Why the Mississippi River Feels Like Home to Me
It was there for me when I needed it
My response to the February “Flowing Water” prompt on Reciprocal:
Between the ages of eleven and thirteen, every other weekend I was shuttled up and down highways along the Upper Mississippi River. It was a three-hour drive between my dad’s place in River Falls, Wisconsin, and my mom’s in LaCrosse, Wisconsin. I spent most of the time on the drives looking out the window. I got to know the river in all of its seasons. The river helped me through some hard times, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.
When my parents sat the three of us down and told us they were getting divorced, it was a shock to all of us. My older brother, who was twelve, became more angry and unpredictable. My younger brother, who was just six, became more needy. I did what I could to hold the family together, while also falling apart in my own invisible ways.
From River Falls, we had to travel down to Wabasha, Minnesota to meet the river. The drive down took us through dairy farm country. The highways went through valleys of farmland, with wooded hills on either side. That combination of forest and farmland is not found everywhere, and it makes Wisconsin unique. I didn’t know it at the time, but, with its mix of wild and cultivated space, perhaps the landscape was molding me.
Coming into the Mississippi River valley in this part of Wisconsin means dropping down from the ridge to the valley floor, with weathered limestone bluffs on either side of the road. It is a long descent, and I remember having to yawn because my ears would pop.
Before we get to Wabasha, we had a choice to make. Would we take the scenic route, and stay in Wisconsin on two-lane Highway 35? Or would we cross the high bridge and take Highway 61 down the Minnesota side? Minnesota was slightly faster, but we got to see less of the river. My mom and dad usually met somewhere in the middle to do the handoff, I think it was a gas station called Casey’s.
The car rides were hard for all of us.
As an adult, I can see how my mom’s fear of driving is not typical, but as a kid, I thought it was normal that driving is not just regular scary, but terrifying. She would grip the wheel intensely, and when we would cross a bridge, I could feel her fear level rise. Driving on icy roads elevated the stress level, too.
How my younger brother would handle the ride was always an uncertainty. He might have a meltdown or tantrum. He might have endless questions. He might crash and sleep the whole way. I could never sleep. I had to watch the road and/or also manage my brother so my mom could focus on driving. I would answer a string of questions that could seem like they had no end. Or we would play guessing games. All while watching the road and the landscape.
The Mississippi between Minnesota and Wisconsin is not the same as it is further south, like by Memphis or St. Louis. There it is wide enough that in places you can barely see across. Here, up north, it is more recognizable as a river. The central channel has barge and boat traffic, and every so often there is a lock and dam. Locks and dams are mammoth public works managed by the Army Corps of Engineers to maintain water levels and facilitate river traffic. It is amazing to see the huge grain barges when they go through the locks.
Driving alongside the river, we would call out when we saw barges or locks and dams. “Barge!” And then we would all look. “Lock and Dam #5!” And so on. It was part of the trip. Make it interesting. Distract my brother and help keep my mom focused.
The steep bluffs on either side border a wide riverway system that is mostly swamps, marshes, and backwaters. We learned to identify wetland birds and call them out when we saw them. The Great Blue Heron and the Great Egret were the kings of the wetlands, but we would also call out ducks and geese and terns. One time, my mom stopped the car and pointed out a Bald Eagle in a tree. At the time DDT had been only recently banned, and Bald Eagles were an endangered species. From then on, I looked out for Eagles and would call them out, too.
In winter, the meltwater along the bluffs by the roads would freeze as it came through and over the limestone. The cliffs by the road would become covered in sheets of ice. These looked like frozen waterfalls and would go on for miles.
As an adult, I can appreciate that the drive along the river between River Falls and LaCrosse is one of the most beautiful drives in the nation. People from the Twin Cities make a day of it and it is especially popular among bikers. The bluffs are nothing short of majestic. The wetlands and the river are always providing something new to witness. The little river towns are iconic, with brick buildings and 19th-century facades. The towns have craft and antique stores and ice cream shops. It is a thing for tourists.
As a child, I took it all in. I didn’t appreciate it then, but now I can see how the river, with its beauty and diversity, was a partner in healing my own hurt and my family’s hurt. I took it for granted then, but I can see it now.
Now I live an hour’s drive from the Mississippi, and I only go maybe once or twice a year. When I do, I greet the river like an old friend, like somebody who was there with me during a hard time. And it is true.
Check out this River Prompt story by Arun:
And I’d also like to send appreciation to Sahil Patel for his story:
Here is one of my recent stories:
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