Yankton, S.D. Clean-up - May 19, 2007

Little Hands in the Sand
text and photos by Ruthie Moccia

Destination Yankton, S.D. The 8 hour drive all day Friday in our van was reminiscent of a comedy club. Jokemeisters Karpowicz, Barrow, and Nigh continued with hilarity throughout the weekend at jam sessions around the bonfire. Add a couple of drums, guitars, a washboard, and other impromptu instruments (wire whisk brushing across the plastic feathers of our heron mascot) and you get some really cool sounds. Original music and lyrics were inspired by the Gilligan’s Island theme song audibly entwined with House of the Rising Sun punctuated by the voice of James Brown commenting effusively on strengths and weaknesses of the amazing riverbed mussel.

Racin’ Dave had staked out our campsite extraordinaire, a sandy island across the river from Benedictine steeple Caroline bells. Not a seasoned camper, I was in ecstasy to have sand instead of mud between my toes, witness the clarity and “swimability” of the Missouri River at Yankton, dine on exquisite food, and sense an atmosphere of safety and tolerance from much more experienced companions.

And that was just getting and being there.

Saturday morning we filtered through the Yankton volunteers over coffee and donuts introducing ourselves (for the record, Yanktonians drink their coffee black not even bothering to set out cream and sugar), happy to learn Yanktonians were genuinely grateful we had come to help with the cleanup. We arranged ourselves 2 to a boat in order to provide as much individual support as possible.

Karpowicz and I sat in our boat watching Yankton volunteers file by on the dock as a thirty-something dad approached toting 3 adorable sons. “We want you in our boat!” I hollered, and they complied. Just a few minutes earlier I had taken photos of them traipsing across the green in their newly acquired ankle length tees. I had become enchanted with the 3 of them.

But ultimately my heart was whisked away by the oldest most serious of the boys, 9 year old Jordan, who did not stop digging until he unearthed an ancient iron tractor wheel from the sand. Who knew how much time elapsed while he and I dug with sticks and rocks? We made timid conversation. We talked a little about the things we believed, about the things we had experienced, and even some about the river.

We had dug past the water table when a crewmate finally returned with a real shovel capable of removing real loads of sand. Finally, we were able to comprehend the wheel. It was 4 feet in diameter with double rows of thick decaying spokes, at least a foot wide where the rubber would have met the road. It took a line of guys on a rope to get that sucker out of it’s sandy hole and another couple of guys to roll it along the water’s edge into our boat.



Jordan posed in front of his find as we motored to the dock. It took 3 inmates to pick it up and load it into a trash truck.

I’m soon sending Jordan a certificate with blue ribbon attached. I’ll call it the “persistence” award. The certificate will say, “May all you have patience for never disappoint you.”

Yankton, S.D. Clean-up - May 19, 2007

Kissing the Dam
by Vicki Richmond
photos by Vicki Richmond, Jen Courtney, Melanie Cheney and Wayne Werkmeister

The Gavin’s Point dam is a strangely pink structure that screams steel and power. On one side is Lewis and Clark Lake, the other frames the beginning of the 811 miles to St. Louis and the Mississippi. It is the last dam to harness the power of the Missouri River and pass it along to the City of Yankton, SD, and other towns hungry for electricity. The dam itself delineates one of the most untouched stretches of the Big Muddy. One side of the river is South Dakota, the other Nebraska.

The “Relief”, as the Yankton locals called us, arrived on a clear Thursday evening, camping in a beautiful hardwood grove overlooking the first mile of the unchannelized Missouri. This campground is maintained by the Army Corps of Engineers and is used for those giving service hours to the Park. Camp was hastily thrown together as we prepared to dine at Murdo’s, a bar and grill on the Nebraska side that sits overlooking the river. We explored the nearest cove on the lake and looked up at the dam from the boatramp.

In the spillway below the dam, huge paddlefish patrol the waters, becoming dolphins in the moonlight. The character of the river is different. This is the river we Missourians have heard fearful stories of. Sandbars and snags show where we see only water. We entered the braided channel carefully, Captains Racin’ Dave and Steve piloting us carefully around trees and in the shallow water.



I can hear the voice of River Relief icon Charlotte Overby in my head “It’s not appropriate to punish ourselves for having fun at work!” And work it would be. Two days of trash hauling.

Our task Friday was a noble one. We put our new, yet unnamed, plate boat 490 and the trusty Saskia in the water and boated down to the Yankton ramp. Docks and tanks had littered a privately owned stretch of the river since the 97 flood. The private landowners, City of Yankton staff and the Yankton Trust Unit of the SD Department of Corrections service workers had spent a week cutting and stacking the metal and Styrofoam to be accessible by our boats. Our job was clear. Get those piles.

It is said that many hands make light work. Waiting crews loaded the metal and styrofoam into from the National Parks Service and Missouri River Relief boats and an incredible seven and a half tons later, our crews headed back upstream for a sandbar lunch. A truly great effort was made simple by the hard work of smart planners who had volunteers, trucks and heavy equipment ready to work.

One trash haul down. One trash hauling day to go.

