Print publication date: 08/31/2007
When the raging Duck runs amok
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Photo: Michael Romkey Drew Romkey watches Duck Creek recently as it comes out of its banks and moves toward the bike path. |
A decade back we bought a house on Duck Creek, so you can say we deserve whatever we get.
It’s been a rainy summer, off and own. Last week about this time I was beginning to despair of ever seeing the sun again. It’s been good weather for the trees and grass. Good weather for sleeping, despite being awakened by thunder. Bad weather for the creek.
The Duck -– or the Raging Duck, as we know in times of deluge –- has run fast and full in its banks more times than I care to count this summer. It’s even flooded a couple of times.
When it rains like the dickens, that first glace out the window in the morning is done with a certain degree of teeth-grinding anxiety. When the water leaves its banks and creeps toward the street, in becomes necessary for me to stand in the middle of Parkway and engage in my “staring down the Duck” ritual. Truth is, it’s not so much man-vs.-nature willpower as a few minutes of desperate prayer.
The second part of the Duck-run-amok routine is the ritual inspection of the basement. Ours has remained mercifully dry since we invested a chunk of income-tax refund money in new 6-inch gutters. It hurt to write that check, but it was worth every penny. Thank you, Suburban Construction.
I love living next to the creek. All I have to do is cross the street and I’m on the bike path, the Quad-Cities’ most cost-effective public amenity. It’s like living next to a park -– long, skinny park that runs from near the Mississippi in Bettendorf all the way to west Davenport. When there are leaves on the trees, the houses on bluff across the creek disappear into foliage. It’s like living in the Ozarks but without having to hear the banjo music or run from revenuers.
We pay for the privilege of our creek lifestyle. The powers that be decreed we had to get flood insurance with our mortgage (which, if I understand it right, helps some if our house is totally destroyed but not much up to that point). The flood insurance was $500 a year when we moved in; now it’s up to $100 a month.
Officialdom has little sympathy for we creeksters. The opinion in Bettendorf and Davenport city halls seems to be along the lines of, “You were dumb enough to buy a house on Duck Creek, good luck. Now, let’s see how much development we can promote upstream that drains into the creek and makes your life interesting whenever it rains.”
Like I said: We bought a house along Duck Creek, we deserve whatever we get. Just don’t expect me not to brag or complain about it, whichever the circumstances require.
Michael Romkey is Q-C Leader editor. He blogs at michaelromkey.typepad.com.