Many days of late I have either walked or ridden in Forest Park and then reported various things to you about those trips. Today I have a very very strange and marvelous story to tell( marvelous not in the sense of so good, but marvelous in the etymological sense of like a marvel) .
This is a Dogtown story, but for a fairly long while is doesn't seem to be. Trust me and read on.
I left my house at 9:45 determined not to ride Forest Park (and thus not have a story for today,) but to ride a wider range of places. However, I began in the park and had a lovely ride. So I changed my mind and figured I'll just do my normal ride and go home. I have lots to do. I was nearly home, half way up the hill on Skinker, a very hard hill since it is so long even though it isn't steep. And I realized I just wasn't ready to quit. But, I had already ridden nearly a hour. I turned around, flew down Skinker, rode the full length of Lindell and exited the park at Kingshighway by the Chase Park Plaza. I wound my way down town via St. Louis University (wow, is that an impressive campus now. Tons and tons of very positive changes and their DEVELOPED property now goes all the way east to Compton) and made my first stop (of the entire ride) at 4th and Locust at the Bread Company. I had my coffee and a roll, and read for about an hour.
Next - in this very strange Dogtown story - I rode down to the street in front of the Arch along the river and turned north. I'd been hearing of a bike trail that goes all the way to The Chain of Rocks bridge. It turns out it really doesn't, but it does go to within 1 1/2 miles of the bridge. The last mile and half, which I rode, was a terror since I was riding on Riverview Drive and cars and truckes were whizzing by.
I did get off the bike for only the second time at the bridge and laid down for 30 minutes in the grass listening to the very loud cicadas in a large sycamore I was under. Then I mounted up and rode back. I had plans to exit this trail at St. Louis Avenue and go on up to Crown Candy to have lunch, but there was no place to get off the trail and across the railroad tracks, so I ended up at 2 PM on The Landing.
It was simply jammed packed. It was, of course, an astonishingly beautiful day, and the Cardinals were playing an afternoon game so the place was hopping. I rode over to 2nd St. which is lined with outdoor seating and saw a table, the only one around. I didn't even have the slightest idea what place I was at. It was called Hanrahans I think.
I got off the bike for the third time (planning that the next time I got off would be At 1419 Tamm Ave., my house), and ordered a Schlafly's Pale Ale. I was parched and very hungry.
Now comes the transition to Dogtown, but oh my do I get there by a very odd 5500 mile detour! As I sat, so tired I could hardly read the menu, I realized that the folks at the table next to me were speaking German, but in a strong accent I couldn't identify.
After I order my fish sandwich, I turned to them and asked - in German - what dialect they were speaking, that I spoke Wienerdeutsch (Viennese German). They were simply astonished and identified themselves from Heidelberg. This would be about like getting some one from the heart of the Bronx talking to some one from Savannah before the days of radio and television mainly homogenized English. We were each astonished at the hilarity of each other's German. They with there "ish" for I and me with my "ick" as we say in Vienna. But we were having fun. One of the four spoke a bit of English and wanted to speak it. The other three jumped on him and said: "We've been here for three weeks and never heard another person speaking German, don't you dare speak to him in English." That settled that.
I asked what they were doing here and the turn to Dogtown was made. Blow me over but they came to the U.S. to ride Route 66 from the east coast to the west coast!!!!! And tomorrow they were leaving St. Louis on Chippewa (pronounced by the man as [chip EEEE wah, with the strong accent of the strong EEEEs]. I told them that from 1928-1933 (and I am in no way sure of those dates) that Hwy 66 didn't run on Chippewa which hadn't been built, but on Clayton Ave. and went through my neighborhood, Dogtown.
The leader dove for his bag, pulled out a huge German book on Hwy 66 and within a couple of minutes looked at me as though I was some mystical creature and announced: "He is right. We must drive this Clayton Ave."
