Menomonee River concrete channel removal underway: a photo essay

Work began in September to remove 1,100 feet of concrete channel in the Menomonee River near Miller Brewing and the Wisconsin Avenue viaduct. The purpose is to return the river to a somewhat more natural state and enable fish to more easily migrate upriver. A final section of concrete channel south of the viaduct is slated for removal later in 2014. That will complete the channel removal that began upstream at 45th Street when a small dam was removed approximately 15 years ago. Those who are familiar with my book, Urban Wilderness: Exploring a Metropolitan Watershed (published in 2008) may remember that I wrote about the promise of channel restoration at that time. Thankfully, that promise finally is being fulfilled. Here is a photo essay of the current conditions. (For a more detailed account of the project go to jsonline.)

Water intake pipes

View towards Wis. Ave. viaduct

Graffiti on railroad bridge

View from viaduct with Miller lot in background

View downwards from viaduct

View from Bluemound Rd. bridge upstream

Outflow pipes

A section of the restored channel

Kinnickinnic River: images and metaphors

I watch for clouds. When I notice them tumbling overhead, I seek out open spaces where I can see the drama unfold. Today a brisk westerly wind whips them up. I’ve been eager for an excuse to revisit the troubled Kinnickinnic River. On my way there I crane my neck to see through the car windows. Cumulus, billowing and wrestling, converge on torn patches of blue sky.

By the time I reach the KK Parkway gray clouds have overcome the blue. It is completely overcast; gloomy.  Disappointed but unfazed, I head down the concrete slope into the KK channel, where gloomy seems an appropriate mood.

Last week I kayaked down the Milwaukee River. (Read my previous post.) The KK River repels as romantic nonsense any notion of setting a boat into it. This river repels even the notion of “river.” It appears more like an empty freeway with a watery median.

What kind of society paves its rivers?

To slightly alter one of my favorite lines from an old song by Paul Simon, “I’d rather be a river than a street….”  So, now and then, I step off the concrete “pavement” into the channel. The chorus concludes, “I’d rather sail away, like a Swan that’s here and gone….” But I am determined. I continue down the much-abused river.

Within fifteen minutes the clouds have dissipated. Shredded remnants are a theatrical backdrop for the river of concrete. The resurgent sun lightens my mood as well as the surroundings.

I rarely go out without my camera, which is probably my loss. Mostly I acquire a lot of pictures that fill up an enormous amount of space on my hard drives. What I risk losing is the freedom to experience my surroundings aimlessly, purely.

Thoreau wrote, “Our moments of inspiration are not lost though we have no particular poem to show for them; for those experiences have left an indelible impression….” (Substitute “photo” for “poem.”) The Kinnickinnic River, with its relentless concrete, leaves an indelible impression.

I am glad for my camera today. The abased river is rich with imagery and metaphor.

I come to a wall built during the Civilian Conservation Corps era. The meticulous craftsmanship of its construction is still evident despite the depredations of time and erosion. Vines dangle over it and in places trees burst through the carefully laid stones, as if mocking our puny efforts to control natural forces, raging rivers, erosion. Even a walk along a concrete river can provide a lesson in humility. Who are we to wall in a river?

Adding insult to injury, the steel ramparts of a railroad bridge are defiled with layers of graffiti. One particular tag is compellingly ironic: boldly, the word JOKE vanquishes previous tags, for now. The question goes begging: on who is the joke? Trailing vines swing in the breeze, emphasizing how inert the JOKE really is.

A variegated shaft of sunlight slashes across the warring layers of graffiti underneath the bridge. There is no victor here. But! Farther on….

Grass ruptures concrete. The leaves of emergent bushes burst through, spill out like an organic solvent for human arrogance. Trees rise from the paved river. An ovation of clouds rises to applaud the transfiguration.

The Kinnickinnic, identified as one of the “most endangered” rivers in the country, is nothing to celebrate. The penetration of concrete by blades of grass, while marvelous, does not constitute redemption. And yet…!

I arrived in gloom; but the clouds have lifted and so have my spirits. There is hope. The ruptured concrete may be a symbol of a new awareness. Not far downstream machinery is poised to remove the concrete channel from a section of the KK and reconfigure a more natural river. The concrete channel is not ordained. Let us be like the humble grass.

We can be a society that unpaves its rivers. But it is in ourselves that change must happen.

I leave the concrete river, satisfied that I have managed to arrest the flow of time and the river with a few photographs, but challenged by Thoreau once again:

“It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful, but it is more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts. We are tasked to make our lives, even in their details, worthy of the contemplation of our most elevated and critical hour.”

Kinnickinnic River views

Last week, during the heat wave, the rivers revealed much that had been buried under ice and snow. Here are a few snaps from the section of the KK that is part of the MMSD flood control project, between 6th Street and 16th Street. (The concrete channel is to be removed and the river reconfigured.)

Santa caught in the stream.

View west from 6th Street, with Santa Claus.

No words needed.

One of the houses on the list for demolition.

The slabs of ice struck me as appropriate metaphors for the slabs of concrete that will soon be removed from the KK channel. (In 2008 the KK was designated one of the ten most endangered rivers in the country. Federal funding for mitigation followed, thankfully!)

For more images of the KK River, go to my flickr page.

Concrete Channel Removal on the Menomonee River - Hooray!

Shortly after I posted my last post about concrete removal on the KK river (see below) I read very similar news this morning about the Menomonee River. (Read it at Menomonee River concrete removal....) I've been hoping for this ever since 1997, which is when the "drop structure," a.k.a. dam, at 45th street was removed, along with a long stretch of concrete channel. I wrote about this in my book, Urban Wilderness: Exploring a Metropolitan Watershed, in a chapter I called "Concrete Creeks." I'm delighted that it now needs updating. Here are just three selections of photographs from that book.

This image shows the concrete removal underway. The entire flow of the Menomonee River had to be contained in the pipe for the duration of the project, which was done in February because that is a time of low flow.

This image (right) shows what the channel looked like following the removal of the channel. It looks pretty much the same today, with a bit more vegetation grown in. As stated in the Journal Sentinel article, the rocks allow for shelter where fish can rest in their swim upstream against the current.

The image below shows salmon struggling vainly to make headway against the current in the concrete channel. This is the problem and removal of this last steep stretch of concrete is supposed to enable fish to swim more freely from Lake Michigan upstream into Wauwatosa. Perhaps, one day, the few remaining drop structures in Wauwatosa will be removed as well, which would further improve migration.