Reece's Pieces: The Missouri River - No Place for Explorers

Missouri River - 1804 - Pathway of the Explorers

Missouri River - 2013 - No Explorers Allowed

The Lewis & Clark Expedition explored what would become Jefferson City, Mo in early June, 1804. They had it easy for 2 reasons:

1. The Missouri River, the longest river in the U.S., was not at flood stage at the time; and

2. The Jefferson City Police Dept. had not yet been established.

When I attempted to do a little exploring of the currently flooded Missouri River early Sunday morning, a barricade and a police SUV blocked my way. I guess I can understand that. In 1804, if you did something stupid and needed rescuing, you were on your own. In 2013, if you do something stupid and need to be rescued, emergency personnel risk life and limb to save you and, as thanks, you might just sue them for letting you do something stupid in the first place. Hence, the manned barricade leading to the Noren access below Jefferson City’s twin bridges.

On Saturday the barricades were a few hundred yards closer to the river when my wife and I visited. Picnic tables were readily available - provided you didn’t mind sitting in waist-deep water with God only knows what swimming at your feet. The pedestrian bridge across the river was open and the fitness-minded and curious traversed the span for a bird’s eye view of the river and the State Capitol. The swirling, coffee-colored water carried debris, both natural and man-made, on its way to St. Louis where it would take a right-turn, join forces with the mighty Mississippi, and head to New Orleans.

Mark Twain once described the Mississippi River as “good for steamboating, and good to drink, but worthless for all other purposes, except baptizing.” Anyone on the banks of the Mississippi River today that’s there after a baptizing might find themself in the hereafter sooner than they expected.

Halfway across the Missouri River pedestrian bridge I saw a family peering at something under the bridge. There, six feet below their feet, a pigeon rested on a girder, resting up from whatever activity normally occupies a busy pigeon's time. Later, as I was busy taking pictures of the floodwaters, something warm hit my arm.

Oh yeah. Now I remember how pigeons stay busy.