1 of 5

Photographs by Thomas Crone
2 of 5
3 of 5
4 of 5
5 of 5
Let’s roll with this assumption: most St. Louisans seldom, if ever, take time to walk along the banks of the River Des Peres. Many of us may view it as an ecological and industrial necessity, sure. But not as a place to ever spend casual time, even if the river cuts a lengthy path, near the western, then southern boundary of St. Louis City.
As it meanders along its way, it passes power plants, chemical companies, warehouses, shipping facilities, rail yards, cemeteries, soccer fields, and the occasional backyard, until it eventual merges with the Mississippi. To the greatest degree, it’s straight-up utilitarian. Yet, sometimes, along the more tamed areas nearer Lemay and Affton, actual stopping points have been cut into the grassy areas high on the banks, allowing a car’s or bicycle’s passengers a chance to park, to absorb all the scenery that the waterway can offer. Maybe these are modest touches, but they’re thoughtful.
A hardier lot, though, can find some extra points to do sight-seeing. At these places, interestingly bereft of “no trespassing” signs and any other pedestrians, a wanderer can simply exit their vehicle or hop off their bike, then head off for a fast, simple walk down to the water’s edge.
That was a little tricky this past Sunday afternoon, as our later-than-expected blanket of snowfall had created some serious runoff. At the corner of Tennessee and what’s been rechristened as River City Boulevard, there’s a real fine opportunity to park and wander to the river; and the scenes at this tiny intersection of the city reflect the funky nature of the River Des Peres. Below one, small, pedestrian bridge, a run-off tributary of the Des Peres had actually created a mild example of rapids, as melted snow was rushing down the creek, across rocks, past graffiti-tagged bridges and tunnels and into the larger waterway. You could’ve called it pleasing, really, the gentle “whoosh” of water versus rock, cast against the sounds of passing traffic.
Crossing the main road by foot, a traveler is able to find a pathway directly down to the banks, strewn as they are by every manner of urban flotsam and jetsam. In certain, off-the-beaten-path places you expect to find some beer bottles, random shoes, and the remains of an impromptu campfire, but when you come across a full see-saw set, it gives you a moment’s pause. Another time to stop and reflect on Sunday came with a sudden case of the urban explorer’s least favorite, if quickly-dissipated malady, Damp Foot Syndrome, caused by a quick stomp into muddy terrain. An extra pair of socks might not be your vehicle, but... you might consider just that addition, if you decide to do some riverside walking along the wild, woolly, springtime version of the Des Peres.
In the summertime, the channel can become bone-dry, allowing easy foot access from one side to the other, but this past Sunday, the water was moving at a nice clip, keeping humans from the most-fun part of the waterway’s annual options: standing directly in the center, where you can look at the plumes of white mist belching from riverside chemical companies; or up at a weathered trestle as trains clatter overhead. These might not be recommended activities by the local RCGA, but they’re free and in this economy, we’ve all got to find ways to turn our gas dollars into something a little more interesting.
The scene described here’s just a few streets from the historic Heine Meine baseball field, and not a mile from the popular River City Casino. Downtown Lemay’s just down the block and several St. Louis neighborhoods are within view. But standing on the banks of the Des Peres, it’s just you and the puzzled looks of drivers as you head down the ravine, your senses (every one of them) highly engaged.
River Des Peres: St. Louis' Most Beloved Waterway from Thomas Crone on Vimeo.
(Wanna learn more? Sure you do...
Eleven years ago, St. Louis Magazine staff writer Jeannette (Batz) Cooperman wrote a fascinating piece for the Riverfront Times, on the possible beautification of the River Des Peres. Looks like that didn’t happen! riverfronttimes.com/2000-12-06/news/a-sewer-runs-through-it/
For a more-current, yet deeply-historical look the river, check out this great primer by architectural historian Michael R. Allen: creativesaintlouis.com/2010/01/12/creative-places-river-des-peres/)