Rainfall as destiny

"This map of rainfall demonstrated to John Wesley Powell that the rush to settle the plains and beyond was a disaster in the making. It was this stark visual evidence that inspired him to use maps to propose an alternative path for western development. Congress was intrigued, and briefly renewed his funding for research toward a comprehensive plan of irrigation. But Powell’s vision, however compellingly presented and argued, was simply too far removed from contemporary interests and assumptions about growth. It didn’t help matters that he was stubborn, and exuded the passion of an evangelist that rubbed many Senators the wrong way. Soon after his testimony, the Senate shut down Powell’s irrigation survey.

By the 1890s Powell’s ideas made him a household name among in California, though the irrigation enthusiasts had stripped away the cautious tone and replaced it with boundless enthusiasm for the future of agriculture. In the twentieth century, California’s vineyards and citrus groves became the envy of the world. At this moment, the entire state is in severe drought that extends across much of the southwest to Oklahoma, now in its driest year on record since the Dust Bowl in 1936. We might consider how different the west might look now had Powell’s ideas gained just a bit more traction over a century ago."

John Wesley Powell 19th Century Maps of the American West | New Republic

Driving away from interstates

I drove to Natchitoches, Louisiana on Thursday and then drove back on Friday. For the unitiated: Nack-i- dish.( In Texas, their cityis called, Natch-i-toach-es.)
Nice little Louisiana city, has old Creole population and Native American too. Oldest settlement in the Purchase, officially a few years older than New Orleans itself. Home of meat pies (crawfish pie is wonderful) and Steel Magnolias, the Hollywood movie. City itself? Charming, has some smart people. Seriously divided between rich and poor (which means between black and white in Louisiana) and full of festivals.
Oh yes, they got buggies too
crawfish pies
Half Shell Seafood catfish

Both days using state routes, I got to leisurely view the water levels, the small towns and peek at the culture of my state as I drove at speeds ranging from 35 to 60.
I always take 190 from Baton Rouge to Opelousas then catch one of the most boring and brutally sunlit highways sections, 1-49 between Opelousas and Natchitoches.
This time, on the way back home, traffic was forced off 1-49 over to state route 71 South, so I just stayed on that until 190 this time. I might just switch over to 71 to Alexandria from now on. It was much more pleasant.
71 was much less populated but I was able to ride through Bunkie LA and a few other small towns that were clearly built as railroad crossing towns. A water tower and one church (usually Baptist) identifies some life back there.
I'm a fan of traveling on state routes;maybe it comes from reading Blue Highways, William Least Heat-Moon's classic book from the early 1980s about traveling the blue routes (state routes were blue on the old highway maps) and the people he meets along the way in a van he names Ghost Dancing.

In any case, traveling along those means you drive slowly through little towns (sooo many speed traps back there) and can stop for boudin, or cracklins or some chicken at places with first names only (Miss Jean' or Charlie's) and see buildings up against these old roads advertising for car repairs, boat repairs or just hanging out places (lodges and bars).
190 is heavily traveled always and now with the Spillway open even more so. (At certain points, the police were flashing blue lights and had signs to warn about wildlife crossing (due to the floods). Still the drive was mostly peaceful and calm. Maybe someday (peak oil days) the state routes will be full of bicycles, tramps and mule-driven carriages rather than cars and trucks and then all of their glory will be revealed again.

River stage at French Quarter

River video

Spillway opening-3 pm CST.

Webcam chat at Ustream

We await the river's decision

Yes we now wait. Many of us have gone to the river bank this week and looked at its level and worried and wondered. We also think of our neighbors west of us who know that they will receive up to 15 feet of water in order to save Baton Rouge and New Orleans.
We also hear the river will close to traffic on Monday for the duration. How odd it will seem to not have the ships and the ferries. But all we can do is to talk and keep checking.

Last night, I went for drinks and dinner with a friend to Domenica, one of John Besh's newer restaurants. This one is in the Roosevelt Hotel, our most famous hotel since the 1920s which took almost 4 years to rebuild itself after levee destruction. Great food and drink, lovely place, good conversation. A welcome respite from a stressful few weeks.

We toasted our city and my new found freedom from employment, starting in early June. We talked about her sales at JazzFest, (www.kabukihats.com), her next show at Lincoln Center, my travels with the work that I have lined up over the summer.

Many good things may be coming to us individually but looming environmental issues also are coming closer. We now live with the knowledge that we are in an even more fragile place in a politically charged time. What will happen to the people of the Delta? To the farmers west and north? The fisheries? The small cities that surround the larger ones? What about the levee leakages some are seeing? And the pollution now added to our river where we get our drinking water? What happens to the levees when the water starts to drop?

I woke up today with a feeling of great weight in my heart: I rode to the levee and looked at the river again and silently asked it to stay in its agreed path, and to spare what it could.

