Thursday, July 13, 2006

Into the Land of Lincoln

Tuesday, July 12. Rensselaer, IN, to Ashkum, IL. The rain we rode through yesterday intensified overnight, so that by midnight we were seeing lightning and hearing thunder; rain was falling so heavily at times that we could not see the traffic on the interstate out our window. Some areas in suburban Chicago were experiencing localized flooding, and more extensive flooding episodes were being reported further afield, including in areas we expect to traverse over the next couple days. Under the circumstances, the expense of a motel room felt justified.

In the morning, we found that the rain had subsided for the most part, and that the forecast now called for the rain to stop completely by mid-day and a wave of higher than normal temperatures to take hold over the region for the next several days. That prospect caused me to reflect on the ride yesterday, the soaking, 67-mile ride, the ride that, when we were finished, left us covered with road grime, sand, water, and who-knows-what-else. The idea of hot, windless days made that ride seem a lot closer to ideal than it had previously appeared.

We staged Nancy's bike out front and went in to retrieve mine; by the time we got back, a couple of women (Beanie and Bernie, we were to learn) were taking their pictures next to Nancy's bike. The most striking feature was the horned Viking helmet they were wearing for the picture. They were on their way back from a folk-dance festival in Door County, Wisconsin, where the helmet surely was de rigeur. The reason they were taking a picture with Nancy's bike was because they were apparently running behind getting back to their home in Indianapolis, and wanted a picture to explain what took them so long; they intended to say that they had ridden a bicycle there and back (tongue firmly in cheek).

After explaining our trip and talking with them about the folk-dancing, we got some pictures and an e-mail address, so we will be able to send them a picture from our camera later. With a light sprinkling of rain, then, and with this great send-off from Beanie and Bernie, we rolled off on our way. Our friends from yesterday, Daryl and Priscilla, we presumed were already far up the road from us, and we thought we would probably not see them again since we were turning southwest at Ashkum; we thought they might blow through there on their way to another long day of riding.

We continued to feel the light sprinkle as we made our way back to the route, and after we had rejoined it. For the most part, the surrounding land put forth little in the way of smells, thankfully; when we could smell something, it was usually unpleasant. So, imagine our surprise when, after we turned down one particular farm road, we both immediately recognized the distinct fragrance of MINT. The field to our right was planted as far as we could see with mint, endless rows of it, and it made the entire area smell sweet. Oh, what a delicious change from the usual manure, wastewater treatment plants, and worse.

The rain did eventually abate, and the roads ultimately did dry, so that by the time we reached the Illinois border, we could feel the heat coming. Of course, on the farm road we were riding, there was no sign welcoming us to Illinois; but we knew we were there, because the road surface changed abruptly from the rough grey chip-seal to a smooth, but tire-gripping, tar surface. Illinois is the fourteenth state/province we have visited on our Scenic Detour; we will see eight more states before we finish.

We stopped for lunch, at lunchtime for a change, at the Iriquois Cafe in Iriquois. It was a hearty lunch among tables of locals who all knew each other, and who were curious about our trip. We could tell that we were far from the first ones they had seen and talked with, but they still seemed very interested. The owner (I think) of the cafe told me that if we wanted to camp in the park there, he had the key to the pavilion building, where there were showers and bathrooms; I think it would be like Monroeville, IN. I thanked him and let him know that if we didn't have to get to Ashkum (more specifically, to the Post Office), we would take him up on the offer because the park looked very nice.

He did give us a good tip, though; instead of following the map we had, he suggested we take a more direct route which would get us there more quickly. He brought out a map and showed me the road, telling me that it was a main route but that the traffic is not heavy this time of year. As long as he had the map out, I asked him about our intended route down through Farmer City and Springfield (IL-54); he said we would have no trouble riding that road, too, since it was similar to the road we were about to take. He said he drives that way every summer to get to the Lake of the Ozarks, so he knows it well. I feel good about that choice now.

The rest of the ride into Ashkum was as fast as promised, and we raised our average for the day to a heady 13.1 before pulling into town. A quick stop at the police station for information on camping in the park, and the location of the Post Office, and we were on our way again, at just past 3 in the afternoon. We got to the PO and talked with Marcia, the postmistress there; Kim had led me to believe that Janet had sent cookies, so I opened the package right there. There were no cookies, just more of my beloved Chili con Limon Cornnuts, and Marcia must have thought I was disappointed (I wasn't), because she went to the back and brought out some brownies one of her regular customers had left for them (a whole pan, warm when they got it a day before, and now containing just four edge pieces). She assured us that if we didn't eat them, her relief later that afternoon would throw them out. So we ate them. Not all at once; two there at the counter, and then two later. Chocolate is good for you, don't forget.

We stopped at the small grocery for a few drinks and then rolled on down to the park. There, to our surprise and delight, were Daryl and Priscilla! They had arrived much earlier and had arrayed their very moist clothes out to dry on the tables provided under the cover of the pavilion. They were trying to figure out how to go get dinner when we arrived, and we solved that problem - they could leave their stuff under our watch while riding off for dinner at The Loft, just a little out of town by the interchange with the interstate.

Nancy went off to the bathroom to get cleaned up and wash her clothes, so I sat there guarding all the stuff. The local policeman stopped by to visit briefly, but as soon as he arrived, all the kids that were in the park around us (and who had, to that point, been giving us curious glances as they went about their activities) converged around us and started asking questions. The policeman, who I learned later was going to offer to let us stay at his house for the night, stuck around a bit but then excused himself, leaving me with the 8 kids (one with a skateboard, three with bikes, and all bored silly). They kept asking more and more questions, and I kept answering as best I could, until Nancy finally returned all clean and with clean clothes.

The folding bucket, she assured me, was the best tool we had brought with us.

We cooked up some dinner after Daryl and Priscilla turned in, and we were just sitting here (I blogging, Nancy reading), when an Ashkum resident, Jerry, who lives by the park within sight of our spot here, walked over and offered us the use of his shower; he also offered the use of his washer and dryer, which we were happy to accept even if we didn't need the shower anymore. Nancy collected our stuff from the clothesline I had rigged up, and some of Daryl and Priscilla's stuff that was still laying out to dry, and trotted off to toss them in the dryer. She would learn that Jerry has lived in Ashkum for 80 years, and in the house by the park since 1954. His wife Vicky sent Nancy back with a small bouquet of flowers (lilies and a clematis), presumably for our breakfast table, when our clothes were dry.

Tomorrow we go to Farmer City, about 60 miles distant, and perhaps even farther to a campground at the Clinton Lake Recreation Area. The weather is supposed to be very hot, so we intend to get an early start (not as early as Daryl and Priscilla, who will likely leave about the time we rise). I understand the road is flat and the pavement is fast, so we should make good time. More tomorrow!

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