My grandson Eli bent his 6 feet 2 inch body in half to enter the snug capsule with us, his sister Caroline and cousin Sam. The family that travels together got mighty close on our visit to the Gateway Arch in St. Louis.
Before we went, Katie and Henry, the youngest cousins, fearfully shook their heads “No” at the thought of going to the top of the Arch. Approaching the huge legs of the Arch, we all tipped our heads back to look at the slits of windows at the apex of the metal curve.
“We are going up there!” my daughter cheerfully announced.
Katie’s eyes opened wide. She shook her head vigorously. Henry put words to her actions, “Oh, no!” his voice quavered. He shook his head vigorously. “Uh, uh.”
“You are so brave to try something new,” Sharon smiled.
With Aunt Sharon’s encouragement and group mentality marching him forward, he kept moving.
We approached the base of the arch only to find both legs stood over exits. That’s not how I remembered it from a previous visit. We learned that a the new entrance triangulated the two legs. We trekked up the hill so we could go downstairs to the entrance.
A red sign announced that the current risk of Covid mandated masks. We each grabbed a free mask while Sharon picked up tickets for our scheduled trip to the top.
“We have about a half hour. Let’s to the free museum,” Sharon lead her four and my son’s three children to the interactive displays. We stopped at the one depicting the 1849 fire that destroyed 418 buildings around the warehouse district of Saint Louis.
I learned that afterward the city mandated all buildings had to be built of fireproof materials: bricks, steel columns, and concrete. I caught only the briefest glimpse at the history of American Indians and failed treaties when Sharon said, “come one, It’s time to get in line for our ride.”
“Here is your number,” the guide took tickets and handed us sturdy, yellow plastic cards with a bold 7 for five of us and a bold 8 for the rest.
“Go to the circle with your number.” the guide pointed down the concrete lined hallway.
Standing around the 8 circle, I listened to information about the arch and watched short videos reflecting the history and events of the early 1960s during the building of the arch.
“Proceed down to your number on the stairs,” the guide said. Waiting at the closed porthole, projectors flashed information about the towering arch. The cube came, five left, we crawled into the no standing room capsule and sat.
The door slid shut. Squashing five close family members into egg-shaped capsules of The Gateway Arch in St. Louis tested our family togetherness. No standing room for adults. Crawl in and sit. My 6 foot 2 inch grandson, Eli, folded himself in half to enter the short door, sat, looked around and grinned, “Lets rock it back and forth.”
“No!” The rest of us cried. Grandpa, grandma, sister and cousin did not want to swing before, after and certainly not during the 630 feet ride to the top of the Arch.
Tucked snugly in, we felt the gears begin to pull. Forward and then upward, steel cables moved us upward.
The pods’ movement incorporates engineering elements of the Ferris wheel, the elevator and an escalator. No need for our teenage grandchildren to rock the pod, it felt precariously balanced enough as it slides up the legs to the top.
for With a boost, Katie and Henry used their 10 minutes at the top to look out every window.
Afterwards Katie said, referring to the Mississippi River that flows by the Gateway park
Too soon the guide announced we needed to return to our cube for the three minute ride down to the base and the gift shop. We studied the statues made from the steel ropes used for two years on the cubicles and then replaced. We didn’t buy any, but it did reassure us that even rocking the cube would not have threatened our family togetherness.
Instead of a piece of the Arch, we left with couple pieces of fudge to share that evening when we ate at a table with much more room than that cube ever could provide. our allotted 10 minute visit statues. This planned obsolescence guarantees a safe ride that addresses the shenanigans of teenagers who visit the Arch without their grandparents.