather this value is simply the depth at the location it is measured. However, these gages will allow a paddler to determine a general river stage as guidance when planning a paddling trip. View current river levels and level forecasts

(link is external)

The actual depth of the river channel typically ranges from 10-20 feet, with sharply decreasing depth outside of the channel. Lower Missouri River paddlers often take note of the river level at which the wing dams/rock dikes are exposed. When the tops of these structures are out of the water, the current is often more predictable. The faster water will be found in the channel and conversely the slower water is confined to the areas behind or immediately downstream of the rock structures. Conversely, higher river levels often will overtop the wing dams and can result in much stronger eddy lines, boils and reverse hydraulics across a greater portion of the river.

Paddlers are encouraged to become familiar with the effect of river levels on the section they intend to paddle. Every stretch of the river is different and tributary input can greatly affect local river levels. However, as a very general rule of thumb, when the Boonville gage is 10 feet or lower, most of the wing dams/dikes become exposed on the stretch from Kansas City to St. Louis.

Sand Bars

There are numerous sandbars that will appear on the stretch of river from Glasgow to Weldon Springs at river levels below 7-8 feet on the Boonville gage. These sandbars can range from being a few hundred feet long to covering multiple football fields in size and often have fine white sands that rival a Caribbean beach.

These are ideal places to camp or take a break and are one of the jewels of the Missouri River paddling experience. Sandbars located between the river’s banks are typically open to public use. The lands beyond the river’s banks are mostly private property. Careful review of the maps provided on this site will help to avoid trespassing on private lands. When camping on a sandbar, keep in mind that the river can come up fast and be prepared for what you would do if the river wants to take your sandbar back!

Trip Planning and Distances

A special attraction of the Missouri River is its remote setting. However this means a paddler must plan carefully and be prepared to be self-reliant. The current on the river is typically around 3-5 mph, and this can help your craft to travel down the river. However, even a slight upriver wind can slow down your boat dramatically and negate the boost the current is providing. Given ideal conditions, an experienced paddler who keeps the paddle moving and does not stop too long at any point could cover 15-30 miles in a day. However, a better trip is perhaps 5-15 miles, which allows a group to loaf around on the sandbars and let the current do most the work. Keep in mind that night on the river is for expert paddlers only, so plan your trip accordingly.

With experience you will begin to find what distance is right for you. A good strategy is to start with small trips and work your way up. Many expedition paddlers, traveling long sections of the river, will routinely paddle over 40 miles in a day with favorable conditions. However, keep in mind that there are often no practical ways to cut a trip short. Access points can be over 10 or more miles apart and most of the river bottomlands are agricultural lands or are undeveloped. A trip on the Missouri River involves a certain amount of commitment.

Weather Factors

Winds often blow up the river valley. Wind speeds can at times be greater on the river than reported for surrounding land areas, due to the fetch offered by the open river. An upriver wind can slow your progress down the river substantially. Be prepared to factor this wind effect into your trip planning. It is not unusual for a canoe to have to be "worked" down the river, regardless of current, as a result of a strong upriver wind.

Another weather factor to consider is fog. Any time of year a fog can build up on the river. This is especially pronounced in the evenings and mornings of autumn. It is not unusual to wake up on a sandbar and find the river socked in with fog. In such an event, you will have to wait several hours for the fog to clear before you can safely get underway. Traveling the river in a heavy fog would be a folly and should not be attempted. It is a good idea to factor this into your trip planning and allow a time cushion for overnight trips, in the event you are fogged in one morning.

Severe weather can be a major factor on any open body of water. The Missouri River is a big wide open river and is more like a lake in this respect. A Missouri River paddler needs to take the same weather precautions that apply to lake or ocean travel. Please review the safety section for more information. The water trail maps have a weather button you can activate for local weather near your section of river. You can also access a long range forecast at http://www.weather.gov/forecastmaps

Gear Selection

Most elements of boat selection and gear are up to the experience of the individual paddler. Paddle-camping is very similar to backpacking, with limited space and a premium on function in adverse conditions (a stove that still works, after becoming covered in wet sand for example). A review of the substantial guides on backpacking is an excellent resource for river camping with a canoe or kayak. Bringing a change of clothes in a dry-bag is highly recommended. Dry clothes can make you feel 100% better after a long day on the river and could save your life in the event of an emergency. Note: Cell phone coverage on the river can be surprisingly good and so a waterproof case for your phone can be a good investment.

A touring kayak is an ideal vessel for paddling the Missouri River. These boats are fairly fast and maneuverable and offer a lower profile to the wind than typical of a canoe. However, kayaks shorter than 10 feet can be difficult to steer, as they tend to track to one side with every paddle stroke. Canoes can be a good choice due to increased storage space and the ability to access gear while on the river. In comparison, many kayaks have closed storage compartments that require you to open them from shore. Paddle boards are also proving more popular each year for day trips on the river

There is no one magical boat for the Missouri River; however it is a very good idea to check that your boat has floatation. This is often provided in the form of foam blocks in the bow and stern of a canoe, or a closed storage area with bulkhead on a kayak. The current on the river is very strong and could easily take full control of a capsized boat that did not have some type of floatation.

High-end composite and wooden boats are fine for the Missouri River, as the risk of hitting rocks can be minimized by staying clear of the wing dams or shore revetments. Plastic boats offer the advantage of being both cheaper and resilient to abuse. Any good outdoor shop should be able to help you make a good boat selection. Keep in mind that the canoe you may already have in the back yard will probably work just fine. Finally, going down the Missouri River in an inner tube or small inflatable raft is truly a bad idea. These vessels have severely limited directional control required to safely avoid barges, recreational boats or other hazards in the river.

The U.S. Coast Guard is responsible for maintaining shore-based beacons (signposts) along with in-river buoys marking the channel for the entire lower Missouri River. Learning to read this system will allow a paddler to tell where the channel of the river is located. A brief summary of the United States Coast Guard Aids to Navigation system used on the Missouri River is provided by the following link. Navigation Aids Sheet (link is external).

Of special interest to paddlers is the fact that the shore beacons also have the river mileage posted on them. These are given as miles traveled upriver from the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers (near the city of St. Louis). Such mileage indicators can be typically found every 3-4 miles on the river. By observing them, you always know in general where you are. This combined with the knowledge of the river mile of your take-out point and you can determine how well your trip is going and estimate how long it will take to get to your destination.

Understanding the navigation system also lets you know exactly where a barge will have to travel if you encounter one. The barge will have to stay in the river channel. Knowing where the main channel is, a paddler can easily move to the appropriate side to wait for the barge and its waves to pass by. This can be analogous to routine task of walking on a sidewalk next to a road. Simply by knowing where the main channel is, you also know where the barge must travel. It is important to remember that they cannot steer around you, therefore you must move out of the way of any barge traveling the river.

The Unites States Coast Guard has also produced a booklet full of good information on boating navigation in general. The rules that guide safe interactions with power boats, navigation light requirements for night travel, conventions for how bridges are marked for safe passage and much more are provided in this document. An especially useful section is the one that outlines in detail the Western Rivers Navigation System

(link is external), which is the convention adopted for the Missouri River.

Navigating the River Safely

General Safety Guidelines

The lower Missouri River is really not an appropriate place to learn to canoe or kayak for the first time. Learning basic paddling skills is best done on sheltered waters and under the guidance of an experienced paddler. The Missouri River is a very large and powerful river, with significant changes in both river level and paddling conditions. As a result the River can present some special challenges for any paddler. Some observations on the unique aspects of the River are provided in this section.

A boating safety on the Lower Missouri River brochure was produced during the Lewis and Clark bicentennial by the Missouri Lewis and Clark Public Safety Planning Committee. Reviewing this document prior to planning a trip is a good start to a successful and enjoyable Missouri River experience. The American Canoe Association (ACA) also provides a list of safety tips that is well worth reading: http://www.americancanoe.org/?page=top_10

The best way to get on the Missouri River for the first time is to accompany a paddler who is familiar with the river or with an organized group or guide service. You are always responsible for your own safety when boating. It is important that you familiarize yourself with the challenges presented by the Missouri River.

Jumping Asian Carp

Invasive Asian carp have regrettably populated much of the lower Missouri River over the last decade. These fish were brought to North America for use in fish farms and soon escaped from the aquaculture facilities. The carp have since found America’s big rivers to be ideal habitat. These large bodied fish compete for food with native species and have created concern surrounding the long term impact to large river ecosystems.

One variant of these invasive fish (the silver carp) have garnered significant media attention for their bad habit of leaping vigorously into the air when disturbed. This is most often observed when a power boat travels at slower speeds in backwater

tributaries of the river. Specifically, the rumbling of an outboard engine seems to agitate the fish greatly. Such situations can create dramatic scenes with multiple fish leaping into the air in panic at the vibrations from a passing boat. While there is no doubt that this has the potential to be a hazard to a kayaker, as these fish can be 1-2 feet long and weigh 10-20 lbs., this behavior is most often confined to slower water behind the wing dike structures or in the creeks feeding into the Missouri River where the carp congregate to feed.

Conversely, it is rare to see carp leaping in the faster flows of the main channel. Prudence may dictate that kayakers show some caution when paddling in the slower waters behind wing dams or when being passed by a power boat. Keep in mind that actual physical contact with paddlers by leaping fish is very uncommon and most days a paddler will not witness any jumping carp while on the river. For more information the problem of invasive fish species you may want the review documents provided by the Missouri Department of Conservation on this subject.

Chain of Rocks Hazard

If you desire to finish a trip on the Missouri River by traveling down the Mississippi River to the St. Louis Arch, please know there is a significant hazard along your path. You cannot simply head down the main flow of the Mississippi River towards St. Louis. Below the confluence of the Missouri River and the Mississippi River you will encounter the remains of a natural geologic formation and an old river control structure. This creates a river-wide set of whitewater rapids, containing submerged concrete hazards and old construction rebar. Passage though these turbulent waters would be very dangerous. One option is to use the lock and dam. While passage through a lock and dam is possible in a small craft, it takes some time and is usually very intimidating. The other option is to keep to the east bank (river left, facing downstream) and make sure you take out on the Illinois side of the river just above the rapids. After a 200-yard portage from this location, it is possible to re-enter the river below the rapids. Keep in mind that the river front near St. Louis is typically very busy, with barges plying the river and moored along the banks. A paddle trip down to the Arch presents some complex hazards to paddlers and should not be taken lightly.

By Bryan Hopkins, Water Resources Center, Missouri Department of Natural Resources. For more maps, photos and more description for the Missouri River Trail, please go visit: www.missouririverwatertrail.org.

Rivergator Appendix II

Upper Mississippi River Water Trails

The Mississippi River Water Trail is overseen by the Mississippi River Water Trail Association which is a partnership between the USACE, USFW, National Audubon Society, Illinois Department of Conservation, Missouri Department of Natural Resources, Missouri Department of Conservation, Palisades Sierra Club, Great Rivers Land Trust, Meeting of the Rivers Foundation, 1 Mississippi Campaign, American Canoe Association, and many others.

The Mississippi River Water Trail passes through the heart of North America and is deeply rooted in natural scenic beauty, Native American heritage and cultural history. Known as the Father of Waters, the Mississippi River gives visitors the chance to enjoy paddling through one of the most scenic stretches of the river in North America that is not only lined with majestic bluffs and full of wildlife viewing opportunities, but also provides plenty of places to stop and relax whether it be a remote island or exciting river city.

There are hard copy maps available at the National Great Rivers Museum in Alton, IL. You can find the link for navigation charts on the resources tab. We strongly encourage users to take along a Mississippi River Navigation Chart. Be Smart, always wear a lifejacket when on the water. Learn, camp, paddle, explore, bird watch, and fish the Mississippi River Water Trail on your next adventure!!

The (Upper) Mississippi River Water Trail is broken up into 3 sections: Pike's Passage (Pool 24), Pinnacle Pass (Pool 25), and Bluffs Trail (Pool 26/27).

Hard Copy Maps are available of Pools 24, 25, and 26/27 at the Rivers Project Office or National Great Rivers Museum in Alton, IL. To request by phone please call 636.899.2600 or 618.462.6979.

Downloadable Maps

The navigation charts are sold through cooperative agreements between the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and Eastern National and the Quad Cities Convention and Visitors Bureau. The updated Illinois Waterway charts cost $12.98 plus tax and shipping (if applicable). Charts may be purchased in person or over the phone from the Illinois Waterway Visitor Center, located at 950 North 27th Road, Ottawa, Ill., phone (815) 667-4054; and from the Mississippi River Visitor Center, Arsenal Island, Rock Island, Ill., phone (309) 794-5338. Telephone orders must be paid by credit card (VISA, Master Card or American Express). Discounted pricing is applied to orders of ten or more. For more information contact the Illinois Waterway Visitor Center at (815) 667-4054 or visit www.mvr.usace.army.mil/Missions/Navigation/NavigationCharts.aspx.

Downloadable Maps

The Upper Mississippi River Navigation Charts cover the Upper Mississippi River from the head of navigation at river mile 866 in Minneapolis, Minn., to the confluence with the Ohio River at Cairo, Ill. The navigable portions of the Minnesota and St. Croix Rivers are also included. The charts were last updated in 2011. They are available to purchase in hard copy format from the Mississippi River (at Lock & Dam 15) and Illinois Waterway (at Starved Rock Lock & Dam) Visitor Centers.

2014 Public Service Announcement via Youtube

Pool 24 Maps

Saverton to Ashburn

Ashburn to Louisiana

Louisiana to Clarksville

Gosline to Crider Island

Pharrs Island to Lock 24

Pike's Passage (Pool 24):

Pike's Passage was chosen as the name of this section of the water trail, since the Mississippi River is bordered on both sides by Pike County, Illinois and Missouri. Zebulon Pike for which the two counties are named, was a soldier and explorer. He was the leader of the Pike expedition in 1806 to map out the south and west portions of the Louisiana Purchase.

Pike's Passage (Pool 24) is 27.8 miles long.

The cities of Louisiana and Clarksville sit along the Mississippi River and provide paddlers the best opportunities to access convenience stores, restaurants, lodging, and equipment repairs.

There are some structures, such as wing dikes and chevrons, around shorelines or islands, which direct the main flow of water into the channel and/or improve aquatic habitat.

Built in 1873, the Louisiana Railroad Swingspan Bridge is 2,150 feet long.

Lock and dam 24 provides an average lift of 15 feet. The Dam is 1,340 feet long with 15 tainter gates and one lock chamber.

Pinnacle Pass (Pool 25):

Pinnacle Pass (Pool 25) is 27.8 miles long.

The highest point on the Mississippi River is located in Clarksville, Missouri, and is known as "The Pinnacle". It sits more than 900' above sea level and has a panoramic view of Pools 24 and 25.

In early settlement times salt was produced at salt springs north of Clarksville and transported downstream by canoe to be sold in St. Louis.

The City of Clarksville sits along the Mississippi River and provides paddlers the best opportunity to access convenience stores, restaurants, lodging, and equipment repair.

Locks and Dam 25 provides an average lift of 15 feet.

The Dam is 1,296 feet long with 13 tainter gates, 3 roller gates and one lock chamber. The first day of operation was May 18, 1939.

There are some structures, such as wing dikes and chevrons, around shorelines or islands, which direct the main flow of water into the channel and/or improve aquatic habitat.

Mississippi River Flyway hosts approximately 40% of the nation's migratory birds through the spring and fall migrations.

Suggested Trips for Pool 25

Directions to Pool 25

Beginner Trips

Intermediate Trips

Advanced Trips

Bluffs Trail (Pool 26/27)

Bluffs trail is named after the majestic bluffs that line the river from Alton past Grafton and into Pere Marquette State Park.

The City of Alton is full of historical markers and museums, a full service marina, restaurants, and hotels. Booklets and information about all these sites can be found at the Alton Visitor Center.

The Chain of Rocks is a hazard in Pool 27 and should be avoided.

The Chain of Rocks canal is accessible by canal/kayak.

The Mississippi River Water Trail Association was established through the American Canoe Association to support and enhance the Mississippi River Water Trail and encourage community involvement.

The Association showcases the Mississippi River as a paddling destination rich with cultural heritage, wildlife, natural areas, and history. The Association will promote and encourage safe paddling opportunities on the Mississippi River. Volunteers will provide support by maintaining trail rest areas, primitive campsites, and facilities to ensure quality recreational opportunities for paddlers.

The Association will promote safety awareness and provide activities, events, and educational opportunities. The water trail association will also facilitate collaboration with communities, organizations, and agencies to foster sound safety and conservation practices along the river.

Rivergator Appendix III

Mike Clark: Chain of Rocks

Big Muddy Mike Clark is the owner of Big Muddy Adventures of St. Louis. This originally appeared as a posting in the River Miles online forum, from March 19, 2010. Used here with permission of author.

Given that I professionally outfit and guide the Mississippi River, notably the section from the Winfield Dam to Cairo, I generally hesitate to offer too much information since it is my livelihood to paddle folks through such places as the Chain of Rocks, the St. Louis port, and on down. And generally speaking, there is a touch of professional responsibility and liability to do so. However, the friends herein are not my clients generally speaking and in fact many are my friends and fellow members of the River Rat Union, so here's some thoughts.

As suggested, the Chain of Rocks is relatively easy to navigate when the river level is above 15 feet gauge height at St. Louis. The falls and whitewater disappear under the 250,000 - 700,000 cfs that flow over. Below that level, you should use great caution. Manitou Paddler has a good description of the conditions at these lower levels. I will add to that with the caveat that the common advice of "river right" may no longer be the best. The immense power of the rising and falling water has changed the river right passage quite a bit. I have run the Chain at below 12 feet gauge height well over a dozen times in the past six months and have found that the river right run is now at least as tricky as the left side. Before this past year, I would say that the river right was indeed the safer and easier route, however today there are three sets of falls river right, smaller yes than the left side where there is generally just one big one, and considerable chaotic hydraulics and standing waves. There is a "safer" passage way that flows through just to the right of the Missouri side intake tower that does not engage the falls or the big whitewater. The first part of this actually runs a bit perpendicular to the channel. You can see it well from on top of the bridge which is one of the two important scouting positions for running the Chain, the other being from the sand bar and bank on the river left side, Choteau Island. It requires a ferry crossing style move with a catch of an eddy line created by the wing dike just above the treatment plant and below the intake. Catching this eddy then allows you to set up to paddle downstream in a line between the falls and whitewater that remain close to and along the river right bank and the huge stuff which exists directly below the Missouri side intake tower.

And on another note of caution, the Chain may not be the trickiest or most dangerous stretch of the Middle Mississippi. My experience now says that the section from the Poplar Bridge to the JB Bridge which is 18 miles below the Arch is a very difficult stretch to navigate. This is the port of St. Louis which is as busy as it gets with commercial traffic moving 24/7 down a very narrow navigable channel with mid channel anchorage, line boats moving up and downstream pushing up to 15 barges, and harbor tows buzzing in and out between the anchorages and industrial St. Louis side. The turbulent waters they create, with barge wakes rising 5 to 8 feet and then crashing into each other, and the bank and then returning back across the channel.... Well you get the picture. This stretch makes me nervous every time. It is especially difficult if it is windy. And whatever you do, you should not run left of the mid channel anchorage. The harbor tows and rake barges at anchor create a very, very dangerous obstacle course, much of which is unseen as you paddle. Stick to the main channel, a bit on the river right side, put it in gear and paddle, paddle, paddle til you get to the JB Bridge. I recommend a marine radio to help identify what is going on both in front and behind you.

From the JB Bridge heading south, you will find the river quite lovely. Yes, there is quite a bit of tow traffic, but generally speaking the river channel allows for both tows and canoes to navigate in harmony. Under calmer day conditions, tow wakes are generally like ocean swells. You ride up and down without having them break on top of your bow. They are spaced nicely apart. This is not the case when it is windy however.

Anyway, for my first post to the Forum, this was much too long, and now it is time to head out for a trip on the flooding waters. See y'all on the river and give a call when you get to town.

Big Muddy Mike

Rivergator Appendix IV

Mike Clark: Alton to Arch

Like a race horse at the starting gate of the Derby, the Mississippi River begins its 1156 mile free flowing run to the Gulf of Mexico at the Mel Price Lock and Dam in Alton, IL. The churning waters exit and leap forth, barreling their way into a magnificent valley set between two great long lines of bluffs stretching from just above St. Louis at the Great Confluence all the way to Cape Girardeau. On the Illinois side, river left descending, it becomes the great American Bottoms, one of the oldest and most fertile agricultural lands in the world. It is where the great Cahokia Mound Builders established their civilization in a setting able to sustain more than 20,000 people, one of the largest cities in the world at its time, 1000 A.D. On the Missouri side, river right descending, the river exhibits its connecting mannerisms to its Confluence with the Big Muddy Missouri River. Bottled up by levees, the two rivers parallel each other for 17 miles until they meet in an often turbulent mass of water marked by large boils and whirlpools.

Technically, the Middle Mississippi is part of the Upper Mississippi River, as it is recognized on the US Army Corps maps for the UMRM, however, it is entirely free flowing, and thus in behavior, control systems and chaotic flows much more kindred to the Lower Mississippi River. For the paddler, the dramatic change of the river is very noticeable. It is like graduating from middle school and going straight to college. The current immediately picks up speed, advancing from a typical 2-4 mph on the Upper Miss to 4-7 mph on the Middle Mississippi river. In terms of paddling proficiency, this is where the learning curve of navigating amongst the tow boats becomes more complex.

The Middle Mississippi River is narrow in width in its modern form compared to the pools above the lock and dam. The wing dikes assist in creating a challenging dance between paddler and commercial navigation. But here, in its first free flowing form, this challenge only lasts for six miles, to the Great Confluence, and the opening to the Chain of Rocks Canal, where a sign greets all boaters, “All Boats Must Go Here”, pointing down the canal. Of course, paddlers rarely follow that command, and rightly so. The reach from the Confluence to the Arch includes the only 11 non-commercially navigable waters of the entire River between Minneapolis / St. Paul and the Gulf. Two pristine islands punctuate this reach, Duck Island and Mosenthien Island. And its very reason for being non-commercially navigable sits just a bit more than midway down, the Chain of Rocks low water dam. This is the Big Muddy Wild and Scenic reach in the heart of the St. Louis metropolitan area.

For paddlers wishing to begin a trip at the start of the Middle Mississippi, the Maple Island Access directly adjacent to and on the downstream side of the lock and dam is a great one. The boat ramp is located within the Riverlands Migratory Bird Sanctuary and is on the Missouri side of the river. The strong and chaotic flows coming through the dam do not affect the put in since the boat ramp is situated in a cut out protected by a large rip rap wall. Entering the river from this cut out is a fitting first experience to the free flowing river. The chaotic flows created by the mass of water coming through the gates grab your boat and bounce it, sending tremors reverberating through the hull. Thus, giving the first time experience a bit of the “pucker effect” until you are turned downstream and moving outside of a large eddy along what is the top end of Maple Island. Just 100 yards downstream, the first opportunity to get off of the main channel and explore the wonders of the back channel of a Middle Mississippi island presents itself. A channel opens up at a 90 degree angle to the River and paddlers are able to turn into a magic bird land kingdom where in Spring and Fall seasons, the great migration of birds can be witnessed. In the winter, American Bald Eagles by the dozens come at sunset to roost in the cottonwoods, and silver maples of Maple Island along the channel and are easily viewed during the day time fishing in the unfrozen waters below the dam. This channel runs for 4 miles along the braided land form called Maple Island. This back channel has two cutouts to return to the main channel, and there are two low water dams which are only a concern in the low water flows. Low water flows can also cause this channel to dry up about 2 miles down. It is a great happy hour of paddling to put in paddle down and return back to the boat ramp. It is also a great circumnavigation trip, whereby you can paddle down the main channel and take one of the downstream cutouts into the back channel and its low flows allowing for a return to the ramp.

Along the main channel side of Maple Island, you are forced to paddle opposite the first heavy industrial reach of the Middle Mississippi. The Conoco / Chevron refinery sits midway down the reach from the dam to the Confluence, and there are often fleeted barges and tow boats parked along the island as they wait their turn to lock through on their way upstream. The navigation channel runs along the river left descending and is typically pretty busy, but the flow is fairly consistent all the way across to the island. Just one mile down this reach, Wood River empties in from the Illinois side, river left descending. It was on this small tributary that Lewis and Clark and the Corps of Discovery built their first winter camp in 1803, of their three year expedition, Camp DuBois. A replica of this camp was built in 2001 and is located in a barrow pond just over the levee. Yearly rendezvous events are held there.

At UMRM 198, the last of the braided pieces of Maple Island give way to a wide open expanse in which the Great Confluence exists at UMRM 196. On the Missouri side, the Ted Jones State Park exists with its signature promontory point at the Confluence. This is a great place to stop and enjoy the views of the muddy waters of the Missouri River, fast flowing into its handshake with the tannin rich Mississippi River waters. A line of differentiation, marked by the distinctly colored waters is noticeable and remains so downstream for another six miles to the Chain of Rocks.

-Michael F. Clark

Rivergator Appendix V

Over the Chain of Rocks with the Lewis & Clark

Bicentennial Re-enactment of 2006

Saturday, September 22nd, Columbia Bottoms

A happy thought this morning, my wife Sarah close by, soundly sleeping amongst the Chinook women in the Ft. Dubois Women’s Bunkhouse (I learn later, not so soundly, all are awakened by Willow’s arrival at 4:30am who commenced his usual roaring snoring in the women’s bunkhouse, having been kicked out of the men’s) Bug, Possum and the Mighty Quapaws in attendance nearby, opposite bunkhouse, Mara, Church’s mother is here, and I saw Scott’s Daddy, Mom & Daddy have safely arrived, the hoop is coming together, all of our friends and family who will join us on this day at the base of the Chain of Rocks

The repercussion waves of the rolling rapids rocking me to sleep – even a mile below the rapids where the canoes are pulled up for the night, parallel slicing waves rocking the LG2 Lee Squared raft where I erected my tent and lay my head, one last night sleeping on my waterbed the river, with the threat of rain Mike and I avoid the canoes, and so I’m happy to have the raft right here, the restless canoes digging against the muddy banks in restless impatience, snags breaking the rippling surface illuminated as black silhouettes by the orangish glowing of the downtown massif bulk, the breakdown of the last Missouri bluffs falling down like dominoes from the central plateau into shallow one-sided canyons carved by the various rivers, the Big Muddy breaking through the center of all in its unstoppable eastward stampede, like a rampaging buffalo herd running across the Great Plains, all bluffs, all prairies, all ridges and hilly features come to an abrupt halt where the Mother River the Mississippi works her way through the center of our nation, gently gathering her children one by one in her passage, the mesmerizing watery ways and moisture trails all brought together and deposited and dispersed one family into the Gulf of Mexico, in commensuration all of us gathering here today made one family by the river that brings us all together.

Underwater blue light visible in the thinning of the clouds overhead, the roaring of the Chain of Rocks and its rolling waves and repercussions resonating downstream – whew! – our last major obstacle, my work here completed, all last night I was tossing & turning in the wind worrying about the havoc-wreaking Chain, the entire Mississippi River falling over a nine-foot shelf, the tumultuous cascade of boils, frothings, giant waves & eddies, too powerful and expansive to understand in any one viewing, a mile-wide shelving over which the muddy water tumbles and is broken into a complicated maze of falls, tongues, powerful eddying places, transecting edges of limestone shelves extending inward and outward, criss-crossing each other, deep fall pools followed by shallows, no easy lines to follow, the whole cannot be scouted from any one vantage point, but must run in segments, the first being the most important, if you make a mistake on the entrance to the avalanche you and your crew might be strewn out over hundreds of yards of shelving, your canoe scraped and battered on boulders, wrapped around snags and other obstructions, concrete columns and raggedly strewn steelworks that lay like the teeth of an open mouthed shark, hopefully you pick the right entrance to begin the jump, if you chose wrong you might end up stranded on a stony shallows a half mile from either bank with thundering water all around you.

22 paddlers pushed off from Columbia Bottom on the 22nd, 84 year old Chinook elder George Lagergren in Mato Chante with Mike, Derek Lagergren, Tom & Kessina, Wanbli River Dancer once again was honored to bear Macaw Chief Lester Greene prow, Hannah at his feet (this made the big chief happy!), Tony Lagergren, Idaho Jimmy, Clayton and myself, six in Wanblee, the most people the Eagle has borne in her great wings, Scott with the 2 Lagergren sisters Peggy and Ellen, Church, Jay and Gunny in the Banana Boat, Ron and Steve in one Grumman courtesy of Randy Slow (Slow Canoe Rentals), and in another Willow paddling Nan and Patricia, and of course faithful Dory Doug and the “put-put-put” African Queen. “I’m stealing Chinook women!” Willow hollers from his Grumman and turns around against the current and the direction of all the other canoes, “I’ve taken your canoes and now I’m stealing your women! I’m heading back to camp with your women! Back to my tee-pee!” Everyone laughs and is in a good mood, a happy entrance to the confluence with the big river, Chief Lester sang a parting song and then erupted into a chant mid-way, his earthy singing echoing from the rip-rap & the last line of cottonwoods of the north bank Missouri which current we were riding, the trees lined up as if standing in our honor, standing and watching us paddle by after having followed the waters of this river for thousands of miles through untold bends and landscapes, and now to come out on this floodplain still happy and strong, this is something to see and be proud of!

