Bemidji, Minnesota: I can remember far back in history, my history; hearing detailed weather reports about the coldest spot in the nation that day. Fraser, Colorado natives took pride in that distinction, “Coldest Spot In The Nation” Located on U.S. 40 Highway, it used to be on the main line over the mountains but Interstate I-70 has bypassed it now. If you find yourself in Fraser it’s because you made a wrong turn or have business with one of the thousand or so residents there. If Fraser wasn’t the “Most Cold” on a particular winter day it was, most likely, Bemidji, Minnesota. No mountains there but what they lack in altitude they make up in latitude. Land locked in northern Minnesota, in the path of 30-below-polar-cold-fronts, they sell lots of long underwear in Bemidji.
I had hoped that early October would be fresh and crisp with great fall color but rain is on the menu. Rainy-gray mist and low clouds spoil the view surely as frost on the windowpane. After several days we’ve kept to our schedule. Even with poor visibility our reason to be here hasn’t changed. Down the road about half an hour, fresh lake water spills over an unimpressive, man made riffle on its way down stream. Lake Itaska is the source, the birthplace of the Mississippi River. Water spilling over and between those stones level out in a shallow, sandy bottom stream, inches deep, maybe 30 ft. wide. Headwater to over 2,500 miles of river with all of its meandering, we have made it special. Humans do that.
We’ve built a monument and a state park to celebrate that new beginning. People come by the thousands to have their photos taken by the post, tiptoe across the stones or wade across the Mississippi, pant-legs rolled up and shutters tripping. A different explorer, another year; they could have chosen the Ohio River or the Missouri to be the mother of this great river system. It might have been in Pittsburg, PA or Brower’s Springs, MT but it’s not; it’s here in the bush, just southwest of Bemidji, Minnesota. It’s here because someone decided it should be here. The nature of glacial lakes and beaver ponds, of watersheds in particular is predictable and consistent with natural laws. The way people determine what is special and what is not is neither predictable nor consistent. But I drove all the way to see something special and I’ve decided, after looking at the lake and its modest contribution, that it is special. Down stream at the other end, along with input from thousands of other tributaries, at New Orleans the river’s flow rate is well over half a million cubic feet per second. From my perspective, it’s not just about this trickle but it represents the idea; things begin small, combine and interact. If it changes the world, the humble beginning and unfathomable resolution certainly does make it special.
Yesterday we drove east for an hour, to Grand Rapids, Minnesota. We crossed the Mississippi River several times as it bends and twists its way down hill. Folks around here take advantage of the tourism dollars but otherwise, it’s just a stream. They know where it goes but most have never driven across the Crescent City Bridge in New Orleans. If they had, then Lake Itaska and its little seep take on new significance. Imagine a Red Maple leaf like the one I saw yesterday, floating downstream, under the bridge where I was taking photos: no bigger than a cookie, all of its chlorophyl leached out so only xanthophyll was left, the yellow pigment made it burst against the dark water like a neon light. Even though unlikely, that little leaf has a ticket to New Orleans. If it could avoid decomposing, swirling eddies and a maze off stagnant back-waters, it might float under the Crescent City Bridge someday. What a story that would make. The average Minnesotan would have to reflect on all the miles and such volume; hard to imagine. But they might think about the transition and the scope of such a river system and it is special, whichever end you start with.
It snowed last night. Probably not a record, it can show here anytime after Labor Day. It was 28 degrees when the dawn grayed up, no record there either. We had hoped for better weather, at least some sunshine which is forecast for tomorrow. So, a good chance for bright lit photos tomorrow and a four day journey, down stream on the Great River Road. The plan is to be in Hannibal, Missouri on Tuesday.
No comments:
Post a Comment