There are two ways of looking at the Red River:
It is a dirty nuisance that flows between Fargo and Moorhead, a flood-prone menace we can’t trust that has almost no redeeming value.
It is a remarkable resource that – while undoubtedly a flooding threat – is entirely unappreciated for its recreation and beauty.
People who look at the Red the first way are wrong. People who look at it the second way are right.
Stop laughing. It’s true, even if 99 percent of you reading this fall into the first camp.
About the only time most people in this area think of the poor old Red is when it is rising out of its banks, or when we’re talking about trying to do something to keep it from rising out of its banks. Diversion, anyone?
But the fact is, the Red River of the North is one of the most diverse and interesting stretches of water in the region.
Allow me, for a moment, to be a cheerleader for the Red.
The river has more than 70 species of fish swimming in it, including the Almighty Walleye. For those who know what they’re doing when it comes to walleye fishing on the Red – and that does not include me – the river produces both high numbers of walleyes and many truly large walleyes. According to some of the river rats I’ve spoken with, 10-pound walleyes are not uncommon.
The Red, however, is best-known for its status as a world-class place to catch catfish. Yawn, you say. Nothing more than a bullhead on steroids, you say. Typical of the river itself, you say: slimy, stinky and unlovable.
You’d be wrong, but think what you will. The channel catfish swimming by the tens of thousands (millions?) in the Red are top-of-the-line predators that grow as big as 30 pounds. Cats weighing 10-15 pounds are common in the stretch of river bordered by Fargo-Moorhead. Landing a 12-pound catfish in the current is a much better battle than landing a 5-pound walleye on a still Minnesota lake.
Fishing not your thing? Fair enough. The Red and the old-growth woods bordering it are havens for deer, wild turkeys, beavers, otters, fox, coyotes, bald eagles, owls and dozens of other bird species. To sit quietly on the river for a couple of hours, smack dab in the middle of a couple of hundred thousand people, is like being in the northwoods of Minnesota.
And that is the rub, you say. Why would anybody take the Red River seriously when the actual northwoods of Minnesota and lakes country is an hour away?
Perhaps for the same reason I’ve begun to put my boat in the river more often the last couple of months: Because Minnesota lakes country is an hour away. It isn’t much, but it is an hour. And at the end of the workday, with a few hours of daylight remaining, there is a boat launch on the Red River within a few minutes of your home.
The Red is not pristine, of course. The sticky, thick mud along its banks is messy. It is, I’ve found, the biggest drawback to river access.
And the river channel itself is filled with snags and logjams and shallow bars that can raise havoc with propellers and boat hulls (something I learned first-hand recently with a busted prop). It is not a waterway meant for $60,000 boats and 250-horsepower motors. But canoes, kayaks, smaller boats and pontoons are built for the Red … with a little common sense.
Will this column convert anybody into a Red River Rat? Unlikely. The Red doesn’t have the beauty of the historic Missouri or the width and depth of our nation’s most famous river, the Mississippi. It isn’t the pristine, yacht-club quality of the St. Croix. No, the Red is a muddy ribbon that mostly curls anonymously through isolated farmland, interrupted only occasionally by concentrations of people.
It has a shaky co-existence with man. When we think of the Red, which isn’t very often, we think of it as enemy that has to be tamed because it is trying to inundate us.
Truly, the Red River is remarkable and remarkably interesting. Long ignored, it’s worth a look longer than the passing glance you take while zipping over the I-94 bridge at 65 miles per hour.
(Mike McFeely is a talk-show host on 790 KFGO-AM in Fargo-Moorhead. He can be heard 2-5 p.m. weekdays. Follow him on Twitter @MikeMcFeelyKFGO.)