George has a big smile on his face every time I look back, I would have like to have sketched the canoes, and Mato in particular with George, our Grandfather of the West, but the wind demanded too much attention. George, the wise Chinook Grandfather who has sustained us with his gentle but persuasive attitude, who gave us canoes and now we are giving him a place in our canoes to tell his story, even though he is 84 years old he doesn’t need any helping hand. Mike told me later that as Mr. George was entering the canoe from the slippery rip-rap rocks at Columbia Bottom he offered his hand and asked him, “can I help you?” and George waved him off. He is a force of nature. He paddled non-stop, requesting only once quick break, to snap a few photos (!). Upon arrival Mike offered George a log to step on so that he wouldn’t get his boots muddy, to which George responded “I can get out!” and proceeded to plunk both feet in the water and exit.

Now the fun is over and the work begins, we can’t actually hear the thundering Chain of Rocks seven miles downstream and far around the long bend of the mother Mississippi, but we can feel its presence, and with awful gravity it pulls at us relentlessly. The wind has calmed, thankfully, and the three foot crashing waves that Norm Miller earlier reported when he paddled through the confluence have settled down, and now there are only periodic flushings of wind. We rearrange ourselves, those who don’t want to face the fearsome Chain of Rocks get out, we pull out two aluminum canoes, Capt. Ron stays stern in one with Gunny Prow and Bison princess. I lose Chief Lester, Tony and Hannah, but gain Cathy. Mike pushes off with three smokestacks, Moose, Willow and Tommy. The old threesome Scott, Church and Jay reunite again in the Banana Boat which has served them so well and is still slipping gracefully through the water.

As we are pushing off, what’s this? A long glowing wooden canoe appears from upstream the Missouri, sliding through the mingling waters of the confluence and crosses our bows in the current, it’s none other than the irrepressible Jim King – towing his 35 foot long composite barge in preparation for tomorrow, we engage our paddles and dig into the waters, now a mixture of western mud (the Missouri) and northern wetlands (the Mississippi), and quickly catch up, and paddle alongside the determined engineer who exits left into the Chain of Rocks Canal and we continue on downstream, the gargantuan boils of the Mississippi reaching hundreds of feet around, the river is speaking to us, gently, whispering things only the canoes understand completely (and us rivermen try to guess at) Clayton is enthralled and amazed at the newly enlarged scale, and I feel humbled. Only Cathy paddles continually and says nothing, this fact I point out to Tommy “One-Stroke” Eier, whose paddling comes and goes in coughs & fits of thrashing water in between smoke breaks.

Almost all watercraft avoid the chaos of the Chain of Rocks as instructed by a huge US Army Corps sign with an arrow pointing left several miles upriver:

“CANAL:

ALL BOATS

ENTER HERE.”

My first and last time in this deadwater canal (imagine a 12-mile long toilet bowl lined with rip-rap) was back in 1983 when Sean Rowe and I labored through it in our 12x24 raft by sweep oar, a grueling 24 hour ordeal beset by passing tugboats and headwind, we lost most of our gear which didn’t float when a tug upset us in the middle of the night, a corner of the raft got hung up on a rock, the changing water level tilted us out of our sleeping bags (along with all gear not stowed away) into the oily backwater. The memory still disgusts me.

Any paddlers who pass this ominous sign and continue downstream (under the ugly I-270 bridge, and then the rusty & elegant Highway 66 Bridge ) portage river left amidst the roar and spray – and with good reason: at the Chain of Rocks the entire Mississippi River spills over a 10 foot limestone shelf. Imagine the total combined flow of America’s biggest volume river falling smoothly at first quickly pulsing and fragmenting into powerful tongues of water, huge waves, dangerous ripping eddies, whirlpools, and etc. It is a deadly place for paddlers and motorcraft, as demonstrated an hour prior our arrival: as we approached the crescendo from upstream we could see several Coast Guard cutters performing a rescue – it was an foolish motorboat who got caught in the eddies and was stuck there and spun around and around (but luckily not flipped over) until their rescue. Every year paddlers get sucked into the unforgiving hydraulics and are never seen again.

The Captains in the Banana Boat hug bank right contrary to our plans, but what can we say? They are the Captains, they can do whatever they want. Dory Doug (with Video Len) waivers between us and them, and then follows their course, perhaps to ensure their safety (as if they need any help after the thousands of impossible miles they have already logged!). We follow Norm Miller’s advice and stay bank left, completely sheltered from the wind in the lee of Chouteau Island, and slowly make our way towards our inevitable obstacle below, Mike and I remain casual, so as not to alarm anyone, but we alone know the what watery danger lurks beyond the oncoming bridges and what fate might there await us, I make several prayers to wanbli to watch us and guide us, and touch the water gently with my out-stretched hand to feel its motion, its spirit. I hope and pray that our thoughts, our actions, the things we say and our relations with the nations is pleasing to the Great Creator and the Great Creator’s lifeblood, the rivers that we know so well and have seen from 10 inches of freeboard. Bill and Karina paddle alongside us initially, following the curve of Chouteau Island and its tall forest, but then we pull away towards the center, and begin our gradual crossing to line ourselves up with the smoking roar of falling water below. As we cross the river they get smaller and smaller, if not for their red canoe they would have disappeared completely, such is a single person’s spatial influence in a landscape this big.

The river is low, a large shallow sandbar has emerged below the I-270 Bridge at which base we pull up and take a break, the Banana Boat and “put-put-put” Dory Doug catch up, a piling of sand around one of the ponderous pylons, driftwood above and a diminishing sandy tail below with a great view into the top of the Chain. This perspective confirms what I saw yesterday from the bridge walkway, and immediately my intended route for Wanbli River Dancer is confirmed, and I back off to let the others inspect the swirling waters for themselves and draw their own conclusions. Suddenly Mike hollers out, “Wanbli John! Look up! Isn’t that…” Oh-my-gosh! Sure enough! Its Lynn Rubright, the children’s book author who lives in St. Louis, looking over the railing down at us, smiling and throwing us kisses. How did she find us here? How did she know? Or is this another river coincidence? I don’t know, and I don’t care, but now I do know everything is going to be alright. For the moment anyway.

That old salt, Dory Doug is the first to get impatient as he stomps around the sandbar, and snorts out, “you guys are just stalling for time.” Poor Doug, the waiting is not over. We are on river time. We must eat something first. You can’t paddle on an empty stomach. The purple drybag is turned over and everyone snacks on old apples from Ft. Osage, peanut butter and cookies. The captains of each vessel, Mike, Church, Ron, Doug, myself (and of course Scott) confer and make a plan to pass through the first giant swirling and return to land below the wing dam to reconnoiter the passage below. But no one wants to follow plans today, and no one wants to follow any leader. Just another day for rough & ragged 1st Squad.

You shouldn’t rush the river in a place like this. I am wondering who wants to go first, “you want Wanbli to lead the way?,” thinking naturally Wanbli would be the leader as she has always been this entire downstream journey. But no, to my surprise, everyone is excited, and rip-roaring ready and tugging on the lead line to be the first to try their paddling hand against the powerful waters of the big river. Dory Doug jumps to the lead, and brother Tom is horrified, “Doug, are you out of your mind?” Video Len stays with Doug and together they push off and into the unknown, Tom is nervously fretting on the shore, he has already caused Doug a false start, and Doug angrily pushes off again with much cussing, motors into the monstrous tongue leading toward the right bank drop off, and then shuts down the engine and begins to float. We are all stricken at once as if by lightning, has Doug really lost his mind? Is he going to float over the edge? Coast Guard cutters can still be seen in the distance, below the falls, rescuing a bereft motorboat. I felt my stomach drop, like a scary scene in a movie where you know something bad is going to happen, but you don’t know when. But Douggie-boy is playing with us. He is an experienced big river man himself, an animal with plenty of good times in the big roiling waters of the Snake River Canyon, Hell’s Canyon, the Salmon River, and other giants of the West, and he is enjoying his moment of freedom away from the annoying dugouts – finally the leader! His chance to show his balls in face of our greatest danger to date, he remains standing for the longest time as the Dory slides closer and closer to the edge, Tommy on shore is jumping up and down now and yelling for Doug to paddle, and I’m yelling at Tom to shut up and not confuse him, but Doug can’t hear anything, or maybe he can and he is stretching this moment of glory as far as he can, whatever the case, he floats further and further out, deep in the main thrust of water pushing heavily towards the brink, he is standing and seems to be carefully inspecting the topography of the rapids, and then at the last moment when it seems as if surely he is going over, he calmly cranks the engine and “put-put-put” motors his way slowly around the enormous swirl, and is riding the big eddy back toward the St. Louis Waterworks bank right. Len has remained sitting throughout the ride. He is no fool.

But wait a minute! The fun is not over, Ol’ Douggie-boy, the old salt, actually does it – he shuts the engine down again and this time pulls it up entirely out of the water, looks both ways, as if he’s crossing the street, cracks his fingers like a piano player warming up, and places himself proudly behind the long yellow sweep oars – brother Tom is beside himself “ohmigod! Ohmygod! OHMYGOD! He’s gonna do it!” And then Douggie eases over the lip. All eyes are riveted on his passage, and Doug shows out.

The Dory is made for places like this. It comes to life in the waves and bounces through some places that would flip & swamp a dugout canoe, Douggie rides along serene and capable, pulling the sweep oars this way and that, finding the good water, bottoming-out once, he fishtails around some massive obstructions, and then smartly grounds himself on a gravel bar immediately below the falls. The ride is over. Len stands up thoroughly shaken, but composed, and prepares his video camera. Doug doesn’t even look our way, but you can feel his presence hollering out at us, “Who’s Next?”

As on cue, the Banana Boat leaps to action, following the river channel around the wing dam, Jay and the Captains madly stroking the water, they cut the corner near the wing dam and dive directly into the explosive eddying below, teetering and tottering for a moment, they regain balance, realign themselves and angle towards shore, as planned.

Next Capt. Ron is ready to run the gamut with Gunny power-stroker prow and Bison-Bison riding princess, his big black Newfie head hanging over the gunnels and his tongue lolling about out unconcerned, drooling into the river. They follow the path of the Banana Boat, only a little further out. When they break across the eddyline they are near the center of the maelstrom and it spins them mercilessly around a few times, with angry bubbling, I am worried they are going to flip (but Bison isn’t: his fat body is an effective ballast) they paddle quickly in opposite directions to bring themselves around and then continue onward towards shore bank right.

Wanbli and Mato bump the sandbar restlessly, now it’s their turn to prove themselves, Mike and I have already discussed this moment. This place has history with us, in 2002 Mike took the lead in the Red River Bender and I followed in the Cottonwood dugout, the Water Ram, and so today he has graciously allowed me the lead. I will go ahead and he will take sweep. Adrenaline-charged paddlers Idaho Jimmy, Clayton, and our guest Cathy Lagergren are warmed up, we four guide Wanbli into the tongue, flowing Doug’s line, staying well clear of the eddy-line until it seems like we might fall over the edge and then swirl around with the surging waters of the outside of the eddy, it is a dizzying ride, from the distance the current might seem calm and even, but as you are paddling through the middle of it the water accelerates rapidly and then spins clockwise, you can feel the G-force, , if you hadn’t placed yourselves well in the initial tongue, it would push you right over the edge and swallow you up, even in a 23-foot Western Red Cedar or a 27-foot Ponderosa Pine, you are at the mercy of the river. In water like this you get closer to the soul of the river than you ever have been, you become one with the current because no matter how hard you paddle the river has become the master and you the puppet. We swirl around the eddy, our speedy line shoots us past Ron, Bison & Gunny who are still struggling against the eddy flow (but making good headway) we meet again towards the east bank below St. Louis Waterworks where the Banana Boat is riding along, our plan had been to make a landing and scout the next section, but the rebellious Banana Boat is ready to rock, Jay and the Captains Suddenly dig in as we approach and enter the roller-coaster ride bank right! They’ve decided to go ahead. Damn the scouting! The Captains are having their fun today! It’s a narrow & defined channel, with a few drops and some 3 foot waves, you have to hit the first wave close to shore, further out it curls mercilessly over a sucking hole, they paddle along boisterously and we watch.

Back to Mike & Mato Chante: Looking upstream we see Mato enter the tongue of water as we had, staying with the main thrust away from the edge of the wing dam, but even further out towards the point of no-return, and again I am struck in the pit of my stomach with awful visions of the hard-headed bear disregarding all dangers for a jump in the big water to play in the rapids, (his last chance maybe) we don’t call him “rock eater” for no reason, and yes, he hard-headedly pushes the men to the extreme of their abilities and follows the widest trajectory possible outward around the circumference of the eddy, toward the black hole of the Chain of Rocks, from where canoes and men don’t return, and the men are in high gear, one-stroke Eier screaming and putting every ounce of his 40 horse-power into throwing water down one side of the canoe, Willow throwing water down the other, Mike power-stroking low and grim, the end of his black Stetson pulled almost to his chin, making fast deep strokes with Mick Jagger, one side and then the other, positioning the canoe, and then repositioning, and then ruddering quickly & strongly to manually push the bear’s nose away from the falls toward the center of the eddy, if he slips at this moment then the bear will have its way and all will go tumbling over the muddy falls, but the Mato Chante allows himself to be nudged into the relative safety inside the eddy, and they come swirling alongside us, whooping and hollering.

Meanwhile, the Banana Boat is bravely bouncing into the first big wave bank right, but then our cheering turns to shouts of fear, I hand the Eagle to Clayton to hold her steady and jump out with the Rescue Bag and start running. Tommy is madly side-paddling for shore, but they are still too deep to jump out, Mike is yelling for him to paddle forward so they can regain footing. The Banana Boat has gone over in the first wave, the men are thrown out and we watch in horror as they struggle to regain footing. The riverbed is shallow here, rocky but shallow, the water volume greatly reduced, and it seems like they might be able to right themselves, but then they go over the second wave and are tumbled over several times, it looks like they might be getting crushed by the canoe over the rocks, Mike jumps out with his Rescue Rope and follows me stumbling down the jumbled rip-rap of the right bank, we stumble-jump-sprint halfway down, maybe a hundred yards, while the Banana Boat rolls to end of the rapids, and then into an eddy below, and we can see the men regain their footing and stand up and holler triumphantly. Scott makes a “thumbs-up.” Whew! A few bruised shoulders and legs, we learn later, but no other injury.

I’ve seen enough. We have a precious paddler with us today, Cathy Lagergren, and I refuse to put her life in any danger. We line Wanbli River Dancer down the passage, an easy task, I take stern rope, Jimmy takes lead, Clayton and Cathy walk alongside to keep Wanbli from scraping rocks. Cathy has some difficulty wading through a silty creek which pours from some overflow pipe bank right which we are forced to march through, hopefully nothing toxic within, but otherwise we quickly line through and pull into the eddy below. The Banana Boat exits to go retrieve gear. We look above and see the Grumman sailing along into the waves – Captain Ron & Gunny have opted to run the fun! They have put their precious “princess-paddler,” Bison-Bison ashore. They bounce over the first set of waves, and then Ron angles out away from the bank. What he can’t see from above is the steep drop at the base of the last set of waves, and it gets higher & deeper & more turbulent the further out you go. It’s one of those hungry holes that stops vessels in their passage. If you hit it hard enough maybe your momentum will carry you through and over the foam. But if you go too slow you will be sucked in and thrashed. Ron is ruddering so all canoe speed depends on Gunny Bill’s power stroking. As they approach the last big wave I notice Gunny suddenly stop paddling and drop to his knees – apparently he has seen the big wave and drop-off below for the first time and prepares for the worst. Gunny doesn’t resume paddling but grabs both gunnels with his hands. The poor Grumman rises over the top of the last wave, it’s only three feet tall, but there’s a three foot drop off underneath it (and the hydraulic pool below might be ten feet deep), so the canoe rises high prow first, bounced by the abrupt wave, Gunny Bill still clinging on for dear life, shoots over the wave, headed for the cloudy sky, and then plummets head-first into the pool below. The canoe goes down head-over-tail and then is flushed out of the hole, Ron & Gunny are holding onto the side of the canoe and whooping & laughing, so we know they’re okay, but then they stop laughing as their canoe gets pulled into the main current below, I have the rescue bag ready in hand, which I throw with all my might high over the canoe, its zings out completely to the end of the 75 feet of 3/8 inch cord and Gunny Bill gets a hand hold and I yell for my canoe-mates to get ready and then we pull them in and flip the canoe to empty it of water. Once righted, Ron & Gunny paddle off to retrieve paddles and gear, all paddles are rescued (Idaho Jimmy’s main concern, he hand-crafted them), and I think most gear, and yes, sigh, Wilson.

Now Mike and crew come slowly down the bank, following our lead, they line Mato Chante through the rapids, hungry Mato the bear wants to eat the waves and tear up some rocks, but they are keeping him on a short leash and carefully maneuver him through the waves, and back to land at the eddy below, and he begrudgingly complies.

We are through the Chain of Rocks! Wow! Whew! What a relief! Waves of relief and tearful emotion well up through me, I am thinking of Sarah and the Mighty Quapaws who must be nearing our landing, not far below. What a thrilling climax – 810 miles of paddling down the free flowing Lower Missouri River with a crazy rapids at the end! Hee-hee! My cell phone rang amidst the bank side celebration, it’s Dale, faithful Dale had walked out to t middle of the 66 Bridge and had seen us flip and wanted to know if we were okay, or should he call the Coast Guard.

The Mighty Quapaws are awaiting us at the landing, Cliff, Woody, Boo, Ba-ba and Dinky wandering the sandy shoreline, we give them a cheer, “The Mighty Quapaws!” and stop for hullos and hugs and then continue down to where the Mighty Possum and elder bluesman Mississippi Junebug is awaiting our arrival. Later, the Quapaws biggest memory of the day was of Bison, in Dinky’s words: “on one of the boats there was this huge dog – I was scared but the dog was trained so I didn’t have anything to be scared of!” Mom & Daddy (who had also driven 400 miles from Clarksdale) are safely tucked in at a downtown hotel, in the distance we can see Bill & Karina slipping along down opposite shore in their unmistakable red Mohawk canoe, they had portaged bank left in about the same time it took us to peruse, paddle, and perform 2 rescues, and lo-and-behold! we also spy “LG2” AKA Lee Squared floating downstream nearby, going strong after disassembling and then reassembling their 7x28 foot raft, a 3-hour portage for them. And Look! There’s Norm Miller, smartly paddling his baby blue In the Wake of Discovery canoe-yak across the channel to meet us, the flotilla is coming together after the exciting day, the momentum gathering for tomorrow’s Canoe Rendezvous and Homecoming. Scott runs out with Doug to retrieve Lee Squared who have somehow scooted beyond our landing.

The river gods smiled on us! We are safely through our most dangerous single obstacle. Tornadoes struck Crystal City and points south, blew apart a mobile home park with grapefruit-sized hail, we could see the storms brewing all day long, but they stayed south, the eddyline of the heavens a diagonal over the Arch and downtown St. Louis, supercells gathering storming and then passing on northeasterly along the eddyline while we played on the fluid eddylines of the river, always we could see the opening beyond, a patch of blue or yellow, so we knew we were close to the edge, but we didn’t know how close. Super cells and severe thunderstorms passing over the river downstream of us, bluish-purple manna falling from the heavens, becoming tinged rosy reds & oranges with the setting sun – and then we all had our spirits uplifted with a series of rainbows which danced through the dangerous clouds much as Wanbli River Dancer and even old grumpy Mato Chante had danced through the dangerous waters, if you look close enough you will find great beauty in the most surprising of places.

After getting Sarah, Mara and the Quapaws settled at camp Ft. Dubois (the Quapaws most impressed by the Tee Pees and Bison Bicentennial, Woody said “I went outside and there was a black shadow on the ground; I thought it was a bear, but it turned out to be Bison, asleep on the ground!”), I returned to Riverfront Landing in my wife’s metallic blue Toyota Echo at dark, drug dealers and gang-bangers spread throughout the parking lot above, I slipped down the trash-littered ramp and around a pile of bed frames & some big muddy logs, and then down a one-lane path through the tall weeds below and found Norm & Mike with a fire going. “Ahoy,” I yelled, “I come bearing gifts – red wine and eggs & bacon!” It was all I could quickly locate, but it hit the spot, we cracked the ½ gallon bottle of merlot Keith Locke gifted me, and started frying a pound of bacon in one of Mike’s pots. Ooh-whee! To be on the river with a fire and food coming, the water happily slapping the docked canoes, the raft rubbing bank nearby, Norm’s canoe-yak pulled up above, all of us river-worn and happy to be alive, to be together on this last evening, to be camped one last night on the edge of the river, the best place to be (if you asked any one of us) in all of St. Louis, even for Wanbli Mike, who lives there, and for me, whose wife is camped nearby, this was our night for sharing and celebration, we had done our work and the river had blessed us with a beautiful evening, storms receding in the distance, downtown St. Louis glowing behind Mosenthein Island, the bacon sizzling & popping, a fire warming our cold fingers and muddy feet, endless glasses of wine taken in the only vessels we could find, the recycled plastic water bottles I had cut open and employed as paint-pots for my water colors, which had cupped painting water from St. Helen’s Oregon to Livingston Montana to the confluence, and so it was a fitting vessel for a celebratory drink, in one swallow we tasted the Columbia, the Yellowstone, and the Missouri from our one-night hovel on the Middle Mississippi, we toasted once, and then again, and again, Norm kept saying, “I can’t believe I’m here on the edge of the biggest city in the Missouri Valley” and then “I can’t believe I’m here with you guys, I’m so glad I met you guys. Can you believe how this all happened?” More wine. More driftwood for the fire. The bacon crispy, I cracked two dozen eggs two at a time popping into the pot without removing any grease, swirled the concoction until it firmed, and then pulled it out of the coals to cool. 8 eggs each. 8 slices of bacon. We ate it with the last of the Ukrainian Rye Bread John Moore had brought us at Taylor Access, and washed it down with red wine & water. Norm later commented, “Yeah that bacon and egg supper spiked my blood cholesterol from 98 to 560 but it was worth it!” (John Ruskey)

Rivergator Appendix VI

Mark River Rivergator Blogs

St. Louis born Mark “River” Peoples grew up hunting and fishing along the river with his father. These blogs come from two Rivergator Exploratory expeditions in 2014, one in high water of April and one in the low water of November.

Rivergator Chronicles: St. Louis to Cairo, Ill- The Shuttle

It's three in the morning. Downtown Clarksdale is silent. Only the distant sound of stray dogs barking while they make their routine dumpster checks at the local restaurants. The Quapaws are packed ready for their fall expedition from St. Louis to Cairo, Ill. Quapaw pet, "Shady Cat", slowly walks over and lays on the nearby trailer checking to see whats going on or trying to get one more bowl of milk before we part ways. The north wind puts a chill in the air as I check my cell phone for the time. Shuttle drivers Ellis"Smooth"Coleman and Reilly are running a little late, but it's the Delta, and I'm somewhat use to that.I take the opportunity to have one more cup of ginger tea to warm my stomach knowing this would be the coldest expedition to date.

They finally arrive. Both are tall, lean, ex-basketball players born an raised in the Delta, now Mighty Quapaws and Red's Juke Joint employees. Working together, keeping each other company, while they shuttle us to downtown St.Louis to start our journey. I set my alarm on my cellphone so I won't miss crossing the Memphis Bridge to get my first glimpse of the Mississippi River at sunrise. It doesn't disappoint, as I smile while Ellis shakes his head in enjoyment. You see, every time I get close to the River , I can't help but smile, and Ellis has witnessed this behavior many times before.

We enter the Missouri Boothill. Even though a winter blast of cold has set in across the midwest, the rolling hills of southeast Missouri are bountiful and beautiful with the trees and fauna exploding with versions of red,purple,yellow, pink, and orange only seen in the natural world. Healthy hawks stand tall in the colorful, vibrant trees overlooking the highway hoping to spot an unaware rodent grazing in the grasses between the foliated limestone bluffs. Turkey vultures soar high over the rolling hills and grasslands. It's the start of hunting season in Missouri and we spot smart, experienced deer bedded down close to the highway in the thicket waiting out the season. Due to their winter coats, they could barely be seen. Ellis can't believe it, not ever seeing deer behave in this manner in the Delta where the highways are blanketed by crops of corn, cotton, soybeans, wheat, and milo.

We pass exits to historic river towns like Caruthersville, New Madrid, Cape Girardeau, and St.Genivieve as we get closer to highway 67 which leads to my family compound. I think about my Dad, hoping he has enough firewood to get through the winter. I predict that he's probably feeding the chickens , ducks, and fish before heading to town to get the newspaper. The thermometer inside the truck continues to drop as we get closer an closer to our destination.

We reach the Meramac River. Growing up in St. Louis, this river symbolizes the divide between North and South counties , somewhat how the railroad tracks use to separate the cultures of the Delta. I start to reminisce about my childhood and not being accepted for who I was, until I showed my prolific athletic ability. I've never understood how many young men sacrifice their minds, bodies, and souls for ten to twenty years , then to be told they don't have the experience or skill to be payed a competitive salary in the real world, while coaches continue to prosper from the success of their former athletes. Athletics teaches you discipline, fortitude, self worth , self-esteem, grit, character, work ethic, and to be an unselfish team player. If it wasn't for participating in football, basketball, and track; I wouldn't be the Quapaw leader, river guide, teacher, canoe builder, and river steward I am today.

We bend with the highway and I see a welcoming site-the Gateway Arch. My emotions flow cause I know it's time. Time to focus on the mission in conditions not favorable for paddling. The temperature is barely above twenty degrees and storms are expected throughout the expedition. I feel as if I'm getting ready to play football, but this is for humanity. I have the opportunity to be apart of documenting, mapping, and exploring the islands, sandbars, and back channels of one of the most celebrated waterways of the world. To share this incredible river with humanity at www.rivergator.org is an honor and duty as a steward of this great river. A river that has sustained many cultures for centuries and was the key component in the building of our great nation. Thinking about all these factors, all I could do is smile. -Mark River

Rivergator Chronicles: St. Louis to Cairo, Ill- Elements and the Log

We pull into St. Louis. The cobblestone riverfront brings back memories of fishing with my father and late nights with high school and college friends. I meet our expedition partner, Tom, a videographer from Washington University of St. Louis. A prestigious university, who offered me an academic scholarship to play football out of high school, but I couldn't afford the application fee. They didn't give athletic scholarships, so you had to have the grades to earn an academic scholarship. Tom and his concerned father greeted us. To break the ice, we talked about the rivers of Missouri like the Huzzah, the Current, the Meramac, the Osage-and the White River in Arkansas, which we both grew up exploring. His plan was to document this expedition to introduce the Rivergator water trail to the masses in the surrounding area. We equipped him with a wetsuit and boots because the water temperature has dipped below sixty degrees.

It's twenty-two degrees. The wind is gusting out of the south at twenty-five miles and hour. It's so cold that the shuttle drivers refuse to leave the vehicle. The Port of St. Louis is busy with towboats and barges, while waves are white capping in the channel. A service boat heads directly towards us. I hope it's not the Coast Guard knowing these are dangerous conditions are not manageable by novice paddlers.

Two men yell out," What are you guys doing?"

I respond with confidence," We're headed to Cairo!"

They respond sarcastically," Good luck?"

Assuming we knew what we were getting into, they continued on . The boat is packed and lowered into the channel, as we say goodbyes to our land crew. We paddle out to the middle of the channel. The white caps are bigger than observed from the shore. Our light weight canoe feels like we're paddling through cement. The headwinds, temperature, white caps, towboats, and barges makes the River confused and defiant. Our plan of a twenty mile day has change drastically and doubt starts to creep into my mind. Waves and swells are crashing into the sides of the canoe, causing sprays of water, which freeze upon contact with my Filson wool overalls. I look down at my overalls, and they are frozen and feel like cardboard. My dreadlocks are frozen, as they scrape the side of my face, causing minor irritations and abrasions. My face feels like leather, as the wind and sun combine , causing a burning cocktail.

I settle down, as the sweet sounds of the seagulls sooth my mind. I realize that I would be fine. The combination of my wetsuit and wool overalls were keeping me warm and I'm doing exactly what I was born to do. We agree that we've had enough. Hunger has set in, burning extra fuel, do to the elements at hand. It's fall, so the sun is setting fast, and we need to find a campsite to protect us through an arctic-like night. We pick a spot across a luxurious neighborhood on a high bluff. The home must be owned by an artist-as a sculpture of a woman with unusually long legs , dive into a pool.

