CRAIG -- Fritz Behr is drawn to the metallic disk submerged in the river like a fish to a lure. While its make and model are unknown, the hubcap has been here for years, partially rusted with riverweed caught in its spokes.

At 76 years old, Behr climbs slowly from the raft and wades into the water. He reaches for the riverbed, stretching to retrieve the hubcap off the stony bottom.

"It's another American beauty," Behr says in his New York accent, lifting the hubcap high as a prize fighter shows his belt. "That's one less piece of garbage in the Missouri River."

More than 20 volunteers have gathered today below Holter Dam to help clean up the river. Braving a spring rain, the floaters carry trash bags and gloves, ready to begin their eight-mile journey down the Mighty Mo.

Part of National River Cleanup Day, the event was founded in 1991 by American Rivers to free the nation's waterways of the accumulation of trash.

Adventures Unlimited, started by Mariah Davis, helped organize the local event, enjoying the support of several businesses that have donated everything from bagels to a raft to a free drink at Izaak's in Craig when the trip ends.

"The Missouri is so important to our community," Davis says. "We've got to take every opportunity we can to protect it. Keeping it clean is one way we can do our part for the river we love."

The last shuttle reaches the boat launch below Holter Dam just before noon. Davis has staged the rafts, kayaks and paddles by the water while Jennifer Harris and Ayrne Meyer sign in the volunteers who trickle in from Helena and Wolf Creek.

Working like a street magician off to the side, Missouri River ranger Chris Dantic of Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks presents a bouquet of silk weeds. A band of kids from Montana Youth Homes gather around him, wondering, it seems, what they are getting into.

The lessons on river ecology have begun. Pulling spotted knapweed and leafy spurge from the riverbank, Dantic says, will be greatly appreciated.

"Mariah called me a month or so ago," Dantic explains, holding the flowering weeds in his fist. "This is our first river cleanup event. I think we'll have a pretty good day today."

The flotilla sets off down the river at noon. Three rafts, a drift boat, a canoe and a half-dozen kayaks. Trout leap from the water chasing caddis flies while the sleek boats carve silver ripples across the surface.

The float to the Wolf Creek Bridge lasts less than an hour. But in that short distance volunteers pull three hubcaps and a tire from the water. Students from Montana Youth Homes find a burned out speaker. Within an hour, volunteers collect enough bottles, cans and rebar to fill a raft, which sits in tow behind the canoe.

"It's like a giant Easter egg hunt," Davis says, trying to put a positive spin on the garbage emerging from the water. "You never know what you're going to find."

The collection of trash is not specific to the Missouri River. Since National River Cleanup Day began in 1991, more than 600,000 volunteers have pulled more than 1,000 tons of trash from 100,000 miles of rivers and streams.

Another two miles down the Missouri and the bounty grows to include a house key, another tire, a classic Coke bottle, and the remnants of a railroad car. Abandoned irrigation equipment dumped along the riverbank is too heavy to move. By now, it has become part of the landscape, much like the rusting rail cars sitting above the western bank.

How the underwear got in the water remains a question. The broken paddle and the fractured fishing pole are understandable. The plastic foam containers would be here for years if not for the volunteers who pull them from the water.

Despite the debris, there is something tranquil about this river, this sky and this place. The feeding fish, the insects on the water, the river's steady push to a place so distant it would take three days to reach it by car.

It is here in Montana, after all, where the Missouri River begins its 2,615-mile run to the Mississippi. It starts high above the Madison, the Jefferson and the Gallatin rivers. It starts in melting ice and snow. It starts as a trickle of fresh, cool water rushing down a mountainside in southwest Montana.

The water converges. The collection grows. It moves faster, stronger. It becomes wide and deep, giving to Montana what the aorta gives to the body. Without it, life would be far different. Without it, life for many species would end.

Katherine James, a 17-year-old volunteer from Montana Youth Homes, noted that compared to rivers in industrial areas where rivers are clogged with trash.

"It's pretty gross," she said. "This is a whole lot better in comparison."

"It's a whole lot cleaner than most rivers I see," adds 13-year-old Ashley Stanford, also from Montana Youth Homes. "It's fun keeping it that way."

The gravel bottom races below the boats. One must imagine the people down river, the places we could go if we drift long enough. Cattle move along the shoreline, the meadows deep and green. Sandy cliffs drop to the water. Above, the mountains are cloaked in fog and mist.

Davis knows this river as well as anyone. With a recreation management degree from Appalachian State in North Carolina, she has transformed her love of water and adventure into a full-blown Montana nonprofit

group aimed at providing outdoor education and experience to those

who seek it.

Aided by Harris, former owner of Montana Kid Fitters, Inc., and Meyer, who believes nature encourages artistic expression, Davis has worked eagerly to organize this cleanup. Volunteers from several Missouri River communities have come to help, including Mike and Merlyn Greely and their son, Winston.

Today, across the country, thousands of others are doing the same thing. Tomorrow the nation's rivers and streams will flow a little cleaner, including eight scenic miles of Montana's Missouri River.

Reporter Martin Kidston: mkidston@helenair.com or 447-4086