The Charles River White Geese people continue to wonder if the bloom was caused by fertilizer runoff from the brand-spankin' new Teddy Ebersol baseball fields on the Boston side.
I'm cycling or rollerblading to work and back home almost everyday along the Charles river, when the weather allows. Everybody, who travels same way starting from Channel 4 and beyond, must use the Eliot bridge underpass. I don't know who is responsible for it's cleaning, but this tunnel's pavement hasn't been cleaned up since it has been open, I believe. Could be good to force the Boston's authority person to force at least ones to pass throught by rollerblades. I'm not sure, if if that person could make succesfuly it.
Leslie continues her kayak explorations of the Charles. Near Arsenal Street:
You would hardly think you are in the middle of the city, with cars whizzing by on both sides just beyond the trees. ...
Leslie Turek rents a kayak and spends an hour on the Charles:
... There was a lovely cool breeze on the water, the sun sparkled, the trees were green, and the traffic noise was hidden away behind a screen of foliage. There was the soft splashing sound of the paddles, and the sight of the occasional bird or dragonfly skimming over the water. It was like being in a dream. ...
LM posts photos from Sunday's Dragon Boat Festival on the Charles.
Natural flood control in action this afternoon along the Charles River near Milliennium Park in West Roxbury.
Part of the reason you're not hearing much about flooding along the Charles is simply because a lot more rain fell up near the Merrimack than around the Charles. But part of it might also have to do with a decision made by the Army Corps of Engineers in the 1970s.
Until the '70s, the federal and state governments used classic engineering techniques to try to reduce flooding in the Charles - they built a dam at the mouth and some mega-pumps to pump water from the river into the harbor. And the Corps came up with a $100-million proposal to build levees and flood-control dams along the middle Charles. But the Corps abandoned that plan in favor of something more unusual: It began buying up or acquiring easements to some 8,100 acres of low-lying riverbank land from the Medfield/Millis line to the Dedham/Boston line - and then just let the land sit there.
The idea was that the various parcels of land would act as giant natural sponges during floods, absorbing vast amounts of water quickly, then releasing it slowly as the river receded. And it seems to work. During heavy rain (or the spring thaw), the Medfield/Millis border becomes a large lake - but since nobody lives on the Corps land, nobody has to be evacuated, either. You can see similar flood control in action from the top of Millennium Park in West Roxbury - or even across from the northbound side of Rte. 128 just past Great Plain Avenue.
Acquiring the land cost $10 million - or 10% of what the government had originally expected to spend on manmade structures.
Neal discovers the joy of driving when no one's around:
A lucky few would take the Charles River detour.
Krissy and Matt launch a canoe in Newton and take photos of the trip.
The Charles River White Geese Blog chronicles efforts to save the white geese of the Charles River basin:
... Yesterday, February 20, 2006, I was able to visit the Goose Meadow/Destroyed Nesting Area, the only part of the habitat of the Charles River White Geese from which they have not been barred since September 2004, and it was destroyed by Boston University for normal use in October 1999.
The gaggle of the Charles River White Geese greeted me with their usual happy hello. ...
Thanks to the Regatta, it took Rose 2 hours and 45 minutes to get from Davis Square to Coolidge Corner on the T. However, she resists the temptation to push any slumming stoner rich kids on the tracks.
No, not on the races themselves. Jonelle provides the over/under odds for regatta-related happenings: Men spotted wearing Nantucket Reds; bodies found in the river by hapless rowing crews; and drunk college students falling off the footbridge.