The sandbar is littered with driftwood, frozen solid in the sand. We set up tents on the bluff in the forest to stop the frigid south wind. We dig firewood out of the permafrost type environment and make a needed fire. Instantly the feelings in my toes and hands come alive. I never appreciated a fire more than now. I stare at the fire and I write this poem.

The grandfather log,

so perfect in size,

a symmetrical cylinder.

Part of the tree of life.

Floating downriver from where?

Preserved and seasoned,

with its soul not settled.

So we free its soul by burning.

Benefiting from its warmth,

that frees my soul,

around the fire. Mark River

St. Louis Riverfront

Growing up in St.Louis, one of the highlights of the city is its riverfront. In elementary school, the field trip of the year was to visit the Arch and take a ride on the Admiral. The Admiral was a sold out attraction. You had to reserve your trip months ahead of time. The Admiral had a signature song called the "Hoky Poky" in which everyone sang at the top of their lungs . It was the main event and conclusion of the field trip.

As I got older, my dad would take us to the St. Louis Cardinal baseball and football games. The ritual was, get there early and spend some time by the River before and after the game. Busch Stadium was only a modest walk from the Arch and Riverfront, so many made the park part of the day. Laclede's Landing was the food and beverage district where everyone visited before and after games.

Coming into my teenage years, we would express our independence by spending many nights sitting on the Arch stairs gazing into the River with our favorite girl. We would walk from the Arch through the Riverfront, through Laclede's Landing , and do it over and over. We didn't have much money, so it was the thing to do. During the high school football season, the playoffs where held at Busch Stadium, so if your team did well, you got the chance to play in the stadium. Over the years they landlocked the Admiral and it went from a McDonald's to a Burger King, eventually being removed for good.

The music scene in St. Louis was vibrant when the nightclub, Mississippi Nights, hosted up and coming bands on there way to stardom. They had a under 21 section so we could see great bands and watch the mischief that went along with coming of age. It has been closed since the 90's , but everyone remembers the iconic club.They also had a club called Muddy Waters that hosted blues bands from all over. St. Louis is still a blues town.

The Riverfront is also the location for the VP Fair held every year during the week of the 4th of July. The host bands from all over for a free week of music and sun. Boats fill the port and it's one of the biggest gatherings of its kind. During the summer months, every weekend they have free music. It is the place to be in St. Louis. -Mark River

Madison County, Ill

People always ask me, "Where you from?" I say "St. Louis", but realistically, I come from both sides of the Mississippi River. Born in a hospital in East St. Louis, my family settle in a historical Madison County, Illinois consisting of little river towns like Venice, Madison, and my town, Brooklyn. These towns thrive on fishing the Mississippi River and semi pro baseball, which each town had a team. My grandparents lived across the River close to the Chain of Rocks where I spent my time when mom and dad worked. I was merely eight years old when we moved to North County, MO. So when people ask me that question, I just want to say, "I'm from the River."

Growing up along the Mississippi River was a blessing. In these towns, it seemed that if you where not at work or school, we were fishing and exploring along the River. I remember digging for night crawlers in mosquito infested floodplains right before we made it to the channel to fish. Hobo's and river rats up and down the gravel roads looking for bait, tackle, and most times, monetary supplements to help with their refreshments. My father would dress us in coveralls during the heat of the summer to protect us from the insects. If the fishing was good, we weren't leaving soon.

The section of the River we fished extended from the south entrance of Chain of Rocks Canal to the Mckinley Bridge. In recent years industries have claimed these spots, but locals say they are still spots you can get to. I remember catching lots of catfish, buffalo, and white bass. When it flooded we would walk through the muddy floodplain and grab fish stranded in deep depressions. There were times when fishermen would go to popular localities and lay the fish along truck beds for sale. A lot of times families on hard times always had a freezer full of fish. Up north, there is a very dense populations of yellow perch. They were a prize fish during their annual run, but with the infrastructure of the upper Mississippi River, they are few and far between these days. My dad would bait my line with three hooks and there were times when we would catch them three at a time for an hour straight. We also would go north of Mosenthein Island, noth of the Chain of Rocks and snag spoonbill catfish on their way to the Missouri-Mississippi River confluence, in route to ancient spawning grounds in the tributaries of the Missouri River. Spoonbill catfish are filter feeders so snagging and netting is the only way to catch these succulent fish. Many times when the fishing was slow, my dad would simply say, "Go play." Those were the moments when the natural world became my playground. The moments I develop my athletic ability. I would grab a stick, transform it to a motorcross handlebar and scale muddy banks, hurdle driftwood, and practice sprinting in the sand and mud.

One evening the fish were biting into the night and dad wasn't leaving. Suddenly, a large object kept reappearing in the current and my father started wondering what it could be. It wasn't abnormal to see pigs, cows, and other animals in the River. Then there was a splash. We knew then, it was a beaver. My dad wanted the beaver for his tail. It could be use as a sharpening tool. In order to stay in good graces with the Creator, we knew we had to eat it if we caught it. Dad signals for me to go to the car and get his pistol, which he kept in the tackle box for family safety. We were taught never go in the wild without a weapon. I retrieve the pistol, tearing up for the poor beaver, and gave it to my father. One shot and the beaver disappears into the eddy. He then pulls out a huge treble hook and snags the animal, pulling it to shore. The weekend comes around when neighbors are having fish fry's and barbecues. My dad smokes the beaver in hickory and passes it out to the neighborhood as roast beef. Everyone enjoyed it until I told my 2nd grade class about it and it went viral. We got dirty looks for months.

The elementary school I attended was named after Elijah Parish Lovejoy, a minister, journalist,and abolitionist. He was born in Maine, but move to Alton where he owned a warehouse and printing press. During the Civil War, speaking against slavery, he was murdered by a pro-slavery mob in Alton . His printing press was thrown into the Mississippi River. If you are ever in Madison County, don't be surprised if you meet someone named Elijah. Like most river towns, Madison County has its seedy places, but if you are ever close, stop in and have St. Louis style chinese food. It's the best in the nation!

Mark River

The Meramac River and Hopper's Marina

Growing up in the St. Louis North Suburbs, we always would hear wild stories about the Meramac River. Many schools visited the beautiful parks along this swift deceptive waterway. Like the railroad tracks in the Delta, the Meramac River was the definitive divide between north and south counties. During the spring, wild party boats from towns like Festus, Fenton, Kimmswick, and Barnhart littered the boat ramps. Before the crackdown on excessive partying, this was the place to be for lawlessness. The River's channels become fierce during high water, with the water rushing between high bluffs before slowing before the confluence with the Mississippi River. Every year sadly, there are accounts of novice swimmers being swept away wading in waters with a deceptively strong current. During the VP Fair in St. Louis, most of the boaters avoid the busy downtown access and use the Meramac access.

Entering the Mississippi River and headed downstream, you come across one the oldest marina's on the River. Hopper's Marina has been launching and supplying boaters for 80 years. This is the only marina located on the main channel along the Middle Mississippi River. The Hopper's are very nice people and don't deserve the infamous label the have received through the years. It's a great place for canoes and kayaks to take break on the sandy bluffs before the marina. You can resupply on water and other beverages. The closest town in historical Kimmswick. Hopper's an old man now, but still has stories and a deep passion for the River.

Earlier this year on our spring www.rivergator.org expedition I had the pleasure to meet the Hopper's and when I approach him recently he remembered me. He seemed more relax than when we first met. He was in a heated battle with the Corps of Engineers about the location of two wing dikes downstream from his marina. They slowed the water down shallowing his marina channel. The dikes where place there to save the beautiful homestead on the bluffs downstream, but has put stress on his business. Apparently, things are better. He had a successful summer and had a smile on his face to show it. He laughed at our decision to canoe in frigid conditions, but you can tell his love and respect for the Mississippi River. We talked river miles and said our goodbyes. See you next year. Mark River

Island Explorations

The sun is shining today even though the wind is still brisk and cold. The eagles fly over as if an ordinary day, while we cruise around Foster Island enjoying the views of the bluff neighborhoods like Herculaneum. In the distance you can see a large eagles nest, giving the optical elusion of being right amongst a heron rookery. The trees are wind blown , so all the leaves blanket the landscape and the bluffs seem to blend with the trees.

We stop at Calico Island for lunch and exploring. I find another persimmon tree with fruit at its base, so I get my fill and move on. We come upon Osbourne Island with a unique designed revetment and wing dikes. The dikes are notched for fish migrating to their natural spawning grounds. Fish like sturgeon, spoonbill catfish, and buffalo are sensitive when time to spawn having to travel long distances to reproduce.

We paddle along and see a large structure in the distant. We land to find an old barge(LBD) that has been silted in to the sandbar. Maybe landlocked during the 2011 flood, it was halfway buried with coyote tracts of all kinds scattered through the wreck. The sun starts to dim so we see a eagle sitting high in the trees on Salt Lake Island. We pick a campsite, while we marvel at the heron rookery in the distance that was 100 nests strong. The only time to spot these rookeries is in the winter after the trees have fallen.

We camp at the bottom of the towhead across from Fort Chartres chute, with a beautiful view of the River and the bluffs. We enjoy a meal of roasted pork chops and fried potatoes , while numerous coyote packs serenade each other in the distance.

I take a walk in the morning down the Fort Chartres chute and look to the sky to see over 50 herons leaving the rookery headed towards the River. When they spotted me , they "parted like the Red Sea." This was one of my most spectacular wildlife encounters ever. -Mark River

Jones Towhead

The morning starts with a short paddle to Chester, Illinois. The day is misty and wet as we stop and resupply. River lovers are parked along the bluffs watching towboats and adventures past the home of Popeye the Sailor. The trees on the Chester bluffs are still holding leaves, contrasting beautifully with the surrounding colors of fall. A surveying boat pulls up to the ramp. Hired by the Coor of Engineers to find troubled spots along the towbaat channel. We strike up conversation and give them a poster of the water trail from St. Louis to the Gulf of Mexico.

The temperature is dropping so paddling is the best way to beat the cold and wet. We paddle past Rockwood Island headed for Liberty Bar and Jones Towhead. Even though it rained all day, the trees and bluffs were full of bald eagles. They produced thirteen sightings and made me deal with the elements better watching how nonchalantly the eagles handled the weather. During low water the top of the island is a big sandbar with a substantial distant to the trees. If you continue to the bottom, there is a back channel that allows entry to the same sandbars. There's a old revetment dike, made of wood, that you can float over and enter. A small island, but lots of wildlife.A good place to camp to get away from the north wind. A large beaver the size of a small bear cub greeted us. A lone buck scampered up the cut bank. He was bedded down waiting out the hunting season. The back channel also has some type of wreck expose in the cut bank left bank descending along the back channel. Some very old woodworking structures. -Mark River

Jones Towhead to Cottonwood Island

We paddle around Mclean Point to along stretch consisting of a series of islands LBD. La Cours, and Hat islands bring you to Gills Point. Gills point opens into a Fountain Bluffs igneous out crop of boulders. During low water be careful of the slightly submerged boulders and a extensive set of weirs. Once cleared of the Bunge Corporation docks, you will see Tower Rock in the distance. Grand Tower Park is LBD with a beautiful manicured beach, with camping and extended stay set up for RV’S. Water is accessible. Grand Tower is a special section of the River. With its unique rock formations, Tower Rock being the monumental feature of the town. Even the sandbars have a combination of luscious beaches and gravel bars. Many of the gravel bars have outcrops compositions not seen anywhere else along the River. Just past Grand Tower and Tower Rock lies Cottonwood Island RBD with high bluffs sandbars. Sand bars that will have you exploring and studying all day . The bottom end of the island has a tall cut bank perfect protection from a northwest wind. -Mark River

Cottonwood Island to Burnham Island

A very long, strait section of the Mississippi River. All the islands are LBD while the bluffs and the San Francisco Railroad border to the right. Big Muddy, Crawford, and Hanging Dog Islands are beautiful islands with clean beaches, plenty of drift wood, and deciduous forest full of wildlife. A great section of the River to view the majestic bald eagle. The high bluffs are ideal for this preditory bird. Trail of Tears State Park has a lookout tower over looking this beautiful stretch. Passing Vancill Towhead, Dusky Bar, and Devils Island will bring you into Cape Girardeau. Beware of heavy towboat traffic coming into Cape Girardeau. The channel is very slender and the infastructure of weirs and wing dikes cause very confusing water. From there, two small bends around Marquette Islands and Rock Island bring you into Thebes. A quiet town with hunting and fishing being a way of life. Very interesting outcrop is exposed during low water with igneous boulders. One special boulder has ancient indian writing. Camping along this stretch is challenging with most spots being accessible by locals. Continued to paddle Burnham Island where you can enjoy quiet camping with the animal and stars. -Mark River

Beaver Island

We awake in the morning after enjoying our first night above freezing. The sun is shining , but the wind is prevalent as we paddle through long bends and endless towboat traffic. It's a very uneventful day as a lone eagle relaxes in the tall trees along Turkey Island. Their demeanor correlates with our moral as the water is confused and choppy from the combination of wind and towboat traffic. Eventually making our way towards Baustark Towhead , headed for St. Genevieve Bend..

We pick a camp destination of Beaver Island. It's located on the right bank which is usually Missouri, but the River has change its course over decades so the island is in Illinois. Located across from the Kaskaskia River State Park. The tall trees are great protection from the south wind. During low water, a gravel bar appears along with long stretches of sand as you get closer to the trees. During deer season, don't be surprised to see hunters with boats tied to the wing dikes. The Illinois season starts the third weekend in November. Gravel beds filled with lithified mud, crinoids, and rare fossils like septarian concretions and the rare carnelian. The town of Chester, Illinois is 9 miles downriver where you can resupply or go into town and take a picture with the statue of Popeye the Sailor! Chester is the home of this cartoon icon. -Mark River

Beard Island

The day starts to end as we paddle pass the Meramac River and Hopper's Marina. Since passing the Meramac River we had already spotted nine bald eagles soaring high the sky, some perch high in the abandon dead trees overseeing river activity and guiding us along the way. Three different kinds of gulls and two osprey remind me of how bountiful the Mississippi River is to humanity and the wild kingdom.

My heart is warm, even though it's very cold out, being able to feel my mother's presence as we paddled by Jefferson Barracks Cemetery . Her bodies buried there , but her soul lives through me. A red tail hawk stands tall in the trees approaching Beard Island, a symbol that she's watching me. I adopted hawks when I was young because every time I would sit along the cutbanks downstream from Chain of Rocks, I would see one. Later on through college, hawks would be along Highway 70 headed towards the University of Central Missiouri. We come upon the bottom of the island and the sun is setting. There's a lone eagle in the trees. This looks like the spot.

We exit the canoe , going in different directions, exploring the possibilities for camp that evening. I walk into the woods slowly and in the distant a broad of turkeys 20 deep are foraging the forest floor, while the Tom struts for the females. They feel my presence a slowly disappear into the woods. Pilated woodpeckers carve into the stumps of dead trees. The sounds of the woods is vibrant.

We decide upon camping in the forest to block us from the frigid wind. Our view is highlighted by the homesteads on the rolling hills across the channel. Small authentic neighborhoods like Glen Park, Bushberg, and Riverside make a beautiful silhouette when the sun is setting .

The fire is warm , while the stew simmers in the pot. Coyotes comb the beach close to our canoe, while raccoons fight in the forest. Sounds of life rule the night. A large buck walks through camp snorting and displaying characteristics of the rut. We wake in the morning with everything frozen, while a lone eagle sits high in a old cottonwood. I take a sip of ginger tea and let it flow through my bloodstream and say cheers to my friend.

- Mark River

Missouri Portland Cement

One of the major influences in my river life was growing up near Missouri Portland Cement. In the 1930's through the 1970's my grandfather drove the train cars which transported the smaller portions rock and limestone from the quarry across Scranton Dr. to the conveyor belt, which in turn would be sorted by size and used accordingly. The big portions would be hauled by dump trucks down to the Mississippi River onto barges. Missouri Portland Cement use to have the first barge dock after the Chain of Rocks were built in the 1960's.

In the seventies as a very young boy, I remember a bustling neighborhood adjacent to the quarry and plant. You could feel the earth move from the quarry one block away from my grandparents home which they bought in the 1930's. This neighborhood,"Riverview", was built around an orchard of fruit trees. Peach, plum, apple, and pear trees littered the surrounding area. My grandparents had three peach trees and one pear tree. I would spend my time climbing these trees feasting on fruit. Sometimes I would eat the green apples to early and get a stomach ailment my grandma called the "flux", a fancy word for constipation. The quarry on dry days would create dust clouds , which made the Mississippi River look like it was on fire. My parents home was built on a bluff they called Prospect Hill. There was a church by that name where I was baptized in 1977. If you walk through this neighborhood today, there are families of many workers still living in the surrounding homes. You can still find fruit trees, and if you look closely, you can still see the outline of the foundation of Prospect Hill Baptist Church. Big Muddy Adventures is located behind this old plant with its peach and pear trees still bearing fruit.

After my grandfather retired in the 1970's, the plant changed its name to Lafarge, eventually closing its doors in the late 1980's. There was talk of imploding the whole site, but the threat of asbestos poisoning saved the structure. It was purchase by artist Bob Cassilly in 2000 and was being converted to a amusement-like park, "Cementland", until his untimely death in 2011. -Mark River

Bob Cassilly Funeral

The day is sunny and the mood is easy as we come together to remember one of North County's finest. The days approaching this moment had been chaotic in disbelief of a man that was larger than life. Everything was big in his life. His art, his vision, and most certainly his hands. I remember meeting Bob. Myself and ex-athlete, strong and confident, but when I shook his hands for the first time, I felt weak and small. So strong. I felt as if his hands reached my elbows. Strength built up from years of working with concrete. He knew of my grandfather and his connection to his biggest project Cementland. He knew I spent my childhood exploring the River. He knew I had spied on him and his crew-the Cassilly Crew working long hours. He knew that the neighborhood in which he planned his biggest project to date, was dear to my heart. His vision of creating a wonderland in our neighborhood that would draw people from all over the world was achievable. The plan was to build an amusement type park with bicycle rentals and canoe rentals. He planned a crosswalk that would lead to the River. He planned to convert old homes into living quarters for guest who wanted to spend long outings enjoying the park and the River. He would provide canoe excursions from the confluence, through the Chain of Rocks. He would save our beautiful slice of river from the building of casinos that fleece communities of monetary income.

These conversations floated through crowd as the volunteers scrambled to pull off a funeral that was bigger than life itself. Myself, working diligently with Scott Mandrell constructing a huge teepee on the grounds for friends and fellow artist to engage and share their favorite memories of Bob. Others worked on building a cross that rose high in the sky that would be burned after the service. Artist from around the world arrived with elaborate outfits. The fire and police departments manage the environment, making sure everyone is safe, and observing the structure and the pyrometrical elements involved.

The plan was to load family and close friends into canoes, then float down to Bob's property and release his ashes into the River. The time had come. The sun is starting to set as the Junebug canoe is loaded with family. Seven canoes floating downriver towards onlookers holding candles lining an old barge dock . The site was so surreal, that I couldn't hold back the tears. The River cut-banks full of people sobbing and holding each other. This man had affected many lives.

I felt a strong connection that night with the River. I used to stare at Bob's boat landlocked on top of the hill at Cementland. I was that boat. Change was upon us. It was real. I knew that I wouldn't be around much longer. I knew that the River had plans for me. We sat in the teepee admiring a huge bonfire so fierce that fire department hung around all night. It was the best funeral I ever witnessed. No one left to the sun came up. When the sun finally rose, I walked down to the River and dedicated my life to the River and hoped that someday my ashes would be poured into the Mississippi River.

- Mark River

The Flood of 1993

In between football tryouts in 1993, I had the opportunity to fly back to St.Louis and observe the infamous flood. Growing up between the confluence of two great rivers and downtown St. Louis, I was anxious to see what the Mississippi River looked like when it reclaimed its natural floodplain. I wasn't disappointed as the River reach to the bluffs. Riverview Dr. was closed and only locals in that area were aloud to access the neighborhood by john boats and canoes. Looking from the bluff on which Missouri Portland Cement rest, you could see how vast the natural floodplain reached. Moseithein Island was underwater with just the tops of the largest trees exposed with its back channel not distinguishable. The Chain of Rocks low water dam was unrecognizable. The confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers was a wild ocean-like area with displaced farms and equipment scattered throughout. The field in which I grew up practicing football was underwater. The golf course which graced the land below the 270 bridge was wiped out. Deer and other mammals were pushed into the neighborhoods, flooding the streets at night. Accidents skyrocketed along the roadways. Local fisherman took advantage of the incredible flood. The fish went on a spawning frenzy, moving up the streams and creeks making themselves accessible to anglers. People were catching lunkers out of their backyard creeks. Hand fisherman were crawling through the shallow streams pulling catfish out of logs and other obstructions. Waterfowl filled the shallows feasting on newborn fry.

As the water receded, new gravel beds were exposed and sandbars reappeared in unusual areas. Small depressions within the landscape were full of fish. Locals in gallowses and waders pulled huge buffalo and grass carps out of these depressions. Many farmers relocated after the flood. Selling their properties and looking for land in higher elevations. Years afterward when the floodplain dried out, the land close to the confluence was purchased and made into a state park. The surrounding lands were left alone to return to its natural state. . The golf course was never restored. A lot was learned from this historical natural event and was a lesson in how important the floodplain is to our natural environment. -Mark River

Rivergator Chronicles: St. Louis to Caruthersville

Healing with the Eagles

In 1975, when I was 7 years old, my family bought a house in North County, St. Louis on the Missouri side of the Mississippi River. My grandfather, already living in St.

Louis, gave my parents the idea we would have more opportunities, and it pulled us from lower middle class to upper. St. Louis being a very conservative town, resisted minorities moving to their pristine neighborhoods of north county, and showed resistance in ways of intimidation and systematic tactics. My brother Earl used my grandfather?s address to attend Riverview Gardens High School which was a powerhouse in sports in the 70?s through the 90?s. This made the decision a no brainer.

I remember discussing diversity with my mother, Iveara Peoples, during her very short time in this world. My mother was born in Bolivar, TN. She was an All-State track star who fell in love with a up and coming baseball player. She was very diverse woman, who survived the assassination of Martin Luther King to still love her state and her beloved, Elvis. Along with Rod Stewart and the Beatles. She always told me, “Once they get to know you, they will love you.” Still lives with me today.

My childhood started as being the only minority in my third grade class, having to wrestle and fight with my fellow students for being smarter, faster, and different. Eventually gaining acceptance for my athletic ability, rather than character and handling societies indifferences by complying with the masses for security and opportunity purposes. During those times, the powers that be were The Pipefitters, one of the most powerful unions who owned the majority of the floodplain of the confluence of

the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers to Cementland. Owning coveted property along the Chain of Rocks bluffs with tax benefits feeding a beaming athletic program ironically named after a natural national icon, the Mississippi River. As students we dealt with the pressures of separatism by driving to the levee and listening to music to hide our friendships to keep the peace. We would go on float trips to the rivers of central Missouri, the Ozarks, and the Meramac, sometimes hearing racial dialect yelled from the bluffs, but ignoring them as if numb to the situation. Back then it was forbidden to venture southward past the St. Louis Port for there was a chance you would not come back. I went on to excel at Riverview Gardens High School losing my mother at 11 years of age, but surviving the grief to go on to college and the rest is history.

As we drove from Clarksdale, Mississippi, en route to St. Louis all these old thoughts and experiences flow and wander through my head and heart as I wish for forgiveness and closure. This beautiful iconic river that I love and honor, brought back a combination of love and discomfort, as we drive along the floodplain towards the confluence where I develop my skills practicing football on its rich soil and becoming the athlete I am today. When I was young, 7 months out off the year, this land was flooded, swampy, mosquito infested floodplain that produced trophy mammals during deer season as well as prized waterfowl and fish. Now incorporated as a State

Conservation Area to share the love of our river with the masses. There use to be a golf course along this stretch also, only to be swallowed up by the 1993 flood and never replaced.The making of this park was highly protested after the 1993 flood by locals not wanting to give up their sacred hunting and fishing spots to humanity. Thankfully a proposed mega-casino project was recently killed by locals.

We arrive at the boat ramp with high spirits meeting friends and well wishers. There are fishermen, kayakers, and nature lovers enjoying the day. I immediately notice the diversity in the people and it made me smile inside. We launch the Grasshopper and head towards the Confluence. The Grasshopper glides effortlessly through the water causing fishermen to stare as we head towards Duck Island. On the top end sits an eagle?s nest with a whole family intact. It made me reflect back to my childhood when we never saw eagles due to their deaths caused by DDT in the 1970's. It was welcoming site to start the day. We experienced a small rain shower as we headed towards the Chain of Rocks, but the Mississippi River is up so riding " the chain" won't be an issue today. We choose Mosenthein Island for our first camp looking at the neighborhood where my grandfather bought a house in the 1920's. I spent my evening staring across the channel thanking the Creator for this perspective, a perspective I used to wish for when I was young and had no resources to get to the island. We used to think that we

would catch more fish if we could cross the channel like the rich kids, but who knows. It must be good fishing as a eagles nest sits high in the trees.

The morning comes quick, as we weathered a storm throughout the night, and I'm excited knowing we will past by Jefferson Barracks Cemetery where my mother is buried. We take the back channel and witness a lone coyote swimming as if returning from a long evening. I see the Gateway Arch in the distant with a new bridge that was being constructed in 2012 while we circumnavigated St. Louis. Many of my childhood fishing spots are now industrial zones and private, but I still have love for this town. We clear the Port of St. Louis and head towards the Meramac River. I feel discomfort and start to stress with my childhood experiences hovering over my shoulders, when we spot a great site for lunch, which happened to be Jefferson Barracks. I'm at peace enjoying lunch with my mother and friends. I could feel a sign of relief as I'm able to smile and celebrate her life through my path. The healing continues.

An immature bald eagle crosses the bluffs as we see the Meramac River in the distance. A john boat approaches and I think, "I hope this goes well." A lone fishermen, curious about our journey, introduces himself and gives us a history lesson about this stretch of river. At the end of the discussion, he offers us an already filleted catfish. I beam with hope and throw out the stereotypes of my childhood. This river continues to blow my mind. It seemed as if we where being escorted by the eagles the whole way and I feel like I'm on a vision quest for healing my soul. Our captain guided us logistically through storms sometimes stopping in the distant to watch them develop and dissipate before our eyes. It was the first time I could see water falling from the sky as if the Creator was dumping a bucket of water.

As the trip continued, we met generous people along the way. We met a couple of river lovers close to Cairo who offered us refreshments and showed us their favorite camp site. In Hickman, KY we met a friendly news reporter, and an entrepreneur whose business has been active in town for 90 plus years. The city of New Madrid embraced four river rats wandering around town searching for supplies. Finally, the town of Caruthersville who let us escape a vicious storm by offering us a dry place (Mike?s Pizza Place) to prepare for our journey home.

We experienced beautiful sunrises and storms. Sunsets that lasted thirty to forty minutes. Families of eagles around every bend to the point were we stopped counting them. We heard drums from the bluffs of the Trail of Tears National Park. We mourned dead sturgeon as we camped on the gravel bar across from Lee Towhead. We enjoyed many back channels, thriving with wildlife and wood ducks. This expedition changes my feeling for the better of the complex history involving my plight and was needed in

order for me to continue my stewardship to this river. Just like the meanders of the river, life is full of change and challenges. You must embrace the challenges of the present, heal the wounds of the past, and prepare to face the future with open arms. Like the return of the eagles along the Mississippi River. I'm back. -Mark River

Mark River Blog:

Rivergator Chronicles: Low-water Treasures

Millions of years ago, after the glaciers receded north, the Mississippi River Valley was covered by a shallow, warm, clear sea called Kaskaskia. It advanced from the south inland and reach the east and west boundaries of the valley. The period, between Mississippian and Devonian, was a time of thriving marine animals such as crinoids, brachiopods, coral, and bryozoans.

Crinoids seemed to be the abundant species during these periods. Over 260 species of crinoids have been found in the Burlington limestone which in places are 2000 ft thick reaching from Iowa to Alabama. Crinoids, being filter feeders, thrived in these warm waters full of dissolved calcium carbonate. Burlington limestone is unusually thick, coarse-grained, crystalline,crinoidal limestone, with thin cherty beds and cherty modules.

The flood of 1993 exposed many of these creatures in limestone beds throughout the Mississippi and Missouri River tributaries giving us a broad perspective of what life was in those periods. The fossils in these formations of limestone are entirely of marine life. Letting us know that life started in the sea.

Being a river guide on the greatest river of them all, I've built a budding collection of fossils . When the water recedes, gravel bars appear throughout the river channel exposing everything from petrified wood, mud and bones, to tabulate and rugose coral. Hematite geodes, agates, and the rare carnelian are also found in these cherty beds. With the inconsistent rise and fall of the River, these beds are resupplied frequently, making them valuable to collectors.