Saturday our two boats arrived at the Yankton ramp with fourteen hard core River Relief Crew. We arrived to a well-oiled sign-in machine. Paul Hedren who supervises the National Parks Service efforts along the National Recreational River gave a brief talk, the Yankton County Emergency Management staff presented as on-site safety message and Mayor Curt Bernard of Yankton SD thanked volunteers.

Two hundred fifty volunteers were fueled with donuts, outfitted in lifejackets and loaded in to 20 boats. The boats scattered volunteers along 12 miles of the river. Our boats headed to the dam, the farthest site possible.



Steve carefully piloted the Saskia upriver, with a crew of girls from Vermillion High School. Racin Dave, following tradition, kissed the dam with the bow of our boat as we marveled at the structure above us. We donned gloves and headed to the shoreline to pick up the trash accumulated along the rip rapped banks.


After a good cleaning of the rip rap below the dam with the help of the fisherman, who were thrilled with our efforts, our crew began a slow trip back down river, scanning the banks for trash more to our liking- the things that are heavy and bulky. An appliance dump caught Racin Dave’s eye. After a quick survey, we pulled what we could and noted that the site requires some different equipment. Cutting torches will be needed to clear this area of trash. We again boarded the boats.

Sharp eyes quickly spotted a tractor tire. Easy work for our motivated students. The tire was efficiently loaded into the Saskia and tire thrones constructed for comfortable seating. We continued to scan the banks, with the new eyes of the students on the lookout for more trash.


A shout. “Tire on the high bank!” Ben leapt from the boat to scramble up the bank. More experienced trash getters shared knowing looks. One tire sitting like that means only one thing. A tire dump.

Sure enough, Ben glanced from the bank to our boat. “Lots of tires here. Maybe 20, 30, 40…”. We smiled. This is what River Relievers love. Getting a big haul. Doing some real good.

We set ourselves in a line, passing tires hand to hand, loading the boat as the National Parks Service headed across the river in our direction. “The trucks are getting ready to go, you guys are the last in” Tyler called. As he pulled closer and was able to see the contents of our boat his eyes widened. We were simply “full up” with tires and trash. We loaded another 20 tires into his boat and headed slowly back downstream to the ramp, where loaders awaited our booty for the day.



As our two (last in) boats approached the ramp we heard gasps from those on shore. The adrenaline rush of a 50-tire load soon eclipsed the lagging energy of the ramp crew. The Saskia was quickly unloaded as the stories of the day were called out across the ramp. Our fifty tire load was the perfect ending to a perfect clean up.

May 13 - Rolling with the flooded river

A Surprising yet relaxing spring weekend in the Heartland
by Melanie Cheney
photos by Melanie Cheney

Well, this weekend we were supposed to be helping 300 volunteers clean-up on the banks of the Missouri River near St. Charles, MO. However, that river had plans of her own, and she sent us packing for home.

After spending the first night on Pelican Island checking the boats every hour because the water was receding down the sandbar at a rate of a foot every hour, we found out she was going into major flood stage back at home in CoMo and soon to follow in St. Charles. After our Birds, Bugs and Botany field trip on Monday, we proceeded to pack up that evening and leave at dawn the following day.

It took us half the day to load up and drive back to Columbia only to unload and try to help the local communities with our baots and vans. We took off to Rocheport where they had set up a major sandbagging operation. WE had fun, although I was sick from exhaustion by the time I finally made it home.


What I really want to write about is what an amazing weekend we just had because of our beloved raging river. First of all, she didn't crest as high as expected...saving our river clubhouse (Club Medfly) and our hangout at Cooper's Landing. Secondly, I got to relax all weekend with no obligations. We were free to visit with good friends, eat good food and play in the beautiful spring outdoors.

My new love and I got to camp out underneath the cool starlit sky for two nights, sleeping in new places, walking in new woods, checking out the woodland ferns and wildflowers, stopping at the "Moon Rocks" in the creek, going for a morning swim amonst the clear trickling waterfalls.

We then went for a jaunt over to Strawberry Hill nursery, where my sweetie took me plant shopping and then home to beautify the gardens. We soaked up some sunshine while planting mint, cleomes and impatients, taking shady hammock breaks before finishing up to pack a cooler and head down to the Big Muddy once again.

Anthony (Boudreaux) met us on the flooded River Road with a canoe and guided us through the flooded bottomlands and creeks to Coop's. To our surprise, music was playing and people were hanging out, wading around in their mud boots, relaxing on docks tied up in the flooded parking lot.



Dinner had just been cooked and we enjoyed the beautiful warm sunset amongst great company. Naked Dave and Dyno were perched in the bow of Barb and Roger's houseboat (sitting on it's trailer with water all around) and they serenaded us with outrageous acoustic jams. Soon, the barred owls started their wild hooting and proceeded to make "owl love" all night long. It was amazing. By then, Anthony had rigged his canoe with a tiki torch and took us on an evening canoe ride in the backwaters. Only the sounds of owls, frogs and the occasional dip of the paddle filled the otherwise silent night.

We paddled back to our clubhouse for the night, making a bed on the back deck, right over the surging waters of the flooded river. Somehow, we managed to sleep dry and peacefully. What an amazing and ambitious adventure, yet such a relaxing and wonderful weekend.

My love and respect for the river has continued to grow, along with my great gratitude for all she gives.