Introduction "Come on, I say to the creek, surprise me; and it does, with each new drop."
- Annie Dillard, writer
Riding in the back seat of a friend's car one sunny Saturday afternoon, I toyed with an old Nikon camera, framing shots as we sped past Choccolocco Creek - a blur of water in a widening landscape of sod fields and pine-forested mountains.
It later dawned on me, after four years in Anniston, I only knew the major creek of our region from such split-second bridge crossings.
Like other Calhoun County residents, I had absorbed the worst of the 70-mile creek. The fish, the sediment and who knew what else were tainted by chemical pollution and illegal dumping. I was too disgusted to take a close look at it and too spooked to dip a paddle in it.
But I also knew Choccolocco was a critical habitat for rare fish and wildflowers. It was the largest tributary stream of one of the most important rivers in Alabama, the Coosa. In places, it was beautiful. So, I decided to get in the water and then write about my experiences.
I began in April. My project officially ends now in late November, after six boat trips, five hikes, one wading trip and dozens of car rides to remote rural bridges. During most trips, my fellow travelers and I discovered a healthier creek than the one we expected.
The creek surprised us. It materialized in brilliant, mutating shapes on its long journey to the Coosa River - depending on time and place, the creek appeared as a tiny blue ribbon, a lazy rural creek or a muscular river.
The scenes I liked best: a translucent run over a sandbar next to a bank of rare yellow blossoms; shaded pools blurring the monstrous profiles of striped bass; thundering whitewater bypassing a historic dam; Cahaba lilies about to erupt from their beds in sparkling shoal waters.
The ones I don't like: a pickup truck gate lodged under Jim Campbell Bridge in the upper valley; dirty water where thirsty cows jump and splash on mud beaches; ugly erosion choking the stream under Mellon Bridge near U.S. 78; the documents that tell me about 70 million gallons of untreated sewage wastewater inadvertently released to lower Choccolocco this year.
By late September, I dropped most of my other work to focus on Choccolocco. I began piling my notes and documents in abandoned corners of The Star newsroom. I littered my house and my car with topographic maps, acorns, mollusk shells and desiccated maple leaves.
See "Rediscovering Choccolocco"