The summer in the Delta is in full swing as the River recedes and exposing life from the past. Gravel bars from Buck Island, Montezuma, Island 62 , Knowlton, and Island 69 are releasing treasures from the past waiting to claimed by exploratory minds and hearts. It's hard to believe that 400 million years ago these creatures where thriving and we get a chance to study their lives through petrified exoskeletons left behind. It is also clear that these limestone deposits are responsible for filtering our aquifers and springs, giving us the freshwater needed to sustain healthy, enriched lives.

With the fall coming rapidly, now is the time to plan a trip on the Mississippi River. The water is refreshing, the sandbars manicured, and the sky is full of glistening stars. The warm days are complimented by cool nights. The campfire roars, calming the souls of all, making the trip to your tent the hardest chore of the day. The Mississippi River is a haven for paddlers, fishermen, collectors, and outdoor enthusiast.

Go to www.rivergator.org and plan your expedition today!

-Mark River

St. Louis born Mark “River” Peoples is a river guide and youth leader with the Quapaw Canoe Company. Mark grew up hunting and fishing along the river with his father. Mark is the Southern Region leader for 1 Mississippi (www.1Mississippi.org) and also serves on the board of the Lower Mississippi River Foundation. When not on the water, Mark mentors Delta youth and educates them on the importance of the protection and preservation of our national treasure for generations to come. Mark works hard on changing the perception of our great River and its tributaries. Through river trips, cleanups, and workshops, Mark’s goal is overall systemic health of the Mississippi River.

Rivergator Appendix VII

Lower Mississippi River Dispatch

No 253, Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Raucous River Bottoms

The 2014 Ruskey Family Reunion was held in my father’s homeland behind Vancouver Island: the Inside Passage, the Fraser River Valley. My father built clinkers as a kid, and explored the muddy flats and estuaries of the mighty Fraser River. One of his uncles constructed a log raft from piles of driftwood and explored the Peace River in the early 1900s. This summer, in July, the Fraser was running fast and muddy. But instead of the rich browns common to the Lower Mississippi, it was running the color of cement, the color of glacial-ground granite, the color of the Canadian Rocky Mountains.

On the way up north I had the joyous opportunity to wander some of the rocky floodplain bottoms below a couple of big glaciers of British Columbia and Alaska. I was accompanied by my daughter Emma-Lou and nephew Gavin. The funny thing is that I could see the geologic history of the Mississippi in these mountain ice field valleys. Icefields a thousand feet thick oozed out like thick buttermilk pancake batter from high mountain plateaus as they were engorged with the copious snowfall typical of the coastal ranges. Glaciers emerged from the edges of the icefields and descended through steep canyons collapsing thousands of feet in elevation to finally level out in broad flat valleys below, often at sea level or just above it. It was in these flat valleys full of glacier melt that the imprint reminiscent of the ancient Mississippi could be seen. Every time I meandered along these raucous river bottoms I got a bad case of Mississippi vertigo. The valleys here are full of wild cement-colored whitewater bouncing out of U-shaped valleys into completely flat bottomlands stretched out like a gravelly ironing board between the steep cliff-faced mountains. Maybe it was just homesickness, but the shapes of these braided bottoms and the myriad curves of the tumbling glacial melt reminded me of the same patterns and shapes seen in the alluvial bottomlands of my beloved muddy river (as when the Mississippi is seen from the air, or on geomorphologic maps, like those drawn by Saucier). You can see it in the flat valleys at the terminus of the Stikine River, the Chilkat, the Salmon, and the Bear River, and in the rivers emerging from the Columbia Icefields of Jasper.

Many millennia ago, perhaps ten to fifteen thousand years, the Middle and Lower Mississippi Valleys were formed by the melting of the Continental Ice Cap. There were no canyons here, because there are no mountain ranges. And yet everything else is the same: icefields, melting ice, big volume meltwater, fantastic braided pathways scourging over the earth, deep imprints left in the floodplain as the ice caps and then later the muddy waters receded. The maker is always revealed. The maker is seen in the rocky deposits, in the striations, in the loess bluffs, in the sedimentary deposits. In all places the hand of god is everywhere evident. Or as Jesus says in The Gospel of Thomas: “Recognize what is in your sight, and that which is hidden from you will become plain to you . For there is nothing hidden which will not become manifest… and nothing covered will remain without being uncovered…”

But you don’t have to go to any exotic locales to find the creator; you can find this goodness wherever you are, simply by stepping out of the cookie-cutter patterns of mankind and into the organic landforms of nature. The Middle/Lower Mississippi offers a chance to find this turbulent and beautiful wilderness within, here within the busy bosom of a busy nation. All you need to do is get over the levee and the whole world changes. The transformational power of the river’s soulful landscape turns your personal expedition into a journey into the wilderness of your heart, and you find new pathways to places never explored, or grown-over from neglect. When we work with our youth, as we do with the Mighty Quapaws, the Spring Initiative kids, the GRIOT kids, and the Helena Canoe Club, we seek to find and open up the overgrown trails, the trails that lead to the heart. Along the way our youth share in the excitement of self-discovery, self-knowledge, exploration of beauty, and peaceful existence with nature.

“Driftwood Johnnie” John Ruskey is the Chief Visionary Officer of Quapaw Canoe Company, and director of the Lower Mississippi River Foundation.

Rivergator Appendix VIII

St. Louis to Caruthersville

by Stephanie Artz

Stephanie Artz is a yogi, artist and writer living near the largest oxbow lake in the Mississippi Valley, Lake Chicot. Her husband Mark Howell is the director of Winterville Mounds, which is 2nd to Cahokia in size.

This is my third paddle on the Mississippi with John Ruskey and Clarksdale based Quapaw Canoe Company, as part of a five year project documenting an on-line paddlers’ guide for the Mississippi River, www.rivergator.org; I have been on Rivergator explorations from Greenville, MS to Vicksburg, MS., November 18-22 2013, Vicksburg, MS to Baton Rouge, LA., April 12-20 2014, and this is my account from St. Louis to Caruthersville, MO. May 26-June 5 2014.

The Rivergator is a guide to the Mississippi River. It is meant for experienced paddlers, in any human powered craft to use for navigation and camping purposes including detailed information on water level changes, how and why to choose camp sites, (a very important decision on the river) tow boat information, historical accounts, paddling conditions, environmental changes… as John summed it up, it’s mainly a guide against bad advice.

John Ruskey knows the Mississippi River, he has floated or paddled it for 30 years on everything, including a log. He’ll tell you that it is faster, wider, wilder, more dynamic, more exposed, more alive, add as many superlatives as you like, than other rivers. He loves it, passionately, and wants it to be accessible to the paddling public.

Large, mythic, majestic, and maligned most have heard that the river will swallow you down, spin you around and spit you out, or not. John is committed to what in his experience is the safest boat, a handmade voyager style canoe, 33 foot long, five feet wide in the middle and tapered to symmetrical bow and stern, all boards on a curve, cypress and redwood just like the vessels that for hundreds maybe thousands of years American natives and later European explorers plied. My take is that he may think motors, certainly combined with alcohol are not the safest way to navigate the river, especially without any paddles. As high school students many of us have read Mark Twain’s Tales of the Mississippi describing freedom seeking Jim and the young huckster Huck on a raft adventure down the Mississippi. The idea has inspired others, including John, and the issues there, he said one night, came from steering a 12 by 24 foot rectangular craft. All said, the river is dangerous, like the ocean, and demands respect, and in large canoes with seasoned paddlers the river has rewarded this humble paddler with the ultimate freedom seeking river adventure.

I am a woman, passed 40 a few years back, a New Yorker for twenty-three years where I was a professional dancer for twenty of them. I spent my childhood up in New Hampshire. For a trip with Quapaw the only requirement is a willingness to paddle. I have nearly always liked what is real in the offerings of life and have sought out the unpretentious. On the river we ate healthy food, I relearned wilderness camping, we watched river vistas, and I enjoyed conversation and company with people who are exceptional at what they do. The crew, who call themselves Quapaws, named for the Native American group known as the downstream people, are cheerful masters on the river. They are fun, skillful cooks and exceptional paddlers that exceed a purist’s aesthetic. For whole, singular experiences, you will love the Mississippi River and especially the Quapaws. It’s the best way, and with a guide, I think, the only way to paddle.

We began on the Missouri River and in less than a mile we paddled into the faster flowing Mississippi seeing a color line in the water obvious from the perspective of a canoe. From the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi River we began noticing and counting over 100 American Bald Eagles, including juveniles without the iconic white head and tail feathers. By the time we got to the end of the middle Mississippi at the Ohio River confluence, half way through the trip to Caruthersville, MO, we decided to stop counting. On Duck Island north of St. Louis an eagle family of four nested on an east facing cottonwood perch giving us our first look at them. This thrilling comeback for a bird which in my lifetime went from nearly extinct to evidently thriving is evidence of a healthy water system. Documentation and preservation of the batture, which means the land including everything wet or dry between the levees on the Mississippi, is a priority for Rivergator.org, John and the Quapaw Canoe Company. More eyes on the river mean more chance for the batture to be healthy and wild. Without paddlers, who tend to be good witnesses, conditions in the batture could more easily deteriorate. For instance on May 30, a late Friday afternoon, as we entered the lower Mississippi, about fifteen miles below the confluence of the Ohio River a crop duster dumped the last of the load over the banks of the river. He was heading home I imagine, at the end of the day, perhaps he felt invisible and alone. But he advertised to us his ignorant or simply irresponsible work habits and brought shame to the larger Mississippi Delta farm industry. Hopefully it could become more difficult, as paddlers make the more remote parts of the Mississippi visible, to do these kinds of things unnoticed.

Leaving the eagles on Duck Island we zoomed over the Chain of Rocks, a large shoal that in lower water creates rapids where the Mississippi River comes through St. Louis. The sound of rushing water was a thrill though the actual descent, which was fun, barely speeded up our sturdy canoe. Our accompanying kayaker, Layne Logue, closer to the water got a bigger thrill. We camped on Mosenthein Island which is viewable from neighborhoods in north St. Louis. It lies seven miles south of ancient Cahokia, a Native American city east of the Mississippi occupied from around 1050-1200AD by the mysterious and precocious Cahokians, great innovators in government, pottery, buildings and culture they also maintained extensive trading routes covering the Great Lakes, the Gulf of Mexico, the Eastern Seaboard and the foothills of the Rockies. A fascinating book on the topic is Timothy Pauketat’s Cahokia: Ancient America’s Great City on the Mississippi, which describes Cahokia’s recent history, former significance to the entire Mississippian ancient world. This large portion of American culture then was centered along the course of the mighty river, rather than as now defined along the Mason-Dixon Line.

Mark Peoples, called River, our bow paddler and a former defensive back for the New York Giants hailed from north St. Louis. He told me that, fishing from shore, he thought if only he could take a boat to Mosenthein. Surely, the fishing is better. He and his friends all sat there and wanted a boat. His take on the river was for me a spontaneous tutorial on athleticism, paddling and culture along the Mississippi. That night after dinner I set my tent up optimistically but poorly and got drenched in a windy thunder storm soon after dark. After taking cover in the only other woman, Gail Guido’s tent, when it stopped raining I took my sleeping bag down by the campfire coals to sleep in the sand. This is the kind of thing I end up doing at times on these trips but also in general so I try to learn and keep up. The rain did stop completely, strangely I knew it would, the stars came out and I enjoyed sleeping in the sand. Sand, in fact, is surprisingly comfortable. Before dawn John got the fire ready for cowboy coffee, a particularly strong blend with grounds that make it a good way to wake up and I had a front row seat to the changing and growing river-with-sky sunrise.

When we paddled out in the back channel of Mosenthein we thought at first a deer, but a coyote was swimming from the left bank to the island. We watched him or her climb out and then run along the sand into the willows. Mostly I have seen tracks of coyotes in the wet sand, sometimes near turtle trails, sometimes beside holes dug in the ground and of course heard them at night. I knew they forced many a deer to jump into the water and swim away. This morning’s predator’s motives were unknown.

We paddled through the harbor section of St. Louis, passing industry on the river banks and going under bridges. Being Memorial Day it was amazingly quiet. The Eads Bridge, named for designer and builder James B. Eads, in 1874 was the longest arch bridge in the world. Fifteen workers died from “the bends” or decompression sickness from sinking the supports. We docked briefly at the restored Riverfront in front of the 630-foot steel Gateway Arch commemorating westward expansion of the United States built in 1965 before paddling downstream under the pair of bridges called the J.B. Bridge, named for the nearby Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery originally part of the oldest operating military installation west of the Mississippi River, Jefferson Barracks Post.

Where the Meramec River enters the Mississippi we paddled into its mouth and rounding the corner I saw an old baby blue fishing boat up in what looked like the trees, a real life image as from the movie Mud. Really it was beached on the bank, looking like it had been there a very long time. As we paddled closer John pointed out the For Sale sign taped to the windshield. On our way back we met up with a fisherman in his john boat. Friendly, and definitely curious about us and the canoe, we exchanged river stories and he gave us a few big, fileted catfish which we were happy and able to accept and store in the cooler. Did I mention the food Quapaw manages to bring? Stored in a huge cooler it is delightful, healthy, often organic, resupplied along the route with fresh Kale, peppers, carrots, spinach sometimes lettuce, organic milk and yogurt, including special requests like cookies, more garlic, a certain kind of apple. We also carried enough staples to make various kinds of salad, dressings, and sauces. John picked lamb’s quarter to go with our fish, a wild green growing along the way. I also picked mulberries and blackberries whenever we found them which were quite often added to breakfast or dessert.

We paddled down to Calico, a sandy island with a narrow back chute where we camped and swam from the northern side as in a pool where the current kept you in the same place. After dinner including some deer sausage from the kayaker, Layne Logue cooked with the rest of dinner on a driftwood fire, I talked with Bill Pretsch of Memphis and more specifically his 17 year old son, Ethan about his high school history teacher. Apparently the teacher walks around Memphis in bare feet and in other unconventional ways instructs his students in a way that resonated with me maybe due to my own education in New Hampshire during the 1970’s. Ethan admired his young, eccentric teacher and recounted his stories in terms that I understood and was happy, with my body language, to normalize. In my experience such teachers are the best one. I have had them and feel now that a kid can get along without great parents, but is impoverished and lost without a great teacher. Ethan also assisted me in tying a tarp over my little tent, which I greatly appreciated, and considerably reduced my anxiety over rain.

After coffee, breakfast and a morning stretch we continued downstream beside limestone cliffs that looked like Les Eyzies, France along the Vezere River. My husband and I visited those Pleistocene caves in 1996 when you still could view their prehistoric paintings and I remembered the drive along the ancient river bed. For some reason I was unprepared for the sight of rock cliffs along the Mississippi river. Other than the loess bluffs from Vicksburg to Angola particularly spectacular at Natchez the landscape of the lower Mississippi was more flat, humid, floodplain and remained that way in my imagination. Here the middle Mississippi is lined on the right bank by impressive bluffs of either loess, limestone, and a section of red slate-like rock that tumbled into broken down pieces looking close to reddish sand.

We camped at Rockwood Island, another eagle nesting place, bought in the last ten years by the now disbanded American Land Conservancy. Because of this the island is a sanctuary looked after by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife service as part of the Mark Twain National Wildlife Refuge Complex, full of eagles, geese, deer, turtles, frogs and other wildlife more delicate and shy. This conservancy also bought Buck Island at Helena, Arkansas and I was sorry to learn they had gone out of business so to speak. Gail Guido, who paddled to Cape Girardeau, MO, and I walked some distance to edge closer to the eagles for pictures and walked back an equally long way as the sun began to set. All night and early morning I listened to squawking geese and calls of other birds that are safe on Rockwood Island.

The limestone cliffs continued and we passed at least one huge mining operation where railroad tracks follow the river carrying cargo to and from energy and limestone industry. We camped that night on the left bank across from Trail of Tears State Park and another impressive cliff. We talked a bit about the mental aspect of paddling. Again, bow paddler, River was ruminating that eighty percent of the physical is the mental. I contemplated this for the reminder of the trip. He had told me that he trains for expeditions and he recounted thoughtfully while cooking and setting up the kitchen that he started kicking an empty plastic bag around for 30 minutes or so, keeping it from hitting the ground. Things like this make me chuckle. Life can be so interesting. That reminded me of a leg exercise from Contact Improvisation dance classes in New York City. One dancer while on the ground uses just the legs to keep in physical contact with the legs or feet of a partner dancer who moves and dances remaining upright. It was fun, energizing, sometimes aggressive and somewhat exhausting. Then we would switch roles. I remembered how it stimulated fiery, useful strength in the legs as well as balance and agility. I’ve heard of football players taking ballet too, for the same reasons, I guess I like to think I have something in common with the disciplines of the NFL.

In the morning I was tired and woke up taking my time. From the campsite sitting on a huge fallen tree I could contemplate the cliff across the river, the stopped train, and the Trail of Tears. John had been discussing a previous trip this February taking Google Earth people mapping the Apalachicola River in Florida. I’m not sure how that works, maybe they needed to be at canoe level to see the banks of the river. Some things you just have to see for yourself. His casual mention of it captured my imagination. The current five year project on the Mississippi entitled Rivergator, to map it for paddlers, is named after a best-selling book, a bible for pioneers, Navigator, by Zaduk Kramer written for people from the East coast heading to the Ohio and Mississippi River Valleys. It outlined how to make your way into that wilderness. It was an early nineteenth century Google Earth maybe, or maybe another guide against other people’s bad advice.

We headed downstream exploring Heiman Chute a long back channel alive with wood ducks, big fish, one that made a marked moving V on the surface, as other people were talking, and a dark shape underneath. John saw it too. We resupplied at Cape Girardeau, dropped off Gail and headed toward the Delta which John pointed out as the lower tree line ahead. We camped on an unnamed island just above Commerce, Missouri. John commented on this unnamed island that obviously someone was dumping trash into the river from Cape Girardeau, that there was more of it than in St. Louis. We saw orange construction fencing, large plastic pails, even prescription drug bottles.

In the morning we headed across the river to the right bank, the Missouri side, looking for the boulder outcropping at Thebes Gap also referred to as the little chain of rocks where an ancient red quartzite quarry provided the raw material used to make Cahokian chunkey stones used in an important spiritual game played by the Mississippians. We got out of the canoe looking at the boulders for an ancient petroglyph mentioned in Timothy Pauketat’s Cahokia: Ancient America’s Great City on the Mississippi “a meandering line, a large eye, a moccasin print, an eagle or a falcon glyph and a host of other unusual lines and clustered marks” he thinks suggest an ancient map depicting the Mississippi River. What I am intrigued by is that this petroglyph is mostly submerged by all water levels. We didn’t find it. I don’t know if that was submerged in ancient times, and if it was, that is pretty interesting.

We picked up Mike Clark and camped that night just upstream of Boston bar in a lovely flat, sandy mulberry and willow grove where I saw an incredible show of what looked like loads of twinkling lights in the trees. I got out of my tent at night when I saw them. Normally lightning bugs are flying around but these remained in what looked like the same place and lit the trees in an arresting, silent display of otherworldly brilliant white lights crowded tightly together and blinking on and off like a forest of lighted Christmas trees or sparks from a fire or maybe shooting stars, I could hardly tear myself away.

From Boston Bar we had a pedal to the metal kind of day going along the back channel of Boston Bar, we spotted an old eagle, grey, tired-looking, didn’t move as we passed by. When we were approaching the Ohio confluence Mike and John talked of floods by year. Mike saw the river flow backwards in 2011, sycamore logs coming toward him from the Ohio not far from Boston bar. John floated from Memphis to Vicksburg in 2011 when the water level was the highest ever in many Lower Miss locales (Caruthersville one of them) and would have gone further but the State Governor closed the river with the rumor of a “shoot to kill” order.

Rivergator Appendix IX

Mr. & Mrs. ‘Sippi

In 2009 I built a raft for a group of 10 Germans who wanted to raft the Mississippi River in the spirit of Huck and Jim, and they wanted to film t for a “documentary” to be called Mr. & Mrs. ‘Sippi. We put in at Piasa Creek (which is tucked into the Illinois Bluffs between Alton and Grafton), paddled through the Mel Price Lock & Dam and then past the Missouri River Confluence, the heart of America, and thankfully entered the free flowing waters of the Middle Mississippi. From there it was all downstream to the Gulf of Mexico. Here below is the excerpted section from St. Louis to Caruthersville.

Tuesday, July 7, Duck Island, Missouri River Confluence

The big muddy charging into the Mighty Mississippi. The Upper Mississippi from Piasa Creek, the maiden voyage of the raft, feeling its way tenderly into the big waters of America, wanbli Bald Eagle, flew off at dawn from Duck Island. I am suddenly thrown back to 1982, the last time I was on this section of river, on a raft under the bluffs of Illinois. Sean Rowe and I paddling the Mississippi on a home-made 12x24 foot raft, my shedwater Mississippi River experience. How far advanced this raft is compared to that one we built then out of found materials, scrap lumber & discarded oil drums. How ignorant was I then. And yet we made the journey, and the river is still allowing me life, liberty & the pursuit of further explorations! Regardless of how fancy your raft is, there are still the same dangers and the same hard work necessary to get through. Midnight madness full moon Mike & Tom & a bottle of whiskey.

Wednesday, July 8, Mosenthein Island, Mile 187

Big Muddy “Wanbli” Mike expertly guided us into a secluded series of alternating muddy & sandy shelves in the back channel of Mosenthein Island after a stormy run through & over the right central tongue at the Chain of Rocks, the river 17.91 @ St. Louis, the Missouri mad & muddy, and the Mississippi a little less so. Scott Mandrell made a run back to Piasa Creek to retrieve the anchor from John Cooper’s Angela’s Ark, which we had forgotten at pushoff. God Bless you Scott! What a useful addition that anchor turned out to be! We finished an agonizingly long film “shoot” at the canoe & kayak access at the base of Duck Island (Columbia Bottoms) and were finally underway at 3pm, a few swims along the way, some small isolated cumulus clouds growing & diffracting the light in yellows, whites, blues & blacks, the rounded bluffs upon which St. Louis sits & separates our southerly passage on the Mississippi from the approaching waters of the Big Muddy bouncing along in leafy elaborations, tenderly guiding the raft over the bosom of the meeting place of the great waters.

The clouds continued to congregate over North St. Louis like thugs in the alley, no horizontal motion but vertically rising & growing with alarming proportions as we approach I-270 and the roaring beyond, then soon rain drops, and then some full-out shimmering downpours dimpling the muddy waters in a dazzling mesmerizing display. Seth was shoved out of his position by eager Germans laying all over the prow of the raft suddenly energized by the storms. Just under the I-270 bridge and making our final approach to the 66 bridge and “what roars behind” when straight line gusting winds & rains hit us from the western bluffs and we are forced to retreat and hastily take shelter under one of the monumental Interstate Highway abutments where everyone huddles shivering & excited Voelker repeatedly jumping in-and-out with his submersible Lumix camera and grinning madly, my VHF marine radio crackling alternately German & English, Scott & Lutz can be seen high above but as small as fleas on the route 66 roadway Scott screaming “Run! Run! Run for cover!” and off they dash down the Western side of the bridge for protection while we are left in the exposed in the middle of the maelstrom -- The wind thrashing us about as we hang on in our strange harbor. Only the river remains silent – & also warm. Those who don’t have proper clothing are huddled below the raft in the river. Patricia is shivering, and Sabine, Seth offers his rain jacket like a gentleman. Marcus looks like a wet puppy. We were saved from who knows what helpless descent by the chance location of this pylon and a shallow shelf of sand underneath. If there was any doubt before of the river’s benevolence it was here dashed.

Mike oversees a crazy canoe crawl returning up the back channel at sunset to retrieve the last two members of the film crew, poor Tom & Jadwiga, the ground crew, who missed out on all of the fun of the day! Popeye the Canoe Man is with Mike. In my 4-man canoe is Darius “Dare Devil,” one the newest Mighty Quapaws. Like his name indicates, he has no fear. But his parents do: in the past they have denied him participation in our adventures due to the notorious history of the hungry Mississippi River. As we were rounding one point a full-grown (but still immature) bald eagle jumped off an overhanging branch and heavily clopped its way in front of us over the top of the island in the last light of the day. Darius started and then yelled, “John! What was that!”

Hee-hee-hee! That one experience made this whole mad dash worth it!

It required a full 3 hours of hard paddling, mostly by the light of the moon, to scoop Tom & Jadwiga up at the completely mudded-over Riverside Park Landing and then return around the base of the island, Tom paddling like a mad-man – now I see where the name “Monsta” Movies comes from! He is a monster paddler if nothing else. Producer of this production & Co-owner of the film company, Tom plays canoe-polo back home, and his skillful & tough handling of the canoe from the prow demonstrated this “prowess!”

Later that night, after we were safe at camp and had eaten supper and were drinking around the fire, Lutz approached and hugged me and thanked me for saving his wife. I was confused. I thought he said “life.” I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but then later realized what he had said. But it wasn’t I who saved his blue-eyed beauty Sabine (also camera-woman for the production) it was the river.

Thursday, July 9, Palmer Creek Island, Mile 168

The back channel barely open over a rip-rap dike cap, a beautiful camp of sand flung onto a bluff below the first wing dam, a wild place created during high water, full of big logs, sculpted big-scale driftwood, and a selection of river-scoured topography, flats, bluffs, ridges, and a frog pond created behind the highest bluff – where 10 Germans set up 11 tents (one tent just for cameras – by order of chief camera woman Sabine) – and Mike proclaimed “New Berlin!” Well, we crossed off three more items on our list of the 5 most difficult obstacles yesterday. 1) Chain of Rocks, 2) entering St. Louis, 3) Coast Guard Inspection, 4) Exiting the St. Louis Harbor. 4 out of 5 in two days! Just in case we start getting smug with ourselves, our nights still had another nightmare to contemplate – the riverman’s worst nightmare: our single most difficult challenge is one we won’t see until the very final days of the expedition – and is actually the longest & most dangerous – the combined (and also contiguous harbors of Baton Rouge & New Orleans).

St. Louis was bad enough. Could it get worse? Well, yes and no. It felt like we were caught in a pinball machine – us the pinball, the harbor tugs the flippers, the long lines of fleeted barges the pinball banking walls – The St. Louis Harbor downstream of the Arch – a 15 mile long industrial park land laid out along the main channel of the river, perhaps the most concentrated & busy section of inland waterway anywhere in America? – not busier than New Orleans, by any means, but a lot narrower – someone made a paranoia phone call and we were escorted into the city by a squadron of St. Louis finest. Lights & sirens and all. I thought something big was going on in this industrial wasteland, then I realized with a falling heart that it was us. We were the focus of their attention. Dear lord, river Gods, why can’t we just paddle and be allowed to pass on peacefully? Can things get any more difficult? One guy chased us to the end of a rocky jetty along some warehouses and then screeched to a halt and jumped out of his patrol car blue lights flashing and hollered out for us over his bullhorn “stop!” And then “Pull Over!” We had a clear and unobstructed view of the river shore line here, all tall trees long ago cut and floated away. It was almost like watching a movie. I wanted to laugh, and then I realized we were actually making a movie. Strange, to be in a movie and to be experiencing a scene as it unrolled itself. It was the most comical thing I think I have ever seen on the river. It easy to laugh now, but I wasn’t laughing then – as we tensely maneuvered our still virgin raft through the throes of industrial wasteland with our charge of Germans. No one else was laughing either. Mike looked like he could eat steel and spit out bullets so angry was he as he paddled one of the Northshores alongside and then cut into shore to try to calm the guy down. Thank you Mike Clark! His father is a distinguished veteran of the Chicago Police, he knows how to talk to these guys and not be intimidated. Silly police. Did they want to cause us a wreck, trying to come to shore in such a cluttered place? There could be capsize and loss of life if we tried to obey those orders. Strong current pushing through parked barges. I didn’t budge one degree of rudder angle. None of the Mighty Quapaws even flinched hearing those irrational screams, but tersely kept the tiller pointed downstream and the oars kept chopping away in rough rhythm as we floated on down underneath the railroad bridge, and then the McKinley Bridge, the Eads Bridge now in full view, our safe refuge, the Eads Bridge never looked so beautiful! Our home base! If any place is home along this jumbled waterfront its here below the oldest bridge on the Mississippi River, built by a guy who just might have been crazier than us!

