Chapter 21 The Arch to St. Genevieve, Trail Angels, a missed connection

From the Arch I headed south as fast as I could to free myself from the grip of urban sprawl.  The city seems to go on forever.  The guide book tells me this is the grittiest stretch of the MRT and the author is right. It is mostly industrial shops, small businesses, service and supply companies that gradually start to thin our after about 20 miles of furious pedaling. As I noted earlier I have been passing a continuous stream of ubiquitos bright blue cans of Bud Light empties guiding my way for the last 800 miles like a trail of crumbs.

The source of all crumbs.

They lead me to their source, the brewery I now pass by along the way known as the Anheuser-Busch Corporation makers of Budweiser beer.  It is a massive complex. From a previous visit, I know if you take the tour you can down 2 beers in the Biergarten and did so last time I passed through.  This timeI press on determined to reach the outside world.  I spent the night in Arnold, a bedroom community south of St. Louis.  My first attempt to locate a safe tent spot behind the fire station is foiled by a cacophony of barking backyard dogs who detect my  presence.  We end up in a nature preserve that is quite dark, woodsy and much less tenuous. The next day I am travelling through rolling hills and pastures mixed with wooded valleys passing a procession of small towns.  The hills are manageable and rewarded by long downhill stretches.  At the top of one hill I stopped in a roadside park  near the town of Bloomsdale.  I detect that I have snapped two more spokes on my rear wheel (due to weight on it) and need to unload everything, pull the wheel to replace them.  As I am finishing up,  a minivan pulls up with two women and a little girl making sure I (or more importantly Murphy) is OK, have water, need anything. I am pretty sure that having Murphy allays their fears that I am an ax murderer.  They generally don't travel with golden retrievers.  They had seen me struggling up the last hill and wondered if I was in trouble.  My philosophy has wisely evolved to one of always accepting acts of kindness and dispense with the "oh no I couldn't" baloney.  I have learned that in the world of long distance cycling these folks are called "trail angels".  I ask if they could replenish one of my water bottles and they drive off returning a few minutes later with a full bottle, dog treats for Murphy and a complete box dinner of wraps for me that proved to make the difference between eating dry trail mix that night or this feast. Thanks again!  Darkness falls before I reach my goal of the town of St. Genevieve.  I spot a pair of tall water towers on top of a hill along the road that provides a grassy patch for camping.  It's still miserably hot (90's) in the day and I discover I can lean against the wall of steel at the base that is chilled from the massive volume of water it contains. It brings some measure of relief. The next morning we descend "breeze hill" the single longest stretch of downhill I have yet encountered, it goes on for a couple miles flying along with no need to pedal.  I nearly reach St Genevieve without breaking a sweat for once.
My plan was to meet up with my Harley driving  brother-in-law Rocky in this town who lives about an hour away.   Unfortunately, timing does not work out but the town proves to be quite historic being the oldest community in Missouri.

Very Old

Very New

Founded in the early 1700's by French settlers the historic downtown is well preserved and many buildings carry the title of "First ___ west of the Mississippi".  The homes are distinctly french with shuttered windows, low slung roof wrap around porches and unique hewn vertical log construction that are white washed with locally produced lime.  Murphy and I take a walking tour of several and learn about the lives of the prosperous merchants who once lived there.  Eventually, even I reach my history saturation point and head to the town's new community center to rest and refit.  The community center emulates the local french architecture and thankfully has the rarest of commodities available to me-hot showers! It also has a library, water park and work out facilities though I decide to pass on the exercise bicycles.  I spend two nights here tenting hassle free once again with the help of the local constable on a piece of sanctioned city property.

Food for thought in St. Genevieve