About this time I noticed they were drinking this pale looking drink that had the color of that tasteless beer that is brewed here in St. Louis down on South Broadway, so I called over the waitress and ordered us a round of Schlafly's Pale Ale. We got the beers, toasted in Munich beer-hall fashion and they each drank about half the pint in one huge gulp, and one of the women announced: "They really do have been in the United States. I didn't think they had anything but Budweiser-imitators." I was now the real buddy buddy. And the Schlafly Pales Ales kept coming.
My sandwich came and we talked more. I told them about Dogtown, of course, and 66. They wanted a map, and I drew them a detailed map of how to get to Clayton Ave from there (me thinking Clayton Ave where it begins at Oakland, just before Hampton).
They then said: where should we go this afternoon in St. Louis. I said: definitely see "our" route 66, have a Schlafly's at Seamus McDaniels, then go to the boathouse in Forest Park for supper and hear the live music. I drew it all out on my map. The other man was an engineer and good with maps. More Schlafly's arrived.
I had finished my sandwich and was ready for my long ride home. We said our goodbyes and they thanked me profusely.
I rode off. When I got to Euclid I had to make a choice. Normally I enter the park at Lindell and Kingshighway and ride all the way to Skinker on Lindell since the best hill for me to tackle to get home is Skinker. It is the longest, but the least steep.
My only other alternative I use is Oakland. But, I knew St. L U.High had a soccer game and that would have lots of traffic.
But, I wanted something different, so for the first time since my operation back in December (my first knee surgery) I entered the park over near the parking lot of Barnes Hospital, the road that runs between the two lakes, and between Triple A Golf Course and the Aviation Field (where the mounted police station is).
I was just cresting the hill at the entrance of Triple A Golf Course when a horn beeped at me. I see lots of Dogtown folks in the park, so I waved. But, I was simply ASTONISHED to see it was the German tourists!!! Then it dawned on me, I was on CLAYTON AVE. That's what that road is called, and they had found it on the computer of their fancy SUV rental van they are driving cross country. They pulled over. The one woman kept saying this was the handwork of God and her husband said: He's an atheistic philosopher, don't say that or you will drive him away! We had a bunch of laughs right there on the street, but all of us were just overwhelmed at this coincidence.
They had found Clayton Ave. They were headed to Dogtown, but they simply couldn't find this "boat house." I said follow me and off we went. Well I got them there and they simply demanded I have another beer with them. Damn these people can drink!
We got seated at the boat dock. I made reservations for them for dinner at 8 PM and the guy with a bit of English asked if they had that Schlafly's beer. The waiter said there was a special brew just for them it was called Schlafly's Boat House Ale. We ordered 5 of them. Again we did the ceremony of the prost, and they drank about half the pint in that first gulp, and the other guy announces. This is the same beer we had at the other place; the waiter's a liar. Well, of course he was, it's the same beer with a different name.
More beer followed and I'm thinking how in the hell can I ride my bike home. I had gotten them pamphlets on the history of the park and maps (which they have at the boat house and then they asked a million questions about the park, and I led them, me on the bike, them in the van all over the park, ending up leaving them parked at the History Museum and me headed down Lindell for Skinker, up Skinker and home.
I have their cards, and they my address and web address. I am guaranteed free housing in Heidelberg anytime I want to visit. It was really a lot of fun. They invited me to dinner at 8, but my legs were already tightening up, and I am sunburned terribly and I couldn't drink another beer if my life depended on it. So I politely declined. They had already treated me to lunch and paid for those Schlafly's I had ordered for them as my treat!!!! (One of the women said the would have paid ten times more for such a guide!) They were so refreshingly blunt.
I struggled up Skinker and got here at 6:15, having left at 9:45 AM. I am sun burnt to a crisp and rode well over 60 miles today. But dang, what fun. How many times can one get such an experience as that.
One other time St. James had a priest from Germany staying at the rectory while he was studying at ST. Louis U. His parents and his sister came to visit and I gave them a walking tour of Dogtown in German. They were deeply appreciative and took me to lunch at Pat's!
So, there it is. The day where there wasn't going to be a "Dogtown" tale in my daily exercise and it wasn't going to be in the park. I never know how my days are going to go, but certainly this was one of the most fun in a long time. Just so I don't have to drink another beer tonight!!!!!
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