Last year, on August 21, 2017, North America got to see a total solar eclipse.
My son made his first solo trip from Las Vegas to St. Louis to be in the path of totality for this rare celestial occurrence.
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| Photo by Roger Lee |
Last summer my son announced he wanted to find a place to
see the solar eclipse in full totality. Since last year’s eclipse was the first
one in 38 years and another won’t occur in North America until
2024, I agreed this was a great idea. Here in Las Vegas, you could only see the
eclipse with special glasses, but there was a swath across the middle of the
country where the eclipse would briefly turn day into night.
I thought about what
a fun trip it would be for the two of us, but August turned out to be a rotten
time for me to travel. Instead, I helped him plan his first trip alone. I mean,
it was time. He’s over 18, and the world awaits.
After checking on air fare to several cities in the path of
full totality, we settled on St. Louis, Missouri.
Next, we had to deal with a few age-related issues. Although
he’s over 18, he’s under 21.
For transportation, we quickly settled on a combination of
public transportation and Uber. Car rental was out of the question because he
doesn’t drive, and even if he did you need to be at least 21 to rent a car.
His first hotel choice was a place that required guests to
be over 21 (no exceptions, he was told by a very unhelpful hotel manager), but
we found a much better deal on Airbnb -- $100 less per night. I also liked the
Airbnb because I thought it was better for him to have a homier place to stay
since he was new to the city and traveling alone. Plus, he could get some insight
from the hosts about St. Louis.
I asked him to write about his first trip, and here’s what
he had to say.
My flight left at 0045
and arrived at 0830, with an hour layover in Minneapolis. The first leg of the
flight was miserable. For the first 30 minutes, I couldn’t figure out how to
recline my chair, and I was afraid to move around too much and accidentally
bump into anyone. After a while I was able to figure out how to get that extra
two degrees I so desperately needed. However, reclining the back of the seat
moved the seat bottom forward, making the situation worse. Essentially it felt
like holding the iron chair position for three hours and forty-five minutes.
He was not impressed
with the Minneapolis airport.
Low drop ceilings, unnaturally humid, whole place smelled
strongly of eggs, not in a good way. Rubbery, unseasoned, microwaved eggs. The
men's bathroom had not been cleaned in 81 days according to the counter next to
the door.
Next, onward to St.
Louis.
My flight into St. Louis wasn't much better. They had a guy
with just a crescent wrench and a pair of pliers fixing something on the plane
right before takeoff, and the intercoms only emitted static. Very comforting
when you're supposed to be flying 10,000 feet up and right before you take off
they have to send in someone who looks more equipped to fix toilets, not
airplanes. However, I lived with only minimal spinal cord injuries.
Upon arrival in St.
Louis, he walked for what felt like a very long distance before finding the
MetroLink train he needed. After successfully boarding his first public
transportation of any kind (in any city), he was underway.
As the train ran along right beside the freeway, I was
feeling pretty good. Then we got to our fist stop. A toothless woman, who was
either old or had a drug problem (I would guess the latter), covered in what
looked like a lot of surgery scars sat down across from me. She immediately
began talking loudly on a cell phone about how stressed she was because she was
trying to sell a bottle to Sarah, but Sarah didn’t show up. Or something like
that. During her conversation, she stood up and sat down repeatedly. After a
few rounds of musical chairs, she settled into what I would call an ambush
crouch. I was very happy to get off the train and find myself in a nice
university campus with bike cops and “no smoking outside” signs.
His Airbnb was in a
historic home, circa 1895, and he was excited to see it. The hosts had agreed
to let him drop his bags off before check-in time so he could go see the
eclipse without his backpack.
I walked to my Airbnb to drop off my bags, but I couldn't
get into the door for the floor with the storage closet. (Turns out it was
actually a push door with a very strong return spring, not a pull door with a
sh*tty handle like I thought. Apparently fire code regulations about which way
doors open weren't around in 1895). I had to get going, so I just took my bag
with me and called an Uber so I could go get some food before heading out to
see the eclipse.