So we floated on and made a landing on a small spit of sand that had been formed in the last river’s rise just below the tall arches of the Eads Bridge abutments. The cop cars appeared, no longer running lights, and parked above us along the riverside drive below the arch, and sat. And watched. It was kind of eerie. No one came out and asked questions. I tried to remain as calm as possible. The Germans seemed unfazed, but I noticed that all cameras had been put away. A Rescue boat with the St. Louis Fire Department arrived and told us that someone had called 911 and reported us. Wanbli Mike jumped to attention and with great animation explained our mission. They eventually powered off, I’m not sure if they were enlightened or more confused by Mike’s display. The US Coast Guard eventually appeared. Finally someone who would understand! We were inspected and questioned by 2 different groups of inspectors, and asked for nautical things that made good sense like “What is your freeboard” and “What is your capacity?” and “How many will be on board?” and “Will you run at night time?” And then we were asked to physically verify that we had enough life jackets, and 1 st aid kits, bailers, running lights (just in case), VHF Marine Radios, and etc, all done very courteously and politely with questions thrown in about who we were and where we had come from and what the Germans were doing, and all that, and then Capt. Bill _____ who has been on the St. Louis waterfront for over 18 years was called, and he layered on several more floods and high waters of fresh questioning. There was a lot of talk back & forth. It seemed like this could go either way. I was getting a little nervous. What would we do if they told us we couldn’t continue? Finally something clicked and someone at the other end of the line far off somewhere in some office finally was satisfied that we had met all demands, and the barrier was lifted, permission granted. But wait! Photos! Yes, we had met all demands, but then we were further detained as digital cameras were produced and photos made for documentation. Finally, finally we could reboard, the Quapaws laden with sub sandwiches and the film crew setting the stage for a St. Louis departure, literally, the raft became a floating stage as we pushed off from the Arch, the glistening stainless steel curving high overhead as Patricia & Volker talked into the camera, 4 men at oars, me at the tiller, 2 each in the Northshores, I was elated, we received the official stamp of affirmation from the St. Louis sector of the US Coast Guard, the toughest marine test we could be subjected to. So many rafts & other home-made contraptions they have turned away at this point. Capt. Bill said they have halted more rafts than allowed. He also said that this was the best designed & constructed raft that he has seen in his 18 years in St. Louis.

Of course, this didn’t mean we were bullet-proof. Mike and Seth and I shared a few high fives and congratulations, and then it was time to snap back into attention. After leaving the Arch we entered the main channel and entered the busy, busy St. Louis Harbor, a fifteen mile run through a constricted stream of fleeted barges, big towboats, and dozens of small towboats making bigger tows. We ran the gauntlet through the afternoon and made landing on the high blown dune of sand bank left below the JB Bridge at the head of Palmer Creek Island.

Friday, July 10, Turkey Island, Mile 130

Jupiter near the moon. Floating through the cliffy bluffs of the Missouri Ozarks as defined by the Mississippi River, perhaps one of the most beautiful sections of the great valley, the morphology of the floodplain defined by the last major flooding of the last ice age, a broad valley shaped violently and then left to dry out and be richly vegetated & grazed and then populated as mankind grew and adapted and became one with the land. Beautiful bluffs, rising forests and steep ravines, old houses and old institutions, Catholics & industry, power plants, lead smelter (Herculaneum), concrete yards, bluffs being pulverized and pushed elsewhere to be converted into roadbeds, dikes & harbors, the forest predominates over the ridges. One bald eagle swung into view as it glided up the cliff near Trail of Tears.

Saturday, July 11, Grand Tower, Mile 80.8

A great run down the dancing ridge line of the Missouri Ozarks, mostly flood plain to the East until Grand Tower, a roller coaster ridge capped by maples, catalpas, oaks, ashes, beeches & sycamores of the woodlands region, a band of white limestone cliffs with caves crevasses and cracks, jumbles of boulders, deep ravines with steep rocky sides, springs & seeps & waterfalls, meanwhile down below the big belly of mother Mississippi flowing proudly, serenely & strongly down hallways of bluffs & ridges, striking mounds & mountains of rock & forest somehow sub-tropical in shape, subtly feeling more southern in the columns of ridges approaching 20 miles upstream Grand Tower, Volker exclaimed “its starting to look like the Amazon!” A lot of individual trees standing taller and with more character, more vines, more leafy exuberance, flowing through the island paradise now protected as result of the good work of the American Land Conservancy – Rockwood, Walnut, Wilkinson – all good camps at present water level. Rockwood a huge sandbar along the main channel, the others with smaller bivouacs top end or underneath wing dams. A steady south wind 5-10 all day gusting higher, we were afforded relief in the meandering of the Mississippi which dances around islands and dips back & forth in a slow dance on geologic time, orchestrated by the earth and the prevailing weather patterns, the flowing of water.

Sunday, July 12, Marquette Island – Cape Girardeau, Mile 50

Awoke to thunderstorms, most everyone crawled back into their tents for much needed sleep, but not Volker (who seems to become as electric as any storms around him!) nor Patricia (who feels claustrophobic in her tent in the rain). Mike went into town for coffee and egg-sausage-muffins for breakfast. Great campsite on a private sandy beach under the pipeline crossing at the base of Grand Tower. I disappeared for several excursions to Tower Rock, once alone, once with Popeye, once with Tom & Marcus. It seemed as if the rain was going to keep on. The film crew grew restless and finally decided to pack it up and head in to Cairo. Quapaws packed up and we struck camp after noon and entered the archipelago below Tower Rock, big gravel bars exposed full of natural limestone, Tower Rock approachable, but surrounded by ugly looking teeth, rocks sticking out of the water, not a good day to explore, the raft being buffeted by the wind, we kept on, but looked hungrily over as we passed – so many places to return to & explore. Limestone cliffs replaced with red cliffs below, an abrupt change, new geology, the river cut due south and the wind picked up. We stopped in a sheltered cove, the Quapaws promptly covered themselves with seating pads and fell asleep. A half-day paddle 30 miles leave 1pm arrive 9pm with a 2-hour nap 2-4pm to avoid the wind, 30 miles in 6 hours = 5mph in fairly stiff head winds (gusting to 25 out of the South).

Monday, July 13, at the head of Brown’s Bar (Dogtooth Bend), Mile 24

Noon start. Mike and I paddled into the Cape for medical supplies for Seth (ear infection), Mike finished an online update while I located a doctor who would make prescription over the phone and then found a ride to the Hwy 61 strip to a drug store. Thank you Laura Stricker of Cape Girardeau for your hospitality! We floated half the day and paddled half the day according to the wind, buoys and tugboat activity, a plethora of upstream tugs pushing empties yesterday, perhaps preparing for the upcoming grain harvest season. We floated on buffeted southeasterly by an all-afternoon progression of gentle straight line winds with bellowing & billowing storm clouds undulating & evolving & mysteriously emerging from a massive slow-moving system straddling the hills of southern Illinois & the Missouri Ozarks, gentle rain showers sweeping through & slow winds until about 6:30pm when the trees north bank began thrashing & bending side to side and low scuddy clouds were skirting fastly overhead as if something big was coming in, we hugged the north bank for protection and curled into the first possible camp, which turned out to be a beauty, the river blessed us again! A beautiful protected camp at the head of Brown’s Bar, a calm inlet to beach the raft with a steep bank and deep waters, completely isolated from the main channel, no tugboat waves beating our baby tonight! Dinky & Popeye made a delicious pasta supper under Mike’s direction. I awoke in the middle of the night listening to a far-off train over the forests somewhere deep in the Missouri Bootheel, on the Illinois side a truck rumbling up Hwy 3, and in between: the roaring of the river as it rolled over the shoaling at the top of Dogtooth Bend. 26 ½ miles in 6 hours paddling from 1pm to 7pm means we made about 4mph, the river must be slowing down after it exits the steeper gradient of the bluffs below St. Louis and it enters the broad floodplain below Thebes

Tuesday, July 14, Moore Island, Lower Mississippi Mile 926

Voyageur’s wake up & start at dawn, breakfast on the water. We broke camp at 7am and enjoyed a breakfast on the water, a call to oars and then an “at ease!” around Dogtooth Bend, then Greenleaf Bend, two of my favorites in the entire river basin, the evidence of previous high water flows in the massive piles of driftwood pushed against the edges, in some places un unbroken tangle of jumbled logs & branches woven tightly by the mighty Middle Mississippi, like some giant sheep herder’s fence line, all of the rocks & wing dams ravaged by the current, some rock work now in progress at the end of Greenleaf, a rock barge & crane & tow anchored and huffing away loudly & laboriously, the landscape sliding by, our first view of the Kentucky Bluffs visible from the top of Greenleaf as we swirled around and looked far over the deep forests Eastward, the somber Ohio approaching from its run out of the Alleghenies & the Blue Ridges & Cumberland Plateaus, and similar to the dance of the Missouri & the Mississippi at their confluence above St. Louis, the waters of the Middle Mississippi and the waters of the Ohio approach each other, then retreat, then approach again, turn away again, and then at long last after many miles of this courtship the more elegantly dancing Middle Mississippi at long last succumbs to the sheer Suma wrestler weight of the Ohio and slams into the bigger river at a blunt angle, pushing all of her water far over bank left against the Kentucky Hills in a surprise maneuver that forces the green waters of the Ohio into a much narrower band which hugs the Wickliff Bluff in terror while the much more turbulent waters of the Muddy Mississippi churn along its edges and slowly infuse the sparkling green channel into brown. The Green flood might have the volume but the Brown has the color. Within ten miles all is a golden brown, and thirty miles later the sinuous meandering character of the Missouri/Mississippi also prevails, the lower Miss becomes a dizzy course of rolling meanders below Hickman. We’re now on the home river! The Lower Mississippi, the wildest, the brawniest, the baddest river in North America!

Big Muddy Mike relinquished his command of the vessel and the Mighty Quapaws and I celebrated our return home. We were still hundreds of miles from Clarksdale, but it felt like home! Wanbli appeared in the early evening to lead us to camp. This morning I awoke to find Venus in Taurus and Pleiades the sparkling sisters cheerfully dancing above.

Day 10, July 15, New Madrid Missouri, Mile 891

Another voyageur’s start, raft style, a little late. The Quapaws slow in awakening. A long hot languorous day, Seth in misery, his ear infection becoming an constant pain, thrown off balance by this complication near his internal gyroscope, adding to the misery of the hot day he is unable to swim for fear of worsening his condition, the Quapaws in low morale, the feeling of mutiny in the air as we slowly, ever so painfully slowly wind our way through island Nos 8, 9 and 10, paddling against mostly head winds and then finally into Bessie’s Bend where our hard work is rewarded with a long tail wind, actually the wind feels like it has died the northerly direction of the river around the first part of the bend negates the effect of the wind – regardless we get a break, and we float along each silent and wrapped in our own thoughts, and sweating in the heat. We round Bessie’s Bend, having entered Tennessee, and then exited again, a short return into Kentucky before we leave it for good, the Mississippi playing its never-ceasing tricks on us. After we locate a doable campsite in a small lagoon half mile above the New Madrid poor Seth announces “I’ve had enough. I can’t take any more of this!” And we make a couple of phone calls and find him a ride. Ellis & Melvin, our trusted shuttle drivers, are on the road before we get the raft secured, if anyone was ever ready to roll its these guys! Mike strides into town for another update, and the Quapaws disappear into the streets of New Madrid with $10 each I’ve given them to go find some supper. I remain at the raft to lay out wet tarps & gear, and to make a final shopping list for re-supply, the Germans to re-join us in the morning.

Day 11, July 16, New Madrid Bar, Mile 888

Gusting headwinds and impending storms, we decided to take refuge early in the day, before noon, directly across and a little downstream of our meet place and re-supply at the New Madrid Boat Launch, the wind worsening, we had paddled upstream a little and then made a ferry crossing to gain the lee of the opposite shore, and then we dropped below several wing dams, and then followed a long parallel jetties until a break presented itself behind which lay a pristine white sand beach. As the waves worsened and I became alarmed at the thought of being caught in some unprotected place with this the obvious approach of a major storm system, Mike decided to conduct a canoe floating canoe rescue class with the Mighty Quapaws! Hee-hee, that’s the spirit! When the river is wild respond in kind! They quickly wrapped up there rough water rescue class and we scooted into this protected harbor at the base of a river-tossed willow “hump” island, a beautiful location for a summer camp: good shade, great camp sites situated amongst small clumps of willows, good swimming, good access to deep water for the raft, and lastly firewood found generously spread around the bar – it really seemed like paradise and the Germans excitedly agreed as they scattered to set up their tents and buckle down for the oncoming storm. I pointed out what direction I anticipated the storm’s arrival, and Mike helped with instructions on how to place the tent in a protected location. It seemed like we were prepared for the worst, but little did any of us realize just how powerful a storm was brewing out of our vision. This whole section of river that afternoon became the focal point for an oncoming concentration of severe thunderstorms. It hit at the time we were most spread out and unprepared for it. I had taken the crew out for a nature walk. Due to a series of bad decisions we found ourselves on a very exposed ridge of sand & low scrubby willows & cottonwoods when the storm hit, behind main camp over a long narrow back channel lagoon. The strongest winds hit our campsite first, after having achieved maximum sustained winds as they flew unimpeded over the main channel of the river, probably 3/4 of a mile wide at this point between Missouri & Kentucky. Our very last camp in the Bluegrass State, and – whew! – it was a memorable one! I was pulling sand out of my ears from this onslaught for days so vertical was the rain & sand storms & dust storms that hit us that afternoon.

Its funny how bad decisions can accumulate against your favor in a situation like this. Innocent observances & suggestions might lead to the actions of a few with serious consequences for the group. It was like this. Patricia did not want to merely retrace our steps back to camp, she wanted to make a circle, so that we would see new territory. I am of the same kind, by nature, I don’t like to back track. As leader, with a worsening sky, I could have easily returned us to camp and no one would have known the difference. We were only 200 yards or so away from base camp at this point, an easy 5 minute walk would have brought us back. Not that it would have saved anyone’s tent necessarily, but it might have made the rest of the storm a lot safer for the whole. So we walked the long way back, around the lagoon. Even this was not a long distance, maybe 300 yards further, making the total walk back to camp a little over a quarter mile. But still it might have been the difference between life and death had anything gone wrong with any one of us, 17 of us total on the island when the explosive mayhem hit, almost all suddenly become strangers in a survival situation as we try to act as a cohesive group but the severity of nature’s wrath blows us apart and it becomes “every man for himself.”

The outer fringes of the storm were imminently approaching. The sky was all bruised black & blue and I could see the outer head wall that demarkated the breaking front line winds issuing madly forth underneath the main umbrella of the storm system. It was coming from the Northweast, as I had suspected. Strangely, though, when the winds hit, they hit from the Southwest. But still, even at this point, I was unaware of how powerful this storm was growing into. I kept herding everyone along and around the back channel depression which was still full of water. As we skirted around the lagoon, Patricia decided she was ready for a swim. Never one to deny anyone a swim and ready for one myself, I said nothing. But by now the wind was really blowing hard, and I assumed she would realize that it might not be the best time. I kept going, and everyone except for Patricia & Volker followed. This was my single worst decision during the storm – one that could have had the worst results had anything happened to the two we left behind. Lightning strike or falling tree limbs were the main dangers. Not that I could have saved them from anything occurring, If a rescue had been necessary, or any first aid, time would have been critical.

I led the film crew (Lutz, Sabine, Marc & Marcus) quickly through the madly thrashing weeds & scrubby trees as the sand & dust blew all around us and the rain lashed at us stinging us as it hit parallel to the ground, and onward through blowing leaves & grass & limbs breaking off the trees, small branches snapping all around us, small trees breaking & cracking over – we then crouched and hunkered down into a small hollow below a big cottonwood log that provided shelter from anything big that might fall and also broke the wind somewhat.

I looked around in this partial sheltered area. It was then I realized that the two stars of the show, Mr. & Mrs.’Sippi were missing, Ohmigod! Our two German celebrities! I could see the headlines now in tomorrow’s Der Speigal: “Missing Poet & TV Personality. Storm hits during a film production on the Mississippi River. Expert guide goes nuts trying to locate them!” What a story that would make for the German morning press! I left the shelter of the log and the camaraderie of the huddle of German refugees and ran out into the howling wind & blowing sand to find them, the trees bent over like weeds, I ran as fast as I could with much difficulty back to edge of the bluff and looked over to where Patricia had gone in for her swim – Oh no! She & Volker were nowhere to be seen!

Day 12, Friday, July 17, Bells Point, Mile 845

A moody, threatening morning light, a shell shocked camp and storms still rolling in, low grey, moisture-suffused layers of cloud cover, feathering features, the sun arose behind a veil of moisture, a gauzy naples yellow, and then was tucked back into bed, my sleeping bag stinks like cat pee & me. I reluctantly arose and scraped myself out of my sandy wet tent, hung over and sore and apprehensive about the intensifying darkness, and then slogged through the wet mud into camp to find Mike sprawled out with my tarp & mosquito netting, the netting fallen from two crates he had arranged for protection, obviously failed, a doubtless miserable night for him as well, his new REI tent having been uprooted and blown into the fire yesterday during the onslaught of the storm, which had been built up high for the express purpose of keeping fire through the rain, when the winds hit it was blown into a frenzy and that was when Mike’s tent took wings and sailed into the inferno, fire & rain. But still the fire is smoldering and easily rekindled, hot water quickly rendered on the stove and fresh coffee brewed and then potatoes are fried in our cast aluminum Dutch Oven with 2" of canola oil, onions, garlic, and then 4 dozen eggs and cheese, 48 eggs stirred into a river-rat’s breakfast, several dozen tortillas are heated on the glowing coals and prayers are offered for being able to survive another day in the wilderness, and supplications made for God’s grace with today’s passage.

The brooding sky continues to knot its gnarly purple-black brow and streaming showers seem imminent as the lightning snake flickers its trickster tongue and bowling balls are heard rolling ominously closer and closer above us, and towards us, we feel more & more like we are overweight bowling pins set up on this sandbar for the final knockdown after yesterday’s initial blowdown!

I went ahead and made the wake up call early (6:30am) instead of going with the idea that we’d “sleep in” until 7am, Mike and I run around and give the morning two-hoot call, “wake it & shake it!” There is no rest for the river rat. Man has his will but God has his way.

845 from 888 = 43 miles, 110 miles to Memphis’ Mud Island, the Quapaws are singing the Sloop John B, “I want to go home, please let me go home!”

Day 13, Saturday, July 18, Wright’s Point Tamm Island, Mile 816

The sun rises on us full & strong, uncluttered by neither clouds nor cloaks of moisture, finally a chance to air & dry out, flocks of waders move upstream from some hidden sanctuary below us and the wind pushes full & steady out of the Northwest, God’s grace reaches us in this wind, let it flow! The wind whipping the south-flowing channel into choppy waves, the Germans disappear for a filming scene, the “drying out after the storm” scene, clothesline in the willows, drying the tents, the tarps, the wet clothes & pads & dry goods & the sleeping bags, an expedition spreading its wings in the morning sun like a storm-ravaged Cormorant perched at the head of a small wing dam towhead – the terns are crying for their loved ones, and the violent storms are pushed further and further away from us. Lil Mike and I did some river-rat recycling, located a stout pine pole for a main mast and erected a sail, added two cross pieces, a sycamore and an oak, and planted the flags on top, the stars & stripes with the yellow, red & black above, I know this is backwards, but our home flag is actually mothership earth, purple black below, red, yellow, green, and an endless sea of blue above, whirlpooling whites. Wanbli Mike left us in Caruthersville for obligations to the North, and us Quapaws continued on as we always have and always will, doing the work that no one else wants to do, that no one else can do, that no one has the stamina to maintain nor the pluck to venture.

The old moon approaching Venus in a smooth downward slide toward the horizon, Venus herself falling through Taurus to enter Orion, the Bull & the Hunter emerging in the pre-dawn sky after their long journey away, marking mid-summer and heralding autumn, the circles of life spinning endlessly around us, expressions of color & light, wind patterns & waves, song birds, bowel movements, the magical movements of animals & mad ambitions of men, the biologic clock, the endless rolling of moisture & chemical processes, the spiralling and upwelling and the course of the meandering river, sometimes enlightening, sometimes confounding, always endlessly challenging & sometimes rewarding in the longest movie ever made.

Rivergator Appendix X

St. Louis Points of Interest for Paddlers

Pere Marquette State Park

Route 100, PO Box 158

Grafton, IL 62037

618-786-3323

National Great Rivers Museum

Melvin Price Lock and Dam

#1 Lock and Dam Way

East Alton, Illinois

877-462-6979

Riverlands Migratory Bird Sanctuary

301 Riverlands Way

West Alton, MO 63386

phone: 636-899-0090

Camp River Dubois

Lewis & Clark Illinois State Historic Site

1 Lewis and Clark Trail (Route 3 at Poag Road)

Hartford, Illinois

618-251-5811

Columbia Bottom State Conservation Area

801 Strodtman Road

St. Louis, MO 63138

314-877-6014

Big Muddy Adventures

539 Scranton Ave

Riverview MO 63137

314-610-4241

website: http://www.2muddy.com

email: mike@2muddy.com

City Museum

Soldiers Memorial Military Museum

1315 Chestnut St.

St. Louis, MO

314-622-4550

Mary Meachum Crossing

Along the North Riverfront Trail near the trailhead above Merchants Bridge

314-584-6703

Great Arch

U.S. Army Engineer District, St. Louis

1222 Spruce Street

St. Louis, MO 63103-2835

(314) 331-8095

In Case of Emergency in the St. Louis Area:

US Coast Guard St. Louis Sector

(314) 269-2500

St. Louis Fire Dept Water Rescue Unit

1421 N. Jefferson Ave

St. Louis, Missouri

(314) 533-3406

Rivergator Appendix XI

Sainte Genevieve Points of Interest for Paddlers

Microtel Inn and Suites

21958 Missouri 32

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-8884

The Southern Hotel

146 S 3rd St

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-3493

Hotel Ste. Genevieve

9 North Main Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-3562

Inn St. Gemme Beauvais

78 North Main Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-5744

Anvil Restaurant & Saloon

46 S 3rd St

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-7323

Audubon's of Ste. Genevieve

9 North Main Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-2479

Station 2 Cafe

1 South Main Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-3600

Old Brick House

90 South 3rd Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-2724

Ozark Regional Library

21388 Missouri 32

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-3358

Nearby Points of Interest:

Ste. Genevieve Welcome Center

66 South Main Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-7097

Ste. Genevieve Museum

Merchant Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-3461

Felix Valle House State Historic Site

198 Merchant Street

Ste. Genevieve, MO 63670

(573) 883-7102

Rivergator Appendix XII

Chester, Illinois, Points of Interest for Paddlers

Best Western Reid's Inn

2150 State Street

Chester, IL 62233

(618) 826-3034

Ol' Farmhouse Cafe-Bakery

639 State Street

Chester, IL 62233

(618) 826-1870

Wally's Original

967 State Street

Chester, IL 62233

(618) 826-1524

Chester Public Library

733 State Street

Chester, IL 62233

(618) 826-3711

Nearby Points of Interest:

Segar Memorial Park (Statue of Popeye)

10 Truck Bypass

Chester, IL 62233

(618) 826-3171

Grand Tower, Illinois Accommodations and Restaurants:

Devil's Backbone Park Campgrnd

Brunkhorst Avenue

Grand Tower, IL 62942

(618) 684-6192

Cardinal Corner

409 Grand Tower Road

Grand Tower, IL 62942

(618) 565-1064

Nearby Points of Interest:

Mississippi River Museum & Interpretive Center

604 Main Street

Grand Tower, IL 62942

(618) 565-2227

Rivergator Appendix XIII

Cape Girardeau Points of Interest for Paddlers

Bellevue Bed & Breakfast

312 Bellevue Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 335-3302

Relax Inn

200 Morgan Oak Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63703

(573) 334-4431

Rose Bed Inn

611 South Sprigg Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63703

(573) 332-7673

Broussard's Cajun Cuisine

120 North Main Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 334-7235

Port Cape Girardeau

19 North Water Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 334-0954

Bella Italia

20 North Spanish Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 332-7800

Katy O'Ferrell's Publick House

300 Broadway Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 803-2896

Cape Girardeau Public Library

Public Library

711 N Clark St

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 334-5279

Academy Sports + Outdoors

270 Shirley Dr.

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 332-4960

Nearby Points of Interest:

VisitCape

400 Broadway Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63701

(573) 335-1631

Cape River Heritage Museum

538 Independence Street

Cape Girardeau, MO 63703

(573) 334-0405

Rivergator Appendix XIV

Cairo, Illinois, Points of Interest for Paddlers

Shemwell's Barbecue

1102 Washington Avenue

Cairo, IL 62914

(618) 734-0165

Nu Diner

300 Washington Avenue

Cairo, IL 62914

(618) 734-2373

Pizza Pro

1901 Washington Avenue

Cairo, IL 62914

(618) 734-0951

Cairo Public Library

1609 Washington Avenue

Cairo, IL 62914

(618) 734-1840

Rivergator Appendix XV

Hickman, Kentucky, Points of Interest for Paddlers

Broadway Pizza

1111 Broadway Street

Hickman, KY 42050

Hickman Public Library

812 Moscow Avenue

Hickman, KY 42050

(270) 236-2464

US Coast Guard

River Front

Hickman, KY 42050

(270) 236-2324

Rivergator Appendix XVI

New Madrid, Missouri, Points of Interest for Paddlers

Helmes Deli Gas Liquor

430 Main Street

New Madrid, MO 63869

(573) 748-7757

New Madrid Memorial Library

431 Mill Street

New Madrid, MO 63869

(573) 748-2378

Points of Interest:

New Madrid Historical Museum

1 South Main Street

New Madrid, MO 63869

(573) 748-5944

Hunter- Dawson State Historic Site

New Madrid, MO 63869

(573) 748-5340

Rivergator Appendix XVII

Caruthersville, Missouri, Points of Interest for Paddlers

Round Restaurant

820 W 3rd St

Caruthersville, MO 63830

(573) 333-1330

Casino Inn & Suites

407 E 4th St

Caruthersville, MO 63830

(573) 333-4333

A Little Pizza Heaven

505 Ward St

Caruthersville, MO 63830

(573) 333-0490

Granddad’s Deli

1709 South Truman Blvd

Caruthersville, MO 63830

(573) 333-3354

Pemiscot Office Supply

140 West 3^rd St

Caruthersville, MO 63830

(573) 333-4445

Grizzly Jig Co

303 Ward Ave

Caruthersville, MO 63830

(573) 333-9866

Caruthersville Library

707 W 13^th St

Caruthersville, MO 63830

(573) 333-2480

Best place to get water: Lady Luck RV Park

Best place to access the internet: Granddad’s Deli, Library

Rivergator Appendix XVIII

Bald Knob Cross

The Bald Knob Wilderness

Bald Knob Cross

Bald Knob Cross, officially known as the Bald Knob Cross of Peace, is a large white cross located in Alto Pass, Illinois, United States. The structure is 111 feet (34 m) tall and is visible, when lit at night, over an area of 7,500 square miles (19,000 km2). The base of the cross is 1,034 feet above sea level and overlooks the Shawnee National Forest. Originally completed in 1963, the cross itself stands 111 feet tall, is 22 feet square at the base, 16 feet square at the top and its arms extend 63 feet horizontally. The exterior white panels covering the cross are 4-inch architectural flat insulated metal panels while the base portion is covered in granite approximately 4-inches thick. The structure sits on a foundation of 730 tons of reinforced concrete that goes down 20 feet to bedrock. The steel framework weighs approximately 170 tons. Each of the four sides of the cross have a word inscribed into the granite: Peace, Hope, Faith, Charity.

Bald Knob Mountain was first suggested as an excellent site for a sunrise Easter service by Wayman Presley and Rev. William Lirely after the 1936 Easter service. The first such service was held in 1937, with 250 attendees, and has been held annually since. From 1984 to 1986 there was a Passion Play held in conjunction with the Easter service. After the site was acquired, the Cross was built in stages with money from various fundraisers, the most famous of which was that of Myrta Clutts and her pigs.

The Bald Knob Cross adjoins the Bald Knob Wilderness, a federally designated U.S. wilderness area covering the western slope of the mountain which the cross surmounts.

The Bald Knob Wilderness

The Bald Knob Wilderness is a 5,973-acre (24.2 km²) parcel of land listed as a Wilderness Area of the United States. It is, by acreage, the largest wilderness area located within the U.S. state of Illinois. It is located within the Shawnee National Forest in northwestern Union County, Illinois. As with other wilderness areas within Shawnee National Forest, the Bald Knob Wilderness is made of second-growth forested areas that were used, until the land condemnations of the 1930s, as agriculture land. The United States Forest Service, which manages the wilderness, describes it as a land of "homestead[s], fruit trees, cemeteries, and abandoned roads."[1] The steep western slope of Bald Knob, a high hill or low mountain within the Shawnee Hills region of far southern Illinois, was never good ground for agriculture. Firewood was cut here and farmers tried to use the region's well-watered, temperate climate to grow orchard fruits such as apples. Shawnee National Forest was created in 1939, and in 1990, the Illinois Wilderness Act set aside seven separate parcels of land within this National Forest as relatively small wilderness areas. The Bald Knob Wilderness, one of these parcels, is a roadless parcel of land within the national forest. Visitors by road to the Bald Knob Cross, as they drive up the east side of the mountain to the cross, skirt the Bald Knob Wilderness on their drive. As with the mountaintop cross, the nearest municipality is Alto Pass, Illinois. The Bald Knob Wilderness borders the Clear Springs Wilderness, which lies to the north and west. The two wilderness parcels are separated by Hutchins Creek. Both wildernesses are served by the River to River Trail. (From Wikipedia)

Rivergator Appendix XIX

Water Ram Dugout Canoe Journal 2002

Sunday, Dec 14

Coming around the top end of Pelican Island I could see the Illinois bluffs in the blue distance, the hills above the Illinois River where it joins the Mississippi. Ever since coming into St. Charles the Missouri River has widened and slowed. Free of bluffs on its northern bank it is now in the floodplain of its mother, the mother river to which all rivers flow, the mother Mississippi, my mother Mississippi, my river, the waters I was baptized in, the flowing that forever flows through my veins and in my dreams. Suddenly it is November 1982 an Sean and I are rafting into St. Louis. Another circle completed in my life. We had eaten pig snoot at a downhome café on the streets of Alton the night before and this day were passing the Missouri confluence. We overshot the entrance to the Chain of Rocks Canal. Following bad advice given us upstream we thought we needed to take the Chain (much later I learned this was not necessary). We laboriously backtracked up to the mouth of the canal, which involved hauling the raft along the loose banks of rip-rap, one of us pulling by rope, the other pushing with sweep oar. I clearly remember looking up the mouth of the Missouri as it came careening into the Mississippi, masses of brown water swirling violently out of its channel, causing the sedentary Mississippi much commotion, white water, boils and whirlpools. I thought to myself: “wow! Here is a wild river!” And now here I am canoeing down that same wild muddy expanse that opened my eyes and my imagination in 1982, the river the hands opening my mind the reluctant mussel shell.

