cement often has been carelessly discarded, with re-rod and steel cable still attached,
hazards to paddlers and other boaters and anglers, and an eyesore to all. But the city
remembers the destructive power of the Raccoon and the chaos it imposed in 1993, so
it tries to restrict where the river is allowed to flow.
As it flows toward its confluence with the Des Moines River, the city uses increasingly
restrictive methods to attempt to control the Raccoon and to protect the considerable
investment in infrastructure. With high built-up banks, armored with rock and steel,
and, finally, cement walls to contain its flow for its final ¾ mile after Gray’s Lake—the
Raccoon is directly and restricted. But the river reminds us that, though citified, it still
has its wild streak. Battered steel walls, missing rip rap, failing banks, crumbling
cement, piles of huge trees on bridges—all are reminders that the river is still fully
capable of exerting its power whenever the rains on its watershed allow. It has moved
into the city, but it still has its wild side!
The wooded riparian corridor is wide compared to the stretch of river farther west,
aided by the presence of Walnut Woods State Park, West Des Moines’ Raccoon River
Valley Park, and Polk County’s Browns Woods Park. Trees are more scattered and the
resulting landscape more savannah-like in Des Moines Water Works Park. These parks,
however, serve as a well-protected corridor for the river and provide habitat for river
wildlife, in the midst of an urban area. White-tailed deer come to the banks to drink
while rough-winged and cliff swallows and chimney swifts catch insects in the air above
them. Great blue herons, killdeer, and spotted sandpipers probe the beaches and
shallows for fish and insect prey. While old mussel shells can be found on some of those
beaches, live mussels in this section are few. Canada geese graze the meadows of Water
Works Park and loaf on the Raccoon’s beaches. Mallard hens, successfully bringing off
late nests, lead ducklings to the comparative safety of the river. A bald-faced hornets’
nest, basketball sized, hangs hidden in the leafy branches over the river. Song
sparrows, house wrens, catbirds, and indigo buntings all sing their praises of the habitat
along the river. Cedar waxwings hawk for insects from the branches of a silver maple
snag that has fallen into the water. Tracks in the mud and fresh-chewed sticks of willow
and cottonwood serve as evidence of the presence of turtles, raccoons, and beavers.
Holes in standing tree snags and distant calls reveal the presence of downy, red-headed,
and red-bellied woodpeckers and flickers. A bald eagle, perched on a dead cottonwood
near the 63
rd
Street Bridge identifies the Raccoon as fit for fishing, despite its urban
character. A fisherman, still in hospital scrubs, confirms it, fishing the river beside
Grays Lake over his lunch hour. Red-tailed hawks scream, declaring that it is good for
rabbits, too. A barred owl can be seen as close to downtown as the edge of Grays Lake
Downtown, beside the busy parking lot of Principal Park, a woodchuck has taken up
residence in the unmowed bank. While not as abundant, perhaps, as they are farther
upstream, these wildlife species share the river with us and make a paddle on the
Raccoon more enjoyable and eventful. Like the river, they have adapted their wildness
to the city.
The access at Walnut Woods is very adequate for paddlers. Due to the load of silt the
river carries, it must be regularly cleared, however. So, too, the ramp at Water Works