All That Jazz.
Iowa, Kansas and Missouri; the only states I'll be backtracking for en route to Philly. I can't fully complete my trip and say I've been to the lower 48 without actually going to them all. So, in true road trip fashion, I zigged and zagged. I didn't spend too much time in Iowa. Most of what I did see was found sightseeing from the drive along The Great River Road, the scenic route that borders the Mississippi River and travels through multiple states. It's green, curvy as hell, and a little hard to follow; after a while I gave up on it. I stopped along my drive in Dubuque, Iowa where the supposed shortest and steepest railroad in the world is fully operational and has been since 1882. The Fourth Street Elevator takes folks from the top of the hill's residential neighborhood right down to the bottom where cute little shops line the street. Gene, the lovely woman running the elevator intrigued by my trip, gave me some pointers on what the best route to Kansas City was from there. I thanked her, paid my $3 round trip fare, and cautiously stepped into the green car. The hill in front of me would have made an amazing sledding hill, I thought. I sat down on the stair seating in the small car as the doors closed behind me and off I went, slow and steady from the top of Dubuque to the bottom. I tried not to move at all in fear it would somehow affect the smoothness of my ride while the second car traveled alongside me from the bottom back to the top to take my place. I kept looking back up the hill and out in front of me at the tops of buildings and the Mississippi, feeling the light jolts of the chain holding me back from suddenly becoming a passenger on a roller coaster from hell. Stepping out into the small area of a few boutiques, I breathed a little easier and came across a watch store with a kind gentlemen who fixed my Minnie Mouse watch and scrounged up a new band to go along with it for no extra charge. Elated and satisfied that I had seen all I wanted to, I got back in the train car and pulled the bell. Going back up was easy having already done it once. I sat back and got semi comfortable.
Iowa, for the most part, is very flat and covered in corn and pumpkins patches ripe for the picking. State parks and campsites are few and far between but I found one in Solon where I met Larry at the town's brewery. An awesome guy and wrestling coach who talked sports with me, I was very glad to have made yet another friend I could think back and smile about on my grand adventure. The drive to Missouri was a bit redundant, the highlight being that I took Gene and Larry's advice to try my luck at Route 30 for a taste of small towns. Tractors are posted on front lawns for sale like old cars and a slight detour south took me past the American Gothic house in Eldon, Iowa. I needed to see something in the state so I figured that was as good a stop as any. I posed awkwardly with my pitchfork and read up about its origins before continuing on my trek to Missouri.
A lot of my stops through Missouri were quirky museums, my favorite kind. Places like the National Toy and Miniature Museum, for example. Everything from art studios, to jewelry stores, to extravagant libraries are housed here and all are made to a scale equivalent to the size of a pea. They're a master artist's diorama that can take years to perfect and it's not hard to see why. It's an impressive showcase of everyday objects standing alone or neatly arranged in a dollhouse and I'll tell you one thing, they must have phenomenal eye sight to be able to work that small. Magnifying glasses hung from the walls for patrons to just view them, let alone model them. Having dabbled in the subject myself, I was overwhelmed at the attention to detail.
City camping gets a little tricky which is what couch surfing is for. Even that is hit or miss sometimes though, it all depends on timing and availability. I know a few people from Kansas City so I figured why not reach out and see if there was anyone I could crash with. No such luck. I found a couch surfer, Jacob, who's couch was just what the doctor ordered after all the car camping I had been doing as of late. Kansas City was covered in brick buildings with its pockets of cool scenes. Different neighborhoods were good for different things, each clearly marked with frequent street signs and, pro tip, Joes BBQ is the place to go. Technically, it's located in Kansas not Missouri, and looks like your average gas station from the outside. I was confused when I pulled up to find an unusually packed parking lot and not many gas pumps in use. Inside is lined with tables and people and it smells like barbecue heaven. Other than just walking around and finding things to see, this colorful city is best viewed from the overlook behind the WWI museum. The tall buildings stack behind one another and front row center, the Union Station building proudly displaying Chiefs banners in between its columns.
I started my tour of KC with a jaunt through the Jazz District at 18th and Vine. Jazz as we know it originated in Kansas City. I stepped into to the American Jazz Museum and was greeted by Ron. A tall, slender, older gentleman with a colorful tie and perfectly tailored grey three piece suit with a swag about him that matched the essence of what I imagine jazz to be. During prohibition, Kansas City had around the clock music to keep people entertained and it set new standards of artistry. The "modern jazz" movement established by Dizzy Gillespe, Kenny Clarke, and Oscar Pettiford played into blues but took it up a notch. Instead of the usual, they added complex melodies, extended chord harmonies, and sped up the tempo. In 1942, Charlie Parker, a KC native, came on the scene and wowed people with his solos that became an integral part Kansas City Jazz. Touching on the stories of the first lady of jazz, Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington, and Louis Armstrong himself, neon replicas of venue signs and interactive audio stations make this place a real treat. It also shares a spotlight, and a building, with the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum. Jackie Robinson got his start on the Kansas City Monarchs and by 1947 was the first black man to play for the MLB. I'm sure you know his story so I won't go into it further. Prior to coming to this museum I didn't even know the league existed. People back then did though. The East vs. West All Star game was the single most important black sporting event in the USA in 1933 when that first game was played. Over 50,000 people were in attendance - more than its MLB counterpart. Pretty impressive, I think. The only downside to exploring on weekdays during fall is that school is back in session. I shared my self guided tour with thirty eleven year olds, half of which were excited to be there, the other half running around bumping into me like I wasn't even there. Occasionally I'd be reading about the five players that went on to play for the MLB, reading quotes of how they all grew up wanting to be a Monarch while the white boys wanted to be a Yankee, how Satchel Page was the highest paid player not because he was the most talented but because he drew the biggest crowds - and a few kids would come up to me and say things like "pretty cool, huh?" The museum had a small scale infield with statues of some of the players at their bases and a theater for the introductory video set up like a stadium with the classic baseball folding seats. The film opened with footage from a game and one of the players began belting out the national anthem. A few lines in, I heard the kids from the field trip start to sing along with him. I don't know why, but that stuck with me.
