One of the more random, and therefore enjoyable, things that happened while visiting my first highpoint was getting invited into the home of a couple in Richmond. They knew I was coming into town, and said they had an extra room if I was interested as I made my way to the highpoint of Missouri. Of course, my pride was at stake because I had told everyone that I would be roughing it to the extremes. I didn’t want to be rude, but I knew that the life of an elite climber like me, someone who had just summated the highest point in Indiana at a not so modest elevation gain of “negligible,” as listed by the Highpointer’s Club, could not be pampered.
As I bit into my second brownie with my feet kicked up and my glass of ice cold milk next to me on the table, I decided that maybe the occasional visit back to civilization while on my climbs wasn’t such a bad idea. Rather than sleeping on rocks or in my Jeep, I got my own full size bed with a heated blanket so it wasn’t “to cold when you get in.” As opposed to the burnt oatmeal I usually carefully prepare myself each morning, breakfast was amazing enough to ask for seconds, rather than only eat half and then donate the rest to the local worm population like I usually do.
Then of course, it was insisted that I take some food with me. I am guessing this is probably because I look about as skilled when it comes to culinary as the next ramen noodle connoisseur. I left there well rested, clean, and with a full belly, looking forward to the next highpoint and to my next one-backpacking-pan culinary masterpiece.
On my way to Taum Sauk, the highest point in Missouri, I drove through St. Louis. This brought up an interesting question: Is the St. Louis Arch higher than the geographical highpoint of Missouri? Find out next week.
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