And then I went home and made red beans and settled in for more wait.

map from MSNBC

"Control" of the Atchafalaya

The Control of Nature by John McPhee

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Well, if you have read my reviews, you know my middle-class connection to the New Yorker and its writers. The majority of my favorites wrote for the magazine (or currently write for it) and I assume this has to do with my teen discovery of the Algonquin Circle and its writers, and their politics and way of life.
So, no surprise that John McPhee is another favorite..

I think I have read all of his books, and this one is obviously dear to my brain and heart, as it does an admirable job explaining the relationship of the Atchafalaya and the Mississippi rivers, and the future of regions that bend nature to its control.

You'll see my review of John Barry's Rising Tide in my list which to me is the best work on the control of the Mississippi River.
So read that if you want to know what's happening in the middle of the country (and remind yourself why New Orleans must exist on one level- to maintain control and use of the river. You're welcome.)

And then take time to learn about the Atchafalaya Basin. In order to understand what the life of the Mississippi is about, you have to understand its sister, the Atchafalaya River. Our state IS more than New Orleans; it's a system of waterways and sustainable entrepreneurs that use the waterways to supply the shipping and the fisheries that sustain much of the entire U.S.




View all my reviews

Here is a direct link to the article: article in New Yorker
Here is the part that has stuck in my mind all of these years and is there again now:

“Those professors at L.S.U. say that whatever we do we’re going to lose the system,” he remarked one day at Old River, and, after a pause, added, “Maybe they’re right.” His voice had the sound of water over rock. In pitch, it was lower than a helicon tuba. Better to hear him indoors, in his operations office, away from the structure’s competing thunders. “Maybe they’re right,” he repeated. “We feel that we can hold the river. We’re going to try. Whenever you try to control nature, you’ve got one strike against you.”

Rising Tide

Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America by John M. Barry

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Well, well here we are again. Another hot summer has started and water is rising down South. At least this time we're not at the mercy of the Army Corps-oh wait. Hmmm. (Pack your paperwork, I beseech you my neighbors.)



Well it is true that the earthen levee system of the Mississippi is more substantial and a SYSTEM rather than the concrete pieces that were built on peat moss and sand along the canals of our Lake Pontchartrain and Industrial Canal here in New Orleans. We can be reasonably sure that the Corps will not kill thousands of people this month, mostly because this is a 100 year project and it is not dependent entirely on the current political system or money spent in post-capitalist America.



If you want to understand the breadth of this system I can most surely recommend this book to you. It's a page turner too, full of characters and politics and yes rising tides.

I'll tell you the best way for me to tell you how good the book is. I bought a second copy for my seafarin' stepfather who politely took all books on the Mississippi he was gifted and put them on his side table, never to be read. For this one, 2 weeks later I got a sideways, gruffly offered:

"hey that book? Not bad. not bad at all."



View all my reviews

Spilling our way

"Downriver in Louisiana, the Army Corps of Engineers began opening the first floodgates at the Bonnet Carre spillway about 30 miles northwest of New Orleans. Workers pulled restraining devices off 28 of the spillway's 350 gates, and the corps said it will monitor river levels before deciding to open more.

It's the 10th time the spillway has opened since the structure was completed in 1931.

The corps also has asked for permission to open the key Morganza spillway north of Baton Rouge. Officials warned residents that even if it were opened, residents could expect water 5 to 25 feet deep over parts of seven parishes. Some of Louisiana's most valuable farmland is expected to be inundated.

Later on Monday, state officials planned to begin moving some prisoners from the Angola state penitentiary, north of Baton Rouge.

Peak flows are not expected to reach the New Orleans area for more than two weeks.

Engineers say it is unlikely any major metropolitan areas will be inundated as the water pushes downstream over the next week or two. Nonetheless, officials are cautious.

# Bonnet Carre Spillway. In Louisiana, the Corps on Monday opened some of the spillway's gates, diverting some of the Mississippi into Lake Pontchartrain to ease pressure on New Orleans' levees. Built about 30 miles upriver from New Orleans in response to the 1927 flood, it was last opened in 2008. Monday marked the 10th time it has been opened. From the lake, the water flows east into the fertile fishing and oyster grounds of Lake Borgne and the Mississippi Sound, and ultimately the Gulf of Mexico.

# Morganza Spillway. The Corps has asked for permission to open some of the gates on this spillway, located 35 miles north of Baton Rouge, for the first time since 1973. Officials warned residents that even if it is opened, they can expect water 5 to 25 feet deep over parts of seven parishes. Some of Louisiana's most valuable farmland is expected to be inundated and towns like Houma and Morgan City would have to be evacuated. Already, communities are sandbagging as a precaution.

# West Atchafalaya Floodway. This last line of defense for New Orleans was built to take half of the Mississippi's highest flows and divert that to the Gulf. So far the Corps has not said it is considering opening this system."

More at www.msnbc.com

River folks

livinglandandwaters.org is dedicated to the revival of the Mississippi and its tributaries, doing things like adopt-a-mile programs, planting trees and much more. Glad to see people up the river taking an interest in the degradation what we end up seeing the results of on our end. Take a look at their site.

What has happened 7 times in 70 years? quiz yourself...

Quiz

(The best part is the answer key...)