May 13, 2017
Outside Pearl City, Il. To Moline, Il
Good God, who planned this stupid route, James Comey? Heads Will Roll!!
It may have been a bit of overconfidence in my skills at this kind of stuff. More likely it was just flat-out hubris. Whatever it was, I anticipated today's ride to be about 75 miles of lovely peddling. Hmm ... well ....
Things looked good at daybreak. I rolled out of the tent, made my oatmeal with brown sugar and two cups of Starbucks instant coffee (Oooh that's livin') and broke camp. It always amazes me that so much crap can be packed on a bicycle.
The day launched inauspiciously when I got lost immediately out of the gate. After about 4 and 1/2 miles I came upon a farmer out mending fences who gave me some tremendously accurate directions about how to get back on course. After wasting 45 minutes getting myself oriented, I took stock of the day and quickly realized it was going to be hot, and windy. And not the helpful zephyr of a tailwind I had yesterday, but an increasingly steady SW wind that proving a bit of a test. Added to that was the realization that until you reach the Mississippi River valley you are humping up and over some wickedly steep hills in NW Illinois. We're talking nasty beasts in the 7% to 10% grade. This should not have surprised me I suppose, because it is the same unglaciated terrain you find in SW Wisconsin ... 4 MPH going up, 40 MPH coming down. Well, whaddya do? Grind away. As always there were unexpected treats along the way. Coming upon a farmers market in Mount Carroll Illinois where I got some directions from two ladies selling honey, stumbling upon an "art car" of sorts, and various and sundry other Easter eggs that were quick chuckles. Nonetheless, I was getting a little sick of cranking up all those hills, and that damn headwind was getting stronger and stronger.
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After some more unplanned adventures (a wrong turn putting me on two miles of gravel road, another putting me on a state highway) I finally arrived in Savannah, Illinois, the start of the Great River Trail, which would deliver me to Moline and the end of the day's ride. Knowing the day would be about 75 miles, and seeing as how I had already ridden nearly 40, I was pleased to see I had a mere 35 miles to go!! I was totally crushing it. The River Trail is a patchwork of bike specific trails connected by lightly traveled roads that run between Savannah and the Quad Cities area. I had heard of the trail but this would be my first time riding it. I specifically remember having the thought as I started on it, "Hmmm ... I thought this thing was longer than 35 miles, but I guess not."
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Off I went. It was lovely, and a few landmarks matched up with my map. At one point in the distance I saw a large water tower. "Ah!", said I, to me. "That must be Fulton!!" I was truly crushing it. Imagine my surprise when fifteen miles after passing Fulton, Illinois I arrived in ... Fulton, Illinois! WHAT?? A mad scramble with the map revealed the fact that the water tower I had seen was not Fulton's, but the little burgh of Thompson, which I had failed to understand as I was deep in my riding reverie. Well, damn. Some quick mental math revealed that the day's ride was looking more like .... what .... 90 miles? That fact was a little deflating, and made me far more aware of the wicked winds pumping up the river valley from the SW. I also became fixated on a saddle sore which, until that moment, had been no worry but was now a complete debilitation. The bottom dropped out.
I slapped myself around, and clicked into the silent masochistic mode that all touring cyclists are accustomed to when things "aren't going according to plan," and soldiered on. The river trail is a pretty neat route, and that gave me hope.
The rest of the ride was the equivelant of air slowly leaking from a balloon. The 90 mile mark came, and went, and the reality of it all was that the day's ride was 96 miles, not counting the 4 miles spent being lost at the start of the ride. To get to my mom's house requires a climb out of the river valley and up the steep hill on 15th street as a final punishment for my hubris. It is about 7% and close to a 3/4 of a mile, I think? It felt like five miles. Nonetheless, I rolled into Mom's driveway about 7 PM happily wasted, and barely coherent.
Today's ride: 99 miles (159 km)
Total: 180 miles (290 km)
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