Monroe, Wisconsin to Apple River, Illinois. Friday, July 2, 2021
OK, I get it. Enough with the badgers. Last day, I promise. Today, after a total of 23 days, I’m finally leaving Wisconsin for good, if only to cross back into Illinois to do the highpoint. A bike trail was available, but the reviews were poor, so I went the busy road/good shoulder route. No state line sign, so I left without fanfare, but it was still like saying goodbye to an old friend. I had no idea Wisconsin had so much to offer.
Not much to report today, this entry will be brief. It was a challenge locating a campground on this holiday weekend, but I found a bucolic one on the farm of the Linden family, overlooking the rolling fields of Illinois and a picturesque herd of cattle grazing just beyond the fence. The caretaker was an older man named John, who had a pretty profound essential tremor, similar to Katherine Hepburn, which gave him the same tremolo voice, it was uncanny. He had to run a long extension cord so I could have power, and clean a load of bird poop off of my picnic table. There was only one bathroom, which contained the one shower (so using it tied up the whole bathroom), for all of us campers. Otherwise though, it was pretty sweet.
Chatted with Lauren, from Annapolis Maryland, who told me that she had to drop out of high school for family and emotional reasons, but turned out to be bright enough to qualify for Mensa, and wound up getting a graduate college degree. Or so she said.
Those of you who know me well have learned to tolerate my propensity to wander down memory lane. 45 years ago today, it was also a Friday, I decided I had to go to DC to celebrate our nation’s bicentennial. Last-minute decision, of course all buses, train, and plane trips were full. I figured no problem, I can bike from Boston to DC in three days. I left after work that Friday, and got as far as Webster Massachusetts, where I stayed at a KOA campground that was filled to overflowing. I had no tent, so when it started raining I moved my sleeping bag to the bathroom, much to the amusement of the other campers. When the rain stopped, I went back to my campsite, but all I had was a small gravel patch, and almost got run over by a car whose driver didn’t see me and thought it was a spare parking space. The man was so apologetic, he invited me over for drinks and food and his family campsite, and they let me sleep in a corner of their large tent. All great fun, but I only got about two hours of sleep. The next day, the surprisingly steep and numerous hills of eastern Connecticut convinced me of the folly of this whole enterprise, I limped into Hartford, and was able to find a train to DC there.
45 years later, I can’t say my judgment has improved that much.
Distance 31 miles, 3,375 total. Time 5 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1,150 feet.
©️ 2021 Scott Luria
The Ends of the Earth 