Billion-Dollar Pipe Dream: The Missouri River's Navigation Nightmare
As grain trucks rumble northeast from South Dakota and southwest Minnesota to the Twin Cities, a winding river snakes its way below Amelia Earhart's childhood home in Atchison, Kansas. A century ago, steamboats once dominated this waterway, facilitating economic development across the nation. Now, a decades-long effort to deepen the Missouri River has yielded little payoff.
Despite spending billions improving navigability on the river, grain shipments on it have dwindled to near nothing. So why the investment? Congress, influenced by topography and historical precedent, approved funding for locks and dams on the Upper Mississippi, Ohio, and Tennessee rivers. The Arkansas was also made navigable to Tulsa, Oklahoma.
However, the Missouri River's unique challenges proved insurmountable. Topography, with its steep currents and frequent floods, makes it impossible to replicate the Mississippi's gentle slope. Even without the 26 locks and dams on the Mississippi, the cumulative lift required for a similar system on the Missouri would be staggering.
Instead of building a stair-step of flat lakes joined by locks, engineers opted for "wing dams" – structures that anchor the main channel in place and deepen it enough for barges. These jetties or breakwaters, stretching out 300 to 400 feet into the river, now dot the Missouri's banks from Atchison to Sioux City.
Yet, even these measures have yielded limited results. The confined river is deep enough for barges carrying nine-foot loads, but narrow and winding, making navigation a test of skill for towboats. Crew numbers remain the same as on the upper Mississippi, despite smaller vessel sizes.
The result: Missouri River barge cargo dominated by sand and gravel carried short distances, while local use is met with barges from nearby islands. Statistics reveal just 160 barges loaded for movement to St. Louis or beyond in recent years – a far cry from the envisioned industrial hub of the past.
The dream of a modernized Missouri River has proven elusive. Congress's natural inclination to fund projects leads to "lock-and-dam" solutions, prioritizing guaranteed channels over sound economics. The U.S. Treasury has wasted billions on this pipe dream, with little payoff in sight.
This phenomenon repeats itself across various infrastructure initiatives – harbors and airports – where deepening or expanding capacity often yields limited returns due to diminishing demand for larger vessels or increased airport services. Politics trump economics, as smaller ports are relegated to secondary status while major hubs receive priority funding.
As the nation's economic landscape continues to shift, it remains to be seen whether policymakers will learn from the Missouri River's costly mistakes and adopt more measured approaches to infrastructure development.
As grain trucks rumble northeast from South Dakota and southwest Minnesota to the Twin Cities, a winding river snakes its way below Amelia Earhart's childhood home in Atchison, Kansas. A century ago, steamboats once dominated this waterway, facilitating economic development across the nation. Now, a decades-long effort to deepen the Missouri River has yielded little payoff.
Despite spending billions improving navigability on the river, grain shipments on it have dwindled to near nothing. So why the investment? Congress, influenced by topography and historical precedent, approved funding for locks and dams on the Upper Mississippi, Ohio, and Tennessee rivers. The Arkansas was also made navigable to Tulsa, Oklahoma.
However, the Missouri River's unique challenges proved insurmountable. Topography, with its steep currents and frequent floods, makes it impossible to replicate the Mississippi's gentle slope. Even without the 26 locks and dams on the Mississippi, the cumulative lift required for a similar system on the Missouri would be staggering.
Instead of building a stair-step of flat lakes joined by locks, engineers opted for "wing dams" – structures that anchor the main channel in place and deepen it enough for barges. These jetties or breakwaters, stretching out 300 to 400 feet into the river, now dot the Missouri's banks from Atchison to Sioux City.
Yet, even these measures have yielded limited results. The confined river is deep enough for barges carrying nine-foot loads, but narrow and winding, making navigation a test of skill for towboats. Crew numbers remain the same as on the upper Mississippi, despite smaller vessel sizes.
The result: Missouri River barge cargo dominated by sand and gravel carried short distances, while local use is met with barges from nearby islands. Statistics reveal just 160 barges loaded for movement to St. Louis or beyond in recent years – a far cry from the envisioned industrial hub of the past.
The dream of a modernized Missouri River has proven elusive. Congress's natural inclination to fund projects leads to "lock-and-dam" solutions, prioritizing guaranteed channels over sound economics. The U.S. Treasury has wasted billions on this pipe dream, with little payoff in sight.
This phenomenon repeats itself across various infrastructure initiatives – harbors and airports – where deepening or expanding capacity often yields limited returns due to diminishing demand for larger vessels or increased airport services. Politics trump economics, as smaller ports are relegated to secondary status while major hubs receive priority funding.
As the nation's economic landscape continues to shift, it remains to be seen whether policymakers will learn from the Missouri River's costly mistakes and adopt more measured approaches to infrastructure development.