Gateway to the West

So anyway. Getting to saint Louis was easy; getting a cheap room in the city was not (go figure). I was tired and ready to spend anything, or even go for a hostel with very eerie reviews, but heather and I used an app called "hotel tonight" and found something surprising. Our room wads spacious and even had couches! We ate easy mac with my business cards folded up as makeshift spoons at the coffee table just like we eat dinner at home (minus the cards).

We asked the man at the front desk where we could get milk for the cereal we brought in and he activated a card for us: "room 817 - and feel free to leave some of your pop tarts." Room 817 was for premium guests it had a fridge with milk and a rack of granola bars, etc. We left a couple of our pop tarts in exchange for the milk. I felt very surreptitious.

We walked to the arch the next day. St Louis seemed windier than the windy city, and very quiet. We asked about this and apparently it's normal. Due to its unusual shape, there are very star-trek ish "trolleys" to the top instead of "regular" elevators. And the sound of shifting cables plus the sight of dimly-lit spiral staircases, riveted sheets of metal, and ladders was what I like to call "something else."

Upon arriving at the top, the windows were just like they look like from the bottom, little horizontal rectangles with a big view. While trying to get a meaningful photograph out of one of them, I hear a beckoning to come over and get a picture taken with my sister. And then, the unthinkable. The man asks, "Would you like a picture with your camera?" I pause visibly. There was that one cute kid in Kenya, but normally I don't care for people to use my camera.

One of the ladies with him read my mind. "He's a photographer," she said. I smiled at myself as I handed my baby over and got the first picture of myself (plus my sister) on my memory card for this trip. It was quite a nice photo.

The four people were so pleasant and encouraging about our journey. I hope to see them again someday!

There was also a very cool law enforcement ranger who referred to the first half of our drive through Missouri as "deliverance" country (and then had to explain the movie to us). If the first part was, then I'm pretty sure all of it was, actually. But the people were nice. Two people so far have pulled over and asked if we were okay (which of course we weren't). One man even got out of his car.

The ranger told me that once the museum underneath the arch is finished, it won't be about westward expansion anymore, it'll be about Missouri. And the arch is supposed to be the gateway to the west. Sometimes governmental people have to make decisions and the ones they make don't always make sense.

Also, rangers have to pay for their own oparking (including when there are big games and events in the city and the price goes wayyy up). Ridiculous.

Fellow ranger "deliverance country"

Coming in from our long walk through the blustering walk to the arch (our only stop was a brief stop in the entrance of an old church recommended by a tour book. It was in the entrance while people were exiting with ash on their foreheads that we realized Mardi gras, was, on fact yesterday and today was ash Wednesday. We made a graceful exit and left the full church with beautiful singing behind.), the security guard notifies me, "you've got a little...run...there." - referring to the mascara running down my face.

This is no ordinary mascara. This is IT mascara, innovative technologies mascara, the first to make me feel comfortable without fake eyelashes since I first started wearing those eyelash-destroyers.

I also I have an IT suitcase. Coincidence? I think NOT. Not significant, though.

...And these are no ordinary mascara runs. They are scars from doing battle with the eleven degree wind chill outside. They will be documented forever in the souvenir photo heather and I are bringing home with us.

We get get "concretes" (blizzards) from a stand where you I have to order outside. Ridiculous, right?  The man there tells us about people who pass through driving the route in brand new cars given to them by radio stations for some reason. Guess we missed that boat.

But we didn't miss the boat to the meramec caverns tour. Heather wanted to see it and she wished so hard that even though we arrived significantly past closing time, a very charismatic and knowledgeable man led us on a tour that lasted an hour and 20 minutes. I mean, that's what he said it would be. I wouldn't be surprised if it was two hours. I learned about dolmite, limestone, manganese, iron, expand more. Even a different kind of formation that takes place in stagnant water which was unfamiliar to me.

This man's life story came out slowly. He was an artist and continued from there doing a range of things until a misunderstanding sent him back to Missouri. It was hard for me to understand, but tjhe thought came to mind that everybody's life story makes sense to them.

There was a motel along the way with some history, next to a barbecue place with some authenticity to it. We stayed there. It was a creepy night. I put my coat and the laundry bag up against the cracks in the door to insulate. The front desk lady left right after we checked in and the only other guests left just as we were settling in. It's called in the wagon wheel motel. It has a nice sign and a nice gift shop.

My sister made a recording of my snoring on her phone and played it for me upon my waking. She says it's constant. Her life must be very unpleasant when I am asleep.