July 11, 2009 - 31 to 84 at 90 CFS

From Summer 2009

84 south to the Landing at 300 CFS last Friday; the Southern Magnolia teaches children to climb; a warm winter sun turns to rolling thunder; Twain

I always expect a winter run to be less than a warm weather run.  Happily, the river always proves me wrong.  A hundred shades of green drape over the summer river, but just as many gray and brown shades take their place as the Oaks take a long nap.   This leaves the evergreens—the Holly, the Magnolia, and the Pines—to stand out for a good look see.  On this run I noticed the Magnolias in particular.  The Southern Magnolia has a gorgeous flower which is the state flower of Louisiana. Today the Magnolias seem unusually tall along the banks.  A medium southern Magnolia reaches 80 feet, but several on this run have grown higher, rather than wide, I guess because of competitor trees around them. The Southern Magnolia is often the tree teaches a child to climb because its limbs begin low and are numerous all the way up.   

This run started with warm winter sun, and then the clouds moved in with thunder—exactly as predicted by weather.com for this zip code.   The last 30 minutes of rolling thunder in the distance brought a light sprinkle of rain pipping on the river and my rainsuit.   By the time I made the Landing, the rain was coming down hard, but it was pleasant because I had on rain gear.  I ran the two miles through the woods back to the camphouse.   The tea colored creek where my son shot his first deer was swollen wide, and its water was cold. I stood in it and remembered the excitement of that moment with him, which seemed so long ago, when it was only a season ago.  This is the same spot where my daughter shot a .22 rifle for the first time.  

Two decades after reading it as a young, stupid man, I am reading Mark Twain’s “Life on the Mississippi” again, a non-fiction work of his about his days as a pilot.  I loved the book twenty years ago, and enjoy it more even now as a middle-aged, stupid man.  Try to wrap your mind around this fascination from Chapter One:  “The Mississippi is remarkable in still another way--its disposition to make prodigious jumps by cutting through narrow necks of land, and thus straightening and shortening itself. More than once it has shortened itself thirty miles at a single jump!  These cut-offs have had curious effects: they have thrown several river towns out into the rural districts, and built up sand bars and forests in front of them. The town of Delta used to be three miles below Vicksburg: a recent cutoff has radically changed the position, and Delta is now two miles above Vicksburg.”   After reading that, get out a piece of paper and draw a meandering line with a north town and a south town and have the river line cross at a between two necks so that the towns switch north and south positions.

Mr. Twain shares the pre-civil war potpourri of cultures in New Orleans with his readers.  To this day, even after Katrina, it is a wonder for the eyes to behold.  I recently ran away with my wife for 2 days of retirement, and I started the mornings running the French Quarter before 10 a.m.   If you’re a runner, a great way to see the Quarter architecture is to run 4 or so miles up and down its one way streets.  The entire work, “Life on the Mississippi,” is here.  http://www.online-literature.com/twain/life_mississippi/  (Triscuits)