It has now been 58 days since I left the fictional city of San Franclisco. Beautiful, metropolitan San Franclisco. My intention was to leave Steve's place after breakfast and try to get as far across Indiana as possible. Well, that soon turned into going to watch the local girls' softball all-star team play another playoff caliber team. After that we had to get ice cream, and this turned into that and it was soon 2:00 and I hadn't even packed up yet.
Finally I got everything together and loaded up Penny again. Once again, I felt the mixed pangs of wanting to stay with my friends longer and relax in comfort and the desire to draw myself ever closer to home. Once again, the road won. I talked to my friend Ben, with whom I would stay in Fort Wayne, near the Ohio border. Ben had contacted someone he knew at the local news station. I got a call from one of the producers who wanted to set up a time when I would be in Fort Wayne that I could be interviewed about my trip. I gave her a tentative time that I though I would make it, but said it would be best to contact me Sunday morning, when I'll have a better idea of when I'd hit the city 180 miles away.
Headed down the shaded but nearly shoulderless rural Illinois highway, I go south then swing east. It takes less than two and a half hours for me to traverse the 41 miles between Wilmington and the Indiana boarder. Again at this state line, there is no grand sign welcoming me to this most virtuous of states, just a small green rectangle notifying me of the county I was entering. Shrug. Maybe Indiana isn't the most virtuous state. The shoulder was only a couple feet wide here, and the heavy truck traffic picked up.
After a couple dozen miles of this, I turned off onto a single lane road that shot between corn fields. Going down the nearly empty road without shoulders, I took a break at a small bridge over a creek. Looking at the time and the map, I wanted to cover another 30 miles to get to the Tippecanoe State Park, where I could camp. At this point though, it is already after 7:00 and in less than two hours it will be dark. I quickly ate and then set out again.
I passed through more fields and small towns, covering miles, but not quite keeping the pace that I would need to make it to the park. There were a number of farmhouses I passed where I suddenly found myself being chased by dogs. None of them ended up catching me. As the sun set, I was still nearly 10 miles away from the park. Eventually, I saw a brightly lit sign in the distance that at first I took for a restaurant. As I had not had a real meal since breakfast, I thought that I should get a bite then continue in the dark to the park. As I got to it though, I could see that this structure was a church. Despite being 9pm on a Saturday, I could see that there were lights on in the building. I went around, trying to see if there was an unlocked door, and when I came around to the back, I found a janitor who was taking the trash out. I asked if it would be a problem for me to set up camp in a corner of the yard somewhere. He nodded and said it would be fine, so I set up off the back of the unpaved parking lot, between a small playground and the fence marking the boundary of a cornfield.
I sprayed myself down with insect repellent and pulled out one of my freeze-dried backpacker meals. Just add 2 cups of boiling water and wait 13 minutes and the food miraculously reconstituted itself into something that tasted more or less like the lasagna it promised. It was nice to have a hearty, hot meal and watch the fireflies flicker in the expanding darkness. There were sounds of fireworks in the distance, though I was never able to see any.
Day 58, Wilmington, IL - Bethel Churchyard Camp, West of Winamac, IN
92.2 miles in 6:53:47. Totals: 3527.7 miles in 276:51:49 and a high speed of 25.0 mph
Showing posts with label illinois. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illinois. Show all posts
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Mile 3435.5 - A little further down the line
Day 57 started with too little sleep. Mom wanted to have breakfast with me before she had to start work, so we went out to Dean's Cafe, near my mom's work. Breakfast was good, but I wouldn't have minded another hour of sleep. It's hard to get sleep in that house. My older brother drove me back to my parents' place where I packed up and loaded the bike. It was good to get back on the road.
I started on the Lily Cache Bike Trail, took the connecting trial past the new high school out to the Remington sports complex. From there I took Vetran's Parkway out to Romeoville. I pulled up in front of RC Hill, the elementary school I attended from 2-5th grades. As I came up to the main doors, the odometer on my gps hit 3400 miles. I had noticed that my tires needed more air, so I stopped at one of the gas stations nearby. The compressed air machine wanted a dollar in quarters, so I went in to get change. The station attendant nicely offered to just turn the air machine on for me. That was great. I'll prefer my air to be free.
