Voyageurs

"Who could have dreamed someone a century or two hence would plant a few of their flowers of gold somewhere along the route in the far interior? Now when the iris blooms it will serve as a living symbol of an era when songs of the voyageurs floated among the islands, when feats of daring were commonplace along the wilderness roads they traveled."
                –Sigurd Olson, from Listening Point

Our start for the La Crosse River wasn't all that early in the morning, but we found out later it was the right time to view the constant swirl of late spring wildlife along the banks.  We were reminded once again on our trip that the La Crosse River might very well be the most undervalued wild resource in the area; following its path, even with the imagination, from the falls at Lake Neshonoc, down through the meandering golden green pastures of West Salem, through Veteran's Memorial, past Valley View Mall, and through the valley backwaters is so much

more enjoyable than driving the same route...it's a slight surprise that more La Crossites don't give up the steering wheel for the Voyageur's paddle altogether.  La Crosse IS in among these banks – the thirty some giant turtles we saw sunning on the bobbing logs, the solo heron woken by our faint clap of the paddle against the down flowing current, geese, mallards, a beaver, a deer's head popping up out of a safe bed at the jump of a bass who completely cleared the water to grasp the fallen Mayfly.  At one point, nearing

the Myrick Park biking trail overpass, we could see in one panoramic view a bald eagle high above gliding like falling paper, two pelicans airplaning just above our heads, and a lost gosling trying to find its way up the bank seeking the sound of parents above.  Every turn, every eddy, every snap of the oak limb, some wild creature presented itself.

As you reach the tail end of the La Crosse River, you are indeed at the very point where "three rivers meet."  To the north the Black chugs into the Mississippi, which is coming right at you at 12 o'clock – the La Crosse Queen rolling its red paddle straight ahead.  We tugged at our own paddles a little more firmly and crossed the great blue channel to Pettibone, the precise birthplace (first known settler shelter), of La Crosse and sunned like blue turtles.

Cass Bridge above on the way to Pettibone Park