My house is approximately 2 miles distant from one of the wonders of the world, something I can’t see or hear. Perhaps on a particularly humid night, I can smell it, but it’s hard to know for sure.
Leader readers, most of you are in the same boat as me, except, at present, it’s not possible for us to get a boat, or even a toe, anywhere near this stupendous geographical marvel.
I know you know it’s the Mississippi River I’m talking about, the humongous waterway that makes up Jefferson County’s (and all of Missouri’s) eastern border.
I’ve often wondered why we countians don’t identify more with the mighty monster. Oh, sure, we notice its historic floods, but usually, the Mississippi is our out-of-sight, out-of-mind, sometimes-annoying neighbor.
Festus-area resident Eldon Hayes would like to change that.
“We have 22 miles of river frontage in the county (close to 1 percent of the river’s, 2,320-mile length), but at this moment, we do not have one access point to reach it,” he wrote in a letter to the Leader. “The total lack of Mississippi River access in Jefferson County has been bugging me for a while now.”
I hear you, Eldon.
Since I wanted to actually hear him, I called the phone number our letter writers are required to list. See, there’s a good reason for the rule.
A 49-year resident of Jefferson County, Eldon is 76. He spoke nostalgically of his younger years, when he twice took a boat out on the Mississippi from points in
Jefferson County.
He doesn’t recommend that for novices. When tackling the Great River (or “Misi-ziibi,” as the Ojibwe tribe called it), you need a big enough boat and motor, plus some know-how, Eldon said.
“It would be scary if you don’t know what you’re doing. You experience the different currents, and it will tend to move you around. It’s a little spooky.”
Eldon said his research shows the river’s width ranges from 4/10-mile to
1/2-mile along our eastern border.
He remembers catching a 25-pound catfish on the river and the time he and his 7-year-old daughter (now 43) fished from a wing dike (an embankment jutting out into a waterway) on property owned and maintained by the Plattin Rock Boat Club in Crystal City.
But eight years ago, the club restricted its river access to members only, in the wake of vandalism, maintenance costs and concerns about liability.
Eldon was sorry to see it happen.
“Hundreds, if not thousands, of people would drive to the boat club just to see the river. Most didn’t get out of their cars,” he said.
I couldn’t reach a club member by deadline, but a 2013 Leader story told its side of things.
Members had spent their time and treasure since 1956 developing the site – purchasing the land from PPG, clearing it, building a dock and clubhouse, repairing flood damage. Uninvited visitors had been spied behaving dangerously.
Hard to argue with their decision.
Eldon noted that the state-owned Truman Access, south of Festus, used to provide a rough roadway to the river and a boat launch, but he recently found that route chained off, too.
Leader Outdoors columnist John Winkelman reported last fall that the state Department of Conservation had closed the access indefinitely because of constant flooding there.
Tired of hauling in rock, year after year, only to find it covered under several feet of sediment after a flood, MDC will now let sediment accumulate, hoping the eventual higher elevation will be less flood prone.
Fingers crossed, construction on improvements will start in January 2022, but since fickle Mother Nature is solely in charge of sediment accumulation, we probably shouldn’t bet the (river)bank on a specific date.
I wondered if county officials have been thinking what Eldon’s been thinking.
County Parks Director Tim Pigg pointed out that topography is not our friend when it comes to accessing the Mississippi.
“We’re on the cliff side,” he said.
Years ago, I hiked close to the riverside to write a story about ancient Native American rock drawings (petroglyphs), so I know what he’s talking about. The late historian Frank Magre got me down there safely, but it wasn’t easy.
And while the county has elevations where the river’s majesty can be spied from above, most of that property is privately owned.
“If someone wants to donate some river overlook property, I’ll sure put in a park,” Pigg said.
There is a bright light round the bend, however.
Pigg pointed to the Jefferson County Port Authority, which hopes to complete construction of a riverboat dock in Kimmswick in June as the first step in a five-year development plan.
Port Authority Executive Director Neal Breitweiser sent me a rendering of future dreams, dependent on funding.
In addition to river parking for barges and large boats, the Kimmswick port may one day have a 500-seat amphitheater within 100 yards of the river (made of concrete and steel to allow hosing off after the sure-as-rain flooding), a fishing pier and a boardwalk river overlook.
Even further down the line, an eventual port in Crystal City could offer recreation opportunities, Breitweiser said.
Ports are also planned for Herculaneum and Pevely, but those will be industrial.
“The Crystal City area has more undeveloped land,” he said.
I told him how Eldon closed his letter.
“Somehow, it just doesn’t seem reasonable that we live on the west bank of the second-longest river in the country and we can’t get to it,” he wrote.
“Well,” Breitweiser said with a lift in his voice, “I’m working on it.”