A couple miles from my old school is the Illinois and Michigan canal. This canal was historically significant as it was the link that connected the Atlantic through the great lakes to the Mississippi river and thus the Gulf of Mexico. For the first time, goods from new england could cheaply be shipped to the midwest and south. Though supplanted by the railroads within 50 years of its completion, the I & M Canal is largely responsible for making an obscure town called Chicago into one of the world's great cities. Though the canal and it's locks no longer ship goods, there is a bike trail that follows the old towpath from Romeoville 68 miles south to the Illinois River at Peru. I wasn't going that far today, though at some point, I would like to take it from end to end. I took it instead only as far as Joliet, The City of Steel and Stone.
Coming into Joliet, I passed the ruins of what was once one of the greatest foundries in North America. Massive masonry skeletons remain of the once huge complex. I poked around a little in one of the former smelting plants, a building as long as a football stadium. I the crossed into the bulk of the city. Coming into downtown Joliet, I passed the Rialto Theater, site of several field trips in grade school. The next block beyond the theater was closed to auto traffic for a farmers' market. I stopped at one booth to get some cherries. Mmm, cherries.
After a slight misdirection caused by the need to detour around the rest of the farmers' market, I came to the southeastern corner of the city and picked up the Wauponosee Glacial Trail. This is yet another former rail line turned into a recreational trail. I passed through farmland and prairies. At one point there was a marker noting that the regular hills to the west were not natural hills, but storehouses from the old Joliet munitions plant. Much of the prairie land there was turned into farmland, and only in the last couple decades has interest grown enough to try to recover some of this lost grassland.
There was one point, in the town of Manhattan, that the trail actually passes the local railroad station. If I lived in Manhattan and worked in Chicago or Joliet, I would not need a car. I would be able to ride my bike to the train in the morning and in the evening, get to enjoy the picturesque scenery of the trail on the ride home. Much better than sitting in traffic on 55.
A little further down the trail, I stopped to take a break on a bench and watch a farmer plow his field in the warm sun.
Eventually I hit Kahler Rd, and swung left to get into Wilmington. In Wilmington is Steve, one of my best friends growing up. Steve was waiting out on his porch with his father who had come by to spend time with his grandchildren. Actually, just his grandson Gavin, as Chloe, Steve's daughter, was away at a slumber party at a friend's place. That's too bad because I was looking forward to seeing Chloe again. Steve's brother Matt was also there, and I arrived near the beginning of the Cubs-White Sox game. The Cubs didn't do so well in the game.
They asked what I wanted to do, and I expressed interest in going to a Joliet Jackhammers game, as they were in town tonight. Matt managed to score free tickets with a single phone call. This is now the secons game Matt has gotten me into for free, the other being rooftop seats at Wrigley last summer. The game was ok, then we got back and stayed up pretty late with his wife Kristina, Gavin and Matt playing Guitar Hero. It was a good afternoon spent with good friends, yet when I went to bed, I could hear the road calling me.
Day 57, Bolingbrook, IL - Wilmington, IL
40.82 miles in 3:37:41. Now a total of 3435.52 miles in 267:58:02 and a high speed of 30.2 mph.
I started on the Lily Cache Bike Trail, took the connecting trial past the new high school out to the Remington sports complex. From there I took Vetran's Parkway out to Romeoville. I pulled up in front of RC Hill, the elementary school I attended from 2-5th grades. As I came up to the main doors, the odometer on my gps hit 3400 miles. I had noticed that my tires needed more air, so I stopped at one of the gas stations nearby. The compressed air machine wanted a dollar in quarters, so I went in to get change. The station attendant nicely offered to just turn the air machine on for me. That was great. I'll prefer my air to be free.
A couple miles from my old school is the Illinois and Michigan canal. This canal was historically significant as it was the link that connected the Atlantic through the great lakes to the Mississippi river and thus the Gulf of Mexico. For the first time, goods from new england could cheaply be shipped to the midwest and south. Though supplanted by the railroads within 50 years of its completion, the I & M Canal is largely responsible for making an obscure town called Chicago into one of the world's great cities. Though the canal and it's locks no longer ship goods, there is a bike trail that follows the old towpath from Romeoville 68 miles south to the Illinois River at Peru. I wasn't going that far today, though at some point, I would like to take it from end to end. I took it instead only as far as Joliet, The City of Steel and Stone.
