It wasn’t intended as a mini-vacation but last Saturday turned out to be one. My house guests and I had a semi-leisurely breakfast before we set off. The weather still was you-know-where hot. After a spot of shopping, we headed for Pere Marquette Park in Illinois. We were going to have dinner there that night.
I took them downtown on I-44, pointing out the Metrolink train track, the Climatron at the Botanical Gardens (you can see it from I-44) and then out I-70 to Broadway to Riverview Blvd. Of course, north St. Louis which you go through is not very pretty looking with derelict buildings, etc., and prompted questions from Malcolm. But eventually we were on I-270 going across the river into Illinois. We drove to Alton where we stopped for lunch at a KFC.
From Alton we drove to Grafton, IL, where we visited the Tugboat Festival. I had read about this in the newspaper before we left that morning and thought it might be interesting. There was a flea market which Malcolm enjoyed walking through. Then we found the model boat booth and he chatted with some of the guys in there. There were several of the boats (radio controlled ones) being sailed on a pool of water they had made. While we watched, one man did something which caused his boat to belch steam. He then added it to the pool.
A big attraction was a tour of a working tugboat. We had to wait a short while before it was our turn to take the tour. I wasn’t sure I could manage all the stairs up to the bridge. The flights of stairs were short but steep. They were like climbing a carpeted ladder. We got up to the second level where the galley is and saw that plus the “living room” that belonged to the captain of the boat. The cook was in the galley and talked to us about cooking for the crew, what her schedule for getting the meal cooked was, how she got her groceries, how she worked 28 days and then was off 28 days, etc.
Then we had to stand in a hall and wait for an earlier group to move on so we could go upstairs again. I stood it as long as I could but my hips started hurting and I knew I had to get off that boat. Just about the time I started retracing my steps, the group moved on. At that point I wasn’t interested in seeing anything more; I just wanted off. So I found my way downstairs and headed back to the gang plank to get off. I was stopped more than once by one of the tour guides wanting to know where I was going, how I got where I was, etc. Finally they gave in and let me off the boat.
A visit to the restroom facility and a seat in the shade soon had me feeling better. I was invited to take the boat tour by several more people but I stuck to my guns and just waited for Carole and Malcolm to return. Eventually they did and we soon were back in the car headed to Pere Marquette Park. When we reached the park, we decided to visit the Visitor’s Center and see what kind of information about the park we could pick up. The short answer was none because the center wasn’t open. We had a chuckle amongst ourselves as we watched a young woman get out of a car, dash up the stairs and pull on the door which had a big “closed” sign on it.
I then drove the scenic trail through the park. I fell down in my tourist guide duties because I could not identify all the trees which shaded the drive. We stopped at a couple of the overlooks and eventually made our way back to the lodge.
The lodge was built in the years 1933-1938 by the Civilian Conservation Corps. The logs used were huge and the fireplace was built from native stone. We made our way to the dining room and learned that a prime rib buffet would open at 5 p.m. It was about 4:45 then so we went ahead and got a table and looked at the menu to make sure that the buffet was our choice. It was and the food on it was delicious. While we waited, Carole spotted one bride out in the hallway on her way to her reception which must have been in a conference room somewhere.
By the time we finished our meal, the dining room was full of people. There was a birthday party at one long table in one corner. There was a family reunion taking place that weekend which flooded into the room at 6 p.m. At that point we were very glad we had come early because if we had been much later, I’m not sure we would have gotten a table.
Dinner over, we headed back to St. Louis, this time crossing the Mississippi River at Alton on the new Clark Bridge and then the Missouri River on the Lewis bridge. Although I hadn’t planned the day to be a mini-vacation, that’s exactly what it turned out to be. It was enriched by sharing it with dear friends.
