A nice scene

Last Sunday I took a joy ride on The Monongahela Monitor downriver to the Greer fleet, which is just below the power plant on Beechurst Avenue.

I noticed a motor boat along the west bank across from Deckers Creek with a man, woman and two children. The kids and dad were fishing, quietly sharing some quality time in the shade of the big sycamores and paw-paw trees.  I also saw a guy in a kayak fishing.  That's something that takes some coordination, I believe.  Regardless: it was good to see.

I have often thought of the Mon River at Morgantown as our Cheat Late. People are so into recreation on Cheat Lake, but for those of us who live in Morgantown, well, the river's a lot closer.  And now, with our no wake zone from just below the Westover bridge to the lock and dam, it's a lot more peaceful.

An example, pretty good sized cruiser passed me while I was at the Greer fleet at a pretty good clip. He had a jet-ski zooming along behind him.  So, I was curious about what would happen when he went around the bend and encountered the no wake buoy.

It was perfect.  The jet ski did a couple of doughnuts and they both came about and headed back down the river.  Now, just imagine if that buoy and no wake zone were not there.  The guy fishing in the kayak and the family fishing along the west bank would have been pounded by the wake of the cruiser and jet ski.  I think everyone was well served by our new no wake zone.

Oh, I also watched a heron.  These birds seem to pose for me: I came up to one along the west bank across from Ruby McQuain Park and watched it spread its great wings and fly to a branch further upriver. Then, it posed, its long neck and legs, dagger-like beak and top crest, gray and back-lit against the green trees. Then, it flew off again, posing in the air, swooping just above the water, reflecting in the river, to another branch, where, of course, it posed again as my boat overtook it. Herons along the Mon River do this; flying as you approach, then posing, then flying, posing, flying, as your boat get closer again and again.

The folks in fast boats, bouncing everyone around as they pass, don't get to see this.  Too bad, I guess.

Hey, maybe I'll see you down at the river!

Anyone lose a pickup bed liner?

We wondered how something like this bed liner came to be in the Monongahela River. No good answers. It's among the largest items we've pulled out; probably second to the car bumper from a couple years ago. (Click photo to enlarge.)

Anyway, we had a good day of "fishing" for litter on the Mon and really got the Morgantown harbor area looking good.  In this photo you see the liner and our other ''catch" with crew members Carol on the left and Hannah on the right.

Thanks, Carol and Hannah. They worked hard, as you can see in this photo, left. Each bottle, Bud Lite can, etc., must be picked up individually. There's no other way. So this is labor intensive, and it takes a real commitment to the environment and the Earth and the Monongahela River, to get this job done.

Below, the crew cleaning up the decks of the Monongahela Monitor back at the dock after our Saturday morning effort.

Kiosk work, river baptisim,

On Sunday, Chris, Biao and I tried to finish up work on our Walnut Street information kiosk. This is our second installation. The other is at the mouth of Decker's Creek.  We didn't finish, but made some progress, and we'll soon have this up. Funds for these have been provided by Longview Power.

Regardless, we got to witness something really neat - a river baptism. As we were encountering yet another difficulty with hanging the kiosk bulletin board, a group of people approached and one person introduced himself as the preacher of the Catalyst Church, which meets up on High Street.

He said they were coming to a baptism.

Pretty soon everyone gathered round and we stopped work and one of the congregation waded into the water, still rather cold, and was baptized.  I mentioned to the preacher how I understand the river to be sacred, that rivers are, and how I thought river baptisms had died out but was glad to get to see one.

Many rivers are sacred, perhaps all.  Maybe all water is sacred.

"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree :

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea."  -Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I am starting a fundraising effort to pay for next summer and our winter cleanups. The Mon Valley Green Space Coalition is the 501c3 non-profit that takes care of all donations and funds for our river effort. Further funding from the City of Morgantown is doubtful, so our plans to expand and do more river miles of cleanup are in jeopardy. Help if you can. Next month I plan to organize people around the Evertteville area, above Hildebrand Lock and Dam, to do some cleanups along the creeks leading to the Mon - before the spring rains washes litter down.

