A support group and a lab in the St. Louis area provide resources for people with the allergy to mammal products — and evidence that its effects can be reversed.
Desk reporter Madeline Heim of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel stands on the frozen Mississippi River just upstream of Lock & Dam 4 in Alma, Wisconsin. Mark Hoffman/Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
When I first saw the photos from this reporting trip, I knew we'd need to find a way to get it into the newsletter. Field reporting has always been one of my favorite parts of producing journalism. There's an adventure to it: getting to hop in for a ride with the many interesting people that make this country run and drive science forward.
Desk reporter Madeline Heim of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel had one of those experiences recently, traveling to Minnesota for a day zipping around icy waters on a fanboat as scientists studied ice thickness on the Mississippi. She shares:
“Since I took this job, I’ve paddled, boated and swum in the Mississippi River — but in January, I got to do something pretty unique and a little terrifying: I walked on it.
In the winter, the river ices over in its northern stretches. Sometimes, even the shipping channel freezes, despite its powerful current. This was one of those winters — but climate change means they’re getting less frequent. I headed out with two researchers from the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources and the U.S. Geological Survey to learn about how they study ice thickness and duration on the river and how our warming world is changing that.
We donned full-body “survival suits” for protection if we plunged into the frigid water and climbed into an airboat for a bumpy and exhilarating ride across the ice, stopping at a spot near Kellogg, Minnesota, about 90 minutes downriver from the Twin Cities. As they drilled a hole to measure how thick the ice was, I marveled at its beauty under my feet, strikingly clear aside from thin criss-crossed lines telling the story of how it formed.
Ice on the upper Mississippi River near Kellogg, Minnesota. Madeline Heim/Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
Ice is an important part of winter life for the people and animals that call the upper Mississippi River home, but it’s changing. Between 1831 and 1938, the river froze over at least 10 times as far downstream as St. Louis. These researchers’ data show that if a concerted effort is not made to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, the main driver of human-caused climate change, the river may freeze over only near Minneapolis by 2100. The ice is also getting thinner and breaking up sooner, which can be dangerous for people walking on it.
I still find that all too often, we think of climate change as something that won’t affect us personally, especially folks like myself in cold-weather states far from the coast. But as I cruised across the ice, ice fishers dotting the river around me, it was another powerful reminder that our world really is changing, and that without action to slow climate change, there may be winter traditions that grow farther and farther out of reach.”
Thanks, Madeline, for your reporting and for sharing a bit about the process! She also hits on an important aspect of climate reporting: connecting local experiences to the global story. We experience climate change through the impacts to our towns and neighborhoods, and this is one of those examples of an age-old tradition that may change with our warming planet.
