Wind Farms and Tall Building Farms

8/24/10

Day 3: North Fork of the Vermillion River to Chicago, IL

     Firstly, mosquitoes suck.

     At daybreak I woke up to a thick fog that covered the farmhouse that lay on the other side of the barren field. I was thankful for this because it bought me some time to gather my things in peace, without having to worry about the farmer finding me. On the other hand, however, the I was unnerved by the fog, as the visibility was poor on the road. After a few nerve-wracking miles in the misty morning air, I stopped at a gas station to let the sun rise a little higher in the sky and disperse the low lying cloud.

     When I deemed the visibility 'safe', I climbed atop my bike again and set out for the last leg of my mini-tour to Chicago. Almost immediately I found myself surrounded by towering wind turbines in every direction. You always hear about how big they are, but when you are that close too them and not sheltered by a car, it really is a marvelous and powerful thing to experience first hand. Gigantic is not the right word. Nor is massive. Not humongous. Lets just say that Don Quixote may not have been all that crazy after all.

     One of the turbines was only about 70 yards off of the road, so I biked over there and went straight to the base. It was a most awe-inspiring experience to have three __ft blades moving directly at me at __mph only __ft above my head. (I'm terrible at estimating numbers, hence the blanks... that 70 yards is probably not even accurate...) But you get the point. I could just feel the energy that the machine had harnessed from the wind.

     As I got closer to Chicago, the roads got worse and worse. There was more traffic, more trash, the shoulders were smaller, and the pavement was in bad condition. At one point I couldn't take it anymore and I stopped at the Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie Preserve to ask if there was a better way in. The woman working the front desk had her arm in a cast and her eyes lit up when I asked about a biking path to Joliet. She (used to) bike to work everyday on the very highway I was complaining about being so bad for biking until one day she was in a biking accident, leaving her with a broken arm. After signing a petition to put a bike lane in on the stretch of road in question, I was directed to the Wauponsee Glacier Trail, which would lead me to Joliet, where I could take a Metra train into the heart of Chicago.

     I cut straight through the prairie on the crushed limestone path that had been laid out for me. The contrast between the hectic highway and the serene bike path was pronounced. I could feel it in my mindset and mood as well. I was no longer stressed or fearful for my life. I was simply a man on his bike, riding through the grasslands in the heart of the United States. It was quite pleasant.

     The train came roaring into the station in the urban jungle of Joliet, IL. I scrambled to gather my book, my water bottle, and my bag of chocolate chips and I hurried to the platform to awkwardly carry my bike up the steps and onto the train. Once the train was in motion I switched out my clipless pedals for my platform ones so that I wouldn't have to worry about clipping in and out while riding in the city.

***Biking Terminology 101***
This was news to me, because on the surface it doesn't make much sense. When you think about it, though, it makes total sense. Pedals that do not attach to the shoe at all are called platform pedals. You can add a strap to those that you stick your toes in, and that is called a 'toe clip'. What I had been using were pedals that my shoes 'clipped' into mechanically. I wouldn't think to call those 'clipless'. But what it refers to is the fact that there are no 'toe clips'. Kapiche?
***End Lesson***

     I had made it to Chicago after two and a half days of biking. I couldn't help but feel like I had accomplished some small thing. I used this as a sort of test run for my longer ride that will take me from Chicago to Washington, DC. It was comforting for me to know that I had a friend waiting for me in Chicago and I just had to tough out two nights before I could find refuge.

     I would not have that comfort on the next leg of my journey. The light at the end of the tunnel is a lot farther away in DC. Luckily for me, I ended up enjoying the tunnel itself.

      I reunited with my good friend Justyn in the Windy City that night. We went straight back to being good pals and didn't miss a step. It was like we had never been apart. He introduced me into his group of friends, and I felt instantly welcomed and absolutely a part of their community. Two weeks of greatness ensued during my stay in Chicago.