Hope this works!

Ice on the river

There has been a coat of snow on the river, making it white. The snow, of course, is resting on a thin layer of ice that has formed during the past couple weeks. It's been pretty cold.

But nothing like I remember from my days with Ohio Barge Line and Midwest Towing. I guess the coldest place I've ever been is up on the Illinois River on the Midwest boats. But when it comes to ice, I recall going down the Ohio on one of the OBL boats - Steel Something, I don't recall which - and pushing through thick ice.

One time we were down around Kenova, Ky, where there is a "boat store." This is a place where towboats can get fuel and water, gorceries and other things needed. We were southbound for New Orleans and the store boat couldn't come out to us because the ice was too thick. So our captain told us to simply disconnect the towboat from our tow of barges and he ran the boat over to the shore to pick up our supplies and to fuel. He left the barges right out in the river! The ice was so thick they only moved a few yards while we left them.

On the towboats the ice made a lot of noise rubbing along the sides and bottom of the boat as we pushed through. It is always pretty noisey on a towboat, with the huge engines running. But the ice was different and made it hard to sleep. Also, while I'm on the subject of ice on the river: it sure was hard putting barges together when there was ice in between them. We had to take long poles and push out the individual chuncks of ice so that we could wire the barges into a tow. All this was done in pretty cold conditions.

Can't say as I miss that.

Thought for the day

I have an idea. I believe the river from the WVU Arboretum to the Morgantown Lock and Dam should be designated a "no-wake" water recreational area.

Reasoning: This past weekend there were paddle boats out all over the place. Also, one day last week I saw three swimmers out in the channel. Boats that come flying around the bend below the Westover Bridge may not be able to see these other boats and swimmers, and I can see an accident in the making.

Also, I'm really encouraged to see all this activity, and I think the City of Morgantown would be well advised to create such a recreational zone, not only to save lives and avoid accidents, but also to designate the river as - to use Joe Manchin's term: Open for Business. Or rather Open for Recreation. And with a no-wake area, the recreation would be swimming and paddle boat friendly from the very beginning.

That's my thought for the day.

And here are some photos from last Saturday: Top- Swimmers near the Morgantown marina. These people would be hard to see, especially with the sun in the eyes and going flat out, the way some boats do.

Middle-Maureen holds the lock like as we return downriver with our catch. Second Middle
We got six tires. We're trying to find a way to haul them without putting them up on the deck, which can be a physically demanding endeavor, especially for old people. Bottom-By now, we've nearly removed all the litter from the west bank of the river above the Morgantown Lock and Dam. This is the pile at Walnut Street where Mr. Jim Luzater of the Mon. County Solid Waste Authority and his crew will pick up the next day.

Pretty, not so pretty

Whenever I talk about the river to people, I try to give equal parts of positive and negative. If I'm complaining about litter and talking about clean-ups, I also try to emphasize the beauty and wonder of the river and the environment in and around it, and the people I get to meet out there.

Last Sunday we had an lovely day, cool and clear, for August, which around here is known for being pretty hot and humid.

Photo above: The gates close behind us as we lock up river, leaving the Morgantown harbor to clean up litter above the dam.

So, that's the theme here. Beauty and the beast. Beauty first. I don't understand some people who run up and down the river at full throttle, causing a big wake and lots of noise. Especially those on jet-skis. I guess if I were young that's what I'd do, but I'd miss a lot. Like the flowers. Always in the spring and summer there are flowers and trees blooming on the river banks.

Photos right and below: I don't know what these are called. They are all over the banks during August.










I wish I knew more flower names. I spend way too much time playing the banjo, I guess, or I'd learn something useful.

In the spring, the black locust blooms, white flowers like bunches of albino grapes cascading from the early spring yellow green leaves and scenting the air with perfume.

I wanted to get a photo of a bright red flower that's blooming now -- a tiny thing I've heard called Indian's paintbrush. I'll try again next weekend.

