THE FALLS

Upriver, just about every group of canoeists I met asked in worried tones how far it was to (shudder) The Falls, that nemesis of floaters that manages to devour about one or two canoes per weekend. The Falls, located just below Casey Ford, actually present no great hazard. It's a short drop, with several clear openings between the rocks. Trouble occurs only when approaching canoeists get panicky, decide to go through a different channel at the last second and end up drifting sideways into some rocks. The pressure of the water can hold the canoe against a rock like a vice and even fold it up like a jackknife. 

Redman Hensley shows the remains
of a grist mill he used to operate
on the North Fork River

GUTHRIE FORD

A mile beyond The Falls, just above Guthrie Ford, an old metal roofed log house is visible from the river. It hasn't been lived in for several years. But later I traveled several miles of backroads to meet the original owner, Redman Hensley, 73, who lives with his wife in a mobile home a short distance away.

This was a particularly fortunate discovery, for here was a living example of the old-fashioned ingenuity that early pioneers depended on in the face of scarcity and isolation.

His father, James Hensley, had traded 160 acres of land to the west for these 80 acres along the river in 1915 because he was interested in water power. But being advanced in years when the move was made, the elder Hensley was able to get only as far as building a mill race before his death in the mid 1920s.

It fell to Redman, only 15 years old at the time, to complete his father's ambition. He had only eight years of formal education, but he also had inherited his father's mechanical aptitude and self-confidence. Over a period of several years, whenever his farm work allowed, he carefully surveyed the banks of the river and charted the rise and fall of the waters. At night, he studied science books he borrowed from a school teacher friend and taught himself the basics of mechanics and electricity.

Using many parts salvaged from old cars and tractors, he eventually built an undershot water wheel at the end of the mill race below his house. The end of the shaft had a beveled gear that transferred motion to another shaft running uphill to a mill house, turning stone buhrs that ground grain for himself and neighbors. Later, he connected an electrical generator to the shaft and had a business of charging up people's batteries for their radios and lights.

After about 15 years, the bearing and gears of the water wheel finally gave out and the whole thing sort of fell apart, Hensley said. He substituted a gasoline engine and continued running the grinding mechanism for several more years. Today only a few metal fragments remain as evidence of where the water wheel and mill had stood.

Living today without electricity, he said he would like to generate his own power again. But he wouldn't use water power anymore. Always reading and experimenting, he's going to see what he can do with solar energy, he said.

BLAIR BRIDGE

One of the early settlers east of the river between Guthrie Ford and Blair Ford was James Trump, who moved here from Oregon in 1908. One of his sons, Walter Trump, 93, now of West Plains, remembers harvesting wheat with a grain cradle and taking it downstream to a mill at Patrick Ford, where Patrick Bridge is now. He also made his own apple cider. Both the cradle and the cider press are family heirlooms.

One of Walter's favorite pastimes was setting trot lines in the river for eels, which were baited with chunks of rabbit meat. The eels were skinned and fried, just like catfish.

"Those were the good old times . . .  then. I don't think I'd want to see them again," is Walter's assessment. Once, while crossing Blair Ford in a buggy during high water, his wife had to hold on to the children to keep them from being swept away by the current. During the drought years of the 30s, when many springs went dry, he and other farmers would drive herds of cattle and hogs down to the river for water.

The river had more than economic importance. When Walter and his brother went to Kansas in the summer to find work during the wheat harvests, they were always glad to get back and see the beautiful hills along the river again.

In 1923, after one stay in Kansas, they returned to an even more pleasant sight. A man named Young had completed a bridge across Blair Ford, the first on the North Fork River. This was destroyed by a flood ten years later, however, and until the present bridge was built in 1935, residents had to go back to fording the river.

One of the people helping to build the new bridge was Beryl Pettit. He and his wife Betty now run a canoe rental and campground at Blair Bridge, one of the first on the North Fork.

The image of a tapestry of interwoven lives seemed all the more appropriate when Betty Pettit explained that she is the sister of Warren McKee's wife, Naomi. They are both natives --granddaughters of James Trump.

The Pettits, who returned to live on the river after being away many years, come across as typical, friendly Ozarks people. They love the land and the river, yet maintain an open, helpful attitude toward the weekend canoeists. They enjoy serving the 95 percent of river users they see as "good people who respect the river" and try not to get too vexed at the other five percent.

Adds their son, Pat, "We expect to see some people let off a little steam when they come here. If I were cooped up in an apartment in Kansas City all week, I would too. I enjoy seeing them have a good time. They can't really hurt the river as long as they keep it clean."

He said most of the trash found in the river gets there by accident when canoes are overturned. Even this small amount has little lasting effect. "The trouble is we haven't had a good gully washer in two or three years to flush it all out."

This perhaps summarizes the situation of the rivers today. The uses people have made of the river -- for food, transportation, water, power, recreation -- have changed over many generations. But there is general agreement that the river is there to be used and enjoyed The only question is how much use the river's limited resources can absorb.

It seems to come back to the kinds of attitudes people bring with them. If a float trip is thought of as a brief visit with a good friend and we act accordingly, we are sure to be welcomed back again with a smile.

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