To the Confluence

 

   Rivers give me a cozy feeling. I have confidence that if dropped into the middle of even the widest river I could eventually make it to shore. Once when I was 15, I swam across a mile wide river to see if I could do it. I could. I had a friend following in a rowboat just in case, but I didn't need him. When I got home, I didn't tell my mother what I had done but she knew something was up. "You look like a prune," she said.

   I don't feel the same way about the ocean. I've flown over the Atlantic and the Pacific and I always pull the shade and watch movies. I know if we go down, that's it. Even if we get the rafts launched, there will be storms, sharks and only salt water to drink.

   I like studying the courses of rivers and their many tributaries on the map. Rivers are a country's arteries and veins. I like going to the sources of rivers. I'm lucky to live so close to the source of the Mississippi. I've been there many times and if anyone makes the trip to visit us in Wannaska, I always take them on a day trip to Lake Itasca. 

   Most U.S. rivers flow south, but not the Roseau, the river that flows through our back yard. The Roseau, like the Nile, flows north. It makes it's way into Manitoba where it joins the Red River and eventually ends up in Hudson Bay.

   Steve Reynolds, aka WannaskaWriter, lives on the banks of Mickinock Creek. He uses the Ojibwa spelling “Mikinaak.” The Mikinaak runs into the Roseau about half way between Steve's place and ours. For all the times we've walked the mile between our places, usually in winter when the river and creek are frozen, I've never pinpointed the exact confluence of the creek and the river.

   With the drought this summer, the river is almost dry. I walked along the river bed the other day, scaring the frogs in the few remaining pools of water. I figured the creek would also be dry and this would be a good time to visit the confluence. Steve and I synchronized our watches and we invited Joe Stenzel, aka Wednesday's Child, to join us.

   A week ago Thursday, we set off from Steve's place. Steve led us across the muddy creek on an old beaver dam.

   The day was pleasantly cool and there was just enough cloud cover to filter out the sun.

 
 There were occasional splashes of color.

Steve obtained permission for our party to pass through the old farmstead.

   Steve and Joe stand in the bed of Mikinaak Creek and inspect a pool of water in the Roseau River.

   We continued on to our place where we enjoyed a well-deserved beverage. We made tentative plans to visit the confluence of the Roseau and Red Rivers on the Roseau River Indian Reservation in Manitoba. We can now get into Canada, but can't get back into the States for a couple of more weeks. Then there's the testing requirement. Oh well, maybe next summer.