Meet me in Saint Louis

One of the stops of our grand tour of the midwest was the famed Saint Louis Arch, the "Gateway to the West." Since we were right across the river in Collinsville, we couldn't very well count ourselves as respectable tourists if we didn't visit the landmark, could we?



So went we did. We were even able to make it out from Collinsville through the brown haze that hung over the area the duration of our stay. The Wife, photographic genius that she is, was able to take the above mind-bending photo, as well as the nifty one below.



No matter how interesting and extensive the associated museum is, however, there just isn't any way to visit the Arch and not go up to the top. It costs a few bucks, but hey, the young'uns will be able to tell their grandkids they went to the top. Who can argue with that logic? Unfortunately, they don't tell you until after you've bought tickets and stood in line for an hour that the Arch was never designed for people to go up to the top. Uh oh. We're led down into a sub-basement level, with staggered steel doors. When they open to disgorge their occupants, you realize that the conveyance to the top amounts to cramped white cable-cars with little pods for seats, an affair which looks like it came right out of Logan's Run. They sway on the way up, as you would expect cable cars to do.



The actual observation deck is a cramped, inverted triangle of carpeting and slot windows. This is not a good place for people with vertigo. I'm not particularly afraid of heights, but my stomach started getting queasy and the heart rate skipped up a couple of notches. The sensation of being 600-plus feet above the ground is unmistakable, particularly when you take into account the fact that the Arch sways in the wind. Not much, mind you. But enough for the paranoia to set in when you remember the bridge spanning the Mississippi collapsed in Minneapolis the day before. So the only thing to do is watch the barge traffic on the river below if you're in the leftmost photo above, or show Orion Busch Stadium in the second, and explain to him that's where he's going to break the Cardinals' hearts on many occasions in the future while playing for the Astros.



So how do you cap such a memorable experience (and one I never, ever hope to repeat)? By accosting a poor, unsuspecting deaf woman and forcing her to take the obligatory family group shot. Looking at this picture, I come to the inescapable conclusion that there are some mighty fetching women in the Blaschke clan.

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