River Story: Hidden Magic
I have a deep connection to a set of features which were once accessible near the spot where Minnehaha Creek enters the Mississippi. Getting there was part of the connection. It was an adventure, as a child, to walk down the endless flights of steps from the main part of Minnehaha Park to the creek below the falls, and then to walk along the creek for nearly a mile. It seemed to take a very long time, but there were endlessly fascinating places along the way.
Flowing water under arched stone bridges, outcrops of limestone and softer sandstone, dense woodland vegetation, the Minnesota Veterans Home Bridge impossibly high above our heads, and finally, the mouth of the creek.
It wasn't the creek mouth or the river itself which held my attention. The sandy river shore was dotted with fragments of limestone, any one of which could possibly display the fossil remnant of long-vanished life. I remember looking for fossils on every visit, but not finding any, until one day I picked up a rock and found the imprint of a tiny, ridged clamshell. It was far from perfect, but it was my first fossil ever.
There were other fascinating features a few hundred feet upstream. The Mississippi at this point is in a cliff-walled gorge, and I could walk along the river shore to a spot at the foot of the cliff below the Veterans Home. The lower part of the cliff was soft sandstone, soft enough to carve easily with a fragment of limestone. Generations of children had done just that, carving handholds and footholds to ascend a short, near-vertical bit of cliff in order to reach a sort of plateau just above.
The plateau had knobs and dips and a variety of angles of slope. It made the most amazing playground ever. I could climb, slide, and leap my way around it for hours. It was a “happy place”, but also mysterious.
The greatest mysteries in this playground were at the foot of the sandstone outcrop. Set into an alcove in the vertical face of the cliff, there was a massive slab of concrete, forming a door which couldn't be opened. It had no hinges and had been anchored to the rock all the way around the top and sides. A small gap at the bottom allowed a hefty trickle of water to flow from behind the door and down the sandy shoreline to join with the river. A porthole-sized opening in the upper half of the door, too high for me to look through, and barred with time-worn iron rods, made the door even more mysterious.
Clearly, this door was intended to prevent anyone from exploring what was behind it. But it was anchored in sandstone that was soft enough to carve, so of course, kids had carved a gap at the side of the door which was big enough to squeeze through. Beyond the door, a tunnel ran straight back into the cliff, leading who knows where. I never had a flashlight with me on family visits to this spot, so I only dared go in as far as I could see my way with the light from the barred porthole.
Older kids said that the tunnel went on and on, and I regret that I never explored it myself.
One more mystery lay between the foot of the cliff and the edge of the Mississippi. At one spot on the sandy slope down to the river, clear water bubbled up out of the sand and formed its own miniature river flowing to join the Mississippi. I now suspect that it was a small artesian spring, but for a child my age, it was an impossibly magical mystery. What was even more mysterious was that the flow of water would stop completely for long periods, and then resume. It was always a thrill when it started again, an event worth waiting for.
When I became old enough to bicycle, on my own, the miles separating my home from this amazing spot, I found that it had been destroyed. I found a massive, rough slope of freshly dumped dirt had covered up the cliffs, the tunnel entrance, and the spring.
Though I couldn't ever go back to the spot I remembered, I still experienced it in dreams well into my twenties. And I still have my happy memories.
by Dave Crawford
The River Story Map
Created and coordinated by volunteer extraordinaire Michael Bischoff, the River Story Map kicks off FMR's silver anniversary year with 25+ stories of friendship with and connection to the metro Mississippi. These honest and personal reflections portray the river as a source of intrigue and adventure, a beloved date night venue, and even an unlikely partner in tales of loss and healing. We hope you enjoy them and consider adding your personal story of friendship with the Mississippi River.