This is the first dispatch for the Sunflower River Expedition 2009. These dispatches are exclusives for the “Friends of the Sunflower River.” It is posted here to give folks an update on what Big Muddy Adventures is up to these next two weeks. If you want to receive the rest of the dispatches, you will need to become a “Friend of the Sunflower River”. To do so, contact john ruskey, Quapaw Canoe Company, Clarksdale, MS. You can do so by email, john at island63.com
I have said, each of the three previous times, “This is it. The final phase of this odyssey. We are going to finish the Sunflower River Expedition this year.” It has been a bit of a jinx- to declare this to be the final phase of the Expedition.
Many of you know the story, but for those that don’t, John Ruskey and I began this thing in 2004. The idea was to paddle the Sunflower from headwaters to confluence, all in one continuous, uninterrupted expedition, just as we have done before, on the Missouri in 2002, on the Yellowstone in 2006, and here again. No stopping or restarting. All the way, “come hell or high low water.” And so we began, full of determination, but the Sunflower had its say. And the jinx was in. A spell was cast. The Sunflower River, so starved for attention that the first two river rats to travel upon its course in a long, long time were forced to stop, to come back again, and again, to paddle and push, lift, haul and struggle, to climb its muddy banks and cover ourselves in a goo that seems to take the entire year to get off, and especially to admire its resilience, to find the magic and the sadness of this river, the river that truly has the blues.
So here I am, back in Clarksdale, and yes, I’ll say it…”to finish the Sunflower Expedition.” But before we head south to the Anguilla Bridge and the wonders of the Delta National Forest, we have decided to spend this week in final preparation for the final miles, collecting the mojo of the Sunflower, exploring here, comparing it to that first year’s discoveries, and to carve some finishing touches on the dugout canoes which we will paddle on this trip. The Water Ram and the King Beaver have waited patiently for their opportunity to return to the waters from which they were born, a cottonwood and a sweet gum, transformed into vessels of such beauty, that they attract folks to the story and the glory. We have been filmed by Barefoot Productions, and interviewed by dozens of ordinary folks who want to know the usual… how long does it take to carve a canoe? how much do they weigh? What are they worth? Our answers are simple. They are never really done. They weigh less each day we carve. And they are… Priceless.
We have made this week into a long camp, a “canoe camp.” The routine has been… Awake early, hours before sunrise and write, doing the documentation, writing the dispatches to my students back home who have been my teammates on these trips each year, albeit virtually. Then, as the song birds sing the sun to rise, I have slipped into a tiny Bell canoe and paddled off to explore the river as it is here within the city limits of Clarksdale. I have alternated between upstream and downstream trips, one at sunrise, one at sunset, two and a half hour mini Expeditions, starting and ending right back at the put-in, the Sunflower Landing just below the Quapaw Canoe Company. Upstream to the Friars Point Road bridge. Downstream to Hopson Plantation, or thereabouts. The “happy hour of paddling.”
The Sunflower River in Clarksdale has not changed since the first year of this expedition. Despite the good efforts of the Friends of the Sunflower and the cleanup conducted this year, the trash remains omnipresent. So much so that upstream near the Friar’s Point Rd. Bridge, the beavers have incorporated it into their dam. Beaver chewed logs laid across the narrow channel with buckets, tires, barrels and mounds of plastic, interlaced in the handiwork that is the beaver’s. Shopping carts, car parts, oil drums, and tires get buried deeper and deeper into the mud with each rise and fall of the river. One particular eyesore is a huge scrap heap just over the bank, below the parked school buses of the Clarksdale school district. I wonder if the students there would be upset to know so.
Downstream, the three bridges turn the channel into a maze of sawyers, broken concrete and trash, tossed over the side, thoughtlessly, as if out of sight is all right. And further down, a mile or so below the Clarksdale Sanitation and effluence canal, the river flow stops abruptly. No beaver work necessary. A dam, completely made up of trash has become my turn around point.
And yet, despite the human malfeasance towards this river, it is still a place of great nature. Great Blue Herons, Great Horned Owls, Mallards, Kingfishers, Hawks and a great variety of song birds, squawk, hoot, quack and sing above its banks. White tailed deer, a red fox, the beaver and the turtles all making their homes along its course, and all within the city limits. I am, as always, enamored with the resilience, ever more hopeful that it will be celebrated for what it is, a river of life.
On Sunday, we will load the dugouts and the gear and be off, to… yes, here we go again, finish the Sunflower River Expedition. And since the jinx is in place, the Sunflower River Expedition will be turned over to you, to be continued.