This year the Missouri is much calmer, due to the low water and the drought. The water more greenish/sienna like the lower Mississippi, there isn’t much commotion at the mouth. Still, this is a wild river. You can feel its muscles bulging like those of the neck of a sleeping giant by the huge sandbars on the insides of its great bends. You can see it in the piles of driftwood jammed into the disheveled rafts at the tops of wing dams and the trees at the heads of the islands. The bends themselves are of such curvature and rhythm that only big water could have been their creator. If the Mississippi is the mother, the Missouri’s the father.

The current seems to be slowing as we near the confluence, the two great rivers looping in grand proportion as they ease their way towards each other, the Missouri entering the valley of the Mississippi as the bluffs fall away and the floodplain widens, the Mississippi straighter, more direct in its approach from the north, the Missouri meandering, less purposeful, equally powerful and sure of itself, just taking its time as it reaches the conclusion of its continental journey. Perhaps it is hesitant to relinquish its water to the Mississippi, not wanting to be the underdog, it the big dog on the block for the length of 2,500 miles and seven states, every river it has encountered unto this confluence, the Marias, the Milk, the Yellowstone, the Platte, the Kansas, the Grand, has been its junior. Perhaps uncertain that it wants its muddiness diluted with the green waters of the Mississippi, as the Mississippi seems to hesitate as it nears the Ohio prior to their junction at Cairo, and resists the occurrence in forming two great loops. The waters of the West mixing with those of the North, the Rockies with the Heartland, the Great Plains with the Great North Woods, the brown mud of Montana with the black tannin and humus of Minnesota, slowly they approach, then distance themselves, again turn towards one another, the turn away, sashay left, do-se-do, sashay right, until the last of the bluffs decompose on the St. Louis side and there is nothing bu the width of the floodplain that separates them, still the Missouri makes two or three big bends in its last five miles, and then there it is, the riverscape opens up, the two become the one, as the many always becomes the one, promenade!, the waters come together, run together, run into each other, the rush of air as the blackbirds stop talking in individual voices, a hush of sound, then they fly as one, there is no more conversation , no more in-fighting and squabbling, the motion of the flock distinguishes all. All of the coulees, washes, creeks & streams, trickles & seeps & springs of the all combine with the marshes, swamps, wetlands & watersheds of the North, and the many voices of the water, the trickles and swooshes, the tinkling of sandbar waves and the roaring of rapids, all become folded into one river, the mother river, and they become silent, but all the more powerful, “don’t say nothing must know something…” the babbling voices of a continent all become one solidified being, silent, moody, meandering, cold & mysterious, coy & dangerous, touched by many & unfathomable, served by all in its vicinity & slave to none.

Now I have traveled where before existed only dreams, and now my imagination is again enlarged and is spreading its canopy wide over the horizon.

Sunday, Dec 15

The Noise, the stench, the never-ending light, the assault on the senses, all senses, only my feet know some pleasure, I took off my shoes and walked barefoot yesterday, at sundown around he sandbar on which we’re camped, and then into the woods o watch the burning globe settle into the earth through the framework created by the trees and their branches. Little black knives of fish heads cutting out of the surface of the river, the eddy in which we’re camped, the seagulls flying over and eyeing the heads slicing outward, looking for an opportunity, splashing down when one arises near, sometimes coming out with a little squirming fish (the other seagulls crowd around and try to steal it away), sometimes not.

We have so distanced ourselves from the outdoors in our insulated lives that we have no comprehension of the physical assault our civilization makes upon the natural world. The steady throb of a diesel fuel pump alone pollutes miles and miles of river upstream and down. Spend a single night outdoors camped near a city or town and you will come to see the numbing effect we have on the rest of creation. The internal combustion engine is the bane of peace and enlightenment.

Yesterday afternoon Mike and I distanced ourselves from the oil barge offloading on the Illinois shore, but its steady hum infected me all night and I awoke in a foul mood, ready-to-kill. Anticlimactic was my arrival at the confluence, the Mississippi a mess of refineries and oil docks, a trapped raccoon seen in the muddy tannic waters, caught in the crawl of escape, its intestines distended through its furry belly, its hair falling off in clumps as it decomposes. Over Illinois are seen nothing but power lines, refineries, tugboats, dry docks, oil docks, empty grain barges and full oil barges.

How wistfully I have been looking up the swoop of trees an muddy banks of the Missouri, which leaves the channel of the Mississippi and curves slowly westward. This river which has caused me so much pain and duress, stress, anguish, tears. So many times I buckled down and paddled harder just to have the journey over and done with, moments of enlightenment framed within hours of misery. So often I have envisioned this confluence and first handedly experienced the pleasure of passing mile one and then reaching the sparkling waters of my mother Mississippi, I pictured the joy & euphoria I would feel, the relief of arrival, I would dance for sheer joy. Today I arrived and felt nothing but repulsion and numbness. Repulsion with the industrial wasteland created in this place that was once a place of beauty, the annoying engines, the disgusting way man has done the river, numbness from my aching arms and river-weary body, the exhaustion of the river overwhelming all other feelings. There is nothing to be happy about. We have left Wanbli. He saw us to the end, to the last mile of our journey. Every day to the last day he cried and watched over us. And coyote carried me on in my dreams and then led me to the river’s mouth. But the disturbing scene of the raccoon caught in the act of escape in an underwater tomb. It reminded me of the horrible glimpse of a trapped animal we had in Iowa, again a coon caught, this time in a hunter’s bucket, his back feet caught eternally in a struggle to back out. I wonder what trap I am sticking my head into? Will I be frozen into eternity, my arms and legs flailing and frozen in rigor mortis in my attempt to escape? What is trapping me an what is my freedom? Dear lord, please help me recognize the traps and my tormentors and lead me unto enlightenment.

Rivergator Appendix XX

Low Water 2012

The seesaw from too much to too little water may be a sign of what’s to come as manmade global warming intensifies the water cycle, leading to more precipitation extremes, both heavy rains and drought events.

Historically, the winter lows for streamflow at St. Louis occur in late December through January, according to Steve Buan, a hydrologist with the National Weather Service in Chanhassen, Minn. According to NOAA data, January-November 2012 ranked as the third-driest such period on record for the Mississippi River basin north of Memphis, behind the Dust Bowl years of 1936 and 1934.

At the New Madrid Gage, in New Madrid, Mo., the Mississippi reached a record high of 48.35 feet on May 6, 2011. Just 15 months later, on Aug. 30, 2012, the gauge reading dropped to a record low of minus 5.32 feet. (River gauges are calibrated to a particular elevation, known as a “zero datum,” which means that they don’t always equal the depth of water in the channel. So in this case, the record low was 5.32 feet below the zero-datum elevation at New Madrid.)

In particular, the approximately 180-mile stretch of the Mississippi River between Cairo, Ill., and St. Louis is of the most concern for low-water levels, according to Victor Murphy, climate services program manager for the National Weather Service’s Southern Region in Dallas. The low water in the area is in stark contrast to 2011, when the Army Corps of Engineers was forced to blow up a levee near Cairo, flooding farmland, in order to save the town from devastating flooding.

One especially treacherous low-water section of the Mississippi is currently located near the town of Thebes, Illinois, where submerged rocks, known as “pinnacles,” jab toward the surface of the river, threatening to ground passing vessels.

On Monday, the Army Corps announced plans to release more water from Carlyle Lake in Illinois to aid in safe navigation along the Mississippi near Thebes, and the agency is also planning to blast submerged rocks and conduct dredging operations to keep barges and ships from running aground.

"Water from the lake will help provide the depth necessary for river commerce to pass Thebes, Illinois, where rock formations pose a risk to navigation at minus 5 feet and below on the St. Louis gage," the Corps said in a press release. The Corps said the water releases will provide an additional six inches of depth in this critical stretch of the river.

(From Climate Central)

Rivergator Appendix XXI

Mississippi River

Long Distance Expeditions 2014

This list was compiled by the “Irish Voyageur” John Sullivan, kayaker, hydrologist, adventurer and manager of the Facebook group Mississippi River Paddlers.

Mississippi River Paddlers starting at the source in 2014 (John Sullivan, 1/4/2015)

2014 Mississippi River Challenge (Tim Muhich, Clinton Adams, Boot Baweja & Colin Bright) – May 10^th

Trip ended in Natchez, MS on May 29^th!

Anders Carlson & Sean Karvonen – May 14^thFinished July 25^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Aleks Tweeter Nelson – May 17^th Finished July 28^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Gus LeSavage – May 17^th stopped at St. Louis

Joshua Ploetz – May 19^thFinished July 28th at the Gulf of Mexico

Conor Emser, Tony Yandek, Evan Weisenberger & Beau Hartman – May 20^thFinished at New Orleans July 12^th

Shane Westen – July 4^th Status unknown

Graham Jordison - July 14^thFinished September 14^th at New Orleans

Kyle Harms – May 23^rd Finished Oct ? below New Orleans ?

James Welborn – May 25^thFinished September 9^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Ellen Mcdonah – May 25^th Finished September 8^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Nic Doucette & Gabe Vasquez - May 31^stFinished August 9^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Thorin Loeks – June 1^stFinished September 17^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Ilya Kulchitskiy – June 1^st Stopped at St. Louis July 29th

Rich Brand – June 3^rdFinished September 28^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Alanna Mays and Mike Slay – June 13^th ended at Vicksburg, MS August 31^st

Jon Thole & Zachary Johnson – June 20^thFinished August 17^t^h at the Gulf of Mexico

Cameron Smith – June 30^th Finished November 5^th at Lake Pontchartrain

Kevin Berrigan, Scott Lehmann & Gabriel Paulone - July 9^thFinished September 20th at the Gulf of Mexico

Linda and Gary DeKock – July 19^thFinished September 26^th at mile 0.

John Pritchard & Paddy Broughton - August 2^ndFinished October 25^th at New Orleans

Ewaut Van Wassenhove – August ^4thFinished at New Orleans

Johnny Rebel & Yvonne Wrobell (Crazy Critters) – August 5^thFinished at Lulin, LA December 1^st

Ken Robertshaw & Grace Alsancak – August 7^th Finished October 4^that mile 0

Jonathon Berg – August 7^thFinished at New Orleans October 30^th

Amy Lauterbach & Jim Yurchenco – August 12^th Finished October 8^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Jim Beck – August 15^thFinished November 6^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Grace Kluesner – August 17^thFinished November 26^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Jason StriDer Lape & Noble Stevenson Jennette – August 23^rd Finished November 13^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Eddy Harris - August 25^thFinished in New Orleans in December?

Jared McCallum – September 1^stFinished October 30^th at Baton Rouge

Adventure Mississippi River (Jordan Hanssen, Greg Spooner, Markus Pukonen, & Pat Fleming) – September 2^nd

Finished November 25^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Rob Warner & Joe Simon – September 8^thFinished November 8^th at mile 0

Adrienne Brown & Alyce Kuenzli – September 8^thFinished November 18^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Maggi Crotty & Timothy Wenzel – September 21^stFinished ? at mile 0

Other Paddlers Paddling Most of the Mississippi River in 2014

Max Oak Kaprov, Year 2 of his trip. Finished November 18^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Zachary Taylor Smith – Started July 14^th near La Crosse Finished September 25^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Kary & Kris Johnson – Started July 28^th near Hayward, WI finished September 26^that New Orleans

Matt Hanks – Started in Minneapolis August 24^th – Reached Morgan City Nov. 6^th then on to Dallas, TX Dec. 20th

Colin Jungwirth - Started on the Wisconsin River at Stevens Point at Morgan City November 29^th

IIan Levine – Started above Prairie du Chien and Finished at New Orleans August 8^th

Adam Larson – Year 2 of his trip. Finished November 14^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Steve Arsenault – Started at Lake Bemidji – September 3^rdFinished November 18^that the Gulf of Mexico

Steven Slater – Started at Anoka – September 10^thStill sailing and paddling

Abe and Nate Dicks - Started at Grand Rapids April 14^th Finished June 6^th at New Orleans

John Colbert – Year 2 of his trip. Started near Byron, MN on the Zumbro R. Finished October 18^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Jake Andersen – Year 2 of his trip. Started on the Des Moines River, Finished June 24^th at the Gulf of Mexico

Tyler Zirk and Cody Sommers – Started in Minneapolis June 16^thFinished at August 16^th at Venice

Bill “One gallon” Nedderman – Started on May 28^th at Duluth, Mn on Lake Superior then to Lakes Huron and Michigan, then up the Fox River in, then down the Wisconsin to the Mississippi. He reached Intracoastal Waterway November 6^th at Morgan City then went on to Dallas, TX where he finished December 20^th

Rivergator Appendix XXII

Full Length Mississippi River Paddling Information

This originally appeared in the BackpackingLight.com Forum in November, 2014, written by Amy Lauterbach, after her expedition paddling the entire length of the Mississippi with her companion James. We include Amy’s writing in its entirety as an excellent synopsis paddling the length of the river, of what challenges long distance paddlers face, and how to deal with them, from the perspective of a person starting Mississippi source point, Lake Itasca, Minnesota (as opposed to Rivergator start place at the Missouri River Confluence).

Introduction

From August 12 to October 8, 2014, we (Amy and James) spent 58 days canoeing the Mississippi River from its source to the Gulf of Mexico. This document focuses on information for those who might like to take this journey someday. We were inspired to take this trip when we read GermanTourist’s trip report on BackpackingLight forums. Our report does not include a day-by-day log of our adventure.

We both learned to canoe as children. Amy spent a week paddling in Quetico thirty-odd years ago, but that is the extent of our overnight canoeing experience. We had never canoed together. We are very experienced hikers and are used to living in a tent for many weeks at a time, but canoeing a big river was an entirely novel undertaking. This is the context for our report: we have assembled information we found useful based on our particular trip, but we are by no means experts on this river or on the craft of paddling a canoe.

Why Paddle the Mississippi River? We are hikers, not paddlers, so the decision to paddle the Mississippi River caught us by surprise. Jim read a trip report about paddling the river, came into the room where I was sitting, said “Christine paddled the Mississippi, and she says it’s a trip that a well prepared, fit, novice paddler can complete. Let’s do it.” I read her trip report and agreed. The decision making process took about five minutes.

As Americans, the Mississippi River is our river. It is one of the world’s grandest rivers, and it’s possible to paddle the entire length without serious risk and with very few hassles. Mark Twain put it on the map as an American literary landmark. It passes through diverse physical and cultural landscapes. The economic impact of its barge traffic is enormous. The river is a magnificent juxtaposition of intense commerce and intense isolation. The trip is easily achievable in a single season, even at a leisurely pace.

In 2014 there were at least 70 people who set out to paddle the Mississippi River from Lake Itasca to the Gulf. At least 50, and likely more, completed the trip. John Sullivan attempts to maintain a list and publishes it on the Mississippi River Paddlers Facebook page. Paddling the river is a significant undertaking, yet the trip is not complicated. Many millions of people live within 100 miles of the river, yet few people make the journey. In 2013, 658 people summited Mount Everest, 700+ thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail, and perhaps 50 paddled the Mississippi River from its source to the Gulf of Mexico. Because few people paddle the entire river, it still has the feeling of a grand adventure.

James' Personal Summary

I entered this trip as a highly experienced long-distance backpacker, reasonably experienced dirt-road bicycle tourist, and completely novice canoeist. The trip seemed like an ideal way to try out a new means of human powered travel and a chance to see a part of the country I didn’t know very well and we were unlikely to travel in otherwise. We were inspired by our friend Christine (GermanTourist), who we met here on the BackpackingLight forums; she paddled the river in 2012 in a folding kayak.

Our trip was fascinating to me. The entire river corridor was so much wilder feeling than I ever imagined. We essentially traveled through riverine forest for the entire trip except where towns and cities are located. The forests look healthy and are not marred by clear-cuts. No corn or soybean fields or cow pastures down to the water’s edge. The settled areas were mostly very compact and in the Lower Mississippi often were frequently not even visible from the water. Outside of the tows below Minneapolis and weekend powerboats above it, there is extraordinarily little river traffic. In the headwaters section, we once went three days without seeing a single other person either on the water or on the banks. We were pleasantly surprised by how much of our trip felt like more of a wilderness experience than that of traveling a watery freeway through civilization.

I enjoyed the process of paddling and soon became very comfortable with our boat. I felt safe, secure, and felt we could control it well enough to deal with any situation we were likely to have. Although at times various bits of my body hurt, I never felt debilitated and rarely felt worn out at the end of a day’s paddling.

We were fortunate with generally great weather, few delays at locks, helpful and friendly people we met along the way, and no breakdowns of equipment. We had decent campsites every night and very often had great ones. The only real hassle were the mosquitoes.

I wish we had found a way to be comfortable with leaving our boat and gear unattended so we could have explored the riverside towns more than we did. To me, that was the biggest negative of the trip.

Overall, the trip was a great experience and I am very glad that we did it. I would unhesitatingly recommend to anyone with a sense of adventure and a willingness to try something out of the ordinary to take this trip.

Amy's Personal Summary

Most of what Jim said is true for me too.

I love the rhythm of moving forward along a path, day after day. It is the same satisfaction I get from a long-distance walking or biking trip. Much of the day is very routine – sleep, eat, pack, move forward, stop a few times to eat, find a campsite, setup camp, eat, sleep. Repeat over and over again. Superimposed on top of that very stable routine are the unexpected highlights and memorable events.

On this trip, my most satisfying highlights were the people we met along the way. Fun, outgoing, gracious, generous, cheerful, encouraging people at every place we stopped. Many times we went for two or three days without seeing anybody, and then we’d stop somewhere and inevitably be greeted by the nicest people we could hope to meet.

And then there were many isolated unpredictable highlights that mean so much. Weeks of being surrounded all day by hundreds of migrating swallows feeding near the surface of the water. A single full albino Barn Swallow, looking magical as it swooped around our canoe. The ethereal calls of loons in the northern reaches of the river. Hours of floating down glassy calm water surrounded by floodplain forests, nary a care in the world. Flocks of hundreds or thousands of White Pelicans. Many five-star campsites on beautiful huge sandbars. Dozens of beautiful sunrises and sunsets. The view of bridges from below delighted me every time.

I was very pleasantly surprised by the minimal industry on the river, as I expected far worse. In fact, the industrial areas on the river are very limited and isolated. In the headwaters section the river corridor was beautiful and most of it felt wild. In the Upper River, each lock and dam was a massive structure, but once away from a lock, the river corridor was most often surrounded by riparian forests with little sign of human activity. On the lower river, the wingdams and revetment were essentially always present, but for 90% of the miles those were the only signs of human activity. Visually, I found this to be a very beautiful trip, however I was irritated that the Army Corps has so thoroughly messed with the river south of Minneapolis.

North of Saint Louis I enjoyed everything about the trip, except the tough Blanchard Dam portage where I slipped and hurt my back. I enjoyed the diversity of habitat, from the Spruce forest to the marshes to the lakes to the maple floodplain forests. I enjoyed the paddling itself, the small towns, the swimming, and the campsites.

South of Saint Louis, I had a love-it / fear-it relationship with the river. I never got comfortable with the giant river and her giant tows. There were tows between Minneapolis and Saint Louis, but they were smaller and less frequent, and the river itself seemed more manageable. South of Saint Louis, and especially south of Cairo, I simply could not shed the fear that we would capsize and find ourselves in the shipping channel. I felt we had full control of the canoe, and we had fabulous weather nearly every day on the big river, with glassy calm water nearly every day, so we never came close to capsizing. I’m sure my fear was grounded in the fact that we had no river paddling experience prior to this trip, and I did not feel “at home” like I do when hiking or riding my bike.

Two things likely exacerbated my fear. First was that the river went into flood stage when we reached Saint Louis, the volume doubled, the current increased noticeably, and the load of logs was substantial. Second was the absence of recreational users south of Saint Louis. Given the abundant recreational use of the river north of Saint Louis, I was shocked by the near total absence of recreational use to the south – in 800 miles of river travel we saw perhaps a dozen people using the river recreationally, either from pleasure boats or fishing from shore.

Once we crossed from the Mississippi to the Atchafalaya, I relaxed again and enjoyed that final week very much. I enjoyed the Cajun bayous, the small towns, the alligators, and the scenery. I am 100% sure we made the right decision to take the Atchafalaya River to the Gulf, instead of paddling through the heavy boat traffic areas south of Baton Rouge.

Overall I'd summarize this as a five-star trip for its combination of scenery, cultural diversity, fabulous encounters with local people, great campsites, and relatively easy logistics. I regret that I carried the fear while on the Lower River, as it interfered with an otherwise thoroughly enjoyable and magnificent outing.

Geography

The Mississippi River is the main stem of the largest drainage system in North America. The river currently runs about 2300 river miles from its source at Lake Itasca in Minnesota to its termination at South Pass in the Gulf of Mexico. The river passes through or borders ten states: Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Louisiana. The average discharge at its mouth is 590,000 cubic feet per second; this is equivalent to over 1840 tons of water passing a fixed point in one second or well over 100,000 tons of water per minute. For more information on the river see Wikipedia.

From a paddler’s point of view, the river divides into five logical segments: the Headwaters, the Upper Mississippi, the Middle Mississippi, the Lower Mississippi, and the Outlet. Each segment has its own distinct characteristics and flavor.

The Headwaters is the most scenically diverse portion of the river and runs 484 river miles from the put-in at Itasca (river mile 1338, measured north from the confluence with the Ohio River) to river mile 854 at Upper Saint Anthony Lock in Minneapolis, the largest city on the river. Narrow and shallow early miles, extensive marshlands, coniferous-forested riversides, some huge lakes, easily accessible towns, the longest unpopulated stretch of water, and many portages characterize this stretch of water. There is significant recreational use, primarily on the lakes behind the dams.

The Upper Mississippi runs 664 miles from the first lock (river mile 854) to the last lock (river mile 190) in St. Louis. This section includes 29 sets of locks and dams that must be negotiated by the paddler. The river gets big and carries commercial traffic in the form of tows (see the Tow section below). Towns are relatively frequent and are usually easily accessible. There is lots of recreational use on this section of the river.

The Middle Mississippi runs for 190 miles from Saint Louis to the confluence with the Ohio River. The Army Corps of Engineers designates this as part of the "Upper Mississippi" however, from a paddlers point of view, it is similar in nature to the Lower Mississippi.

The Lower Mississippi runs from the confluence with the Ohio River (Upper River mile 0, Lower River mile 954) for 650 miles to the Old River Lock (river mile 303.8). It is really big, having absorbed the Missouri, which doubles its flow and the Ohio, which doubles it again. We encountered many big tows every day, but almost no recreational users. There are neither locks nor portages. Towns are much less frequent and resupply access to them is more complicated.

At the Old River Lock, a paddler can chose between two Outlet options. Transiting to the Atchafalaya River is one way to complete a Mississippi River trip to the Gulf, and this is the route we chose. Details about this are in the Atchafalaya Exit section below. The second option is to continue on the Lower Mississippi River through Baton Rouge and New Orleans. The stretch of the river from the Gulf of Mexico up to Baton Rouge is navigable by ocean-going vessels and is the busiest port in the Western Hemisphere, moving some 400 million tons of cargo a year. Many paddlers have reported the river from Baton Rouge south can be very intimidating.

Logistics

We drove a one-way rental car from California to Bemidji, MN. We dropped our canoe and gear at the southern end of Lake Itasca, Jim returned the car and hitched back to Itasca. At the end of the trip, we were given a ride to New Iberia, got a one-way rental car, and drove ourselves home. We thus avoided having having to ship our canoe and gear. There is no public transit between Bemidji and Itasca.

Some people finish their trips at river mile 100 in New Orleans. Some finish at Head of Passes Junction at river mile zero. Some paddle further south approximately 15 more miles all the way to the Gulf. Some finish via the Atchafalaya River, either at the Gulf or at Morgan City. There are many other possible variations, since the region is an intricately interconnected series of waterways. By finishing our trip at Burns Point Recreation Area (see the Atchafalaya map), we were able to easily hitchhike to a sizeable town from a staffed boat ramp. Other destinations may require arranging a boat pickup, hoping to hitch a ride on a passing boat, or paddling back upstream to a boat ramp.

We know of three parties in 2014 that had a ground crew. One was a group attempting to set a speed record. The second was a high-budget trip using rowboats and hotel accommodations. And the third had a professional film crew making a documentary movie. We believe that all other paddlers travelled without dedicated ground support.

Not including the travel costs to get to Bemidji or to return home from New Iberia, our trip cost about $23 per person per day. One could easily spend less or more, depending on how you chose to feed yourself. We stayed in a hotel only once, and we paid for a campsite only once; the vast majority of our expenses were for food. We ate in restaurants or cafes about 20 times; the rest of our meals came from grocery stores.

Watercraft

People have paddled or rowed the Mississippi in kayaks, canoes, stand-up paddleboards, rowboats and rafts. In the headwaters upstream of Minneapolis, in order to paddle from Lake Itasca to Minneapolis you must be able to portage your craft numerous times to get around beaver and power dams. Because of this, kayaks and canoes are the most viable watercraft options. South of Minneapolis no portages are required. Some people use canoes in the uppermost reaches of the river and then switch to kayaks or rowboats in Minneapolis. Here is a summary of the watercraft used by 2014 thru-paddlers that we know of:

• 16 people used two-man canoes (eight parties of two).

• 9 people used solo canoes (all were traveling solo).

• 2 people used a double kayak (one party of two).

• 18 people used single kayaks (in parties of one to four).

• 6 people used pairs of two-man rowboats (one party of four, and a second party of two that had guests join for short stints to fill the additional seats).

When we decided to paddle the Mississippi we did not own either a kayak or a canoe, and had no basis for choosing one over the other. We knew we wanted to share one boat, and initially considered a tandem kayak. However, we eventually decided that a canoe would be a better choice for the two of us. The key factors for us were ease of access to gear, ease of ingress and egress into the boat, paddling position variability, and the smaller length and lighter weight of our chosen boat. We did not regret our choice at any point in the trip.

Equipment

We bought a used Kevlar Souris River Quetico 17 canoe. With various modifications we made to the boat, it weighed about 44 pounds, making it easy to carry on portages, at campsites, and town stops. We are novice canoeists so cannot compare the performance of our boat against other canoes, but were extremely happy with the Quetico. It was roomy, stable, fast, and easy to maneuver. In the roughest water we paddled, we took on minor amounts of water only on a couple of occasions and which just required a sponge to bail out the boat.

We designed and built a fabric cover that protected the center portion of the canoe. It was supported on a lightweight fiberglass wand attached to the two secondary thwarts. The cover shielded all of our gear from directly sunlight and shed a lot of the rain and splashing so less water collected in the canoe. It also helped deflect crosswinds that might catch on the inside of the boat. It was very easy to attach and detach using a cord that wrapped around small buttons we screwed to the gunwales. We were very satisfied with the cover’s performance.

We also bonded nylon tie down loops to the inside of the canoe and used them to clip a cargo net over all of our gear. This was very easy to attach and detach and enabled us to tightly secure our load to the bottom of the canoe where it couldn’t shift around.

We used Zaveral (ZRE) Power Surge Flatwater Medium paddles and we liked them a lot. Made of carbon fiber, these bent shaft models weighed about 10 ounces. Given that a Mississippi trip will require well over a million individual paddle strokes, having a lightweight paddle makes a difference.

We used the same lightweight tent, pads, and sleeping quilt we use on our backpacking trips. We packed everything in light duty dry bags that we put inside lightweight frameless packs so we could easily portage our gear. We carried our food in a 20-litre dry bag and a 30-litre mesh bag.

We carried a SPOT tracker, 2 iPhones, an iPod, a marine radio, and a camera. We kept these charged with a Suntactics solar charger.