Coming into Joliet, I passed the ruins of what was once one of the greatest foundries in North America. Massive masonry skeletons remain of the once huge complex. I poked around a little in one of the former smelting plants, a building as long as a football stadium. I the crossed into the bulk of the city. Coming into downtown Joliet, I passed the Rialto Theater, site of several field trips in grade school. The next block beyond the theater was closed to auto traffic for a farmers' market. I stopped at one booth to get some cherries. Mmm, cherries.
After a slight misdirection caused by the need to detour around the rest of the farmers' market, I came to the southeastern corner of the city and picked up the Wauponosee Glacial Trail. This is yet another former rail line turned into a recreational trail. I passed through farmland and prairies. At one point there was a marker noting that the regular hills to the west were not natural hills, but storehouses from the old Joliet munitions plant. Much of the prairie land there was turned into farmland, and only in the last couple decades has interest grown enough to try to recover some of this lost grassland.
There was one point, in the town of Manhattan, that the trail actually passes the local railroad station. If I lived in Manhattan and worked in Chicago or Joliet, I would not need a car. I would be able to ride my bike to the train in the morning and in the evening, get to enjoy the picturesque scenery of the trail on the ride home. Much better than sitting in traffic on 55.
A little further down the trail, I stopped to take a break on a bench and watch a farmer plow his field in the warm sun.
Eventually I hit Kahler Rd, and swung left to get into Wilmington. In Wilmington is Steve, one of my best friends growing up. Steve was waiting out on his porch with his father who had come by to spend time with his grandchildren. Actually, just his grandson Gavin, as Chloe, Steve's daughter, was away at a slumber party at a friend's place. That's too bad because I was looking forward to seeing Chloe again. Steve's brother Matt was also there, and I arrived near the beginning of the Cubs-White Sox game. The Cubs didn't do so well in the game.
They asked what I wanted to do, and I expressed interest in going to a Joliet Jackhammers game, as they were in town tonight. Matt managed to score free tickets with a single phone call. This is now the secons game Matt has gotten me into for free, the other being rooftop seats at Wrigley last summer. The game was ok, then we got back and stayed up pretty late with his wife Kristina, Gavin and Matt playing Guitar Hero. It was a good afternoon spent with good friends, yet when I went to bed, I could hear the road calling me.
Day 57, Bolingbrook, IL - Wilmington, IL
40.82 miles in 3:37:41. Now a total of 3435.52 miles in 267:58:02 and a high speed of 30.2 mph.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Mile 3394.7 - Home again
Days 55 and 56 were spent at my parents' house. After spending much of the morning hanging out with my family, I wanted to take a ride. There are a number of bike paths that have been built in the 15 years since I lived there last. There is one that I frequently ride on that goes along side the nearby Lily Cache Creek that I used to play around. I wanted to see if there was some way to get from my parents' house to my mom's work using a route that my mom might actually be willing to ride on. The problem I found was that the individual segments of bike trail throughout the town didn't seem to connect to each other. At some point, my mom would have to cross Illinois Route 53, basically a 4-6 lane highway that runs through the east part of the village. While I had no problem taking a lane at the stop light, heading up a line of cars behind me, there is no way my mom would ever possibly cross like that. What Bolingbrook needs to do is build a bike/pedestrian overpass, but who knows if that is ever going to happen. Disappointed, I headed back home.
My mom asked where I wanted to go for dinner, and I wanted Gino's East. Their deep dish pizza is my favorite and there is nothing in New York that compares. Since my friend and training partner Lisa was in Chicago, we decided to meet at the Gino's in Wheaton, a block away from the train station. My parents and I went to see a movie then drove the little way to the Wheaton train station. During the movie, a thunderstorm had rolled through. In Wheaton, it knocked out power in a four block radius around the train station. Unfortunately, this meant the restaurant was not able to turn on their ovens. Also, there was a tornado warning in Oak Park, right where Lisa's train had come to a stop. In fact, all metra trains on that line had been brought to a stand still. After an hour and a half of waiting, the trains started moving again. Then the power came back on. By the time Lisa arrived, the restaurant was open. As it turned out, we were the first customers in and the last customers out that evening. The pizza was worth it.