So, that's the beauty. Here's the beast: Well, this pretty little pink flamingo (below) is nice. It was in the litter we found along the west bank just above the lock.

This is all material that was caught by the Morgantown dam, then floated upriver, ending up in a pile along the shore.I'm happy to say we've very nearly eliminated most of it in this particular location.

It's hard work and pretty boring, but we love the "before and after" effect. Maureen and I were pretty tired when we finished this area, having moved 17 bags of litter, picking up each bottle, can, cigarette lighter, cup, ball individually. And DEP bags are very large. So, it's gone now and the osprey flying overhead says, "Hey, down there, thanks a lot: I live here and it looks so much better now." Also, if you go down to the river in the Morgantown area much, you'll notice it's pretty litter free. Well there's a resaon for that. I don't think you'll find it to be so in many other areas.

One other thing: Please join the Facebook cause.

Photo is of what's left of an albatross chick with bottle caps and cigarette lighter in its digestive system. This is part of the reason we pick up litter from the river. It's a global issue, not just local.

We had a great day on the River yesterday, Saturday, 8-22-09. It was a special trip because we had on board the Monongahela Monitor Mr. Alex Lang, a new reporter for The Dominion Post, our local newspaper. He was interested in doing an article about our river cleanups and was new to the Monongahela River. He's also new to Morgantown, having recently received a master's degree in journalism at Columbia University.

We departed our marina dock just as the Arkwright, a boat owned by Consol, was coming out of the lock northbound with loads of limestone from the Greer dock just above the dam. As she steered out, we headed in, chatting up Mr. Lang about the river and our litter project. Naturally, he got an earful. (Photo courtesy Consol Energy).

We found, as we knew we would, a mother lode of litter along the west bank above the dam, the most high-tech we've come across: among the bottles and cans and Styrofoam was an old computer monitor (circa 1998) clearly marked WVU Hospitals.

We also got a bumper from a red Pontiac. So, if you've lost one up river, let me know.

But the great part was seeing the Osprey! Maureen and I were down in the river among the litter. Alex was on the boat pulling in our full bags, and right over our heads went this huge bird with a pretty good sized fish in its talons.

Later, we took Alex upriver to see some of the sights (a couple having lunch on the deck of a barge near the Morgantown Ordnance Works, a flock of turkeys in the field, the calm river reflecting the height of summer color on its placid surface) and yet another osprey gave us a great show, diving and flying around our boat. He took a close look at us, and I believe thought, "Hey, people, thanks for getting that stuff off the river." He might have.

Anyway, it was a perfect outing and the article should be in the paper on Sunday, 8-29-09. (update: it's now scheduled for September 27.)

A thought: the Morgantown Ordnance Works should be a preserved historical site. It was one of three in the US under very heavy security, developing heavy water for the first atomic bomb. I took some people out for a trip on the river and one of the passengers was amazed we had one of these. He had just been in Norway, and the Nazi heavy water plant is a tourist attraction there.

Birds to see

I love to watch, and often hear before I watch, the belted kingfisher. On the river, if you are in a kayak or other quiet vessel, you can hear this bird, which, it seems to me, must chatter as it flies. The bird perches on the limbs, overhanging the water, and watches for a form down below; watches, and waits, and dives for a meal.

Also seen often is the wonderfully large blue heron, who drags his feet behind him as he flies. Once, while kayaking near Round Bottom (mile 106-107) at night, I came upon a heron but didn't know it. With a loud crow-like call, the great bird flew off of the tree branch over my head.

Scared the heck out of me. Funny how fear puts an indelible impression on our pasts. Reminds me of the time I came across a man, his wife and son in a small boat near Uffington (mile 105). This is just a couple miles below Hildebrand Lock and Dam.

