Day 24 Belleville to St. Charles July 3rd

crazy junglegym thing at City Museum in St. Louis (Jovial Ben told us about it)

Over the first Missouri crossing...

cabins in RV park

Big A bus-size trailers





tan lines in Belleville...




ready for the rain!



from the Eads Bridge into St. Louis (there was a crazy man who jumped the fence and ran all over taking pictures up and down the bridge and never said a word to us)



a pleasant end of Day 23....So as it happened we didn't make it to what I incorrectly called Horse Creek S.P. (Horseshoe actually), we did make it to Belleville (only 75+ miles you see) and as there were thunderstorms a'comin' we hustled to a nice little motel in this nice little college town (we're realizing that a school in a town makes a whole lot of difference in the community attitude) and hunkered down for the night.
We strolled down their downtown area to Mosaic cafe where we met Ben, quite a jovial barista who made a fresh pot of coffee for us, served us spinach salads, and gave us a good sense of the St. Louis area, biking, crime, art, and some free ice cream yummy. We are ashamed to say that we then walked down the street to the ice cream parlor for MORE ice cream.

So the next day we were set to get through St. Louis. We were pretty glad as we biked through East St. Louis that we had not made it to Horseshoe SP because unfortunately the descriptions you hear of this place are true, and I was uncomfortable riding through it. Everyone on the roadside was pleasant (even the saddest mangy dog we had ever seen), but the place was an antedote to any good day. None of the cinderblock joints were even in business anymore. Despite my vocal fears, Andy navigated us successfully through the area and we found ourself on the Eads Bridge with a nice view of the Arch. Yay! After stopping to take some pictures we then stopped again to change my, like 7th or 8th flat. I am starting to feel guilty about this!

We rode over to the Arch (we are officially in the West now! although still not halfway across), approached some biking cops (in a training class, they looked far less roadworthy than we felt at that moment), who directed us to Big Sharks (we are looking for maps of the Katy Trail we want to catch). Ate at a diner, Chili Mac's or something, downtown on the way (hotcakes and "eggs in the sauce"- chili eggs). The waitress was like the dictatress of the shop, and her voice nasally boomed across this very crowded joint, which kept our conversation to a minimum. You didn't want to interfere.

St. Louis seems like a very spunky town. Lots of great spaces, some used and some unused and looking ready for a ripening renaissance.

Rode down to Big Shark via Washington, Vandervinter, and Delmar, got a map of the Katy Trail, went across the street to their sister clothing store where we met Lindsey who had just returned from a most invigorating week in Colorado and seemed desperate for another adventure. We thought she was super cool because she actually felt endeared to our pieced together 2ndhand bikes. Bought some new shorts (the first pair had bit the dust). Ate again at a the delicious Chinese Noodle shop (the hot and sour soup we had on the house was fantastic). Our tastebuds were so ready for some new flavors.

Rode down Midland (like West end of Richmond), then Dorsett (strip mall stuff), and hopped onto the trail at Creve Coeur Lake which would meet up with the Katy trail. An older fellow training for his Ironman competition (this guy was hardcore with an Ironman tatooed on his bicep) escorted us kindly down the trail to the Katy's entrance. This may seem unneccessary, but the trail was actually a bit confusing, so we were happy to have the helping hand.

We didn't have much time left in the day and storms were headed our way. We didn't have it in us to get to the campsite about 20 miles down the trail, so we ended up heading back to the very start of the KT trail, St. Charles, for the evening where there was an RV park we hoped to camp in.

After crossing the very full Missouri River, we made our way over the crushed limestone trail to Old St. Charles. A spiffy little city modeled after Colonial Williamsburg, and like it also the first state capital (i hope my history is correct), it unfortunately had no camping either. The RV park (which had the biggest durn RVs we had ever seen) had little cabins but wouldn't allow camping. We weren't so sure we wouldn't mindlessly have gotten run over by an RV anyway. The cabins were fresh and clean, so after checking in, getting a recommendation for the RV park restaurant (named the best restaurant by RV Park magazine apparently), lubing up our chains and taking a shower, we mosied (we should have ridden the mile back into the downtown but we just couldn't stomach it) over to Beefeaters (the RV) restaurant, which was surprising good but expensive and cold, so we split an entree of prime rib au jus which ended up being plenty of food even for two hungry bikers.

After being able to catch up on a few phone calls, but I passed out, book in hand, in bed with an open pack of twizzlers that Andy had brought me.