It was already scorching hot by the time we got to the arch at 9:15. Luckily, the line wasn’t very long, and we already had tickets, so we didn’t have to wait long in the heat.
Edra and I were both a little nervous about going to the top, and she still hadn’t committed to going, even though we were already in line. On the ticket lady’s advice, she checked out a replica of the archway cars to reassure herself, but I refused to look for the same reason. I’d decided to go up no matter what, and I was afraid if the replica was too small or claustrophobic, I’d back out. I steeled my nerves, wiped off my sweaty palms and pushed on.
Life-size replica of the cars that climb the arch. They put FIVE people in there at a time! The cars were indeed scary!!! They were egg-shaped, tiny, and had a definite space-travel vibe to them. Once the doors closed, the car slowly started rocking up and down, then back and forth. I’d expected a straight-up elevator type ride, but it was more of a slow, steady climb, in an upwardly zig-zag motion. There was a window that opened out to a dusty staircase, presumably used if the rickety egg acted up. I could feel the panic rising, and closed my eyes.
Inside the "egg"A super nice man and his teen aged granddaughter rode up with us. We kept up a nervous chatter to take our minds off the fact that were slowly climbing up a 630 feet metal arch in an egg.
Four minutes later, we arrived at the top. The egg popped open and we entered the viewing area. It was a skinny room with viewing windows and a low ceiling. I’m pretty short, so the room was tall enough for me, but some of the men definitely had to bend down as they walked.
We made it to the top of the arch! This is inside the observation area.There were a lot of people in the little space, and they were just as excited as we were. It was pretty awesome to look out the window and see the view from so high above—I could see our hotel, and the baseball stadium. I also saw the courthouse, and all the downtown buildings. But coolest of all was this shadow, which reminded me that I wasn’t just looking out any old building window:
We moved to the other side, which had a river view. You could see that St. Louis had not been spared the flooding; water rose up over the frontage road, right up to the park. Where there had once been a road, there were now underwater trees.
I’m really glad I ignored my fear and went up there. I didn’t even know you could go to the top of the arch until a couple months ago, but I’m so glad that you can. I would totally recommend going up, the view was spectacular.
Another happy surprise was the National Park museum below the arch, dedicated to Lewis and Clark, who started their expedition to the Pacific Coast in St. Louis. The museum had great exhibits of what they saw, and letters they wrote describing their trip. We’d covered a lot of the trail on our drive to St. Louis, so it was cool to read about the prairies and land we’d just traveled, and how different it all was when Lewis and Clark blazed the path.
Our Lewis and Clark impression--"Go West, young man!"Then it was on to our next destination city, Louisville, KY. Until yesterday, we’d traveled through big states—maybe two states at a time on a really long day. But the states were getting much smaller, and we traveled through them quickly. Our ignorance of geography became embarrassingly apparent today, as we spent the day saying things like, “We’re in Illinois? I thought we were in Indiana!” or “Are you sure we’re even going to Indiana?”
We made a pit stop at a Burger King somewhere in Southern Illinois. It was a little tiny town, just a main street with two intersecting cross roads and a stop light. One older guy walked by with his grandkids, and marveled at our license plate.
“You drove all the way here from California?” he asked, in disbelief. I nodded, and he shook his head, and apologized to me, saying, “Well, we ain’t got nothin’ to show ya here!” He was right; you could turn your head and see the entire town without moving.
We entered Kentucky in the afternoon. It was weird—the minute we crossed the border, we saw shirtless men everywhere. I’m usually a big fan of shirtless men, but these were not the types anyone wanted to see. One beat up old truck passed us by with four—FOUR!—shirtless men crammed into the cab together. I don’t know if they have hillbillies in Kentucky, but if so, we literally saw a whole truckload of them.
The gas stations were also interesting in that you could buy not just gas, but also hunting and fishing licenses inside. And people were certainly buying them—lots of guys in camouflage loitered outside the store. And every good hunter needs a snack—in Kentucky, this was the snack of choice:
Kentucky also marked the final time change for us, to Eastern time. We lost an hour when rolled into Louisville, but it was okay. We’d be in town for two nights—two long, luxurious nights!—so trading one lost hour for a whole day of not driving was a deal.
Our hotel was quite shocking at first. It had two giant towers, each one bigger than any place we’d stayed in the whole trip so far. They were connected by a giant atrium over the street, again probably bigger than our other hotels. And it was filled with teenagers in brightly colored shirts—they were everywhere, attending a Nazarene youth conference. The kids were in big groups all over the hotel—in the lobby, at the elevators, in the hallways, running or texting or jumping on each other. I think we saw more people in the lobby alone than we had seen anywhere else in the country.
The girl at the hotel desk gave us a map and dinner recommendations. Although we were smack dab in the middle of downtown Louisville, it was eerily quiet. The architecture was amazing—lots of old brick buildings with elaborate trim. But they were empty, as were the streets, which should have been teeming with people going home from work. We’d seen a lot of cities that were affected by the recession, but Louisville and its deserted streets seemed especially hard-hit.
The concierge had recommended a barbecue joint, Doc Crow’s. The menu looked good, so we ambled inside to sample the local cuisine.
It was another AMAZING dinner, definitely giving the Kansas City lunch some competition. Edra ordered fried pork rinds as an appetizer, and though Mark was doubtful, he tried and liked them (man, did they gross me out!).
Mark is a little dubious of fried pork rinds...I ordered the smoked turkey, which was heavenly, and Edra ordered shrimp and grits, which was also fantastic. I’m not much of a grits fan, but these were smothered in cheese, and when served with the spicy shrimp, they just melted in your mouth. We also ordered a bunch of side dishes—sweet potato fries, hush puppies, and green beans for Mark, who needed some vegetables. But our good intentions of feeding him something healthy were nixed when the beans arrived, swimming in what tasted like bacon grease (boy, were they good!!).
Happy and full, we returned to the hotel. Mark was itching to get into the swimming pool, the first outdoor pool we’d seen. I was excited, too, because after seeing this picture on the web site, I couldn’t wait to admire that bridge and river view.
What the picture didn’t show, however, was the freeway just below the pool! That’s right, between the pool and that view was an 8-lane freeway, with lots of loud, smelly cars honking and rushing past. So much for a peaceful view!
But I did get a view of one other thing I wasn’t expecting—a lighthouse! That’s right, I kept seeing a flashing light on top of a nearby office building in downtown, nowhere near the water’s edge. I assumed it was an airplane warning light at first, but when I looked again, I could tell it was actually a lighthouse, complete with stripes and a rotating light.
Which just cracked me up, because not only was the lighthouse in the middle of downtown, it was also about 30 stories high on the building. Seemed a funny place to put a lighthouse, but then, after a trip full of jackalopes, corn palaces and statues carved into mountains, I wasn’t sure what was even unusual or weird anymore.
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