Day 56 Mississippi River - Flying Fish & Old Time Trappers
Camping on the Eastern shore, a crisp shade covered camp in the morning. Despite the chill I took time to make coffee and do a bit of reading from the new book gifted to me by Jane in Quincy, IL, Mark Twains "Life on the Mississippi".
I broke camp and hit the water, ready to make my way into the sunshine that had taunted me while reading in the shade.
A beautiful, cloudless day on the water warranted a few layers of sunscreen throughout the afternoon.
Sometime around 5pm I spotted a large sandbar in the distance- the perfect spot to stop and set up shop for the night. As I pulled up to the edge, a silver, flat bottom boat came flying to the inside portion of the sandbar, which was shaped like a horseshoe. Three fellas in waiters began running the course of the sandbar, from one point of the horseshoe to the other, dropping a large net. As they worked, hundreds if not thousands of fish began jumping out of the water, covering the inside of the bay with a wall of flying fish.
I hopped out of the boat and walked over towards the gentleman, awestruck by the sheer numbers of flying fish, and interested in what the crew was doing. It was a sight I had never seen before, like something straight out of the TV show "Planet Earth". After standing and watching for a bit, the fellas came over to talk. Turns out, the boys were a group of commercial fisherman, working the Mississippi for Asian Carp. At 11 cents a pound, they would sell their take to a local market, which in turn would likely use the fish to make cat food (or so they thought).
The way these fish jumped, flung and flew out of the water blew my mind. The day before I had my first encounter with an Asian Carp, as it came out of nowhere and torpedoed into the side of my canoe, startling me and causing a cascade of instinctual swear words.
After the fellas had their net in place, two of them set up tents with plans of camping for the evening next to their catch, and joining me in the process. In the morning they would haul the net in and finish the work at hand.
As the sun set we made a fire and I picked their brains about commercial fishing the Miss. Both fellas were over 50 and had spent most of their lives trapping and fishing for a living. For the past 8 years they had chased Asian Carp. Before that they spent a lifetime trapping turtles (before the DNR shut it down) and just about anything else a guy could sell to market.
Around the light of a campfire the two told stories of an old trappers life, filled with good times and bad, bar fights and women, and a life spent on the water and in the woods.
For much of my life I have romanticize the trappers of old. Traveling the rivers and waterways of the North Country by canoe before this land was settled, selling their tans and hides to the Hudson Bay Company, living a life of solitude in the wild. Now, in 2017, here I was, circled around a campfire on the banks of the Mississippi River sharing stories and laughs with two modern day trappers.
I understand how some people may think it's vile, but personally, I have great respect for folk who make their living off the land. It's a tough way to feed your family, but when it's in your blood their ain't much you can do about it.
After more stories and hopeful thinking about tomorrow's catch (they hoped to haul in around 30,000 pounds of Asian Carp, which would mean 2 days worth of trips filling the small John boat to the brims with fish, hauling it to market and coming back to fill it up again) we called it a night, each of us commenting on the beauty of the clear night sky chalk full of stars and satellites.
Once you take the plunge into adventure, you never know where it will take you or the folks you'll meet along the way.