Pretty much the rest of these two days were spent hanging out and eating with my family. Day 56, I didn't even really get on the bike, though I did spend a good hour cleaning and maintaining. I did, however, spend a decent amount of time in my favorite tree. There's a maple in my parents' front yard that is absolutely perfect for climbing. Five feet off the ground, the trunk breaks off into four large branches, leaving a perfect seat in the middle.
Not much else to report here, so I'll move on to the next day.
Days 55 & 56, Bolingbrook, IL
11.3 miles in 23:05 for 3394.7 miles in 276:20:21 and a high speed of 19.3 mph
My mom asked where I wanted to go for dinner, and I wanted Gino's East. Their deep dish pizza is my favorite and there is nothing in New York that compares. Since my friend and training partner Lisa was in Chicago, we decided to meet at the Gino's in Wheaton, a block away from the train station. My parents and I went to see a movie then drove the little way to the Wheaton train station. During the movie, a thunderstorm had rolled through. In Wheaton, it knocked out power in a four block radius around the train station. Unfortunately, this meant the restaurant was not able to turn on their ovens. Also, there was a tornado warning in Oak Park, right where Lisa's train had come to a stop. In fact, all metra trains on that line had been brought to a stand still. After an hour and a half of waiting, the trains started moving again. Then the power came back on. By the time Lisa arrived, the restaurant was open. As it turned out, we were the first customers in and the last customers out that evening. The pizza was worth it.
Pretty much the rest of these two days were spent hanging out and eating with my family. Day 56, I didn't even really get on the bike, though I did spend a good hour cleaning and maintaining. I did, however, spend a decent amount of time in my favorite tree. There's a maple in my parents' front yard that is absolutely perfect for climbing. Five feet off the ground, the trunk breaks off into four large branches, leaving a perfect seat in the middle.
Not much else to report here, so I'll move on to the next day.
Days 55 & 56, Bolingbrook, IL
11.3 miles in 23:05 for 3394.7 miles in 276:20:21 and a high speed of 19.3 mph
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Mile 3385.4 – Return to suburbia
When I woke up, much of the tent was still damp. Piece by piece, I started pulling things out of the tent and onto the picnic table nearby. During this process, another camper, Roger, came by seeing that I had only a bike with me. We talked while I packed and ate some cold breakfast. Dan had warned me that the same weather pattern that came through last night was queuing up to hit again in the evening. Since I was going to be racing the weather’s clock, I wanted to get a quick start to the morning. So no oatmeal. Anyway, Roger and I talked for some time, telling each other stories of cycling. Always a good way to start the morning.
Walking from my tent to the bathroom I had hidden out in the night before, I didn’t see any branches downed. Other than some shallow puddles that would be gone by noon, there seemed to be no lasting effect of the heavy storms. I got on my bike and headed down 67. Just past Lake Geneva is a town called Genoa City which lies on the Wisconsin/Illinois boarder. At the line began the McHenry County Trail which would take me to the Fox River Trail and then to the Illinois Prairie Path. This presumably would get me quite close to Bolingbrook, where my parents live. But first, I need to get out of Wisconsin.
Gathered up for the morning, I started to ride south. On the highway I could see the already cleared remnants of downed branches. A few miles further south of where my tent was standing, I entered the town of Eagle. As I came in, I immediately noticed the large police presence in town. I climbed a small hill that highway 67 goes up, but was stopped near the middle of the hill by a policewoman leaning against her patrol car. Apparently, the tornado that I hid from in the bathroom with a frog had ripped through the town not five miles away.
I would again like to take a moment to thank Dan and Dave back in the lab, my personal weather team, for the heads up. I would also like to thank Hermes, protector of travelers, for diverting the worst of the storm away from me. Sorry to all the people whose homes were damaged or destroyed because of it.
