Day Seven

From Nashville to St. Louis

This morning we drove across Northern Tennessee and Southern Kentucky westward toward Illinois, which we would cross to reach St. Louis.  Save for a hundred miles or so of mafioso roadway (of the tick...tick...tick variety, not really serious) it was a pleasant trip, and near noontime we approached the Interstate 24 Bridge across the Ohio River to Illinois:

The Interstate 24 Bridge is a two-span tied arch bridge that carries I-24 across the Ohio River.

There was construction going on, so the lanes were limited and for us the going was a bit slow, but there was construction on the other side, too, and it was much, much worse for the folks going the other way.  A lot of the five-mile backup on the eastbound side was trucks:

The poor devils have a long time to wait.

Finally, The Arch, gateway to the west.  It is the tallest man-made monument in the United States, designed by Eero Saarinen and Hannskarl Bandel in 1947, and being constructed from 1962 to 1965.  I had been to the top of the Arch back in the early 1980's and given my difficulty with tight places, we decided that Mary Frances should take the ride to the top, and I would wait in the museum below.

She took these pictures from the top of The Arch, some 650 feet above St. Louis:

Downtown St. Louis; Busch Stadium to the left.

Straight down onto Route US 44 in St. Louis

Busch Stadium, from the top of The Arch

The Old Courthouse (thank you Marty Grover).

Illinois, across the Mississippi

The Mississippi River, facing east from The Gateway Arch.

In the Westward Expansion Museum beneath The Arch; Eero Saarinen is the man in the center.  The boy watching was just a nice accidental touch.

Mary Frances, safely returned from the top of The Arch.

The Arch, taken by Mary Frances as we walked back to the parking garage.

After we left The Arch, getting out of downtown St. Louis was a challenge, since many of the streets are under construction and it seems that whatever Michelle (our GPS gal, with a pleasant voice and the brain of a gerbil) wanted us to do was impossible.  Eventually, though, we were able to get onto some routes that even Michelle could follow, and find our hotel, a Courtyard by Marriott, southwest of the city.

Since we had a tiny Mac-something-or-other for breakfast and nothing at all for lunch, we wanted a decent dinner and were in the mood for seafood (probably not the wisest idea in the heart of the midwest, but tourists, after all.)  What we found online was the Gulf Shores Restaurant & Grill, only four miles from our hotel, with decent seafood and $3 margaritas.  Michelle got us into a hospital parking lot first, and to a competitive restaurant after that, but eventually we wound up there, and enjoyed fish and shrimp and crab cakes and oysters.

Mary Frances with a three-dollar margarita. 

I guess it's obvious by now that we are senile citizens (in fact, on the drive today from Nashville Mary Frances saw a sign in the window of a car we passed that said:  Caution: Senior Citizens.  Between those folks and us life is a bit scary for other folks on the road.)  I mention this only because we entered this restaurant shortly after 4:00 in the afternoon.

As we left the restaurant Mary Frances was approached by Blues Brother Elwood, but managed to keep her dignity.

Mary Frances and Blue Brother Elwood

Give the old girl credit.  She actually gave the treadmill a workout in the fitness center this evening.  My only threat to a treadmill is unplugging one by accidentally tripping over the cord, but even that is unlikely based on the zero chance of actually being in a fitness room.

We have three days in a row of one night stands, working our way west to see our son in Colorado.  That takes a toll on arthritic joints and laundry, but tomorrow night we expect to see another Triple A game, and day after that, our son Arthur.  So far, this has been a great trip.  Trips with my honey are like that.