July 14, 2001
Kansas City, Missouri — Ozora, Missouri
Having covered almost a thousand miles over the past two days, we were running up on the east rather quickly. More quickly than we’d figured when doing the math at the lunch table in high school a thousand years prior. Or so it felt. It wouldn’t take long to reach the Mississippi River, so we needed to make some decisions about which route we’d take to angle back toward Maine. Today was the twenty-seventh day out there in America, and in truth, we were getting a little road weary. But we still had a few tricks up our sleeves.
First, the obvious move, east on I-70 once more, to St. Louis. Apart from the Hoover Dam, and a few other select spots, we’d mostly focused our trip on seeing the nature- and time-created wonders of America. The biggest trees. The deepest canyons. The worst-smelling hot springs. Today we’d visit one of the great man-made structures on earth, the world’s tallest arch, the St. Louis Arch.
Just a few hours brought us through the full width of the state, bookending Missouri, whose two biggest and most famous cities are on opposite ends of the Show Me State. Amusingly for us, the Arch is the known as the Gateway to the West, the land in which we’d just spent three weeks. Not that approaching from the west makes it any less amazing.
The stunning design of the Arch comes thanks to the mid-century master Eero Saarinen, the architect behind Dulles Airport’s sweeping terminal, and the spectacular TWA terminal at JFK Airport. Though the Arch opened six years after his death, he’d designed the incredible structure at the same age I am now, winning the design contest in 1948.
Our sports bad luck continued with the St. Louis Cardinals beating the Detroit Tigers that day, a Saturday, with first pitch at 1:14pm. Making it for the game would’ve required an early start from Kansas City, and money enough to pay admission. We could’ve been among the 47,000 at Busch Stadium that day, and if it’d been an evening game, we probably would’ve gone, but I’m also certain we did not know the schedule ahead of time. It’s not like we had the internet to look it up! As I recall, we got into town as the game was letting out, just to the west of the Arch complex.
There is an observation deck at the apex of the massive arch, 630 feet above the river. We did not go up there, saving our money for a place to stay that evening, and opting instead to enjoy the massive park complex around and under the Arch. We’d spent so much time in the van, covering 1400 miles since we left Bryce Canyon, and sleeping in there each night, that we desperately needed some time to stretch our legs, be outside, and enjoy one of the great engineering marvels this country has ever produced.
Sunny and 85 was just fine for us on a classic summer day. As you can see, blue skies and an afternoon sun reflecting from the apex of the arch made for a memorable day in St. Louis. We ran around, throwing the frisbee, feeling alive again after three days in the van. Back then I could do handstands, and even walk around upside down like that for a bit. I’m grateful for Wes or Win using my camera to prove this, as no one would believe me today.
We were ahead of schedule, as it were, so didn’t feel any pressure to move on quite yet. And we didn’t even know what we wanted to do next anyway. The only things we really had planned were visits to my grandparents in Philadelphia and Wes’ great aunt on Long Island, which could be achieved very directly, or in more circuitous routes. Sitting on the browning summer grass under the Arch, we made our decision, and it involved a big surprise.
Before I get to the surprise, the decision we made involved making a stop in Tennessee the following night, so we had to move south next, down I-55 on the Missouri side of the Mississippi River. Actually, that’s not entirely true, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow for the full reason. First a stop at the gift shop, of course, to purchase the last few postcards and a magnet for my mom. From there we climbed back in the van, took a long, last look at the Arch, and got back on the freeway.
As sunset neared with St. Louis an hour in our rearview, we pulled off at exit 143. That’s the only location description I recorded in my journal for our lodging for the night. Twenty years on I took advantage of the internet to identify the tiny town of Ozora, population 198, as our location. We didn’t know or care where we were at the time, because after four straight nights in the van, we needed showers, air conditioning, and proper beds. And thanks to the sign for the Family Budget Inn, we found all three.
Today it appears this place is an Extended Stay spot and has been other brands in between. It’s both directly behind and across the street from gas stations. On the other side is a field, part of someone’s farm, with a super tall sign saying simply, “GAS.” This was not a fancy stop, but it was a necessary one. What we didn’t know was that the place had an on-site restaurant. And good thing, as there is absolutely nothing else nearby. We invaded the buffet, probably eating more in one sitting than we had over the several previous days. We’d played hard that afternoon at the Arch and were so full after the buffet it was no problem falling asleep, especially in actual beds.