The tornado had damaged around 110 houses, but there were no reported injuries. That is very good. The cop told me that there were trees and power lines down across 67 through town, and told me of an alternate way to get back to 67 around town. I took 54 to County S. On this county road there were crews clearing branches from the road and shoulders. I came to a long white fence that looked good except for the half dozen places it was broken by tree. A little way out of town I stopped in at a breakfast joint. On the tv, they were showing the live helicopter view of the wreckage. It was surprisingly close to where my insubstantial little tent was standing when the storm hit. If the storm could level houses, my tent would have been blown halfway to Ohio.
Thanks again, Hermes. I appreciate it.
Further along, I had some examples of bad shoulder to ride on. I went through the resortish town of Lake Geneva, known for quality of the lake, the good food and the Sugar Shack, a club just north of town that has two floors, one of the ladies and one for the gentlemen. If by that description, you still don’t know what goes on there, let me just say it’s a bingo hall. I passed Ryan Braun’s restaurant and a Gino’s East I never knew existed. It was not long after that I came into Genoa City and, not being a very large town, I soon got to the connection to the McHenry County Trail.
The only sign that I had just gone from one state to another was the marker for north bound travelers announcing the end of the McHenry County Prairie Trail. I was in Illinois long enough to read the sign and didn’t even know it. On the route I have chosen, it took me 270:32:25 of riding to cross into Illinois.
The top seven miles of the trail is the old railroad ballast and gravel. It was easy but slow, but in the parts between the trees, the views that opened were quite pretty. All along the trail were groups of workers removing all the fallen debris from last night’s storm. I thanked them as I rode by. I took a break at a little picnic area off the trail in the heart of Glacial Park. This used to be one of the richest waterfowl habitats in the Midwest until agriculture, houses and dams changed much of the landscape. I could make out some herons on the edge of a pond, but they were too far to come out with the camera.
Then a few miles before the town of McHenry, the trail turned paved. I picked up several miles an hour immediately. The rail bed pitch was still relatively flat, so I quickly made it through McHenry and into Crystal Lake. Coming into Crystal Lake is the one bit of this trail that is not railroad grade, as it goes through Sterne’s Woods. All of a sudden I felt like I was on a mountain bike trail in North Carolina, except it was still paved. There were several steep, close inclines that curved at the bottom, so you had to go pretty slow down or risk the blind crash around the corner. Then the woods opened up and there was a pair of hills that looked like it was originally designed for a roller coaster. A few cranks down, and I let gravity pull me to 33.8mph as I got to the bottom. You had to keep as much momentum as possible because what came next I consider an advanced hill. It isn’t expert, it’s not going to kill you, but if you try it unprepared, you’re going to be walking up to the top. After that crest there was a short dip then a turn back into the woods where the small hill with curve motif resumed.
In Algonquin, the trail crossed a street and became the Fox River Trail. Between Algonquin and Elgin, the trail ran along an active railroad track, each trying to sneak in closer to the river. At one point I was passed by a young guy in an orange shirt. At a light not too far along, I closed in on him again, then passed him when he stopped to tell a cyclist walking his bike that he wasn’t far from the bike shop. By now I was holding a steady 19mph pace, so it took him a bit to catch up with me again. When he did he asked if I was doing some sort of cross country thing. I told him about it and he said ‘That’s the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard’. We stopped and I gave him my card. Conrad is a high school sophomore that was riding a nicer bike than the one I had when I was that age. But then, I am riding a nicer one now, so I guess that’s moot. We rode together for probably 7 or 8 miles, weaving in and out of all of the other traffic on the path that was going slower than us. It doesn’t seem like it would be hard to convince him to ride across the country, though he said he’d at least wait until he had his driver’s license, just in case of emergency. Maybe next time I go across, when I’m looking for two other people to travel with… Several miles past when he would have otherwise turned around, he finally had to go back, but it was another person on the trip that I’m glad I met and got to talk to for a while. Keep riding, man.
In Elgin, I encountered a problem. There was construction ahead and a bike path detour. I rolled my eyes but accepted it. I passed a fountain made of water jets set into the ground. Dozens of children were playing in the massive public sprinkler they had set up there. At the river, people were fishing, strolling, cycling, or just sitting on a bench watching the scene.
