Shakedown with a blowdown

March 13, 2024 to March 14, 2024

However many tours we do, a shakedown ride before we leave always turns up issues that are easier to fix at home. The exercise also serves to get my head fully in the game and juiced for the big trip.

For this dry run we're bound for Pere Marquette State Park in Illinois, 44 miles from home. The expected overnight low in the high 50s should be comfortable for camping, and a chance for a bit of rain on the way back is worth testing too.

Before we make it out of the garage, the first issue pops up. The hook that secures one of my panniers to the rack is missing. Barry rigs up a temporary fix from an old aluminum tent stake and I write down the first item on the punch list.

We have an especially nice early spring day for the ride. The temperature just breaks 70 as we roll out mid-morning. Our path takes us near the Chesterfield neighborhood where my family moved in 1971 when we left Massachusetts.

Birds are singing from the trees that are just beginning to leaf out in Queeny Park

Rollng down the hill on River Valley toward the Missouri bottomland. I'm not looking forward to the return trip back up this one; its pretty steep.

Trees planted in the valley by Forest ReLeaf, a nonprofit dedicated to building the tree canopy. They distribute thousands of trees free of charge every year to community groups.

I'm still getting used to the new DaBrim visor on my helmet. I had a basal cell lesion removed from my nose in February, a procedure that came with some collateral damage to cover the part they scraped off. The repair was quite a production but my face is healing well enough and the scars are already fading. Still, I really don't want to go through that again so I'm covering everything up. The big brim fits right in with the long sleeves and long baggy pants. It pushes my helmet around in a stiff wind so I'll have to figure out a place to stow it when it's impeding progress.

On the Creve Coeur connector trail in my nerdiest sun protection getup yet. Still have some exposed leg to cover.

First river crossing, over the Missouri. My new flag is big and colorful but makes it hard to see what's behind me in the rear view mirror. Maybe I'll try flipping it so the wide part is on top.

Looking back after crossing the bridge, the Katy Trail is just down the hill ahead of us.

Riding the Katy into St. Charles where Lewis & Clark started up the river to find a passage to the Pacific.

While we're waiting for lunch at the Bike Stop Cafe, our friends Paula and Bill pull up on their bikes. A side note to Kelly - Paula is the person who gave me her Glacier National Park jersey last year for its second trip up Going to the Sun Road. A couple days ago I shipped it off to Kelly's friend Genny for a third trip when they ride up GTSR on their Northwest tour this summer. Looking forward to seeing a jersey pic on that ride.

When Barry mentions that we're planning to catch the Grafton Ferry over the Mississippi to Illinois, Paula clues us in that the ferry might still be closed for the season. I had not thought to check that, but she's right - it's closed.

No stress, there's another way. We can take two other ferries, one over the Mississippi and another over the Illinois River just above the confluence of the two. The distance to our destination will be the almost the same, but hillier. It's really lucky that we ran into them. Paula probably saved us 10 extra miles riding to the wrong boat and backtracking.

So instead of continuing to the eastern terminus of the Katy Trail at Machens, we peel off to ride the Boschert greenway, a shortish trail with its own charms. Another six or seven miles through the farmland gets us to the Golden Eagle Ferry across the Mississippi.

In the Frenchtown district of St. Charles, home to historic homes going back to 1830.

"Blomstre" on the Boschert greenway, a 30 foot flower sculpture made of bicycle parts by artist/blacksmith Andrew Andrasko

Pulling up to the Golden Eagle Ferry ramp, we're here in time for the next boat.

The ferry drops us at the base of Two Story Hill Road where we both have to get off and push the bikes. We've crossed into Calhoun County Illinois, a pretty farming community with big rolling hills. I've pounded up these hills a half dozen times before but they feel steeper today with 40 pounds of gear hanging off my bike. This is the first time we've ridden here loaded, and almost certainly the last.

Stopping at the top to pant and admire the view

Even with the extra work, the 11 miles through Calhoun County are pleasant. There's very little traffic on the roads today. Eventually we have a nice long coast downhill to the next boat that takes us across the Illinois River into Jersey County.

