St. Louis: June 16-17 "Dirty Deeds"

On Sunday the 17th, we picked up our friend JF from work and our friend PS from his abode and we all rolled south to St. Louis. It's hard to say if that is heading to "the south", or if it's still the Midwest -- similarly to Louisville, people tend to disagree on the matter. What do YOU think?

The open road was feelin' good after such a long hiatus.

Along the way, we paused at a rest stop expecting nothing more than your average building to place your urine inside. However, this rest stop was quite special. Along 55 in Pontiac, Illinois, lies this strange rest oasis... a large children's playground where many gleeful memories were made by little people with bright (or dark) futures ahead of them, and behind the building lives a beautiful bridge over a picturesque river. We decided to rest longer than initially anticipated.

 As we sat and stared wistfully at the river, KG joked "We could kayak it."
CK: "Um, YES. We have an inflatable on the roof for just this type of thing! We can all fit."
 JF: "YES. This is a good idea." KG: "I was actually kidding... but really? Would you want to?"
CK & JF: YES.
PS: "I don't think we can all fit."
We looked at the weight restrictions and KG used his handy calculator watch to verify all of our weight added together was well under the limit. It was.
PS: "This looks very shallow and dirty. I don't even think you can call this a river, it's just a creek. It's far dirtier than the Chicago river even, I'd say -- more pollution from all the chemical toxins the farmers dump in it around this part of the country. Plus, you have no idea what this will look like down stream a bit."
He had logical misgivings. As he probably should have.
KG: "Down stream it will look like Fern Gully! This is a river. I'm a river-guy. You could take this thing all the way to New Orleans. They are natural roads! If it will make you feel better we can look at it downstream on Claire's GPS."
We did, and it looked as a river should. So, we got down the kayak and started to blow it up.

Once we all hopped in, everyone seemed to agree this was the thing to do. Who else is cool enough to throw an inflatable kayak in a river at a rest stop on the fly?

We did encounter a few obstacles along the way -- we barely went down the river and it took us quite a while, what with 4 people in the kayak and the shallow water. And although it may not have contained the level of chemicals PS assumed (or actually it definitely did... KG just informed me he researched it after the fact), we all did get FILTHY. Soaking wet and ohsofilthy. The trees we went under got spiders, webs, thorns, dirt, grub and more all over each of us as we fought to make paths that weren't there. It was a messy ordeal. We all reeked of adventurous sweat and filth instantly, and by the end of the excursion it was enhanced more than you may think.

We returned to the rest stop and discussed how wonderful it would feel to wash up in the bathroom and put on a fresh clothing. As we approached the Scuttlebuss to doll out washcloths and gather new outfits, it came to light that PS had not brought along a change of clothes.

KG responds: "Ah, don't worry. I've got plenty of clothes, you can find something to throw on. You can look like an alternative teenager. I'll even let you wear my underpants. That's friendship."

I went to the bathroom and had myself a "hobo's bath" and felt like a brand new woman. That was quite a level of dirty up on those clothes.

I returned from the bathroom (giving advice on techniques for the most thorough hobo's bath to JF on the way out) to PS standing alone outside the car in his chemical muck river stained clothing with only the addition of a plastic bag tucked into the back of his pants to spare the vehicular upholstery.

Our friend PS is a wonderful person, and one of the most interesting and unique people you could ever meet. He's what good stories are made of, which is one of the highest compliments I can think of. As some of you may meet him one day, I'll allow you to learn his particular brand of fascinating for yourself and only add that he was quite insistent to stay in his own dirty clothes for the remainder of the vacation.

We rolled on. We put "Dick Tracey" in the VHS player and quickly became enraptured by Al Pacino & Warren Beatty.

Because of our long rest, we didn't arrive at JF's brother's house around midnight. We talked to him in his garage man-cave a bit before bedtime. He only had space inside for JF, and PS said he would like to sleep in our front Scuttlebuss seat.. we instead gave him one of our sleeping bags and a pillow and we all attempted sleep. It was the most oppressively hot night in the Scuttlebuss of the entire trip so far, and apparently I somehow slept far better than the other two (the mosquitoes were hungry in addition to the humidity).

The reason for JF & PS joining us for this leg was in part our recommendation of the City Museum -- an adult playground in a giant old warehouse. There are tunnels, a 10 story slide hand made of steel and bolts by the artist, planes hanging in the sky, etc etc. It was exhausting fun, just as we'd remembered.

The roof top of the warehouse has lots of extra goodies on it, and it costs an extra $5. We decided to go for it. However, as we played and played elsewhere, the monsoon rainstorms that seem to follow us across the USA rolled in. Just as we headed to the elevator, we were told the roof was closed due to weather and no, we were not allowed to get a refund.

A bit defeated and certainly drained, it was time to think about getting PS to his bus stop. We left JF playing (he was ignoring the exhaustion that simply must have been nagging somewhere in there) with his brother and meandered down the streets towards the lot our car was in. On the way, the monsoon began. It was the most intense variety, this monsoon. Now PS was soaked again, in the same clothes he'd worn day and night for 48 hours and covered in chemical river muck and about to ride a 6 hour bus back to the city (the city he lives in and abhors). We insisted he reconsider taking some clothes, assuring him we don't care about these clothes and he can burn them afterwards in ritualistic fashion for all we care. He accepted a T-Shirt and insisted he likes wet jeans. We said we hoped he enjoyed himself and he assured us it had all been "perfect".

We once again changed our soiled clothing and picked up the remaining boys at the City Museum. Although we drove as close to the entrance as we could, they were soaked as well. We then got stuck in horrific traffic for an hour, showered and said our goodbyes. 

St. Louis & Friends was not exactly the party we had expected, but it certainly was an adventure.