49: Unpredictable

Sandy Island Sanctuary, Foley, Missouri

F O L E Y,  M O

At the intersection of the Great River Road and Route 54, I spot Atlas Café.  An ATM by the front door means cash-only. And cash-only means uniqueness, so I swing in on a whim.  The Atlas Café is neatly arranged, clean, and with throwback posters on the wall.  Nearly everyone is wearing a camo or John Deere hat.  It’s full of customers and a lone, skinny, fake-blonde waitress is scrambling to keep us all content.  She could use some help but gets an A for effort.  Shouldn’t all these customers be in church on a Sunday morning? 

What’s also unique is that the Atlas Café is starkly located on the edge of the Mississippi River floodplain.  On one side of the road is undisturbed forest.  But across the road begins five miles of cleared, glass-flat bottomlands all the way to the river’s edge – prime land farmed by many of the people I’m eating with. 

After finishing an overly-starchy breakfast and dropping a 50% tip, I cross the river into Louisiana.  Louisiana, Missouri that is.  It’s a shitty little river town still recovering from the extreme rains that have hit this area.  Some roads are cordoned off and under water including a stretch of route I’m following to the Sandy Island Bald Eagle Sanctuary in Winfield.  Thankfully, GPS is adept at finding alternatives. 

As I head along the Great River Road south of Louisiana, most of the thin access roads heading east toward the Mississippi River’s edge are closed – impassable due to flooding.  I’m beginning to think the access road I’ll need toward Winfield will also be closed.  That would hurt.  I’ve come a long way to see bald eagles, and for the road to be flooded would be greatly disappointing.  As more and more closed road signs appear, uncertainty takes over. 

Adding to the doubt is this: I’m not even sure the Sandy Island Bald Eagle Sanctuary even exists.  A few months ago while planning this trip I found a link on The Nature Conservancy (TNC) website describing the property.  It even included maps of which I burned its location into my memory.  But just a week ago, when I was fine-tuning plans, that link no longer existed.  Where’d it go?  And finding anything at all online about the Sandy Island Bald Eagle Sanctuary was suddenly needle-in-the-haystackish.  Did I only dream about the existence of this sanctuary? 

Doubt-riddled, I head onward.  And as I turn toward Winfield there are no barricades or warning signs.  Luckily, the road is open - a straight shot to the Mississippi River.

Immediately the views become even more expansive.  I can feel the Mississippi River in the distance.  It’s a powerful and iconic waterway – as influential in the evolution of America as any other river.  I park at the Winfield Lock and Dam and start following instincts.  There are no signs whatsoever regarding any type of eagle sanctuary.  No trails.  No kiosks.  No TNC-branded oak leaves in sight.  But there is an overgrown levee that seems to lead in the direction of a riverside patch of forest south of the dam.  I’m fairly certain this is what I’ve come to see.

Walking atop a levee is a new experience.  Levees are everywhere in this part of the country – mounds of dirt stacked up in feeble attempts at controlling nature.  In spots on this trip, I’ve seen the failures: soaked farm fields on the other side of levees; good crops ruined. 

As I walk southward, the noises increase.  A huge throng of European Starling have overtaken what I presume is the sanctuary. When I reach its midpoint, the noise is nearly deafening.  Thousands of grackle are zipping about and perched in every tree in sight.  Their habit of feeding in large flocks is a known nuisance in this part of the country and can cause considerable damage to agricultural crops.  I can’t recall ever being surrounded by so many birds.  It’s Hitchcocky.  I surmise the chances of seeing balds has plummeted.  Surely they find this temporary throng to be an annoyance not worth fighting.  It’s likely the majestic balds have found a more peaceful place to spend their Sunday morning.  Unfortunately, I’ll miss seeing eagles, but the compromise of witnessing a grackle gaggle from atop a levee is a nice consolation. 

I wander down to the south end of the sanctuary where the noises die down.  Hope increases slightly that perhaps a bald eagle can find sanctity at this end of the more-quiet sanctuary.  But I find none.  However, I do find the flooded terminal of the Winfield Ferry.  Ferrying across the Mississippi would have been a classic American experience; Mother Nature though has squelched that option.  She’s also unfortunately shooed away the namesakes of this cool property.  She’s an unpredictable mother. 

Hours later, when I arrive in St Louis I turn to a website used in my profession.  It’s a conglomeration that brings together tax assessment data for every property in the country.  I use it to allay the doubt.  On a tax map of Lincoln County Missouri there’s a five acre tract of land just south of the Winfield Dam deeded to The Nature Conservancy.   My instincts and the memories gathered from the now non-existent web link were right.  I did, in fact, find the Sandy Island Bald Eagle Sanctuary.  Though it’s the smallest and most-elusive of TNC preserves I’ve visited, it packed a loud and unpredictable punch.

LEARN MORE ABOUT TNC’S WORK AT SANDY ISLAND HERE.