Once we're off the ferry, there's just a couple miles to get to the park via Illinois' Great River Road, a National Scenic Byway. In 44 miles we've crossed four counties and three rivers to get here.

At the campground, Barry has a bit of a chore setting up the tent because the shock cord in the poles is shot. We haven't used this tent - an REI HalfDome 2, in a while. New shock cord goes on the punch list.

Last June we took a smaller single-wall Tarptent on our Northwest tour. That one was pinchy for two people but tolerable for the six nights we camped that month. This one is bigger and at six pounds and change it's three pounds heavier than the little one. There will be many more camp nights on this tour. Barry is racking up points for his willingness to carry it for the sake of cheap sleeps and marital harmony.

Midweek in March, we have the tent campground all to ourselves.

With everything set for the night we walk up to the lodge for dinner. No need to cook in camp if there's another good option. We'll fire up the stove for coffee tomorrow morning just to be sure the cook kit is in good order.

Pere Marquette State Park is one of the many sights named for Jacques Marquette, the Jesuit priest who explored the Mississippi with Louis Joliet in 1673. They paddled their birch bark canoes from Wisconsin south to the mouth of the Arkansas River, then returned north on the Illinois River, passing by here on the way.

The lodge is one of those grand structures built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s. Constructed from native stone and rustic timbers, it has a massive stone fireplace rising 50 feet to the vaulted ceiling.

The crown-shaped chandelier is my favorite thing in the great room.

We order their "famous" fried chicken dinner which lives up to the rep, yummy. Then we walk back to the tent, ready to crash.

Nice views of the river from the terrace of the lodge

My two inch thick air mattress isn't getting the job done and I don't sleep especially well. By 4 am I give it up and start surfing Amazon for something that will get my hips off the ground. The tent width limits the mattress width to 20 inches, maybe a little more. The best option I can find is a Gear Doctors Ultralight that's 3.25 inches thick - a 62% improvement, and 21 inches wide. It weighs 3 ounces more than what I'm not sleeping on right now. Good enough.

I've been keeping an eye on the radar that shows rain heading our way. By 7:00 it looks like we'll definitely get wet. I rouse my partner and we strike the tent.

Not two minutes after the tent is stowed in the bag we get hit with a wall of wind and flying debris. The lodge is too far to run in this so we sprint to the outhouse and hang out for 20 minutes or so, listening to tree limbs hitting the walls. It's comforting that they're made of brick.

When it's over the scene is strewn with downed trees and broken limbs.

If that tree had fallen 90 degrees to the west it would have been right over our tent site.

It's still raining so we head back to the lodge for breakfast and wait it out. That's where we hear talk about tornadoes in the area. I don't remember hearing the freight train sound typically associated with a tornado. Whatever it was, it ripped down trees and light posts all over the park.

When the rain ends we take stock of things back at camp. Things aren't too bad. The bikes were blown over but seem ok. We're only missing a stuff sack for the tarp and Barry's bike glasses, which turn up lying in the road 30 feet away.

A bucket covers the broken end of a light pole that was ripped off its concrete base. A ranger said the storm took out 20 light poles around the park.

The trip back is dry and uneventful. With more time to plan a return route I plot a course with a little less climbing, but by the end of the day my legs are starting to bark at me. Altogether the 2400 feet of elevation over two days is about what we'll have in the first two weeks of riding in Florida. I guess we're ready enough.

Later I'll read that three weak tornadoes touched down in Jersey County this morning, but what caused the damage in the park was straight line winds of 70 to 85 miles an hour. Potato patahto. Either way I feel lucky that we came out of it unscathed. A shakedown to remember.

Along the Illinois River back in Calhoun County

I don't usually manage to get a shot off while climbing a hill. Shortly after taking this I was walking again.

We'll have this ferry ride to ourselves.

Back to sunny weather by the time we stop for a quick lunch of energy bars at Frontier Park in St. Charles

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Rachael AndersonYou both are really tough! I guess I should stop whine about 20 to 25 mile winds that are mostly tail winds or side winds.
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9 months ago

Janice BranhamTo Rachael AndersonI think whining is part of the deal. You have to let off steam. I could go for any kind of tailwind right now though.
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9 months ago