ON THE TAR RIVER – It's easy to take the Tar River for granted.

On one hand, its presence is pervasive. The river's namesake is stamped on countless organizations and businesses – used as one of the key distinguishing markers for the Twin Counties – and it provides drinking water to thousands.

Geographically, the river literally cuts Rocky Mount in two. The Tar's fall line lies at the site of the Old Mill in Battle Park, the spot from which the city sprung into existence more than a century ago.

Yet that familiarity seems to have worn on Rocky Mount like an old toy. To say that the river is ignored would be severe. But its specter has graced the city long enough that it has become, to many, unremarkable.

The Tar is too often an asset recognized by all, but treasured by few – a point driven home by the surfeit of litter found on its shores.

Even as fishermen line its banks and boaters take to its flow, there are many more who interact with the river only by glancing out a car window.

It was that kind of passive appreciation of the Tar River that I sought to conquer when a colleague and I were dropped at the river's banks near Spring Hope more than a week ago with little more than a canoe, two paddles and a couple of backpacks full of supplies.

For the next two days, we covered nearly 20 miles of river in our borrowed boat, taking us from the river's upper basin in Nash County into the city of Rocky Mount and out of the city's eastern edge into Edgecombe County.

We did have some help. Though we paddled for nearly eight hours, we were shuttled by truck around the reservoir, and our cell phones were handy in case we got into a bind. To say we were roughing it would be comical.

But braving the elements was not the goal; that would produce only self-amusement. My objective was to detach myself from the growing urban complex of Rocky Mount and experience the area, literally and figuratively, at its roots.

It is only this way – surrounded by the Tar's waters on all sides – that one can truly garner a sense of the river's place in the community outside its banks.

There is more to the Tar River than meets the eye, but what does meet the eye is impressive enough.

As part of the Tar-Pamlico River Basin, the 140-mile waterway cuts a scenic slit through Eastern North Carolina, splintering out into tranquil creeks, swamps and tributaries along its basin that breed a biological Zion.

Swimming in its waters is what is recognized as one of the most diverse collections of freshwater aquatic life found in the state. The basin is home to 14 state or federally endangered species, including the indigenous Tar River Spinymussel, which can be found nowhere else.

"It's always been my favorite river basin," said John Alderman, a former biologist for the N.C. Wildlife Resources Commission, who has studied waterways across the state for more than two decades. "It's been a very important natural resource for the state and the nation. It's just got great diversity."

It's an asset North Carolina is lucky to have.

The vastness of the river was particularly striking to me, a child of the arid American Southwest. There, most sizeable rivers exist only as an illusion, the products of clever land manipulation by the Army Corps of Engineers and U.S. Bureau of Reclamation.

Where I grew up, people pray for water, and it is the lack thereof that provides the context for a spectrum of political and environmental debate. Here, the situation is opposite: Wetlands and waterways are ubiquitous, and abusing them becomes the biggest threat.

Connecting five cities of more than 10,000 residents and hosting more than 750,000 people total (and growing), the Tar-Pamlico basin has felt that challenge supremely.

Urban and built-up land cover on the Tar Pamlico increased by 87,000 acres from 1982 to 1997, while forest land decreased by 57,000 acres, according to the last basinwide water quality plan in 2004. The assessments are conducted every five years by the N.C. Division of Water Quality.

The effects of that development have found their way to the Tar's waterways. Sedimentation from industrial runoff, fertilizers, animal waste and atmospheric sources has infested the river with excessive nutrients, which can pose a serious ecological threat.

Buildup of nitrogen and phosphorous levels can lead to ?fish kills? – localized die-offs of entire populations of aquatic life. Since beginning new investigation procedures in 1996, the water quality division has recorded 81 such instances on the Tar-Pamlico, ranking it third among 13 river basins in the state.

"Almost everything we do, we have the potential of adding increased nutrients to the water system," said Heather Jacobs, riverkeeper for the Tar-Pamlico River Foundation. "The more people you have, the more development that goes on, the more stress on the land."

The impact of development cannot hide itself in Rocky Mount, which has swelled by more than 20,000 people in the past three decades and is second only to Greenville among the fastest growing communities along the Tar.

As we made our way down river, those effects began to unfold before our eyes.

When we first hit the water in Nash County, roughly 20 miles from the city limits, the scene was faultless – quilts of cypress leaves on each side dangling over miles of listless water, broken only by fallen timber and the occasional boater or fisherman.

This is where the Tar River perfects its balancing act: accessible to man, but largely unspoiled by the exploits of modernity.

Yet when we put in at our next stretch below the reservoir near Halifax Road, the contrast was already apparent, and would only become more so as we paddled on.

Tires, abandoned coolers and broken malt liquor bottles started to dot the river's shores. The water was noticeably muckier, having a thickness of sorts.

Above the banks, we could see the direct impact of development along almost every bend. Numerous homeowners had cut their shrubbery down to the point of the river's banks, a violation of state-mandated buffer zones that require 30 feet of separation.

By the time we reached Battle Park, litter was unavoidable. Beer cans were everywhere, and we were able to chart the remainder of our trip by counting the overpasses and stormwater drainage pipes.

Yet as Rocky Mount continues to grow, so too, officials and activists say, does an understanding of how development is threatening the city's waterways. And with that awareness have come efforts to do something about it.

In 1989, the river basin was declared nutrient-sensitive by the N.C. Division of Environmental Management, leading to a comprehensive nutrient management strategy aimed at encouraging more ecologically sound development.

The project is now its third phase, with the last piece of major legislation passed in 2001. Cities along the basin, like Rocky Mount, must follow permitting practices that reduce nitrogen levels in the basin by 30 percent and keep phosphorous levels flat, with farmers held to a similar standard.

Officials say the rules are too new to determine their impact. Research for the Tar-Pamlico's next basinwide water quality report will begin this summer and will be released in 2009, which they say will provide a clearer picture of the river's status.

"The rules are being implemented," said John Huisman, senior environmental specialist for the water quality division. "As far as an actual determination of whether the strategies are working from a water quality standpoint, it's still kind of out there."

In Rocky Mount, new developments are required to produce no more than 4 pounds of nitrogen per acre per year, and no more than four-tenths of a pound of phosphorous. This summer, the city will start requiring development owners to submit annual reports detailing their water quality plans, said Public Works Director Jonathan Boone.

"Water quality is still a new concept for the development community," Boone said. "As the program matures, we'll get better at it."

Others are taking a more grassroots approach.

The Tar River Land Conservancy, established in 2000, is a nonprofit land trust that has has sold more than 9,000 acres worth of conservation easements to landowners in eight counties along the river basin, including Nash and Edgecombe.

Property owners sign a voluntary contract with the conservancy giving them permission to monitor their land and hold them to certain environmental standards. In exchange, they are eligible for tax benefits and other economic incentives.

"Most of the folks who own land in these areas – who've hunted on them, who've canoed in the rivers with their kids – they want to protect this land," said Executive Director Derek Halberg. "We're just tapping into the conservation ethic that is already there."

As we wound around the final bends of our route, the river seemed to blend into its urban surroundings. The sound of running cars above us replaced the squawking birds and friendly chatter of fishermen, and the sense of seclusion I had felt a day earlier was almost gone.

That's the test Rocky Mount faces as it reaches greater levels of development: to incorporate the river into its growth, but to keep it at enough of a distance that its uniqueness isn't spoiled.

If both are possible, it will ensure that the Tar River remains more than just a name on a dozen or so buildings.