I crossed under the highway 20 bridge and the woods started again. Not far into it, a long segment of the Fox River Trail was closed off for construction. I don’t know whose bright idea it is to close the bike path from the beginning of June to the end of July. That is possibly the worst pair of months to close a bike path, possibly behind May/June.
But right there was my connection to the Illinois Prairie Path which would send me back down into Wheaton. I was riding along and burst out of some trees when suddenly the path ended at a road that was quite clearly being constructed. I had to lift my 70lb bike up the foot thick concrete, watching out for the several inches of rebar hanging out the side. Crossing the dirt median, I had to lower then raise her again. By riding along the edge of the construction, I got onto a real road, but was told I had to detour to get to the next segment of bike path. Army Trail Road has no shoulder along here, but plenty of traffic, so it was a joy to ride along. I finally got back onto the path in Bartlett.
There was one point where the Prairie path splits off and the signage is confusing, but I managed to find the right part. That part of the patht goes south east through a forest to County Farm Road. At the end of County Farm Road in Wheaton is the high school I went to, but I did not visit it. At a stop light, the trail continued diagonally across the intersection. While a pair of girls on bikes were waiting, I crossed the direction I could. Then, as the light I needed turned green, I started and saw a young punk on a mountain bike speed past the girls and shoot across the intersection. Ok, punk, you’re on. I don’t think it even took 100 yards for me to pass him, again setting a steady 19-20 mph pace. Up to the challenge, he kept pace, steering clear of foot and bike traffic in both directions. About three miles later, the path dumped onto a road. I could hear him say ‘damn’ as we came out. I saw an orange detour sign and swore. I hadn’t been in Illinois 4 hours and I had already had it with the construction. That was what got Justin and me talking. I asked about the detour and we rode several blocks together to the Wheaton train station, where his route split off. I did not know it then, but this very corner would play a big role in my day almost exactly 24 hours later.
From there, Dan had me routed south for a while before resuming east and going through downtown Naperville. I took the more direct and difficult way home. Thus I started to piss off drivers in Wheaton and Naperville. I composed a song, ‘The Reasons I Hate Naperville’ and it was not very complimentary. One guy yelled at me to ride on the sidewalk and called me a name that I’m sure he’s been called before. I invited him to pull over so we could discuss his proposition, but he declined and the car pace was just faster than I could keep up with having already logged 100 miles on the day. It’s a shame, really. I felt like we had a lot to discuss. I was going about 20 at the time, and I want to know what part of a cyclist doing 20 miles per hour on a sidewalk sounds safe. If the counter argument is made that I should then ride slower for the pedestrians, then I suggest that he drive slower for me. That and I may have wanted to give the guy a good close look at my knee, but I digress.
Eventually, I made it back to my parents’ place. Most of the people who lived on the block from when I lived here last are gone, with the marked example of my parents’ two immediate neighbors. The three consecutive homes have housed the same families for at least 29 years. Rolling down the block, I listed off in my head as best I could remember who used to live in each house. I got to my parents’ place and there, patient as always in the front yard, is my favorite tree. It was a perfect height for climbing then, and as we have both grown a bit in the subsequent years, it is still the perfect height for me to clamor into. No trip to my parents’ is complete without a climb into the tree.
Day 54, Kettle-Moraine State Park, WI - Bolingbrook, IL
110.6 miles in 8:20:05. Now 3285.4 miles in 275:57:16 and a high speed of 33.8
Walking from my tent to the bathroom I had hidden out in the night before, I didn’t see any branches downed. Other than some shallow puddles that would be gone by noon, there seemed to be no lasting effect of the heavy storms. I got on my bike and headed down 67. Just past Lake Geneva is a town called Genoa City which lies on the Wisconsin/Illinois boarder. At the line began the McHenry County Trail which would take me to the Fox River Trail and then to the Illinois Prairie Path. This presumably would get me quite close to Bolingbrook, where my parents live. But first, I need to get out of Wisconsin.
