|
||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|||||||||||||||||
|
|
The Great Hatchie Canoe Expedition -
Day 4: River Life Seen and Unseen
Author: Monica Clutch
Date: January 31, 2008
Location: north of Whiteville, TN
Photo © Monica Clutch/TNC
Previous entries in the blog
At last we were able to get back out on the river. Mike Martin and I met that morning where the Hatchie River lazily meanders under Highway 100 near Toone, Tennessee, intent on covering the 20 miles to our planned take-out near Hatchie Station, northwest of Mercer. With a chilly launch temperature of 30 degrees, we hoped the forecast for high temperatures near 60 would materialize, and that, unlike Day 3 of our trip, we could manage to stay dry throughout our journey.
After several days without rain, the Hatchie was well within its channel. This was a distinct contrast to our first two trips, during which we witnessed water flowing into and out of the floodplain, depending on the elevation of the surrounding forest. Day 3 of our journey had taken place after a few days without rain, and, though somewhat lower, the river had remained nearly full to its banks. On this, the fourth day of our canoe adventure, the Hatchie was down about two feet below its full stage with only a trickle of water entering from small wet-weather conveyances — a fancy name for the small ditch-like depressions in the forest floor that carry the last bits of water back into the river after a rain.
Our 20-mile route on Day 4.
During the earliest part of the day, the sky was overcast, heavy with clouds that promised to bring forth the rains expected later in the week. Without the reflection of a blue sky, the river appeared even more brownish-green and muddy as it moved along in a pattern of gentle whorls and eddies.
As an ecologist, I am trained to look at a river from a scientific perspective, interpreting its behavior through such features as channel shape and slope, water volume, and other quantifiable properties. Increasingly, though, I understand the perspective of the locals who assign human characteristics to the Hatchie, and I catch myself referring to it as a living entity. It is not surprising then, that on this day I viewed the river as almost “playful” at times as it bounced the limbs of downed trees in the water and twisted our canoe as we passed through an eddy.
As the day progressed, the temperature rose somewhat, allowing Mike and me to relax and discuss other environmentally timely issues, such as climate change, the status of the ivory-billed woodpecker, and the future of conservation in West Tennessee. We marveled at the wonders of technology as Mike sent an e-mail, and I send a text message from our position in the middle of the Hatchie River. My education in winter identification of bottomland hardwood forest tree species continued. Besides being a good teacher, Mike is patient, and he steadfastly paddled along, keeping us moving, despite the fact that my deciding what species of oak I was seeing typically involved putting down my paddle as I lapsed into deep concentration. Other times, rather than using the paddle for forward propulsion, I used it to stab the air as I emphasized a point.
Turkey in a tree along the Hatchie. Photo © Monica Clutch/TNC
Wildlife All Around
We were privileged to enjoy many encounters with Hatchie wildlife. White-tailed deer seemed to be on the move, and we also came upon a large group of turkeys. We appreciated their ability to take to the skies despite their relatively large size as they flew to the treetops, watching us — two intruders disturbing their normally peaceful morning’s browse through the forest floor. As always, the woodpeckers announced their presence with loud taps and calls. The Hatchie is a phenomenal place to see several woodpecker species, including the impressive pileated woodpecker, the red-headed woodpecker, and the smaller downy and hairy woodpeckers.
Besides the wildlife we did see, Mike and I reflected that there was an enormous amount of wildlife we were not seeing right at that moment — not because it wasn’t there, but because it was obscured from view by the muddy, watery realm it inhabits. We talked about the tremendous biodiversity that was right beneath our canoe, from the many fish species to the somnolent, hibernating amphibians and reptiles, and the unobtrusive mussel species that play such an important (and underappreciated) role in ecosystem function.
Shifting Sands
I also noted the increase in the number of large sand bars along the length of the river. Most of these were expected, because they were located along the inside bend of the river. This is a normal feature of meandering rivers: as the river makes a bend, it slowly wears away the banks of the outward bend where the greatest force strikes the stream bank. Meanwhile, the inside of the bend is a depositional zone, allowing for the build-up of sand and other sediments.
A Hatchie sandbar. Photo © Monica Clutch/TNC
Eventually, as the river changes course or a big rain event occurs, the sand and sediment will be blown out and sent downstream to the Mississippi River, and eventually to the Gulf of Mexico. This is a normal process in rivers like the Hatchie and does not present a real problem until unnatural levels of sediment — in the case of the Hatchie that sediment is from the channelized tributaries — enter the system and cause disruption to the delicate balance of sediment transport and deposition. Much of our conservation work on the Hatchie River is focused on addressing the sources of sediment and finding the latest, scientifically-supported methods of preventing excess sediment from being washed downstream from degraded areas of the Hatchie’s headwaters.
I was surprised when we reached our take-out point just north of Hatchie Station. The day seemed shorter than usual. Whether it was because we are improving our canoeing skills as we continue the Hatchie Expedition, or because we did not experience any major mishaps, or because the weather ended up favorably suited to our purpose, it all added up to the same thing: we ended the day with eager anticipation of Day 5. As I write this, we are in the second of two solid days of rain and the temperature is bitingly cold. I drove under a flock of ducks headed toward the Hatchie National Wildlife Refuge, which will mark our next take-out. It should be a great trip.
On to Day 5...
Join The Nature Conservancy on
Facebook
Flickr
Twitter