Feature Story

Now let’s move on to my perspectives as a river recreationist.

My cousins and I knew of another slough upstream, one that was separated from the river only by a narrow island or a peninsula, depending on the water level. It was accessible by boat from the lower end, if you knew to swing a hard right in the middle of a swift run on the river. We paused there often on our floats from Walker’s Ford (later Garrison’s Campground and Resort) down to Grandpa’s farm. Adapting our slough-angling tactics to the still backwater, we could count on adding a few largemouths, bluegill, and crappie to our stringers.

But was the peninsula/island above the legally-defined high water mark? The slough was connected by water at the lower end and barely separated by silt at the upper end. I wouldn’t have wanted to argue the matter with the adjacent landowner, nor in court.

Just downstream from that slough, the landowner had anchored a small concrete dock at the base of a wooden staircase descending from a cabin high on the hillside. My cousin occasionally used that small slab to take a nap and rest his sore back. I also moored there on my honeymoon float to stop and cook my bride some soup on a Coleman stove, technically our first homecooked meal as a married couple. Again, I wouldn’t have wanted to get in a squabble with the streamside landowner over squatter’s rights, but, fortunately, no one showed up while we were “borrowing” the dock.

Another potential can of worms might involve wet-weather tributaries and spring branches. How is the high-water mark defined in these situations? If MDC-stocked trout were finding a home in the cooler waters of such a spring branch, would fishing for them be open to the public?

In general, floaters have benefited from the high-water mark definition established in Elder vs. Delcour. However, some landowners would like the matter revisited to give them more say in managing the use of gravel bars and other low-lying areas by floaters. The standard preferred by these property owners would move the property rights boundaries to the water’s edge at normal flow, denying floaters access to most gravel bars and the mouths of tributaries and backwater sloughs.

Other potential legislation might force Missouri courts to further define the “navigability” of each Missouri stream. This nightmarish conundrum would surely provide job security for several lawyers for several years.

Perhaps some sort of compromise on the definitions of navigability and high-water marks could be reached to prevent a recurrence of the 2013 gravel bar confrontation. On the other hand, further legislation may simply muddy the waters more.

Legal issues surrounding river rights can better be circumnavigated by persuading both sides to practice ethical behavior. Tolerance on the part of the landowners and civility on the part of the recreationists should be the modus operandi for sharing our streams. For landowners, that means not treating floaters like enemies. For floaters, that means behaving themselves and leaving the rivers and their shorelines in better shape than they find them.

This ethical remedy, involving all the stakeholders, is needed to keep these sticky issues out of the hands of clumsy legislators and unengaged courts. We would all be better served if the ethics discussions are conducted elsewhere—across the counters at raft and canoe outfitters, in conversations across the tables at outdoor trade shows and conservation conventions, and around gravel bar campfires.

Peer pressure can work to keep unruly floaters from annoying landowners. Landowners should let law enforcement handle escalating situations. Common courtesy and common sense should prevail, and we should all remind each other what brings us together—our deep love for our precious streams.

An old saw and the lyrics of a Scottish melody come to mind. “You can’t legislate morality” is the adage. “Oh, ye’ll take the high road, and I’ll take the low road, and I’ll be in Scotland afore ye” comprise the song lyrics. Both seem appropriate as we navigate this river of complex issues together.

What Lives on a Prairie?

If you drive by an original, unplowed prairie in Missouri, depending on the time of year, you might think it is all “just grass and meadowlarks.” Or, if you visit one in July or August, you might think it is all “blazing star and goldenrod.”

The only way to really know what plants and animals are living on a prairie—or any other habitat—is to establish baseline biological data and collect and record comparative data over time, to ensure that the management of a given prairie or other natural community is sustaining or even enhancing biological diversity and ecological integrity.

Biological data collection from lands in conservation ownership can be compiled in a number of ways. The method that will result in the most thorough data compilation is to hire specialists to conduct in-depth plant and animal surveys on newly acquired land, to establish baseline data, and repeat these assessments every few years. (Or, if you are lucky, experienced volunteers may be able to do this work at no cost.)

However, these kinds of comprehensive surveys can be expensive and/or time-consuming. A way to quickly assess the health of a prairie, forest, glade, or other habitat is to carry out Community Health Index (CHI) surveys. CHI surveys are a rapid assessment of the ecological integrity of a site. The Missouri Department of Conservation developed the CHI tool, in partnership with the Mark Twain National Forest, to facilitate more frequent monitoring of natural communities to ensure that their biological integrity is maintained over time. The CHI methodology does require general field biology knowledge and the ability to identify a short list of plants and animals, but exhaustive knowledge of birds, amphibians, plants, or other groups of organisms is not needed.

CFM passed a resolution at its 87th Convention in February 2023 promoting the adoption of CHI, and, depending on the CHI results, implementation of corrective action plans by entities that own and manage publicly accessible original prairies.

Plant and animal data collection helps land managers assess natural community health. A botanical inventory conducted in 2018 at the Missouri Prairie Foundation’s (MPF’s) Penn-Sylvania Prairie in Dade County revealed that the site had broken a world record for plant species diversity on a fine scale. Find plant, pollinator, bird, and other species surveys on MPF prairies at moprairie. org/research.

The national Natural Areas Association published a peerreviewed article on the CHI methodology written by MDC ecologist Mike Leahy in its publication, the Natural Areas Journal, in spring 2022. The CHI methodology developed in Missouri is being adopted by numerous agencies and other entities around the country.

A third way to compile important data about a prairie or other natural community is to enlist citizen scientists to help you. Many conservation sites open to the public, including the Missouri Prairie Foundation, have established Citizen Science projects to which individuals can contribute data using iNaturalist. Reporting birds via eBird is another way citizen scientists can build documented biological data of a site.

Lastly, you and all other Missourians can help support land management that sustains or enhances native biodiversity by letting managers of publicly accessible land know that scientifically based habitat health assessments and species surveys are important to you.

Road trip. We didn’t choose the perfect playlist. Or program the GPS. But we did fuel the car that made you realize there are no wrong turns, only new adventures. When the energy you invest in life meets the energy we fuel it with, amazing journeys happen.