Many paddlers do not carry a VHF Marine Radio. We carried a Standard Horizon HX300, a model we chose simply because it was rechargeable via USB. We used the radio to communicate with the lockmasters, and it was worth it for that purpose alone. Also, we listened to channel 13, used by tow pilots to communicate with each other. After listening to channel 13 for a few weeks, and after learning from a retired barge deckhand that it is appropriate for recreational boats to speak on channel 13, we did speak with tow pilots on a few occasions. Finally, the VHF radio is by far the most effective way to request assistance if you have a life-threatening emergency in the water.

Our entire load, skin out, including canoe, paddles, electronics, camping gear, all clothing, repair kit, PDF’s, dry bags and so forth weighed 116 pounds. Food and water added to that. A lot more weight than lightweight backpacking, but not heavy compared to what we understand other people travel with.

We carried paper copies of the Minnesota DNR maps (Lake Itasca to Hastings MN), and the Army Corps charts (Hastings to the Gulf).

All of these maps are available in pdf format from the links above. These maps are very detailed, showing features both on the river and in the surrounding countryside. River miles are marked so you can easily tell how far you have traveled and the maps show where the riverbank lights and mile-markers are located. In our opinion, these are necessary and sufficient in terms of paper maps. We carried them in a waterproof map case and consulted them frequently while paddling.

We also downloaded USGS topographic maps, and Google satellite images of the entire route and surrounding areas into our iPhone. We used Gaia GPS as our primary navigation application. We have carried this tool for many years and have found it to be reliable and quite useful. Of course it’s possible to paddle the entire river without a GPS device, but we found it very helpful on numerous occasions and we were glad we had it.

To communicate with the lock masters, we carried a Marine VHF Radio. You can possibly communicate with the lockmasters via telephone. Note that we tried to use a phone only once and on that occasion reached a message center and not a human.

Phone numbers for USACE Lock and Dams.

These sites enable you obtain real time river flow data that is very helpful in choosing paddling routes and campsites and being aware of possible flood conditions:

NOAA streamflow graphs - choose "Stage/Forecast Graph in the right column.
River flow in Minnesota.
River flow for the Upper Mississippi River.
River flow for the Lower Mississippi River.
USGS flow gages.

We also used iPhone apps to view river flow data, including the recent past and the 7 day forecast and found them to be easy ways to look at streamflow data. Rivercast, Streamflow Plus. There were other apps available that we didn't try.

We also used this Army Corps site to check the status of locks.

RiverGator.org is an enormously useful website for the Lower Mississippi. It is the brainchild of John Ruskey, a long time river paddler who has been systematically detailing everything he knows about paddling on the lower river. As of 2014, he has completed documenting the stretch from Caruthersville to Vicksburg and has stated that he is working on finishing the rest of the lower river.

Ruskey describes the both the main channel and alternative back channels. The back channels are sometimes a bit longer and sometimes shorter than the main channel and provide routes in quiet backwaters behind islands where the tows don’t go. And most importantly, he includes information about what the water levels need to be to ensure that the alternative routes are passible. At low water, many back channels are closed due to emergent wing dams or sand bars and you need to know this before you commit to entering one, unless you like retracing your steps or doing unplanned portages. We paddled as many back channels as possible and never regretted it and found Ruskey’s data was invaluable.

RiverGator also recommends good campsites and includes a lot of interesting and relevant historical and cultural information about the river. We were extremely grateful for all the work that Ruskey has done.

There are two Facebook groups that are useful places to connect with other paddlers, both those currently on the water and those who have previously paddled the river. You may also be able to connect with people who live along the river and are willing to help paddlers with food, lodging, transportation, and/or advice.

Mississippi River Paddlers Facebook group.
Lower Mississippi River Paddlers Facebook group.

Trip Duration

About half of the 2014 thru-paddlers completed the trip in 8 to 10 weeks. Below is a list of reported trip lengths. The numbers are elapsed times, not the number of days on the river.

• 8 weeks: 4 parties

• 9 weeks: 4 parties

• 10 weeks: 6 parties

• 11 weeks: 3 parties

• 12 weeks: 4 parties

• 14 weeks: 1 party

• 15 weeks: 2 parties

• 16 weeks or longer: 5 parties

We took 58 days with an Atchafalaya exit; we took no zero days, paddled 8 to 10 hours a day and only lost a few partial days to bad weather. We think we had shorter than average delays at locks. We had a lot of serendipitous volunteer assistance for re-supply activities. We enjoyed socializing during meals and at campsites, but we didn't spend much time off the water visiting museums or other points of interest. We rarely dawdled when paddling, however we rarely paddled very hard. We had good equipment, not a lot of it, and knew how to do everything except canoe before we started the trip. We were well prepared and carried a lot of navigational data so we knew what to expect downstream. We were two people paddling one canoe; a solo canoeist would likely travel more slowly; a kayaker might be a bit faster. If you travel on your own, then you have to do everything by yourself instead of being able to share community tasks.

Trip duration is highly dependent on water levels and wind. Depending on the water temperature and skill of the paddler, when the wind is strong enough to kick up whitecaps, it may be unsafe to be on the water. With mild headwinds and manageable choppy water, our daily distances were reduced by 20 to 40%. In strong winds we were forced off the river entirely. When the river is high, the current is stronger and faster, and there are more options to take the shorter route around inside curves over the top of wing dams and sandbars and to make use of backchannel shortcuts. High water also brings debris.

Timing

When should you start your trip? You may not have any idea as to how far you can paddle on a given day. Distances covered will be affected by current or lack of it, wind and weather, lock delays or not, resupply activities (that sometimes can be surprisingly time consuming), your physical and mental state and so forth. It is impossible to create a day-to-day plan for paddling this river.

Among factors we considered in deciding when to start were:

• day length: the days are quickly getting shorter in September.

• air temperature: it can get quite hot and humid in the summer, especially on the Lower Mississippi. On the other hand, it can be uncomfortably cool in April and November anywhere on the route.

• water temperature: during August the water temperature north of Saint Louis is in the mid to upper 70’s; the temperature drops during September from the 70’s to the 60’s, and in October from the 60’s to the 50’s, and in November to the 40’s and even into the 30’s. RiverGator.org recommends a wetsuit when the water temperature is below 60; south of Cairo this occurs starting sometime in November. We read of two parties in 2014 that capsized in the Lower River. Capsizing in 75? degree water is a bother; capsizing in 55? degree water can be very serious. And remember that you will be having at least your feet in the water on a daily basis as you land and launch your boat.

• mosquitoes: likely worse earlier in the season than later.

We chose to start in early August in order to: 1) enjoy relatively long days; 2) avoid the worst of the heat as we headed south; 3) travel when the water temperature was warm; and 4) minimize the worst of the insects. This worked well for us and we have no regrets other than missing the autumn colors.

In 2014, of the successful thru-paddlers we know of:

• 8 parties started in mid to late May

• 4 parties started in June

• 3 parties started in July

• 9 parties started in August

• 6 parties started in September.

In 2014 one party attempted to start in mid April, but snow and ice forced them to start at Grand Rapids instead of Lake Itasca.

Due to the record-breaking cold streak in November 2014, the parties that started in September faced many frosty nights and many days where the daytime high temperatures were in the 30’s or 40’s. On the other hand, the parties that started in May had cold weather early in their trips.

Portages

Between Lake Itasca and Bemidji, there are both beaver dams and downed trees blocking the river. We were able to push and/or drag our canoe over all of the beaver dams. Water levels will affect your experience at these dams. The number and location of fallen trees varies over the years. In some places other river users had come through with chainsaws and removed some of these obstacles. We were able to run or drag our canoe over some of the trees and had to portage our boat up the bank and around others. Getting trapped by these obstacles could be possible in high water conditions so caution is advised. There is also an obstacle about seven miles from the put-in called Vekin’s Dam, an ancient low wood and rock logging dam, that requires a short portage to get around.

Below Bemidji, there are 11 man-made dams that must be portaged. Behind these dams will be lakes of varying size; there is no current in these lakes so paddling requires more work than on the open river. Most recreational use along this portion of the river is found in these lakes.

The portage routes are marked on the Minnesota DNR maps. The portages ranged from simple to real pains. Problems included: unmarked take-outs and put-ins; take-outs and put-ins that were essentially piles of big rocks with no sandy place to land or launch your boat; unmaintained portage trails that were wet, muddy, steep, and/or had encroaching vegetation. Some portages require traversing pavement through towns and crossing busy streets.

The first portage is at the exit of Cass Lake at Knutson Dam. Depending on the water level, you may be able to paddle over the shallow spillway; we did this, but scout carefully ahead of time from shore.

In Grand Rapids, the Blandon Dam operates a free portage service. Prior to getting to Grand Rapids, you arrive at the Pokegamma Dam about 2.7 miles below Cohasset. At this dam there is a signboard offering portage service from either here or from Sylvan Lake in Grand Rapids. There is a phone number on the sign; call and make arrangements with the dam’s management. You can get a ride around both dams, but then you will miss paddling to Grand Rapids. The portage at Pokegamma Dam is just a couple of hundred yards and is easy. The portage in Grand Rapids is over 1.5 miles and crosses a very busy street. We used the service in Grand Rapids; a friendly driver showed up at the take-out with a canoe trailer and helped us load our gear and drove us to the put-in below the dam. He then gave Jim a ride to the grocery store.

In Sartell, you portage across the parking lot of the Riverside Depot café. You can stash your gear behind the very friendly café and stop in for a meal. We had the best burgers on our trip here.

Be very cautious at the Blanchard Dam portage; this was the most difficult portage, with some people reporting taking three hours to complete it. You will have to carry your gear almost 2000 feet and, in doing so, climb up and down several steep embankments with very loose footing.

Some people portage the short section of rapids below the town of Sauk Rapids. These are rated Class 1 to 3 depending on water levels. We were able to run them without incident on river right.

Portaging some locks on the Middle Mississippi is possible, but not required. See the section Locks.

Portaging on the Lower Mississippi is limited to voluntary crossing of wing dams or emergent sandbars while using back channels. There are no portages on the main channel.

Power Boats

Many recreational river users between Bemidji and St. Louis are weekend warriors with powerboats or jet skis. The powerboats are often equipped with huge engines and sometimes drunk captains. Anti-social and rude behavior on the river is unfortunately frequent among this group of boaters: generating huge wakes, unnecessarily close encounters, and occasionally deliberate harassment are not uncommon. Note that this only occurred on weekends, especially holiday weekends, when the river was crowded with recreationalists. We never had problems on weekdays, or with the local fisherman who would usually slow down when near us so that we didn't have trouble with their wakes.

We spoke with more than a few local river residents who commented about the weekend boaters in very negative terms. They often told us that they never use the river on weekends due to the morons and their behavior. Although we were told that there are special police river patrols to mitigate bad and dangerous behavior, we never saw evidence of it.

Tows

From Minneapolis on to the Gulf, tows are a fact of life on the river. A tow is an array of cargo barges lashed together with cables and pushed by a specialized ship called a towboat (aka tugboat or pushboat): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pusher_(boat)

Between Minneapolis and St. Louis, where they must transit locks, tow arrays get no larger than 3 barges wide by 5 barges long (3 x 5). On the lower river, we passed tows that were 6 x 7 arrays. Since a barge is commonly 35 feet wide by 195 feet long, a 6 x 7 tow is 210 feet wide and almost 1400 feet long, not including the towboat. A typical fully loaded barge displaces 1500 tons, thus a 6 x 7 tow displaces 63,000 tons, which is greater than the WW2 battleship Missouri. These things are big and you and your tiny boat share the river with them. Anybody paddling the river should read John McPhee’s Uncommon Carriers to get a better understanding of the tows and how they work.

Tows are intimidating but actually not too difficult to live with. First, they are slow; 11 mph is about the maximum speed traveling downriver and they are a lot slower going up. Second, at normal water levels, tows stay in the channel. Tow movements are generally extremely predictable as it takes a long time to make a turn; they don’t dart around on the river. If you carry a marine radio, you can listen in on the pilot’s conversations. When one tow needs to pass another, either in opposite directions or in the same direction, much discussion ensues about who passes whom where and how. Often a tow will slow down or stop to let a faster one pass, as there are limited places on the river where passing is even possible. If you have a radio, you can even inform the tows that you are in the area. Use channel 13 and know your position before you go on the air.

Sharing the river with tows requires you to be aware of a few things. Most importantly, don’t get in their way, and don’t paddle in conditions where you might capsize in the navigation channel. Capsizing near a tow is well described in this report. Tows cannot maneuver or stop quickly and if you are too close to them, the pilot probably cannot see you. If they run you over, they may not even be aware of it. Cross the river in places with long views both upstream and downstream to ensure that there are no tows approaching. If you behave appropriately, you will not get run over.

Tows create wakes as they pass. The first wake comes off the front corners of the leading barges and is usually not very big or turbulent. There will then be a hiatus before the wake from the screws of the towboat arrives. These wakes can be large and very turbulent, particularly from tows going upriver where they have to push against the current. Keep in mind that a large towboat has three screws and 11,000 horsepower turning them. Finally, the wakes and turbulence will reflect off of the riverbanks and create random chop, particularly where the banks are steep and have been armored with rocks by the Army Corps of Engineers.

We found two things that helped a lot in dealing with wakes. First, it is best to pass tows on the inside of a bend in the river. The inside of a bend is likely to be shallower, less steep, much less likely to be armored, and the current is slower. The tows will be close to the outside of a bend as that is where the channel will be. On the inside bend you will be further away, the screw wake will be directed away from you, not toward you, and there will be much less reflective turbulence. This strategy requires crossing and re-crossing the river as it snakes its way south, but we found it made life much easier when passing tows.

If you can't get away from a closely passing tow, you can find shelter by paddling into a shoreline eddy, the larger the better. The eddy line, the point in the river where upstream and downstream currents pass each other, will absorb almost all the wake turbulence from a passing tow. If you are in the eddy, you will experience very little to no turbulence. Fortunately, eddies are common features along the riverbank, so if you see a tow coming and you are on the outside bend, you will usually be able to find one prior to the arrival of tow’s wake. Sometimes, however, we were exposed directly to tow wakes at relatively close range and were always able to ride them out without issue. So, pay attention, stay out of their way, respect them, and you shouldn’t have any problems with tows.

The turbulence caused by a single distant tow was rarely substantial. However, because tows can only pass each other in certain sections of the river, they often wait for periods so they are in the right place relative to the other tows, and they may stack up. We would often go for a couple hours seeing no tows, and then have five or six tows pass in an hour. Our most congested area had nine tows in 90 minutes. When there are tows holding position while a string of oncoming tows passes, the combination of all their wakes bouncing off the riverbank can get fairly intense.

There are also smaller towboats operating around docks. These are used to construct tows and move individual barges from here to there. Their movements are less predictable than the large tows, but the pilots have reasonably good visibility of the river. On several occasions, the pilots obviously saw us coming and waited for us the clear the area before proceeding with their duties.

Locks

Between Minneapolis and St. Louis, the Army Corps of Engineers has constructed 29 sets of locks and dams. The most northerly lock, Upper St. Anthony Falls in Minneapolis, is scheduled to be decommissioned in the spring of 2015. Operations hours of the Lower St. Anthony Lock may be reduced as well. As of this writing, the portage options are unclear and are still be discussed by various interest groups. The Mississippi River Paddlers Facebook group should be a good source of current information. The Corps closes the Upper and Lower St. Anthony Falls and Lock 1 during period of high flows. This requires finding alternative means for getting around several miles of river. Currently there is no designated portage route from St. Anthony Falls to below Lock 1; however, there is a local portage service operated by the Paddle Taxi.

You must either transit a lock or portage around it. At many locks, portaging would be difficult or impossible as there is frequently no place near the lock to take out or put in and the lock complexes can be more than ½ mile long. By studying maps and satellite images, it might be possible to plan to portage (some, many, all?) locks by using side channels. If you try to plan this, remember that both maps and satellite images may not match the water level when you are at the lock, so what may look possible on paper may be difficult or impossible in reality. For example, a spillway may be a viable portage at low water, but be a dangerous place at high water. The vast majority of paddlers use the locks. There are three exceptions described at the end of this section.

The locks were constructed because the Army Corps of Engineers built dams to maintain enough water depth for shipping and still have to allow for boats to transit the dams. The neat thing about the locks is since they were constructed with public money, use of them is free, and available to any type of craft using the river. Kayaks and canoes have the same rights to passage as tows and private powerboats. There is a pecking order and commercial traffic has priority over recreational traffic, which sometimes can mean a long wait to use a lock. It can take a tow between one and two hours to transit a lock, so if one arrives just before you do, you are in for a long delay. On our trip we had mostly good fortune with the locks and only had to wait for more than half an hour on a few occasions, while we had many “drive-thru” transits with no wait at all.

To use a lock, you paddle up to the end of the “long wall”, which is a concrete structure extending many hundreds of feet out from the lock gates, and pull a marked cord announcing your desire to make a transit. With luck, the lock staff will be able to see you and come out and let you know what the situation is. A far better solution is to carry a marine radio (use channel 14, except for Lock Mel Price, Lock 26, that uses 12) and contact the lock when you are 10 to 15 minutes out. “Lock XX, this is downbound canoe. We are 15 minutes out from the long wall and request passage. What is the current status for a transit?” The lock-master will respond and let you know whether there is a wait or not, how long the wait might be, or if you are lucky will say: “Downbound canoe, this is Lock XX, we'll have it ready for you when you get here.”

After approaching the lock, you find a place to hang out near the end of the long wall where you can see the signal light. Depending on the winds, this may not be as simple as it sounds. When the lock is ready to receive you, the light will turn green. You paddle in through the open upstream gates and usually a lock staff member will direct you to a particular point they want you to be and drop you a line to hold onto. There may be other recreational craft in the lock with you, but you will not share it with tows. After everyone is stable, the upstream gates are closed, the water level is slowly lowered to match that of the downstream river, and the downstream gates are then opened. When the lockmaster is satisfied that all is well, he will sound a loud horn signaling that it is now safe to let go of the line and paddle out. Do so and get out of the way of the downstream lock entrance as quickly as possible.

Do not tie off on the line or you may be dumped out of your boat and it will be left dangling as the water drops. Although in some locks the water level only changes by a foot or so, in others the drop is as much as fifty feet. If a tow is exiting a lock as you arrive, do not approach the long wall until the tow is completely clear of it. The tow can generate massive waves in the narrow confines near the long wall that could easily swamp your boat.

We found the lock staffs, civilian employees of the Army Corps of Engineers, to generally be very friendly, interested in our journey and helpful. On three occasions staff members actually used their own vehicles to portage us around locks that had long delays due to the presence of tows. They helped us get our canoe out of the water, transported us to an appropriate put in, and helped us get back on the water. Nice people.

There are three locks where there are easy options to transiting the main lock. At Lock 14, there is, on river right, a back channel through a marina which leads to a small auxiliary lock. Since the auxiliary lock only transits small craft, you will not be delayed by tows. It is worth using this option. At Lock 15, there is a back channel on river left that goes around Rock Island. Once in the channel, you will pass smaller Sylvan Island and soon see a dam. There is an easy and short portage river left before you reach the dam: climb up a short set of rocky steps and follow a marked trail around the dam. After the portage, a short paddle brings you back to the main river downstream from Lock 15. Given how much river traffic there is in this area, we chose to take the portage route rather than risk a long delay.

Finally, at Lock 27, the last on the river, there is a better way downriver than transiting the lock. The difficulty at Lock 27 is that to approach it, you must first paddle an 8-mile long rock-lined man-made channel. There is no shelter here from tows, which will be very close to you due to the narrow width of the channel. If you stay in the river instead, there is single obstacle: the Chain of Rocks. This is a partially natural and partially man made rocky barrier that stretches across the entire river. At normal water levels we have been told it is runnable by those who know the route, but should NOT be attempted by those who don’t. There is, however, on river left, a very easy and very short portage around this barrier. We choose to go this way and as the river was running high when we were there, the Chain was submerged and we just paddled over it without incident. Even if you must portage, we believe that you are much better off doing so than transiting Lock 27.

We generally enjoyed using the locks. It added variety to the trip, frequently being the only boat in these huge structures was really cool, the staffs were great, and it felt like we were really taking part in the way the river works.

Buoys

South of Minneapolis, the main channel is marked with buoys. Looking downstream, the river right side of the channel is marked with green flat-topped buoys called “cans” and the river left side of the channel is marked with red conical topped buoys called “nuns”. These can be very useful because the tows are going to stay in the channel and the buoys identify it.

However, when the river floods, as it did during our trip, it uproots many of the buoys and drops them where it pleases. Usually this is on the riverbanks, where we saw large numbers of stranded nuns and cans. However, sometimes the river just shuffles the buoys around so they now mark what is definitely not the channel. The tows know where the channel is anyway, but the paddler probably doesn’t. We have no idea how long it takes the Coast Guard to replace and realign errant buoys after a flood. Be cautious about assuming that all of the buoys are in the right places.

In high water, buoys can also “rabbit”. The current forces them underwater and they disappear for varying periods of time, only to unexpectedly pop back up to the surface. Since these things weight about 800 pounds, getting hit by a rabbiting buoy is not a good idea. Pay attention to what is going on around you.

Atchafalaya Exit

The Atchafalaya River is an alternate exit to the Gulf of Mexico. The Mississippi enters the Gulf in a classic delta: the big river splits into multiple distributaries as it flows out into the sedimentary delta it has built for itself upon reaching the Gulf. These distributaries originate as far north as the Baton Rouge area. Potentially one of the largest of these distributaries could be the Atchafalaya River. The Atchafalaya hydraulically "wants" to be the main exit for the Mississippi into the Gulf; it likely would be now if humans, starting in the 19th century, hadn't prevented nature from taking its course.

The problem with letting the river do what physics says it should is all the human infrastructure and commerce dependent on the Mississippi flowing to the Gulf as a navigable river. Let the Atchafalaya capture the Mississippi and Baton Rouge and New Orleans would be commercially landlocked. Can't let that happen, so the Army Corps of Engineers has spent vast amounts of public dollars keeping the Atchafalaya from becoming the main course of the Mississippi. All that prevents river capture from happening are a number of concrete control structures; and a lock with a 15-foot drop from the Mississippi to the Atchafalaya. It seems inevitable that in the long (or not so long) run, the Atchafalaya will get its way and become the exit for the Mississippi whether we like it or not. For a more detailed and much more literate explanation of all of this, read John McPhee's superb The Control of Nature.

This geography is a part of the rational for our decision to finish our paddle to the Gulf down the Atchafalaya, the "real" exit distributary. We also chose this route because the heavy industrial areas from Baton Rouge south were not enticing to us; dealing with tows is challenging but confronting the ocean-going tankers that travel up river as far as Baton Rouge was not something we wanted to do; New Orleans isn't very accessible to paddlers; we wanted to get to the actual open waters of the Gulf; and we wanted to end up in a place where we might easily find a ride back to a town. We found the wilder lower reaches of the Atchafalaya were a great place to paddle. Several other paddlers with experience on the Lower River had recommended the Atchafalaya as the exit of choice. To transit the Atchafalaya, leave the Mississippi main stem at river mile 303.8 and enter a channel (identified only by the mileage marker) that shortly leads to the Old River Lock.

Here is a CalTopo map of the Atchafalaya route we took to the Gulf. You can export the data as a gpx or kml file. There are other options through the Atchafalaya, but we published our route as a reminder to paddlers planning to go to New Orleans that there is a quiet and beautiful alternative which is a geologically honest way to finish the Mississippi River. Also mapped is a Lafourche Bayou route recommended by a New Orleans paddler; we aren’t familiar with it, but include it as others might be interested.

Weather

We were extremely fortunate with the weather on our trip and experienced weather related delays only a few times. You should not count on this and should not be surprised if bad weather prevents further downstream progress for periods of time. At the extreme ends of the paddling season, April or November, you might encounter ice in the water. Otherwise, the biggest weather problem is mostly related to wind. Wind speed and direction can make or break a paddling day.

We experienced head winds far more often than tail winds. We don’t know if this is typical and/or related to the time of year we were on the river. Most of the time these winds were annoying and frustrating, but did not keep us off of the water. For any particular wind speed, the geography of the river can change what it does to you. If you are paddling into a long stretch of unobstructed water, waves will have a chance to build and can be much larger than those created by the same wind blowing up a short reach. So sometimes a 10 mph wind isn’t an issue and at a different location might keep you on shore.

Sometimes the best solution for traveling on a windy day is to paddle immediately next the bank of the river. If you are lucky, the bank and its trees will provide shelter from the worst of the wind. Even if not, the waves will usually be much smaller and should you swamp or capsize, you won’t be in the middle of the river.

The second significant weather related problem is lightning. If a thunderstorm is imminent, get off of the water as fast as possible and seek shelter. If there are only woods on shore, pull your boat out of the water, tie it up and get deep into the trees. Remember that thunderstorms are often accompanied by localized high winds so be sure to secure your gear well or the river might take it away.

The final weather issue that can keep you onshore is dense fog that when present can make it impossible to see tows. We did not experience fog of this intensity, but we read trip reports that described fog so thick paddlers could not see 100 feet in any direction. Tows can be surprisingly quiet, so in dense fog, it is better to stay out of the channel.

Other weather issues that can arise include rain of varying intensities, heat, high humidity, and cold. In other words, just like the weather anywhere else.

Water Levels

The amount of water flowing in the river rises and falls depending on snow-melt and rainfall anywhere in its enormous basin. It goes up and down depending on manipulation of locks and dams on the Mississippi and its many tributaries. It doesn’t have to rain where you are for the river to rise. Conversely, it can be raining where you are and the water level may be dropping.

What might this mean to the river traveler? While we were on the river, it exceeded flood stage for about a week from Keithsburg to Cairo. The river rose twenty feet over the course of two days; it was not an overnight catastrophic change so it was easy not to notice that the water was rising, at least until we saw abundant floating logs and realized that the riverbanks were now underwater. We understand that high water levels on the Headwaters can make it difficult or impossible to paddle safety.

The high water brought several noticeable changes. First, riverside floodplain campsites started to disappear and it became more difficult to find a place to set up a tent. We also had to camp high enough that any further rise wouldn’t flood us out. It helped to have data from various river level websites so we could plan ahead. The river also became faster as more water was traveling downstream. It was never fast enough to make paddling a problem, but it was noticeable. Finally, massive amounts of wooden debris appeared as the river re-floated all the material that had settled out on its banks after earlier high-water episodes. This debris ranged in size from small sticks to entire trees. There was so much material coming down from the Missouri River that the Coast Guard closed the Mississippi for forty miles around St. Louis to all river traffic, including their boats. . We were putting in at the St. Louis Arch early in the morning when a Coast Guard vehicle drove up and the unit commander wouldn't let us back on the river. Friends gave us a ride twenty miles south to a put-in just out of the closure zone so we could start paddling again. We did find that since the debris was traveling as fast at the current, once you are paddling downstream, playing dodge-a-log wasn’t difficult. However, the game is tedious, a little stressful and slows you down..

For about two weeks after the water rose, the river level fell about a foot per day, eventually dropping low enough that the abundant Army Corps wing dams started to emerge. Where a few days previously we had floated over these things, we now had to paddle around them. The same thing happened with sandbars. The sandbars, though, provide terrific campsites. Falling water also prevented us from taking some of the back channels that allow you to get away from the tows. These channels often have wing dams across them and at low water the rocks stretch from shore to shore; the only way past them is to portage.

Resupply

Water. We were always able to obtain drinking water from known clean sources and never drank water from the river. The river itself carries a lot of sediment for much of its length, so if you plan on filtering, you will have to deal with potential clogging. The Lower Mississippi also has a lot of runoff laced with agricultural and industrial chemical residues.

We found water sources easily in towns and local campgrounds for most of the trip. We carried fifteen liters capacity for the two of us, and this was adequate for our needs until we reached Helena. South of Helena, where water sources are more widely spaced, we also carried a couple of gallon containers of grocery store drinking water.

Food. Until St. Louis, shopping for food was not a problem. Except for the stretch between Itasca and Bemidji, and between Grand Rapids and Aitkin, there are towns with at least small grocery stores just about every day. In these towns, the grocery stores were usually within reasonable walking distance, as were many accessible bars, cafes and restaurants.

South of St. Louis, buying groceries becomes a bit more difficult as the river towns are further apart. The stores are frequently located on the outskirts of towns, several miles from the river. We were fortunate in that we were always able to find rides from helpful people we met along the way. Many of the river towns still have downtown cafes and restaurants close to the river.

Prior to departure, we mapped the location of as many riverside grocery stores as possible using Google Maps. Having this data available during the trip made daily planning a lot easier and reduced trip stress.

Riverboat casinos are legal in five Mississippi River states: Illinois, Iowa, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Missouri, and many towns south of Saint Louis have at least one. Most have AYCE buffets at very reasonable prices and are a good source of cheap calories.

Camping

Camping along the river is one of the great pleasures of the journey and is also necessary because there are long stretches with no commercial accommodations. We never had any significant problems finding at least adequate campsites, and frequently had excellent ones.

