When the River Tried to Erase Arkansas

You're rolling through the Mississippi River floodplain here, some of the flattest, most historically flood-prone terrain in America. Memphis sits on the fourth Chickasaw Bluff, one of the few elevated spots along this stretch of the river, which is why the city exists at all. This is deltaic country, where the Big Muddy has been reshaping the landscape for millennia. Spring and early summer bring high water and thick humidity. Fall and winter offer cooler temps and clearer skies, perfect for getting out on the trails and waterways.

For paddling, you've got the Mississippi River itself, plus Shelby Forest just north of town with multiple oxbow lakes perfect for kayaking. Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park offers about twenty miles of hiking trails through bottomland hardwoods and along those ancient river bluffs. T.O. Fuller State Park on the south side has another dozen miles of trails winding through similar terrain. The Wolf River Greenway is growing every year, eventually planned to stretch forty miles through the metro area.

If you're into birding, this is a major stop on the Mississippi Flyway. Waterfowl hunting season runs November through January in the surrounding bottoms. Fishing for catfish, bass, and crappie is year-round, though spring and fall are prime.

But here's a story most people don't know. In 1811 and 1812, the New Madrid earthquakes, the most powerful ever recorded in the eastern United States, literally ran the Mississippi River backwards. Not figuratively. Backwards. For several hours, the current reversed. Entire islands disappeared. New lakes formed overnight. One of them, Reelfoot Lake up in the northwest corner of Tennessee, was born in a single night when the ground dropped fifteen feet and the river rushed in to fill it.

Eyewitnesses in the few settlements along the river reported the water piling up, then rushing upstream with tremendous force. Trees snapped. Boats were flung onto banks. The river channel itself shifted in places. What had been the main channel became a backwater. What had been forest became riverbed.

Reelfoot Lake is still there today, about seventy miles north of where you're sitting, a shallow cypress swamp teeming with eagles, herons, and some of the best crappie fishing in the South. It's proof that this river, peaceful as it might look on a calm day, has tremendous power to remake the world.