Big shoutout to my new friend of a friend, Tara, for inviting me to her dance class that I promptly fumbled my way through. I'm rusty, I guess. I laughed to myself every time I missed a step and made up a new one on the spot. Hey, at least I tried. It's more fun when you don't take it too seriously, anyway. Tara, being an avid traveler herself and a local to KC gave me two big tips. The first was to have breakfast at Ladybird Diner in Lawrence, Kansas. I was so excited for breakfast at such an early hour the next morning that I forgot meters existed and came out to find a $5 parking fine on my windshield. I was so full and happy with my delicious breakfast and slice of their famous pie I had grabbed to go that it didn't even phase me. I slipped a five in the envelope and turned it into the city with a note attached that said "The pie was worth it! - G." May as well give those meter maids a little something to smile about since they have one of the more hated jobs that's ever existed. Quote me on that.
St. Louis was a city I enjoyed mostly because of the people I met and the City Museum. A last minute request to couch surf with Josie was the best decision I could have made. Already having committed to another surfer that was currently flying in from D.C., she was almost positive it would be fine for me to stay as well and told me to come by anyway. I was incredibly grateful. An art teacher, a kind soul, and possibly more of a lover for cats than me, we had a lot in common. This became very clear when I immediately put my bags down and headed in the direction of Mischa, the extra large cat staring at me from the bedroom like I had two heads. First thing I'm going to do when I get home is hug Dede for an hour whether she likes it or not, I've already decided. It was a Saturday and I was excited to finally see a city on a weekend. Josie, Valerie, and I drove a little outside of the city to her friends house warming party after trying all the beers at Tapped in her neighborhood and taste testing some toasted raviolis. We chatted about all the cookies taking over the kitchen table and danced like fools to the best of the '90s. It was a blast and the perfect Saturday night.
Last but not least, I promise this is the last thing - the City Museum. This is no museum my friends, it is an adult playground also suitable for children and it was the second tip given to me by Tara. Everyone really needs to go here if you go to St. Louis. Make sure to wear comfortable clothes and sneakers because you're going to want to climb everything. Valerie and I took Sunday to explore the city together while Josie got some work done and while, yes, we did see the arch, roamed around the Grove, and even saw the Chuck Berry statue in the Loop, the museum was a far better use of a few hours. St. Louis is not the safest downtown and surprisingly kind of dead. The best areas actually center around Washington University. Josie had given us a tour of the park the night before. She showed us the view from the art museum overlooking the water and drove us around the "old money" homes of St. Louis. Yet still, the City Museum was the best part. The rules are, there are no rules. Anything that's not blocked off is not off limits. The intricate tile floors depicted animals and trees and the bannisters throughout the museum were rainbow poles that rotated when you ran your hand along them. The stairways were giant dinosaurs and the rooftop playground displayed a prominent and really cool praying mantis. The old shoe factory from the outside looks like a ten story brick warehouse with crazy contraptions extruding from each side. The yellow school bus dangling off the edge of the roof is free to walk the aisles of, if you dare. Tunnels take you to places unknown and a ten story slide awaits those brave enough at the top of the atrium. I was all about this slide. Everything is old school and metal and clearly has been around for a long time. The slide wound around a pole like a spiral staircase and let out into the dark caves far below. At the bottom, I looked up to find the sun shining in from high up above highlighting the many spiral slides and giant pipe organ down the side of the building. Getting the hang of the place, Valerie and I crawled and slid through every opening we could find. We climbed in the cage that hung above a forest and down into the trees, carefully trying not to put too much weight on our knees and the hard metal bars. We dropped down into secret holes in the floor that lead to who knows where, and even tried our luck running on a human size hamster wheel. Wireframe metal tunnels were held by metal wires and dangled above the jungle gym below us. We were practically floating in mid air and I immediately regretted that decision when the structure started shaking and there was nothing I could do but look down. After all that, the slides were still the best part. I crossed my arms like a mummy, tucked my camera into my fanny pack belt, super cool I know, and took off through a rainbow slide whooshing out of the bottom in a matter of seconds. It was a maze of mayhem, wonder, and imagination, and I would love to do that again sometime.
Who's with me?
Meet me in St. Louis.
- G.
The Photo:
The Rainbow Slide.
St. Louis, Missouri.
10/8/17.
