Discovering the River Magic
Exploring the boundary between ice and water (photo by Ben Fassnacht)
By Deb Fassnacht. This article originally appeared in the Missoula Current. Republished with permission.
It was the second week of January 2021, a sunny day with a winter temperature hovering at 29 degrees. One of those crisp, cold winter days expected in January here in Missoula. No new snow. I pondered the fate of our rivers next summer if weather patterns continue with this unseasonably dry and warm January.
The snowpack in the mountains that feeds our rivers and creeks during the hot summer months is low. A recent ski day at Snowbowl showed rocks and small trees still bare. And rivers and streams need that snow to melt into cold water for the fish and wildlife to thrive. It is those cold rivers for fishing, floating, and swimming that we love. These rare gems of three rivers in our valley – the Bitterroot, the Clark Fork, and The Blackfoot – bring the tourists in droves to our mountain town each spring and summer, driving a recreation economy anchored to our cold, clear rivers and creeks.
On that January day, I was headed to meet my son, Ben, and my grandchildren, Hana and Anders, at the Clark Fork River just below Bernice’s Bakery and west along the Riverfront Trail. They wanted to try the family science project that Watershed Education Network (WEN) is piloting this winter as an option for getting kids of all ages out exploring river and creek spots.
The tailgate of the pickup was down as I pulled in, Ben filling out the Family Science paperwork and the kids were digging boots into pockets of ice and snow – masked and bundled up for the day. It is a rare treat to join my son and grandchildren on the river’s edge. It seems like only a few years ago I was hauling Ben and his brother, Max, to the river for our field excursions.
I heard a shout, “Hi Grandma!” and we were off to check out the frozen channel along the Riverfront Trail. Winding between the willows and making our way down a steep bank – there was the gray-blue frozen channel, with a jumble of logs and brush on the other side from floods in years past. “Wow,” both Hana and Anders said together. They each reached for a rock to throw out onto the ice. Hana’s rock made a rhythmic thump-thump over the ice… and she whispered, “That sounded like a heartbeat.” Anders found a heart-shaped rock to save for his Mom.
We wandered down to where the channel along the Riverfront Trail flows back into the Clark Fork – complete with a sandy beach loaded with slabs of ice from freezing then thawing, which pushed the big hunks of ice along the shore. The ice jam near shore was a kid-exploring paradise – logs over shallow water with icy layers and edges, holes in big ice slabs to put curious noses in, crystalline ice designs with different shapes and architecture from ice needles stacked on top of each other to lacy ice collars on boulders strewn in the shallows. Mallards made their living dipping for algae and bugs just off one of the big ice slabs so Hana and Anders could get a close view of the deep green mallard head staying dry after he dove for his food.
After some serious ice exploring, Ben pointed up to the sky. We all looked up just in time to see the great blue heron flying over the river, circling above the cottonwoods and landing somewhere on the island across from where we stood. It was a magical sight. That heron sighting started the list of our observations at the river.
We dug into the Family Science kit and Hana and Anders wanted to use the magnifying lenses to look up close at the ice up. Hana spied the thermometer and wanted take the water temperature in three different spots, and ice formed around the bright yellow string when we left it in a while along ice forming near slowly moving water.
As I wandered away, Ben was sharing ideas for artwork and journaling they could do when they got back home for hot chocolate. I worked my way over the logs piled high, watching for the ice and water and felt so very lucky to take in a beautiful afternoon on rivers’ edge, exploring with my family. As I wandered back I caught the sight of their jackets through the brush on the island – exploring a new spot and heard Anders’ eager voice, “Wow, look at that”! I learned later they found freshly chewed branches with the telltale signs of beaver teeth.
Rivers are life! It is truly a gift to experience this river Magic, especially with the curiosity and sense of adventure that children bring. Warmer temperatures and dry conditions leave the fate of the river uncertain, but fostering our connection with the land through joyful experiences (such as the one my family shared at the river) will hopefully spark a desire to preserve this river Magic for generations to come.
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Deb Fassnacht is the Executive Director of Watershed Education Network. Deb is one of the founders of the organization, along with Wendy Berthold and Eric Ringelberg. What began as a volunteer stream monitoring effort in 1996 based in Deb’s home, has grown into a successful non-profit organization focusing on watersheds, groundwater, and wetlands education. When not at the river or neighborhood creek, Deb enjoys hiking, skiing, and sailing on Flathead Lake with her husband, Henry, family, and friends.
