Mark River Peoples ~ The Wintering Days

"The wintering days have almost been forgotten by humans. Conveniences and technology have disrupted the balance of humanity. Many survival skills have been lost."

Lower Mississippi River Dispatch No. 969
"Voice of the Lower Mississippi River"

River Update: the river crested and is now slowly dropping close by (Arkansas, Tennessee, Northern Mississippi), but the wave continues to rise south of us in Greenville, Vicksburg, Natchez, Baton Rouge, and all points downstream.  New Orleans forecast has been upped to 16.9 on May 2, a mere one tenth of a foot below levels when the Bonnet Carre Spillway are normally opened.   Water levels will be a very thin 3 feet below topping levee.  You can see why everyone is getting nervous in that stretch of river.  (levee protects New Orleans up to 20 feet.) 

Mark River Peoples
The Wintering Days

  It's a warm Delta winter day in February with chilly winds. We have a group of Boy Scouts from neighboring Oxford, MS, preparing themselves for a future adventure in the Boundary Waters (known as the “Northern Tier,” in Boy Scout tradition). The goal was to prepare them for the canoeing & camping challenges they will encounter in the Northern Tier.  As guides our responsibility is to give the kids any type of information that will help them complete their expedition. The river was high for this time of year, so we decided to show the kids many types of paddling scenarios and water types by choosing to circumnavigate Island 63.

 We launch the Junebug II Canoe, a 29 ft. Voyaguer style canoe, with a full crew, but packing light, upstream into the wilderness. I immediately think of my Father who had passed two months prior with grief in every paddle stroke. We choose the circumnavigation because of high winds on the main channel.  We use the trees of the back channel to minimize the anguish. 

We hug the inside of the channel opposite the bend where the calmness water lies. The water level is perfect for the Beavers as we see signs throughout the forest of their activities. Cleaned willow saplings litter the muddy banks and freshly chewed trees, which probably have been felled by the time you read this, are marked throughout the tree line. We continue upstream and behold, we notice a rootball den with two large hairy bear- like creatures moving about. Two beavers heard us approaching and came to investigate. The Mother settled at the opening, holding her ground letting me know there's offspring, while the Father eased into the water to check us out from below. We continue on and suddenly a lone river otter runs from the wetland into the river. I figured he was a male looking for a mate because otters live in structured communities. For the kids, these are sitings of a lifetime.

  We come upon our first challenge, a low lying chevron with an environmental notch to aid fish species to reach their spawning grounds. It's a white water type attraction with water roaring through. We have a inspiring pep talk with the kids and with great effort paddled up the notch. It's like climbing a fluid mountain of water that has you in its vortex. It takes a good captain, a strong bow person, and a motivated crew. We hit it right on the first run and celebrated throughout the boat. It was a bonding experience that these kids will need to successfully navigate in the Northern Tier.

  We continue up the back side of the island looking for a sliver of sand to have lunch. The crew is tired, as I start to hear questions about how much longer we will be in the boat. We find a spot, but I notice the quietness of the kids, as they see the main channel for the first time. The River is roaring with a southernly wind creating white caps throughout. We saved the biggest challenge for last, our ferry crossing to Island 62. I'm proud of our performance, but all the kids see, is a wide, wind blown river that's a mile across. I point out our campsite and assure the kids that if we all paddle together, we will be there in no time. Another teachable moment.

  We accomplish our ferry crossing and set up camp on a sandy bluff on Island 62. I could feel the positive energy of achievement throughout the troop. We explain to the kids about sticking together and having a team concept. Don't count chores and to practice selflessness. John explains to the kids that there would be a change in wind direction that night and suggested tent locations. It was hard for me to take a step back and let the kids experience situations on their own, but that was the reason for the trip, so I let go.

  The South wind gave an illusion of a warm day, but mysterious clouds constantly flying over head gave me a sense readiness, not totally trusting the weather. I set up my tent in a area with 12 foot cottonwood shielding me from the wind. After set up, I start to write and let the muse of the River compose my manuscript. The trees are bare with piles of leaves spread throughout the sandy forest floor. It's warm enough, as lethargic mosquitos swarm around my head. Small white insects are swarming in amoeba-like balls and ant-like insects with wings are covering the ground. I continue to look over my shoulder as I hear rustling in the leaves. Thinking someone or something is approaching, but realized it was nothing but the wintering birds shuffling through the leaves, gorging themselves on insects. Usually their Winter diet consists of seeds and buds, but they have an early treat of protein rich insects a month before Spring. There were no birds in the trees.

  The barren trees make the island feel lonely. It seems as though everything is dead, when it's as alive as ever. I find myself sometimes staring at the River thinking about my Father. A man who I thought would literally live forever, which he will in my heart and mind, but his passing made me feel my mortality and helped me realize I have to cherish each day, each moment and continue to persevere like the Mississippi River.

  I come out of my daze and walk over to the campfire for dinner. The scouts are cooking and discussing everyone's roll and John and I are preparing to eat our meal of blackened salmon and brown rice. I look up to the sky and there are mysterious clouds surrounding the River. I don't give it much thought- it's always weird weather in Arkansas. There's nothing in the forecast, but I say good night and head to my tent. I can hear the wind pick up, but that was forecasted, high in the trees swerving tall cottonwoods and sycamores. The turbulence put me to sleep. I thought nothing of it.

  I wake early in the morning listening to mockingbirds, doves, and owls serenading the island canopy. We are heading home today, so I pack my  tent and carry it to the morning fire. I look around and the tents are gone. Apparently, the scouts didn't listen to John's "suggested tent spots" and got relocated by those howling winds I heard in my tent. Another bonding and learning experience for the scouts. I think this trip served its purpose and days to come it will be quickly Spring. 

  The wintering days have almost been forgotten by humans. Conveniences and technology have disrupted the balance of humanity. Many survival skills have been lost, depending on outsourced entities to feed us and control our daily activities. As I complete this blog , Spring has arrived, and the leaves of the willows, cottonwoods, sycamores, and oaks are blooming. The song birds have arrived. Ducklings are mimicking the their parent. The fish have spawned and all species are nurturing offspring. The River has risen 40 ft. from this time last year and it's welcomed by all species. The oxbow lakes are restocked, estuaries replenished, and wetlands rehydrated. The islands forest that have been choked by deadfall and leaves are swept clean for new flora and fauna to flourish and rejuvenate the food supply for herbivores and omnivores. It also displaces millions of insect and larvae for migrating birds, as they float and forage on driftwood, eating all the misplaced insects. The fish are happy also. The water is full of floating bounty.  It's as if the Lower Mississippi River has taken a deep breath, a sign of relief, for nature and humanity. I absorb all these lessons and moments from the River, returning to land a better person, to uplift my community by continuing to introduce generations of youth to the Mississippi River, creating and preparing river stewards for the wintering days to come. 

Mark River

About Mark River:
Mark River grew up hunting and fishing along the river with his father near St. Louis, MO. After attending Central Missouri State University, and becoming defensive back with the New York Giants, Mark left a career in professional football for the river. Mark is a writer for the Lower Mississippi River Dispatch and shares his intimate & nature-filled musings about river life in presentations and online platforms. When not on the water, Mark mentors Mississippi Delta youth and educates them on the importance of the protection and preservation of our national treasure for generations to come. He himself is a tributary to his community, like the stream is to the big river.  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.

Final word from the Mighty Quapaws: 
"Blues & Canoes!  ~ Join us on the River Today!"

Quapaw Canoe Company ~ Celebrating 27 Years of Service ~ 
~Winner of the SBA 2024 Small Business of the Year Award~