Gathered up for the morning, I started to ride south. On the highway I could see the already cleared remnants of downed branches. A few miles further south of where my tent was standing, I entered the town of Eagle. As I came in, I immediately noticed the large police presence in town. I climbed a small hill that highway 67 goes up, but was stopped near the middle of the hill by a policewoman leaning against her patrol car. Apparently, the tornado that I hid from in the bathroom with a frog had ripped through the town not five miles away.
I would again like to take a moment to thank Dan and Dave back in the lab, my personal weather team, for the heads up. I would also like to thank Hermes, protector of travelers, for diverting the worst of the storm away from me. Sorry to all the people whose homes were damaged or destroyed because of it.
The tornado had damaged around 110 houses, but there were no reported injuries. That is very good. The cop told me that there were trees and power lines down across 67 through town, and told me of an alternate way to get back to 67 around town. I took 54 to County S. On this county road there were crews clearing branches from the road and shoulders. I came to a long white fence that looked good except for the half dozen places it was broken by tree. A little way out of town I stopped in at a breakfast joint. On the tv, they were showing the live helicopter view of the wreckage. It was surprisingly close to where my insubstantial little tent was standing when the storm hit. If the storm could level houses, my tent would have been blown halfway to Ohio.
Thanks again, Hermes. I appreciate it.
Further along, I had some examples of bad shoulder to ride on. I went through the resortish town of Lake Geneva, known for quality of the lake, the good food and the Sugar Shack, a club just north of town that has two floors, one of the ladies and one for the gentlemen. If by that description, you still don’t know what goes on there, let me just say it’s a bingo hall. I passed Ryan Braun’s restaurant and a Gino’s East I never knew existed. It was not long after that I came into Genoa City and, not being a very large town, I soon got to the connection to the McHenry County Trail.
The only sign that I had just gone from one state to another was the marker for north bound travelers announcing the end of the McHenry County Prairie Trail. I was in Illinois long enough to read the sign and didn’t even know it. On the route I have chosen, it took me 270:32:25 of riding to cross into Illinois.
The top seven miles of the trail is the old railroad ballast and gravel. It was easy but slow, but in the parts between the trees, the views that opened were quite pretty. All along the trail were groups of workers removing all the fallen debris from last night’s storm. I thanked them as I rode by. I took a break at a little picnic area off the trail in the heart of Glacial Park. This used to be one of the richest waterfowl habitats in the Midwest until agriculture, houses and dams changed much of the landscape. I could make out some herons on the edge of a pond, but they were too far to come out with the camera.
Then a few miles before the town of McHenry, the trail turned paved. I picked up several miles an hour immediately. The rail bed pitch was still relatively flat, so I quickly made it through McHenry and into Crystal Lake. Coming into Crystal Lake is the one bit of this trail that is not railroad grade, as it goes through Sterne’s Woods. All of a sudden I felt like I was on a mountain bike trail in North Carolina, except it was still paved. There were several steep, close inclines that curved at the bottom, so you had to go pretty slow down or risk the blind crash around the corner. Then the woods opened up and there was a pair of hills that looked like it was originally designed for a roller coaster. A few cranks down, and I let gravity pull me to 33.8mph as I got to the bottom. You had to keep as much momentum as possible because what came next I consider an advanced hill. It isn’t expert, it’s not going to kill you, but if you try it unprepared, you’re going to be walking up to the top. After that crest there was a short dip then a turn back into the woods where the small hill with curve motif resumed.
In Algonquin, the trail crossed a street and became the Fox River Trail. Between Algonquin and Elgin, the trail ran along an active railroad track, each trying to sneak in closer to the river. At one point I was passed by a young guy in an orange shirt. At a light not too far along, I closed in on him again, then passed him when he stopped to tell a cyclist walking his bike that he wasn’t far from the bike shop. By now I was holding a steady 19mph pace, so it took him a bit to catch up with me again. When he did he asked if I was doing some sort of cross country thing. I told him about it and he said ‘That’s the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard’. We stopped and I gave him my card. Conrad is a high school sophomore that was riding a nicer bike than the one I had when I was that age. But then, I am riding a nicer one now, so I guess that’s moot. We rode together for probably 7 or 8 miles, weaving in and out of all of the other traffic on the path that was going slower than us. It doesn’t seem like it would be hard to convince him to ride across the country, though he said he’d at least wait until he had his driver’s license, just in case of emergency. Maybe next time I go across, when I’m looking for two other people to travel with… Several miles past when he would have otherwise turned around, he finally had to go back, but it was another person on the trip that I’m glad I met and got to talk to for a while. Keep riding, man.