He had lunch at a
place called Cafe Ventana, one of the restaurants recommended in his Airbnb’s
house manual. Then it was off to Jefferson Barracks Park for the eclipse viewing
party.
After a long walk from the Uber drop-off point, I got to the
music and food trucks and found a hillside to sit on for a while.
I eventually
found a spot right next to the stage, where two photographer dudes (PMT Photography) from Boston
were taking pictures of the sun. I asked one man about his camera and we talked
for a minute before I went back to the tree I had staked out. I relaxed until
the eclipse was at about 75% then I moved out into the clearing next to the
photographer. A random group of people gathered--a dude with a lot of tattoos,
a guy and his girlfriend, me, and the photographers. We all watched the eclipse
together.
I headed back to Cafe Ventana for a cup of coffee and to
contemplate what I was going to do next. I sat down in one of their giant,
wonderfully comfortable leather chairs and looked down to discover I had no
watch on my wrist. Immediately, I opened the Uber app and got a hold of the
driver, who turned right back around and brought me my watch. That driver was
one of the nicest people I’ve met.
After some deliberation, I decided to go to Pi Pizzaria. It
was the best pizza I’ve had in my life. I looked out the front windows while I
was eating, and I saw a sedan drive past with a dude sitting on the front
passenger quarter panel, smoking a cigarette and pointing forwards. I wish I
could have gotten a picture.
My room wasn’t quite ready yet, so I dropped off my
left-over pizza at the Airbnb’s fridge and walked over to the Cathedral Basilica. I wandered around their mosaic museum for a while, then went back upstairs
to take pictures of the mosaics on the ceiling, but mass started so I had to
leave. Lucikly, my room was ready by the time I got back.
My modest room had a Murphy bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. It
felt like I was in a Mark Twain novel.
Back at the Airbnb, he
took a shower and watched some YouTube before falling hard asleep. I woke him
up when I called at 8 p.m., and he was too groggy to chat for long.
His plans for the next
day included renting a bike to explore Forest Park and spending some time at
the St. Louis Arch before catching an afternoon flight back home. But, as
happens when you travel, his plans changed.
I woke up at 0630 the next day to heavy rain. I was a little
worried it might affect my flight back home, but the weather cleared up. It did
screw up my bike rental plans, though. So, Plan B. I went to see the Arch.
At the ticket trailer outside the Arch, they told me the
only tickets available were for 1700. I'd be long gone by then. Still cautiously optimistic, I went into the
Arch’s underground visitor center/gift shop. A greeter asked me if I was there
for a ride to the top. I explained that I couldn’t get a ticket, and he said
since I was early, I might be able to still get on since I’d shown up right
after they opened. So I talked to the ticket lady inside, who called the boss,
who apparently said “no.” Plan C was to go to the Arch’s museum, but it was under
construction. So I bought a horrendously overpriced umbrella in the gift shop and walked outside
to see that the rain had stopped for the most part. For a moment I thought
about throwing the umbrella in the Mississippi River, but decided against it
since it was still raining a little bit.
Next, he returned to
the comfy chairs at Cafe Ventana and came up with Plan D: visit the Missouri History Museum in Forest Park.
I took about 500 pictures there, so about 200 in focus. I hung out there as late as I could, and I still didn’t get to see everything in as much detail as I would have liked.
When it was time to leave, I walked around Forest Park for
about fifteen minutes before attempting to call Uber. That’s when my phone
decided to have no service, even after a restart. Luckily, public WiFi is
everywhere now, so I was still able to get an Uber to the airport.
When the hubby and I picked him up later that day, he was
tired and happy to be home. Returning home after an adventure is one of the
best parts of a trip. You’re tired but full of things to share. When you travel
solo, you also feel a sense of victory at having successfully made it there and
back. It’s one of my favorite feelings.
_______________
Did you get to see the eclipse in 2017? Have you ever been
to St. Louis?
Photos in St. Louis and video clip by Cameron