I was swimming across the river and noticed that the people were getting out of the boat, way out in the river. I mean it looked like they were doing an abandon ship. So I took The Monitor across and sure enough, their boat was sinking. The wife, sitting like nothing was wrong while the water rose around her pudgy ankles, was saying some rather unkind things about her husband, the son was looking as if he'd like to see both parents drown, and the husband was, in chest deep water, trying to push the boat up on the bar that is right off of Booths Creek. I hooked up with them, got in the water, and we managed to find the leak. The man looked to me like he was going to need cardiac care right away....

Well, turns out this was the guy's birthday present and its maiden voyage under his command, and, well, he didn't know about the drain plug in the bottom that ought to be plugged up before being launched....

So, we stuck something in the hole, the man bailed, while the wife kept up the disparaging remarks and the son looked on in despair. We got her to float pretty well and I towed the wreck and her near castaways to the boat ramp. But back to the issue of fear. I told them - for as their savior I was in a position to give advice, that they should be happy. "Years from now, you'll remember this outing," I preached. "Had nothing happened, you'd a had a nice boat trip, but nowhere near so precious a memory as this event has been."

I think they thought I was a jerk, but I believe in looking on the bright side. Might as well, the other side is pretty grim.

Well, I'd meant to talk about the little green heron some, but that fear story rolled out, and I'm a little pressed for time right now. I'll come back to that one. By the way, the blue heron isn't blue and the green heron isn't green.

On Saturday I met Vernon Lloyd down at the river. I was on the Monongahela Monitor, coming across from the west side to clean litter off the east bank below the new hotel and conference center, and I saw this guy on the bank. In retrospect it's interesting that I thought he might be a drunk.

You see those sorts along the river. But Vernon had a pail and something else in his hand and I determined he was fishing. From about half way across the river I thought he looked like Ernest Hemingway.

I ran the Monitor up onto the bank and hopped ashore and started picking up litter and asked him if he was getting bait. He had a net he was throwing out, and the answer was obvious, but I just wanted to start a conversation.

He said he was catching shad for bait, little fish swimming in his pail, beautiful tiny flecks of silver.

He thanked me for cleaning up the river and said he could remember the Mon from 40 years ago. He said it used to be orange. "People just don't know how much it has changed, " he commented. Then he told me about his life and how he'd just missed Vietnam. He had enlisted after not-so-good grades in agriculture at WVU and his enlistment was up just before the US jumped into the quagmire of Southeast Asia. But he found his own quagmire: alcohol.

He hit the bottle pretty hard and lost everything he owned, including a house in Morgantown. "I had to get help - I had to get out of that!" Seems he found the Lord and AA. But, I thought he was, perhaps, a drunk.

From a distance.

But then I saw he had a pail and a net for fishing on the Mon River. Drunks don't fish, I've noticed.

The MedExpress Triathlon Convinced Me

I decided to start this blog because of the unusual sight of hundreds of humans, clad in black wet suits and white swim caps, leaping from the Morgantown Marina dock into the Mon river Sunday morning just after sunup.

Reminded me of the penguins standing in a row and throwing themselves into the sea. The humans were lined up on the dock in what must have been 4-5 groups of 100 swimmers. Then the signal would sound and off they would go - just like penguins! A group of about 10, then another, then another.

It was a really neat sight. I had camped on my pontoon boat, The Monongahela Monitor, on the west side of the river, anchored near the shore right by Old Lock # 10. I watched the sun rise over Morgantown, made some coffee, had breakfast and then watched the penguins (swimmers). Pretty soon there were hundreds of arm failing in the water and legs kicking up water. You could hear the splashes.

You have to understand, now, that this is a most odd and, to my mind, auspicious sight. People don't generally swim in the Mon because they think it's polluted.

This triathlon may be one of the best ways of changing the backward opinion of the Mon River. But we need more people to come out on these hot days and take a swim. I've been thinking about starting the Mon Organization for River Fun and Swimming, or MORFS. What do you think? (Photos by Bob Gay of The Dominion Post).

So this blog will be about what I see on or around the Mon River. Sometimes I just don't think people see what I see, and I'd like to share this....