There Will Be Struggles
By Mark River in honor of Earl Peoples Jr. (1933-2024)
Mark River, Fall Morning
I sit with my Quapaw teammates huddled close to a blazing fire fueled by the nippiest north wind on a sandy beach. It’s early October, but we’re getting a taste of the coming winter. The bacon is done and we are waiting for the clients to wake before we cook the eggs. It's the last day of the trip and we are up early packing and cooking, so we can get an early start. They have to be at the boat ramp at 9am, which is challenging already, but you never know how the pack will go, so we must stay on point. In fifteen minutes I will be forced to give the " Quapaw Hoop" to get the day going. The Sun is about to peek over the willows, sycamores, and cottonwoods across the River. The water is being pushed by a surprisingly strong North wind giving a false sense of a fast flowing waterway, but I know better, it is low water and I feel the soreness of a grueling paddle on a slow river from the days before. I have a family from Australia on a USA tour and we are happy to be part of it. Mom, Dad, and two daughters — 8 and 10 respectively, have inspired me to write about struggle — a part of life.
I anxiously wait for the big orange sphere to rise, while watching fish species like skipjack, moon eye, and gizzard shad leap out of the shallows, evading predators below. I scold myself, not bringing my fishing pole, but still able to enjoy the cycle of life, as these fish are already having a tough day. It's cold as I snuggle up the fire. The wood is burning fast, but giving off surviving heat. The boat is way out the water, so we must push it in before we load. The river has dropped about a foot, as a cypress root ball that was in the River yesterday is now in the middle of a pool like a castle with a moat. It's 7:01 and the clients are awake. We are supposed to be on the water at 8, so I must go for now. We started our journey two days prior on a slow river with heavy winds. A predominantly west wind on an westerly section of the River created an unforgiving headwind, combined with heavy towboat activity, made for a challenging day. The design of our Langley Canoe with high ends makes it vulnerable on windy days, but its light weight can be helpful for maneuvering with not so experienced paddlers. When you don't have steady momentum, you are at the mercy of the River. The wind a is living entity, that has jester-like tendencies, that we have to overcome to get to our destination, the beautiful sandbar island 62. The day was sunny and hot. So we were being challenge by multiple elements — a slow River, high headwinds, and hot Sun. For a captain, these days are grueling. Not able to propel your vessel forward, you find yourself correct stroking continuously, struggling the keep the boat straight while keeping your composure, not to alarm the crew. The young ladies enjoyed the struggling and suffering by asking innocent, honest questions, not knowing that their paddles in the water were the most important thing at the moment. I am enjoying our conversation because it takes my mind off of things and helps in our beautiful struggle. My plan was to go straight to camp, but the energy of the crew is low. The parents looked slightly sunburnt and the girls were done with paddling, so I decided to swallow my pride, and pull to a beautiful sandbar out of the wind, and set up lunch. "Why don't we take a two hour siesta, and wait out the wind?" I suggested. A sound of relief rippled through the crew, and a thumbs up from the parents let me know I made a wise decision. I found a small cottonwood with umbrella-like shade and passed out for two hours. A nap on the River on a hot, windy day is gift from God. With high winds, there are no bugs.
I wake to the reenergized girls playing in the sand and the parents refueled from their naps. The wind had mellowed somewhat and our destination was in sight as we paddle around the bend. As we approach the island, we hear the sound of drumming. An eagle soars above us as if part of the plan. We pass a group of friends, who we had dropped off a week before, and are welcoming us to the island with a drum song. "Who are they Mr. River?” the girls say simultaneously, intrigued by it all. “Oh, just some River Rats we know,” I responded, adding to the mystery.
Winter is coming and I see the signs throughout the island. Animal offspring are in for their first winter and it will be an test to see if they watched and learned from their parents. A pack of coyotes, walking in straight line carefully using each other's tracks to disguise movement and numbers, leave honey locust seeds in their scat, letting me know that food is scarce. Their goal is to sneak up on the pelicans resting at the edge of the sandbar. Various species of gar are trapped in shallow pools with their fate sealed. They will soon be a nutritious meal for and the eagle, osprey, egret, heron, coyote, raccoon, weasel, bobcat, pig, or human. The pelicans, Arctic terns, cormorants, and seagulls are feeding off of low lying sandbars.The fish are hungry as ever as insects, reptiles, and amphibians are hibernating.
The trips ends well. But as I complete this blog, I get the news that a man dreads to hear. My iconic Father has passed away at the age of 91. He introduced me to the Mississippi River at the age of 2. He has been a steward of this great river his whole life. He taught me how to hunt, fish, and trap small game. He taught me how to make homemade traps as an 8-year old kid, which I had to set and retrieve daily before school. Rabbits, squirrels, muskrat, raccoons, and opossum that ended up at my grandma’s house on the weekend, while the hides were somewhere drying and stretched in the shed out back. My Father taught me that we all are God's creatures no matter what God you chose. If God gave us dominion over all creatures, then we are the watchers of that kingdom, and we must protect it for mankind and future generations.
"May the River be With You,” as I go bury my Father.
Mark River Peoples
In honor of my Father, Earl Peoples Jr. (1933-2024)
Lower Mississippi River Dispatch No. 953 "Voice of the Lower Mississippi River" Vicksburg, MS ~ Memphis, TN ~ Clarksdale, MS ~ Wilson, AR Quapaw Canoe Company ~ Celebrating 27 Years of Service ~ ~Winner of the SBA 2024 Small Business of the Year Award~
About Mark River:
Mark River Peoples is chief of operations, and chief guide and youth leader for the Quapaw Canoe Company. He produces and narrates a podcast called "May the River be With You." He is southern leader of the One Mississippi Program, which connects people who care about rivers with the people who make decisions about rivers. He is on the steering committee of the same. During the winter lull he is wood-shopping at Quapaw Canoe Company for construction of the next big canoe, and in preparation for a busy Spring 2025 season guiding adventures and explorations of the Lower Mississippi River. His blog writing is inspired by his work on the Big River -- and its many tributaries such as the Yazoo, the Big Sunflower and the Arkansas Rivers.
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.
Thank you all for your words of encouragement and well wishes. May the River Be With You. Mark River
River, I love your writing about the Mississippi, nature, and all her critters. Sending my heartfelt condolences to you on the loss of your father. Thank you for sharing your memories of him and describing his role in encouraging your love of the river.