It seems that the Mississippi only makes it in the news when it’s flooding or something happens that slows down barges. You can be forgiven if you think the Mississippi today is little more than a taxpayer-funded shipping canal hidden behind levees.

I was reminded of this after a recent 11-day trip along the Upper Mississippi River. After a weekend exploring the urban scene in Minneapolis (with its riverfront bikers, joggers, and walkers), I headed north and spent two days alone on the river, canoeing 39 miles of wild river into Bemidji. I was a little banged up from an unfortunate lapse in concentration hiking down a bluff a few weeks earlier, so I ditched my plans for more hiking up and down bluffs and took my time driving around and visiting with friends instead.

tn_Canoes01The slow pace gave me plenty of time to see what was happening along the river. Pleasure boaters were out in force, trying to make up for fun lost to a late spring and early summer floods. Diners packed the patios of riverfront restaurants. Carloads stopped at lock and dam viewing areas to watch boats lifted up or lowered down to river level. I had time to meet quite a few people, too, including:

• Natalie, who paddled the length of the Mississippi with 10 other paddlers last year, helping young folks make a connection with the natural world;
• Erin, a friend who bicycled for hundreds of miles along the Mississippi River Trail;
• Two artists, Wes and Kai, who traveled in a homemade shantyboat to collect stories of how life used to be along the Mississippi;
• Terry, a guide/outfitter who helps visitors experience the Mississippi near its headwaters and who collects berries from the forest and wild rice from area waters to supplement his income;
• Reggie, Pam, Yarrow, and Molly at Big River Magazine;
• And a few people partying in houseboats who didn’t volunteer their names and who were too drunk to offer a helping hand on Lake Irving (I did fine without them, anyway).

tn_Fishing15I heard stories of other folks making epic trips, either by biking, walking, or paddling the river. I learned of artists whose work is inspired by the Mississippi. I passed boat ramps full of parked trucks with empty trailers, the owners out on the river somewhere to catch a few fish. I got a good peak at the laid-back lifestyle of a boathouse community near Brownsville, Minnesota, and left with more than a touch of envy in my heart.

I’ll have a chance to introduce you to some of these folks in future posts. For now, though, I’m struck by how easy it was to find people who engaged with the river in so many different ways. It’s a big river, and there are many ways to enjoy it. Even more striking, none of these people needed corn shipped to New Orleans and taxpayers spent little to nothing to support them.

© Dean Klinkenberg, 2014