NOT the Pink Moon

Cape Girardeau Mississippi River 08-11-2011While looking for photos to go with the Flood of 1943, I ran across these photos shot on the riverfront August 11, 2011. The moonrise isn’t pink like everybody is posting this week, but the sky certainly was. (You can click on the photos to make them larger.)

Train crews still wave

Broadway and Water Street crossing 08-11-2011This toddler doesn’t quite know what to make of that loud thing going by, even if the crewman is giving him a friendly wave. I miss the old steam engines we had when I was a kid his age.

The shot these the evening the Duncan Kids from Kennett learned the venerable art of rock skipping. And, to show you how things remain the same, here’s a link to rock skippers in 1966.

On the Wrong Side of the Tracks

I made a swing up to Cape Rock to check out the river level and the huge sandbar hugging the Illinois banks. After taking a couple of shots, I pulled into the small park at the bottom of The Rock to get a different angle. You can click on the photos to make them larger.

Tracks were open

The BNSF tracks were clear to the south. As soon as I crossed the main line and siding and looked north, I spotted the sunken barges I posted on October 21.

Where’d that train come from?

I spent about 45 minutes shooting the barges, then turned to see a long freight blocking my path back to the parking lot. This young fisherman was stuck on the wrong side of the tracks, too. Since these cars were parked on the siding, I thought maybe they were making way for a faster freight on the main line. Since most local trains aren’t that long, I decided to start walking south to see if I could get around it.

This one one of those situations where Plans A, B and C all involved swimming: I had the Mississippi River to my east; if the train extended south to Red Star, I was going to run into Sloan Creek; if it went too far north, there was Juden Creek to contend with.

Does this thing have an end?

About a quarter mile down the tracks, I ran into two fishermen walking north. “How far does this thing stretch to the south?” I asked.

“A long way,” one replied.

“Well, the head end of it is out of sight at Cape Rock, so I’m going to keep walking south.”

Way off in the distance, I could hear a train horn. Probably blowing at the crossings in town, I thought. Shouldn’t be too long before it passes, then the train on the siding will pull out, I was hoping. The clouds were building up, the wind was getting stronger and all I was wearing was a light long-sleeve shirt covered with a wool vest I had picked up for twelve bucks off a remaindered rack at Monteagle Pass.

Walking on railroad ballast is no fun, but I didn’t have much choice: there had been a rain recently that made the non-gravel areas full of soft mud. Adding to my distress was the audio book I had been listening to on the trip: Stephen King’s The Long Walk. I kept fearing that if my pace dropped below four miles an hour that someone would terminate me.

A little beyond this point, I ran across a bunch of bones on and around the track. They were too big to be a dog and they weren’t human, so I assumed that a deer picked a bad time to cross the tracks. I picked up a clean piece of vertebrae as a souvenir for Brother Mark.

Here comes the local

It was taking a long, long time for the northbound train to get here for all the whistling it was doing. When it pulled into sight, it had two power units, which meant that it was probably the local freight I shot back in April 2010.

Caboose confirmed it

When the caboose passed, I knew it was the local, probably headed to Proctor & Gamble to drop cars. I decided I’d start walking north again, figuring that once the local passed the stopped freight, it would pull out of the siding.

Getting ready for crew change

Then, the local started backing up and conductor Randy Graviett popped out of the caboose. He explained that they needed to do a crew change. They were going to back the train up far enough he could hop on the engine and go up north of Cape Rock to pick up a new crew. He said the train on the siding was being held up until a dispatcher in Texas told it to proceed.

Delay let me shoot Dredge Potter

By the time I made it north to the parking lot across from Cape Rock, the freight on the siding had pulled out. That was the good news. The bad news was that the local was blocking my path north and south as far as I could see. While I was waiting for the train to move, I spotted the Dredge Potter and her pushboat, The Prairie Du Rocher headed upriver. Not a bad day when you can shoot three stories in a three hours.

I was beginning to get chilly, so I decided to see how far north the local stretched. I finally came upon the head end about half-way to Twin Trees Park. Once I got back on the road, I started counting train cars. I can’t remember now if it was 29 or 39 cars back to the parking lot. I’m going to guess my total walking for the afternoon was about four or five miles on railroad ballast.


Cobbles on a Rainy Night

The headline tells it all. Taken August 3, 1967. You can click on the photos to make them larger.

On the other side of the tracks

Well, maybe on the other side of the floodwall and in the MIDDLE of the tracks. Night view looking south on October 26, 2009.

The Mississippi River and the railroads shaped Cape Girardeau in the 19th and 20th centuries. Because of the western migration, it’s unlikely that the majority of Cape Girardeans hear the mournful whistles of the towboats and trains passing by and through the city.

If you’re feeling you’ve been left a little short with just these two photos, here’s a sampler from earlier that has a bunch of Cape pictures, including ones of the riverfront and bridge. Here’s a place where you can see photos I’ve linked to Pinterest.


Sinkholes, a Train and a Dairy

I always have to take a spin down South Sprigg Street to check out the cement plant and ride out to the Diversion Channel on what used to be U.S. 61 before I-55 was built. The trip has been complicated a bit by a huge sinkhole that’s closed the road off at Cape LaCroix Creek since the spring flood. (Click on any photo to make it larger.)

Where did that farm come from?

When I got to the bridge, I pulled into a road to turn around. There I saw something I’d never noticed before: an old farm house with a sign that read “Farmer Owned Prairie Farms Sprigg Street Dairy.”

Fresh No-Trespassing signs

I’m pretty casual with No Trespassing signs if I think I can meet someone friendly. These signs were fresh and the light was about gone, so I figured I’d file this away for a future visit. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed that farm over the years.

Train in the distance

My attention was drawn to the train whistle of a BNSF freight. I hustled over to get a shot of it crossing the 1929 railroad bridge Niece Laurie and I photographed last year.

Old Federal Materials building

I swiveled to catch the train headed toward the cement plant with the old Federal Materials building in the foreground. The original Blue Hole BBQ was right across the street from this building.

Sinkhole patch about done

Looks like Sprigg Street is about to open. There’s only a little patch left to go. I wonder how long it’ll be before the street gets swallowed up again.