Gateway to the Rest

It's 6:20 PM (7:20 where we're from and 4:20 where we're going.) and we're between St. Louis, MO and our final destination, Trailside RV Park in Grain Valley, MO. Before I get into this blog I'd like to answer a quick question that was asked by multiple people based on my blog about the unwritten rules of RV parks. We didn't learn the rules by screwing up, we researched it prior to be sure we wouldn't be those people. So far I think we've been model RV Park citizens. No air let out of our tires by other disgruntled campers and no complaints.

Ok, back to our regularly scheduled (although not regularly timed) blog. We rolled into St. Louis on fumes and for the first time we were nervous. About 10 miles east of St. Louis on Rt. 70 you can see the arch begin to peek it's pinnacle over the trees and billboards. This was the first thing we really "planned" to see on our trip. I noticed the gas gauge sitting closer to E than the 1/8 mark, but I knew we only had a few miles until we were in a major city which would undoubtedly have gas stations all over. I even confidently passed by 2 or 3 exits with more gas station signs on them than one would know what to do with. This is why gas prices are so high folks! The area just east of St. Louis on Rt. 70 is hording it all! We wound our way around some flat, but pretty ground and eventually came to what appeared to be more of a "city" highway. Lots of exits, multiple highways criss crossing, other major cities on the highway signs and RUSH HOUR. Crap! The gas gauge has a funny way of looking like it wants to kiss the E when you're in a 4 ton hunk of metal which gets less than 10 miles to the gallon and no station in sight.

I'd just seen at least 15 gas stations in the last 8 miles and quickly took the first exit at the mouth of the brake lights making their way toward the Gateway City. There should be a station here and if not, I'll just head the couple of miles back east to the gas station district. The RV comes down the offramp and there is clearly no station around. Actually, I'm not sure we were in a place that really existed. It wasn't pretty, that's for sure. Fine, I make a left and a another to get us heading back to 70 east. I see the sign in the distance where you'd split left for west and right for east. Then I notice the gigantic barricade blocking the eastbound entrance and the detour sign which tells you to get on 70 west. Yep, we're back where we started. Well, not really. We're 2 tenths of a mile further than our initial exit point due to the rush hour traffic now backing up. The arch seems to be laughing at us now.

We make our way through the traffic and stop at the light that is at the foot of the arch. Jennie is taking pictures as we get closer and between shots asks people next to us where the closest gas station might be. Each person tells us they haven't a clue with a sort of "didn't you just come through the middle east of middle America?" look on their faces. A decision is made to stay on 70 out of St. Louis and we'll hopefully find something soon. If not, it seems safer to be on the side of 70 with no gas than in St. Louis proper. 5 miles on the west side of the city we see a 66 station. Phew! We fill up, entertain all of the typical questions we get on the road from other gas filler uppers (how much does it cost to fill that thing? where ya from? where ya going? how many miles to the gallon? your dog likes sitting in the front seat, huh?) and get back onto 70. We'd decided not to stop to go up into the arch because it was still a little too hot to leave the animals in the RV for any period of time without AC.

A few minutes after my blood pressure came back down to normal levels, we were passing through Wentzville, MO. Oddly enough, I know the place. I lived on a farm there in the summer of 1991 and 1992. In my high school years I was a decent baseball player. Not quite as good as my dad thought, but probably better than I gave myself credit for too. I got recruited to play on a baseball team run by Ron Hunt. It was an honor to be asked to play some ball for the first ever NY Mets all-star and the runner up to Pete Rose for the 1963 NL Rookie of the Year award. I think my time with Hunt gave me a little of the no-bullshit attitude I have when it comes to things. Excuses are pointless. Get the job done. I knew the man for less than 24 hours when he stopped my batting practice session to tell me I better learn to hit a curveball or I wouldn't be going far in baseball. I did get much better at hitting a curve over the 2 summers, but I'm blogging from an RV and not getting paid to play so I didn't quite get there. Another piece of my younger years playing out on the asphalt. :)

Tonight should be the earliest we settle into a park. We're less than 100 miles away and the idea of being able to chill for a while rather than just parking>sleeping>waking up>driving sounds great. Juanita seemed very nice when taking our reservation and the place looks good. Maybe we can get in some swimming time before the pool closes for the night.

I just took a look at the MLB scoreboard for the night as the Mets go for their 7th straight win. Down 1-0. Let's Go Mets!

Jimmy