Fishing at the confluence of the Minnesota River (left) and Yellow Medicine River.
Superimpose a map of major rivers in the U.S. over a map showing states, colored red or blue according to election results. The Mississippi begins in northern Minnesota (blue), flows past Wisconsin (purple), between Iowa (red) and Illinois (blue), and then bordering red states until flowing into the Gulf of Mexico.
Flowing from their source and following geography, you see that rivers don’t care about politics, except perhaps for that addressing environmental issues. In that arena, perhaps rivers can help cool today’s intense partisan politics. Most people from all ideological perspectives support the work necessary to improve and protect water quality in streams and rivers, lakes, too.
In Minnesota there is hope that a divided state legislature can divert from conflict to work together for the state’s namesake river, the Minnesota. For more about this see my recent freelance story in MinnPost, “Minnesota River restoration, long a labor of love for advocates, could be getting a boost from the state.”
Flowing across the state, west to east like a backward checkmark, the Minnesota River offers unique environmental challenges, primarily excessive amounts of sediment from cities and farm fields, altered hydrology, and unique geology. For decades people from across the political spectrum who care about the river have shown sometimes grudging but consistent cooperation to address the challenges.
Work and play
Before roads and rails spread across the landscape, rivers provided a primary means of transportation. They still do for barges on the Mississippi laden with grain or other bulk goods. But it’s not all work and no play. Recreation on streams and rivers can provide a welcome escape from the stresses and strains of life, now exacerbated by disinformation-fueled partisan politics.
I’ve spent many enjoyable hours, punctuated with adrenaline-fueled moments, paddling kayaks and canoes on the Minnesota River and its tributaries. Paddling with others you don’t care about their politics, wealth, or religious beliefs. You are all heading in the same direction, sometimes needing the assistance of others. If rivers can provide metaphors for life, that would be a good one. You are alone in your own craft, in the same environment, yet you rely on others for community and safety.
Like the time I was paddling in the stern of a canoe with a bow partner on the Chippewa River, a tributary of the Minnesota River. In a quick current we were heading for a strainer – a jumble of fallen trees across the channel. I saw a small opening, that if approached correctly, we could squeak through. My partner looked worried. Don’t worry, I said, we’ll make it. We did, but the partner was forced to trust me.
Another strainer, this time on the Minnesota River, grabbed my kayak and wouldn’t let go. Other paddlers came to my rescue and I got free, except for my camera that disappeared into the river’s murky water. I probably could have extricated my kayak, but I appreciated the help, especially after hearing later about an experienced paddler on Hawk Creek getting caught in a strainer and drowning. Hawk Creek inspired some of the setting for my second novel, Buffalo Ridge.
Metaphor, settings
If rivers and streams offer metaphors for life, they can be poignant settings for many great books. Think of Mark Twain’s Life of the Mississippi, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, or The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. A copy of the latter travelled to my bookshelf from an obligatory visit to Hannibal, Missouri. Set in the American West, A River Runs Through It, by Norman Maclean uses fly fishing and the Blackfoot River as a metaphor for life, family, and the passage of time.
ChatGPT says, “Scripture treats rivers as sources of life, boundary markers, and signs of God’s provision. The Tigris and Euphrates frame Eden. The Jordan River serves as a place of crossing, cleansing, and renewal, marking Israel’s entry into the land and later John’s baptizing work. The Nile appears in the Exodus story as both burden and deliverance.”
Also, they inspire ethics and philosophy. “Do unto others downstream as you would have those upstream do unto you.” – Wendell Berry. “However far a stream flows, it never forgets its origin” — African proverb. The river never forgets its source.
‘For love of a river’
Getting back to the Minnesota River and books, I highly recommend looking up For Love of a River: The Minnesota, by Darby Nelson. Over a period of five years, Darby and his wife, Geri, covered its 335-mile course, meeting people, teaching about the environment, and escaping partisan politics.
A back cover blurb reads, “If you are proud of your state, but not well-acquainted with its namesake river, in For Love of a River: The Minnesota, Darby Nelson will take you on a paddle pictured in words, all delightful and illuminating, all reminiscent of Sigurd Olson’s prose about Minnesota’s Boundary Waters Canoe Area.” As the contributor of the blurb, I am not prone to exaggeration.
Darby’s first book, For Love of Lakes, offers similar quality in its prose and the conjoining of human experience with scientific background, which comes from his career teaching biology at a community college. Science and water quality monitoring provide the foundation for efforts to improve and protect lakes, rivers and streams.
I enjoy having a small role in that as a volunteer water quality monitor for the Hawk Creek Watershed Project. In training for the task, I was told to always take the sample from the thalweg, the deepest part of the channel, often in the middle but not always. That word comes from German: Thal-valley, Weg-way. When paddling downstream, stay in the thalweg in the stronger current even though it may meander along with the riverbed.
I take water clarity samples at six sites in sections between a chain of lakes. Living in the upper reaches of the Hawk Creek watershed, any molecule of water that leaves our property could reach the Minnesota River, the Mississippi, and eventually the Gulf of Mexico. That we still call it that offers hope for a return to community, if not always unity.
