Sunday, June 14, 2020

Tick Tick Toe

So at this point Lydia and I had camped, hiked, ate at, and generally rolled around in 31 Missouri state parks and had not a single scarring, horror movie type experience. Well here we go. We had had so much fun stomping around Missouri up until now that some of our friends were asking about tagging along. So we invited our friends Viry and Lolo to accompany us to St. Joe State Park.


So there's some sort of scam happening where land that has been environmentally abused by industrial corporations ends up turned into parks through some sort of government program(s). St. Joe is an example of this, being a former lead mining facility in Missouri's "Old Lead Belt". Just to the north of the park you can see a town charmingly named Leadington. North of that is Mineral Area College. Missouri is a big lead producer and is home to the largest active primary lead smelter in the United States.


So St. Joe is one of two parks with a big motorsports focus. Their website had this cheery warning concerning the LEAD MINE that we are all playing in:

"Lead tailings in the "Mine Tailings Area" may pose a health risk, especially to children six (6) years of age and under. The more contact a person has with lead, the greater the chance of health effects occurring.  Lead can cause behavioral and developmental problems in children and may have other harmful effects in adults.  Actions you can take to lower your exposure include avoiding or limiting your time in the main tailings area, washing face and hands before eating, and removing as much dust and soil as possible from clothing, equipment and vehicles before leaving the park."




So we're all hiking along a nice trail, minding our own business. There were ticks. More ticks than I have ever seen. I barely recall ever having a tick on me period, and today I even had a couple bite me. There were so many ticks here that they would climb onto my shoes while I was flicking others off. It got to the point where I was sort of hop running through the trail to try to limit my contact with the tick covered grass that covered the poorly cared for trail. Maybe this ticks were imbued with the life giving power of lead. 






These are commonly known as lone star ticks because of the spots on their backs and their Texas accents. This having never happened to me before I made it clear that I believed that this was Viry and Lolo's fault possibly due to their sweet, sweet blood.






Definitely one of the worst hikes of my life and I will never ever return to this dystopia. We're all going to be googling possible Lyme disease side effects for weeks to come.






Most Missouri parks have the plain brown welcome sign that suits serves as a nice standard introduction to the park. Missouri Mines State Historic Site said F that and came up with the best sign ever.


For most of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Missouri was the global leader in lead production, making it strategically important during the Civil War.








Well it was time to make our blood as inhospitable as possible to any remaining ticks via some good old alcohol consumption. Zoe and Emily met up with us there.








So being out in the country where people have a lot of lead in their water, the people at the winery were giving us a lot of stink eye for wearing mouth coverings due to the pandemic. I've heard it joked recently that the real pandemic that America is experiencing is stupidity, so while I was annoyed that these people existed I was happy to serve as a model of human behavior for them.












I got some cool ski gaiters that I was pretty excited about wearing.


Sand Creek Vineyard seemed to be patronized by people that were a degree more literate so I was able to relax a bit more and enjoy myself. This may have been the first time we bought and consumed anything from any on premise establishment since returning from Kenya in March.








Saturday, June 13, 2020

A Very Small Pool Party

Lydia really likes hanging out by pools in the summertime. While the pool we have access to through our apartment building was technically open, we didn't want to risk interacting with other residents or really even want to use the other building's elevator to get there. So I did what anyone would do: I bought a kiddie pool, crawled out my apartment window to the roof of the building next door, and started blowing.


We had some setbacks pretty much immediately. It would have probably taken me hours to blow this thing up with my mouth. I was getting pretty lightheaded which was probably a bad life choice while upon a roof.






Luckily I'm like friggin' MacGyver. I cut a water bottle in half and taped it to a hairdryer. The hairdryer's coldest setting was still pretty hot and so I had to take frequent breaks because the water bottle plastic would begin to melt when it got too hot. Other than that it was a success.


The next hurdle was how to get the pool filled with water. I had bought a hose for this purpose but there wasn't a way to connect it to our kitchen faucet as I had intended. We resorted to taking care of this the most ghetto way possible by filling various containers with water and then dumping them out the window into the pool.




I bought a few of these water cooler jugs full of water early in the apocalypse when I wasn't quite sure just how bad things were going to get. I was still a bit nervous about emptying them but I figured I could just fill them back up with faucet water immediately.






It's amazing how much water weighs and how much this pool could hold. After a ton of manual labor we had like a couple of inches worth of water in the pool. We were tired of lugging it and splashing it all over our apartment, and we also weren't sure how much weight we could put on the roof before the thing collapsed. So whatever. I think Lydia was happy enough with our accomplishment.


On the plus side I think we were pretty safe from any possible drowning incidents.






Later on we strolled around a bit in Lafayette Park and noticed this Thomas Hart Benton statue.

Keen JMAA readers may recognize that name from our recent visit to Thomas Hart Benton Home and Studio State Historic Site in Kansas City. Well the artist Benton was named after his great-uncle Senator Benton seen here.


Senator Benton was one of the two first senators from the newly minted state of Missouri. I'm patiently waiting for the day that the hippies realize that St. Louis' Benton Park neighborhood is named after a slave owning senator who Wikipedia says was "an architect and champion of westward expansion by the United States, a cause that became known as Manifest Destiny." 


You can see he's unfurling a map of North America. Fun fact about Manifest Destiny:

"According to the US Holocaust Memorial Museum Encyclopedia, Adolf Hitler's Lebensraum was the "Manifest Destiny" for Germany's romanticization and imperial conquest of Eastern Europe. Hitler compared Nazi expansion to American expansion westward, saying, “there's only one duty: to Germanize this country [Russia] by the immigration of Germans and to look upon the natives as Redskins."

So yeah this statue is for sure going to get torn down. Enjoy, St. Louis!








Watching businesses, especially bars, try to "reopen" during a pandemic was pretty vile. I felt like I was looking into the dark heart of capitalism.




Thursday, June 11, 2020

Big Ol Elephants

Mastodon State Historic Site was a park where it was a real bummer that we couldn't check out the visitor center. I bet they have some mastodons in there.




This white-marked tussock caterpillar at Mastodon State Historic Site is not quite hairy enough. The site is where we found the first solid evidence of the coexistence of humans and the American mastodon in east North America.