In Minnesota, the DNR has established a string of canoe camps along the river, many of them accessible only by boat. These vary in quality from tiny plots with barely room for a tent to sites with a shelter and pit toilet. There are also some commercial and municipal sites further down the river and these are usually marked on the river maps. Mostly, though, the paddler will need to improvise and find suitable rough campsites. Long stretches of the Mississippi are actually in public ownership so riverside camping is quite legal. Along the lower river at normal water levels, a multitude of sandbars provide very fine places to camp. When we were in view of a building, we asked permission (granted everywhere but in Bemidji), otherwise we simply set up camp. Nobody ever questioned our use of any place we camped, and we were often welcomed with open arms and good company.

The usual camping rules apply: leave zero trash; don’t make new fire rings; be extremely careful with fires if you build them; don’t cut vegetation; don’t make a lot of noise; leave the place cleaner than you found it. The river may rise while you are sleeping, so set up high enough where you won’t be awakened by water sloshing into your tent. Make sure that your boat is well above any possible rising water, including waves created by passing nighttime tows and wind, or tie it securely to something that can’t possibly wash away, or preferably, both. There have been paddlers whose boats washed away during the night and this can really mess up a trip.

Safety on the River

In addition to the standard water-safety guidelines (always wear a PFD, don’t drink and paddle, etc.), there are five safety factors that one ought to consider when paddling the Mississippi:

• There are three large lakes in the Headwaters section: Bemidji, Cass, and Winnibigoshish. Although the lakes may appear to be calm, experienced paddlers recommend NOT taking straight-line routes across these. Very strong and dangerous winds can arise suddenly and produce large waves that have capsized and drowned other paddlers. Prudence strongly suggests following the longer route around the shorelines of these lakes.

• Capsizing into cold water is a safety consideration. Since capsizing is not a planned activity, those paddling in cold water conditions might seriously consider wearing a wet or dry suit.

• Flood stage flow can be very hazardous, as described by RiverGator.org. One has the option of staying off the river when it’s flooding.

• Wind can create waves that may capsize a boat. One has the option of staying off the water in these conditions. As RiverGator says, this river should be likened to paddling on the Great Lakes: when the wind is calm it’s easy, but when it’s blowing it is a different beast. This video was taken on the Missouri River, but there are big expanses of water on the Mississippi River which can have similar conditions.

• Boat traffic can kill you if you don’t take it seriously.

Other than those five factors, paddling the river is straightforward and there was nothing else that caused us significant concern. RiverGator also has a useful section about river safety.

Security off the River

One issue that all river travelers must face is security of their person and their goods. At a personal level, we never felt threatened in any way by anyone we met. Maybe we were lucky or maybe that is just the way it is along the river. There might be unsafe locations along the river, particularly in settled areas; as always, be aware of your surroundings and if things don’t feel right, leave.

Security for your boat and equipment is another matter. Here we experienced a problem for which we never found a completely satisfactory solution. We had read stories before we left of river travelers who have had gear or worse yet, their boats, stolen during their trip. In three towns, Saint Cloud, New Madrid, Caruthersville, we heard from locals that a river traveler’s canoe or kayak had been stolen in the area. In 2014 we know of at least three paddlers who had some gear stolen. We elected to always leave one of us with our gear unless we were absolutely sure we had a safe place for the boat such as a staffed marina, campground, somebody’s yard, or at a ramp where locals were present and willing to watch the boat while we were away. Solo paddlers often hide and lock boats in the brush, away from public boat ramps and other places people are likely to be.

Our approach limited what we could do on shore. We did not take off together to visit stores, restaurants, parks, museums and so forth unless the boat was, in our belief, truly secure. In many places this meant only one of could leave the boat. Paranoid yes, but the risk of losing the boat and thus the trip outweighed the obvious disadvantages of our solution. For us, this was probably to most significant downside of the trip and we wish we could offer a better solution.

Other Paddlers

We met only four other individuals or couples on long distance paddling trips of one kind or another. We heard about other paddlers from people on shore and found websites for a couple of them. We passed at least one group but never saw them; the river is big and people stop at different times and places. Reading other traveler’s blogs, we have learned that people do run into each other on occasion and sometimes elect to paddle together for periods of time.

People Along the River

We found one of the best parts of the trip was meeting people along the river. Almost everyone we ran into was enthusiastic, friendly and interested in what we were doing. Many immediately offered us help: food, showers, places to stay, transportation to stores and so forth. Their spontaneous generosity was both unexpected and greatly appreciated. Long-distance hikers call these people “Trail Angels”; we called them “River Angles”. In reading other paddler’s trip reports and blogs, we learned our experiences were not unique. Trip reports from many other paddlers report the same thing happened to them time after time during their journeys. Although most of our assistance was serendipitous, we learned late in our trip that by posting on either the Mississippi River Paddlers or Lower Mississippi River Paddlers Facebook groups, you may also get offers of assistance from people who live along the river.

As an example, we met a woman on our first day as we portaged from Itasca across the little rock stepping-stones into the shallow start of the river. She offered to give us a place to stay when we reached Brainerd, which would be over a week in the future. She met us at her daughter’s house on the river where we stored the canoe and drove us all over the place for supplies and a meal and then took us to her house for showers and a bed. The next morning, we borrowed a drill from her son-in-law to make a small modification to our boat and mentioned we were going to add some pads to the rear gunwales. We would buy the pads in a town somewhere downstream. Lo and behold, after we had paddled off and portaged the Brainerd dam, there was our friend waiting downstream beside the river with the parts we needed.

One form of assistance that was incredibly helpful was offers of rides to grocery stores. As discussed in the Resupply section, in many river towns the grocery stores are located some distance from take-outs. Getting rides to stores meant not spending an hour or two walking to and from the store and also meant we could buy a lot more food since we didn’t have to hand carry it from the store back to the water. We greatly appreciated those rides.

Residents let us sleep in their yards or in their guest rooms. Campground hosts let us stay free in their campgrounds and use the picnic shelters to set up out of the rain. Cafés refused payment for our meal. People invited us to picnics. A bartender drove us to a distant laundromat and the laundromat owner drove us back to the river. Many dozens of people provided us with great conversation, good cheer, and encouraging words. Day after day we encountered this outpouring of generosity. Our experience was humbling and gave us a renewed belief in the innate goodness of so many people.

Birds, Bugs and Other Critters

We enjoy watching birds and had hoped to see a lot of species during our trip. However, we found birding from a moving canoe was difficult. We were usually too far from shore to find small birds and if we did, couldn’t identify them before we were carried downstream by the current. Mosquitoes often made birding near campsites difficult. We did see a lot of Bald Eagles, Belted Kingfishers, Canada Geese, Spotted Sandpipers, White Pelicans, migrating swallows, egrets and herons. We frequently heard woodpeckers and occasionally saw Pileated Woodpeckers flying across the river. Our most exceptional sighting was of a pure albino Barn Swallow foraging over the water.

We saw many deer in the Headwaters section. People have seen Black Bear along the river, but we didn’t. We did see a few River Otters cavorting in the Headwaters section of the river. Along the lower Atchafalaya, we saw dozens of American Alligators, both on the banks and in the water. They never bothered us.

We experienced mosquitoes on shore at some point on every single day of the trip. Generally they were less of a problem during the day, but after sunset they sometimes became intolerable and drove us into our tent. We never had problems while on the water although other paddlers have reported being attacked by biting flies while paddling. Mosquitoes, wood ticks, and biting flies are reported to be very problematic May through July, especially in the Headwaters section, and by paddling in August and September we believe we avoided the worst of it. At earlier times of the year many paddlers carry and use headnets to reduce insect problems. (Amy Lauterbach)

http://www.backpackinglight.com/cgi-bin/backpackinglight/forums/thread_display.html?forum_thread_id=97345

Rivergator Appendix XXIII:

Sources for St. Louis to Caruthersville

St. Louis to Caruthersville Stretch:

Mississippi River Water Trail Association

http://www.greatriverwatertrail.org/

Water Resources Center, Missouri Department of Natural Resources,

Missouri River Trail, www.missouririverwatertrail.org.

BackpackingLight.com Forum, November, 2014, by Amy Lauterbach

http://www.backpackinglight.com/cgi-bin/backpackinglight/forums/thread_display.html?forum_thread_id=97345

Illinois Dept of Natural Resources

www.dnr.state.il.us

Missouri State Parks

www.mostateparks.com

Dozier’s Waterway Guide

http://www.waterwayguide.com/

Marina Life

http://www.marinalife.com

Big River Canoe Trip

by Leon Pantenburg

http://bigrivercanoetrip.blogspot.com/

Voyages of Kristin Says

http://kristinsays2.blogspot.com/2013/09/day-10-alton-to-hoppies-marinia-family.html

The Riverlorian

http://www.riverlorian.com/

MDOC Online

Missouri Dept of Conservation

http://mdc4.mdc.mo.gov

Great River Road

http://www.greatriverroad.com/stegen/randattract/chartres.htm

The City of St. Louis Water Division

http://www.stlwater.com

St. Louis Community College

www.stlcc.edu

Holyman Adventure Blog

www.oldtowncanoe.com/community/authors/holy_man_adventures

Eve Beglarian River Project Blog

www.evbvd.com/riverblog

Twain Quotes

http://www.twainquotes.com

City of Chester Illinois www.chesterill.com

John Weeks website www.johnweeks.com

Rivergator Appendix XXIV:

Literary Analysis

by John Ruskey

The Rivergator: Literary Analysis

The many available publications regarding the Lower Mississippi eddy into two categories, 1) personal travelogues and 2) scientific/historic/commercial works, neither of which satisfy the navigation & guiding needs of the modern American adventurer. Hence the need for the writing of the Rivergator.

The Naming of the Rivergator

The title Rivergator is derived from the national best-sellerThe Navigator, first published in 1801 by Zadok Cramer, with 12 subsequent printings. The Navigator described the Mississippi Valley for pioneer settlers streaming out of the Eastern United States in the first great wave of continental migrations that eventually led to the settling of the Wild West. Thomas Jefferson and other leaders were fearful that the French or the English would get there first. With the Lewis & Clark explorations and the introduction of the steamboat to the Mississippi River in 1812, Americans followed the big rivers up and down through the heart of the country, and The Navigator was their guide. In this spirit I have adopted the name Rivergator with the hope that Americans will rediscover their “wilderness within,” the paddler’s paradise created by the Lower Mississippi River. And that the Rivergator will be adopted by successive generations of canoeists and kayakers, and re-written as the river changes. Zadok Cramer also invented the numbering system for Lower Mississippi River Islands, a system still in use today.

Guidebooks

Ernest Herndon’s Canoeing Louisiana and Canoeing Mississippi are the best sources for paddlers using tributaries rivers like the Yazoo, Big Black, Red, Ouachita and Atchafalaya Rivers. In fact he raised the bar so high with these guidebooks that no one will probably ever cross it. However the Mississippi is only lightly touched upon. Because of the extreme nature of the big river, its unique challenges and its hazardous obstacles, Ernest purposely focused on all rivers but the Mississippi, and avoided describing the big river in any detailed fashion. Canoeing Louisiana and Canoeing Mississippi provide a simple outline to the Lower Mississippi River, but were not written as comprehensive guidebooks for paddler’s use on the big river.

Online Guidebooks and Blogs

Besides the Rivergator, there are no internet guides for paddling the Lower Mississippi, but many adventurers have kept personal blogs which are sometimes helpful in gleaning information. Several of these blogs were useful in writing the Rivergator, such as those kept by Linnea Godderstad and Dave Blomquist in 2013, and Lucas and Nathalie (and their intrepid puppy-dog Tischer) from the “Paddle in Hand” Expedition.

After paddling the entire length of the Mississippi in 2014 Amy Lauterbach wrote a very useful synopsis in the BackpackingLight.com Forum describing how to paddle the Mississippi with a lot of original research about successful expeditions, what they are paddling, when they go, their routes, their gear, and many other topics. This was done in a well-written thoughtful manner, and besides the Rivergator might be the best information currently available. Amy’s report has been included in the Rivergator Appendix. http://www.backpackinglight.com/cgi-bin/backpackinglight/forums/thread_display.html?forum_thread_id=97345

Rivergator partner The Mississippi River Water Trail Association has started creating trails the Upper Mississippi River, from Louisiana down to Alton, which can be seen online at http://www.greatriverwatertrail.org. (Added to Rivergator Appendix).

Online guides to tributary rivers have proven valuable, such as the Missouri River Trail, www.missouririverwatertrail.org ( Water Resources Center, Missouri Department of Natural Resources). (Added to Rivergator Appendix).

Personal Travelogues:

While readable and sometimes blandly helpful for those who might follow their paddle strokes, the explorations of contemporary writers Eddy Harris (1988, Mississippi Solo: A River Quest), Jonathan Raban (1981, Old Glory: An American Voyage), B.C. Hall & C.T. Wood (1993, Big Muddy: Down the Mississippi through America’s Heartland), Edward Wright (1995, The Great River Caper), Ben Lucien Burman (1973, Look Down the Winding River)and Weldon Parker (1985, Magical Mississippi) are maddeningly empty of any useful information about the islands, the harbors, the landings – furthermore, they are completely devoid of instructions regarding reading the river. This is frustrating because taken together these authors amass a great potential for sharing river knowledge and experiences. Even power-boaters Jonathan Raban and Weldon Parker must have paid close attention to navigating the channels and exploring the islands (which offer the best campsites). And yet, instead of making useful observations and reporting on them they seem satisfied on entertaining the reader with yet another series of personal experiences and vignettes from the people and places along the river. Pleasurable –yes, but not in the least helpful the modern paddler on the Lower Mississippi.

The photo books Around the Bend: a Mississippi River Adventure by C.C. Lockwood (1998), and Mississippi River: A Photographic Journey (1987, Jerry Stebbins & Barbara Cameron ) are written in the same travelogue format, fun to read and full of beautiful photography, but missing any useful tips for reading the river or navigation details that are of extreme importance to paddlers.

Mark Twain:

On the other hand, much useful information can still be gleaned from the 1883 publication Life on the Mississippi, and to a lesser extent, 1885 The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Mark Twain, the great dean of Mississippi literature, raised the bar so high, no other writer since has been able to hurdle it. While the context of Huckleberry Finn is the model for many a young man’s river dreams (including mine! It brought me originally to the Mississippi Valley from the Rocky Mountains via Choate Rosemary Hall High School, Connecticut in 1983), some of which have been published (Down the Mississippi by Clyde Robert Bulla, 1954, is an example) no writer has been able to follow the quality of his lead in the wonderful and unparalleled Life on the Mississippi.

The first twenty chapters of Life on the Mississippi relate the adventures of the young Samuel Clemmons in his education as a cub pilot, in which he describes with brilliant detail the changing nature of the river’s face and the significance all of its various motions, the swirls, the boils, the rippling waves, and so on and forth (with his usual charming mixture of stories and anecdotes, and river scenery). At once Twain’s narration is told through the eyes of a painter, and engineer, and a poet. Life on the Mississippi remains to this day the best single introduction to “reading the river,” and it was published over a century ago! It is a prerequisite for any potential guides with my Quapaw Canoe Company. The only thing better than better than Life on the Mississippi is river experience.

With this thought in mind, the Rivergator will impart over twenty years of “reading the river,” and “reading the islands,” for modern day paddlers, eco-travelers and armchair adventurers.

Scientific/Historic/Graphic Works:

The Rivergator will illustrate the changeable nature of the islands and river bends in maps and text, employing a wide variety of sources. The Pantheon of literature relating to the Lower Mississippi River is of course quite broad and extensive, almost as varied and deep as the river itself. I will leave off for now proving the ways in which The Rivergator fills a literary vacuum, and instead describe a selection of the titles I have read over the years in preparation for The Rivergator, many of which will be referenced, and all will be described in full bibliographic detail below.

Marion Bragg’s 1977 Historic Names and Places on the Lower Mississippi is my traveling bible for mile-by-mile understanding of the river’s unusual and sometimes contradictory nomenclature (one of the few books I carry during my paddling expeditions).

For map-making and graphic understanding of the morphology of the Mississippi River and its changing water/landscapes, the following were extremely helpful: Karl Bodmer’s America (paintings from the 1832-34 Prince Maxmillian expedition), America Mississippi (early 1800s, Charles Alexandre Lesueur), and Roger T. Saucier’s Geomorphology and Quaternary Geologic History of the Lower Mississippi River, 1994).

My maps are based on a combination of five sources: (1) The 1983 – 2015 Expeditions conducted by myself, Sean Rowe, Michael F. Clark, Joe Royer, Adam Elliott, John Gary, Paul and Michael Orr, and others; (2) the 1998 US Army Corps Flood Control & Navigation Maps of the Mississippi River, (3) the US Army Corps Hydrographic Surveys of 1988-1989 and 1991-1992; (4) the 7 ½ minute series and 15 minute series of the United States Geologic Survey for the regions being described and mapped, and lastly (5) satellite images available through Google Earth.

John Barry’s 1997 book Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and how it Changed America, depicts the river using the latest hydrologic & historic findings in its first six chapters, taken together in a chapter titled “The Engineers.” An earlier 1927 Flood narrative also useful and full of eye-opening documentary photographs & documents, is Pete Daniel’s Deep’n As it Come (1977). John McPhee’s essay on drainage in The Control of Nature (1989) is a stirring & eloquent narration of the controversial “Old River Control Structure” which was built in between the Atchaflaya River and the Lower Mississippi in an attempt to save New Orleans from the next 500 year flood. This Land, This Delta: An Environmental History of the Yazoo-Mississippi Floodplain (2005, by Mikko Saikku) has been extremely lucid and matter-of-fact in describing the forests and floodplain of the Mississippi Delta and how nature and the works of mankind have changed them, and continue to alter them.

For river explorations, I read and have referenced The Narratives of DeSoto Vol I & II (1904), La Salle, the Mississippi, and the Gulf: Three Primary Documents (1987), The Voyages of Marquette in the Jesuit Relations (1966: Readex Microprint), and The Travels of William Bartram (1791).

Some beautiful and telling river panoramas are expressed in John James Audubon’s 1834 Dileneation of American Scenery and Character and Agnes Anderson’s 1994 Approaching the Magic Hour (in which one chapter narrates a Mississippi River canoe journey made with her husband painter/potter Walter Anderson in 1924). Two helpful regional autobiographies are Hodding Carter’s Where Main Street Meets the Levee (1952), and Willam Alexander Percy’s Lanterns on the Levee (1950).

Even though he was on board a towboat in 1953, the observations of Photographer Charles Dee Sharp confirmed our experiences a paddlers about the presence of the Lower Miss: “Below St. Louis the geography changes; below Cairo it changes utterly. It’s a transcendent, timeless realm. There is an elemental awe about it. Everything human disappears in the riverscape. Emotions are affected, discomfited, made ambiguous. The horizon is empty, limitless. You are an irrelevant nothing in a watery wilderness. Through crazed boils and whirlpools [you] move upon the brown mass of water”

Applicable in only the most general sense to an overall contemporary understanding of the Mississippi River Basin is Mississippi Currents (1996, Andrew H. Malcolm & Roger Straus III) and The Mississippi: The Making of a Nation (2002 Stephen E. Ambrose & Douglas G. Brinkley).

Rivergator Appendix XXV:

Glossary

(under construction -- will finish later in 2015)

Currents. In a river, it is the flow of water usually guided by gravity. Current can also be generated by volume alone, as is the case with the Lower Mississippi River, which descends a mere 315 vertical feet in the 954 miles of its journey to the ocean. A rising river or tide can cause reverse currents into its tributaries.

Cross-currents. Two or more currents intersecting along a line, sometimes called the “sheer line,” often associated with boils, eddies and whirlpools.

It is a current of water flowing in the opposite direction of the main current, usually in a circular motion. Easy to spot with the debris and foam it traps. They help in paddling upstream.

Whirlpool. A whirlpool is a swirling body of water produced by the meeting of opposing currents. (wiki)

An upward thrust of water to the surface, usually caused by an obstruction in front of the river current. Example rock dike.

Hydraulics. is a topic in applied science and engineering dealing with the mechanical properties of liquids. At a very basic level, hydraulics is the liquid version of pneumatics. Fluid mechanics provides the theoretical foundation for hydraulics, which focuses on the engineering uses of fluid properties. In fluid power, hydraulics is used for the generation, control, and transmission of power by the use of pressurized liquids. Hydraulic topics range through some part of science and most of engineering modules, and cover concepts such as pipe flow, dam design, fluidics and fluid control circuitry, pumps, turbines, hydropower, computational fluid dynamics, flow measurement, river channel behavior and erosion. Free surface hydraulics is the branch of hydraulics dealing with free surface flow, such as occurring in rivers, canals, lakes, estuaries and seas. Its sub-field open channel flow studies the flow in open channels. (wiki)

Keepers. Found at Chain of Rocks (ex. rock dams, low head dams). If you go over it and capsize, you would be recirculated in the rotating turbulence at the base of the waterfall, and even if rescuers were on hand, a rescue would be impossible.

sweepers

strainers

VHF Marine Radio. Towboat pilots use VHF marine radios for communication between vessels, and also with harbor tows, lockmasters, the US Coast Guard, and recreational craft. Commercial traffic uses VHF cannel 13 while recreational VHF channel 9. Channel 16 is reserved for distress and emergency “mayday” calls only.

A tree trunk or heavy limb, embedded in the river bottom and presenting a serious hazard to steamboats.

Flood Stage: The level at which a body of water begins to flow over its banks and onto dry land, usually expressed in feet above sea level.

Levee: Mounds of earth and/or fill, such as sand or gravel, piled along a body of water to prevent it from overflowing onto dry land.

Buoys:

Red “Nun” Buoys = LBD navigation channel

Green “Can” Buoys = RBD navigation channel

Dikes are usually small and low, and placed to protect a specific location; levees are high and usually continuous along a stretch of shore or riverbank. Used to protect against floods, as well as "reclaim" land normally covered by water.

Crest: The highest level of water reached by a flooding body of water, after which the water level begins to drop. Most rivers in flood experience multiple crests as additional snowmelt, rain, or obstructions (such as ice, levees or dams) affect their volume and flow.

Fleeted Barges: Tow companies will anchor barges mid stream for storage as the put together and break apart the massive tows for transportation. Their presence can confuse any paddler. It is sometimes difficult to determine if they are moving or not, especially in high water.

Work Boats: Works boats service the towboats with crew and supplies, and perform repair functions. They are small but the move fast and make big waves. Their wakes typically make steep crashing waves that might upset a small canoe or kayak. Watch for their unpredictable and erratic motions in and around other tows and barges.

Bridge Piers: There are dozens of bridges that paddlers will have to navigate under along the Middle/Lower Mississippi River. Each one is supported by piers and pylons which are anchored into the bedrock below the river.

pylons

Wharfing: At least half of the St. Louis Harbor is lined by wharves (and docks) of various sorts, shapes and sizes. For paddlers this means that you have no place to easily pull over in case of wind, waves, or the need to relieve yourself. At low water you might be able to sneak into any number of places between wharves and docks, or in between fleeted barges and docked tows.

Chevrons: The Chevron is a new method of river engineering added to places where navigable access is needed on both sides of the channel. They are basically a rock dike made in the shape of a classic chevron. Chevrns are placed in the in the middle of the river, not connected to either side. Best route: paddle around chevrons (preferably on the inside RBD if there is no traffic) not through them or over them. Waves from upstream tows will rise taller and crash over louder in the turbulent chevron area. In high water their influence is diminished.

As a verb, for a powered vessel to move an unpowered one, like a barge. Tow may also be a noun, referring to the craft being moved. In the 19th century on the Mississippi River, barges were either towed behind the steamboat on a long line, or lashed firmly alongside. Over time, it was learned that the towing vessel has much better control over its barges if they’re all lashed firmly together and pushed from behind — but they’re still called towboats.

Towboats:

Upstreamers = towboats going up the river

Downstreamers = towboats going down the river

single-screw towboat

2-screw towboat

3-screw towboat

Steamboat Terms:

Sternwheeler

Sidewheeler

A narrow board or platform allowing passengers and cargo to move from one boat to another, or from the boat to the shore. A larger gangplank, suspended from above and maneuvered at the bow of the boat, was known as a stage.
A space set aside for passengers or officers to sleep or change clothes. Passenger cabins were extremely small, as meals and most other activities on board took place in the public areas of the boat, inducing the saloon and on deck. Most passenger cabins were located on the boiler deck, and opened onto both the outside deck and the interior saloon. Charlotte M. Houstoun, recounting her time on Buffalo Bayou on the steamer Dayton in the 1840s, described the bunk in her cabin as a “narrow shelf.”

Pilot House The small, glassed-in structure atop the boat from which the captain or pilot steered the vessel. The pilot transmitted engine orders to the engineers on duty on the main deck below by a series bell rings or by a speaking tube.

Texas Deck

Hurricane deck. The deck above the boiler deck, usually the uppermost full deck on the boat. On smaller boats the pilothouse might be situated on the hurricane deck, or there might be a small set of cabins (usually for the boat’s officers) placed there.

Boiler Deck. The deck above the boilers and the main deck, where most passenger accommodations were located — cabins, saloons, etc.

Main deck. The lowest full deck of a Western Rivers steamboat, the one closest to the water. The main deck was where the boilers, engines and most machinery were located, along with stacks of cordwood for fuel, livestock, cargo, and so on.

Quarter Less Twain - ten and one-half feet

Mark Twain - twelve feet (two fathoms)

Quarter Twain - thirteen and one-half feet

Half Twain - fifteen feet

Quarter Less Three - sixteen and one-half feet

Mark Three - eighteen feet (three fathoms)

Quarter Three - nineteen and one-half feet

Half Three - twenty-one feet

Quarter Less Four - -twenty-two and one-half feet

Mark Four (or Deep Four) - twenty-four feet (four fathoms)

No Bottom - over twenty-four feet

Other:

Lilly Dipper. A person that isn’t paddling but makes the motion as if they were paddling.

For the Rivergator: Lower Mississippi River Water Trail

The www.rivergator.org is a free public use website

presented by the Lower Mississippi River Foundation.

Re-printing of text and photos by permission only with proper credits.

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Table of Contents

Rivergator Appendix I

The Lower Missouri River Water Trail

Paddling the Missouri River

Safety on the Lower Missouri

Katy Trail State Park

Getting Started

River Levels

Sand Bars

Trip Planning and Distances

Weather Factors

Gear Selection

Navigation

Navigating the River Safely

General Safety Guidelines

Jumping Asian Carp

Chain of Rocks Hazard

Rivergator Appendix II

Upper Mississippi River Water Trails

Illinois River Navigation Charts

Upper Mississippi River Navigation Charts

Pool 24 Maps

Pike's Passage (Pool 24):

Pinnacle Pass (Pool 25):

Suggested Trips for Pool 25

Bluffs Trail (Pool 26/27)

Water Trail Maps

River Charts

Pool 26 Driving Maps

Rivergator Appendix III

Mike Clark: Chain of Rocks

Rivergator Appendix IV

Mike Clark: Alton to Arch

Rivergator Appendix V

Over the Chain of Rocks with the Lewis & Clark

Bicentennial Re-enactment of 2006

Rivergator Appendix VI

Mark River Rivergator Blogs

Rivergator Chronicles: St. Louis to Cairo, Ill- The Shuttle

Rivergator Chronicles: St. Louis to Cairo, Ill- Elements and the Log

St. Louis Riverfront

Madison County, Ill

The Meramac River and Hopper's Marina

Island Explorations

Jones Towhead

Jones Towhead to Cottonwood Island

Cottonwood Island to Burnham Island

Beaver Island

Beard Island

Missouri Portland Cement

Bob Cassilly Funeral

The Flood of 1993

Rivergator Chronicles: St. Louis to Caruthersville

Healing with the Eagles

Mark River Blog:

Rivergator Chronicles: Low-water Treasures

Rivergator Appendix VII

Lower Mississippi River Dispatch

No 253, Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Raucous River Bottoms

Rivergator Appendix VIII

St. Louis to Caruthersville

by Stephanie Artz

Rivergator Appendix IX

Mr. & Mrs. ‘Sippi

Tuesday, July 7, Duck Island, Missouri River Confluence

Wednesday, July 8, Mosenthein Island, Mile 187

Thursday, July 9, Palmer Creek Island, Mile 168

Friday, July 10, Turkey Island, Mile 130

Saturday, July 11, Grand Tower, Mile 80.8

Sunday, July 12, Marquette Island – Cape Girardeau, Mile 50

Monday, July 13, at the head of Brown’s Bar (Dogtooth Bend), Mile 24

Tuesday, July 14, Moore Island, Lower Mississippi Mile 926

Day 10, July 15, New Madrid Missouri, Mile 891

Day 11, July 16, New Madrid Bar, Mile 888

Day 12, Friday, July 17, Bells Point, Mile 845

Rivergator Appendix X

St. Louis Points of Interest for Paddlers

Pere Marquette State Park

National Great Rivers Museum