In Elgin, I encountered a problem. There was construction ahead and a bike path detour. I rolled my eyes but accepted it. I passed a fountain made of water jets set into the ground. Dozens of children were playing in the massive public sprinkler they had set up there. At the river, people were fishing, strolling, cycling, or just sitting on a bench watching the scene.
I crossed under the highway 20 bridge and the woods started again. Not far into it, a long segment of the Fox River Trail was closed off for construction. I don’t know whose bright idea it is to close the bike path from the beginning of June to the end of July. That is possibly the worst pair of months to close a bike path, possibly behind May/June.
But right there was my connection to the Illinois Prairie Path which would send me back down into Wheaton. I was riding along and burst out of some trees when suddenly the path ended at a road that was quite clearly being constructed. I had to lift my 70lb bike up the foot thick concrete, watching out for the several inches of rebar hanging out the side. Crossing the dirt median, I had to lower then raise her again. By riding along the edge of the construction, I got onto a real road, but was told I had to detour to get to the next segment of bike path. Army Trail Road has no shoulder along here, but plenty of traffic, so it was a joy to ride along. I finally got back onto the path in Bartlett.
There was one point where the Prairie path splits off and the signage is confusing, but I managed to find the right part. That part of the patht goes south east through a forest to County Farm Road. At the end of County Farm Road in Wheaton is the high school I went to, but I did not visit it. At a stop light, the trail continued diagonally across the intersection. While a pair of girls on bikes were waiting, I crossed the direction I could. Then, as the light I needed turned green, I started and saw a young punk on a mountain bike speed past the girls and shoot across the intersection. Ok, punk, you’re on. I don’t think it even took 100 yards for me to pass him, again setting a steady 19-20 mph pace. Up to the challenge, he kept pace, steering clear of foot and bike traffic in both directions. About three miles later, the path dumped onto a road. I could hear him say ‘damn’ as we came out. I saw an orange detour sign and swore. I hadn’t been in Illinois 4 hours and I had already had it with the construction. That was what got Justin and me talking. I asked about the detour and we rode several blocks together to the Wheaton train station, where his route split off. I did not know it then, but this very corner would play a big role in my day almost exactly 24 hours later.
From there, Dan had me routed south for a while before resuming east and going through downtown Naperville. I took the more direct and difficult way home. Thus I started to piss off drivers in Wheaton and Naperville. I composed a song, ‘The Reasons I Hate Naperville’ and it was not very complimentary. One guy yelled at me to ride on the sidewalk and called me a name that I’m sure he’s been called before. I invited him to pull over so we could discuss his proposition, but he declined and the car pace was just faster than I could keep up with having already logged 100 miles on the day. It’s a shame, really. I felt like we had a lot to discuss. I was going about 20 at the time, and I want to know what part of a cyclist doing 20 miles per hour on a sidewalk sounds safe. If the counter argument is made that I should then ride slower for the pedestrians, then I suggest that he drive slower for me. That and I may have wanted to give the guy a good close look at my knee, but I digress.
Eventually, I made it back to my parents’ place. Most of the people who lived on the block from when I lived here last are gone, with the marked example of my parents’ two immediate neighbors. The three consecutive homes have housed the same families for at least 29 years. Rolling down the block, I listed off in my head as best I could remember who used to live in each house. I got to my parents’ place and there, patient as always in the front yard, is my favorite tree. It was a perfect height for climbing then, and as we have both grown a bit in the subsequent years, it is still the perfect height for me to clamor into. No trip to my parents’ is complete without a climb into the tree.
Day 54, Kettle-Moraine State Park, WI - Bolingbrook, IL
110.6 miles in 8:20:05. Now 3285.4 miles in 275:57:16 and a high speed of 33.8
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