SUSQUEHANNA RIVER SUITES

To Know a River

SUSQUEHANNA RIVER SUITES
Doc Moreau gets a chance on the bow as the sun sets on Pennsylvania’s Susquehanna River. After a long drive from Vermont, some New Jersey pizza, and rowing Ben Rogers and photographer Rob Yaskovic in his own drift boat, you’d think Doc would be rewarded with a smallie. You’d be wrong. Photo: Rob Yaskovic
Words: Michael Garrigan

“To PUT your hands in a river is to feel the chords that bind the earth together” Barry Lopez

ONE

Into the river is where I’m bound.

TWO

Every river has a language. Every river has a history. Every river is a teacher.

THREE

Four-hundred forty-four miles of water from New York to the Chesapeake. The Susquehanna is the mother of mountains, older than the Ridge Appalachians that try to follow its long meander but can never hold on to its slow turns. Created when Gondwana pushed and melded into Euramerica, named by the Lenape and the Susquehannock—Siskëwahane, Oyster River—this water has run over rocks longer than any named deity. It will run long after we are gone, its flows are a faith in everlasting life. This river has survived drought, diseases, dams and nuclear reactor meltdowns. Before the dams, shad and eel filled this river with dark angles and chrome bursts. Now, smallmouth bass, flathead catfish and a mixture of native and non-native species call these waters home. Hallowed be thy name, Susquehanna, a river named with oyster spit and the shimmer and shake of little darters through muddy shallows. Crayfish, bowfin, lamprey—amen.

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