Day Thirty-nine: Lebanon, Illinois to Mount Vernon, Illinois

July 18, 2019

I'd decided during the last several days that I'd ride home to Kentucky, but the locations of all the Ohio River crossings were inconvenient, and made it impossible for me to do it in one day from Lebanon. So today my goal was to get to Mount Vernon, Illinois. I'd ridden to Mount Vernon from Lebanon once before, but I'd forgotten my exact route, so once again I was figuring things out at the last minute.

After saying goodbye to Amy and the cats, I rode out of town, briefly stopping at a gas station to buy a few snacks. I recognized the lady working there from when we lived in Lebanon. She'd always been grumpy, but this morning she was very friendly, and obviously in a great mood. What had changed in the last year?!

There was supposed to be a new, short bike path that led south out of town. This path had been discussed for years, and apparently had finally been completed after we moved to Kentucky. So I rode into the less-nice part of Lebanon, past the motorcycle club and the wastewater treatment plant, looking for the trail.

It was under several inches of mud. I now remembered hearing that the path had flooded, but had assumed, incorrectly, that it had been repaired by now. I should have known: This was Lebanon, where things happen very, very slowly, if ever.

It was a dilemma. If I didn't go through the mud, I'd have to either ride on a super-busy and unsafe section of highway, or go north out of town, which would add several miles.

The muddy section of the trail didn't seem too long, so I went. I immediately regretted doing this, since it was the stickiest, gloppiest, nastiest mud I've ever encountered. I was briefly concerned that I would get stuck in it and have to call for help. As pounds of mud accumulated on the bike tires and frame, it became almost impossible for me to drag the bike, it was so heavy.

Finally I got through the worst of the mud, and spent several minutes cleaning the worst of it off, until the bike was rideable again.

I rode eight or nine miles to the Love's truck stop in New Baden, another familiar hangout from my time in Illinois. I purchased a bag of cleaning rags there, and spent 45 minutes cleaning the bike, removing pebbles, twigs and other detritus. I even cleaned and oiled the chain, then rewarded myself by having breakfast at the Hardee's inside the truck stop.

There was water standing in the fields, so I didn't bother trying my preferred crossing of the Kaskaskia River, which is via a quiet country road that was almost certainly under water. Instead I made my way to New Memphis Station, got on IL-160, and crossed the river there. It was actually the least traffic I've ever seen on that section of the sometimes-busy highway, and incredibly enough, Illinois had found the money to repave and widen the shoulder. Amazing.

It felt like the hottest day of this tour - just like it had each of the last several days. I headed for the town of Nashville, where I knew there was a Dairy Queen.

When did it become acceptable to just toss these floss picks on the road? I've seen these everywhere on this tour. Nasty!

After 40 miles for the day, I stopped and spent 45 minutes in the Dairy Queen in Nashville, population 3,057. I was not enthusiastic about getting back on the bike. The temperature was in the high 90's, but it felt hotter. Seven years before, Joy and I had done a bike tour together in Illinois and Indiana, and it was above 100 degrees almost every day. Back then I wasn't bothered by it as much as Joy, but for whatever reason, I now had difficulty tolerating it. It didn't help that this part of Illinois is not exactly scenic, and that there is virtually no shade at all - just endless fields fields of soybeans.

I left the Dairy Queen and road east on country roads, some of them gravel, some of them deteriorating Illinois chip-seal.

I stopped in Ashley, population 536. I'd never been to Ashley before. I hadn't missed much. There was a grocery store where I bought Gatorade, and had a brief conversation with the woman working there. She was pleasant at first, but after I casually mentioned the deteriorating surfaces of the some of the roads I'd been riding on, she began complaining about Illinois' corrupt state government, which was fair enough - I agree with her about that - and then she suddenly escalated into some truly crazy, wild-eyed conspiracy theories. Yikes!

I left Ashley and continued riding on some gravel roads, and, surprisingly, a few hills.

I crossed a set of train tracks. The road curved away from the tracks, so it was possible for me to get a good view of an oncoming train without standing too close. I thought this would be a good opportunity for a photograph - and it was - but I forgot just how loud those whistles are.

Woodlawn, population 698, was the last little town before Mount Vernon. There wasn't a lot there, but I did see a "General Store", which, disappointingly, was actually some kind of gift shop selling useless trinkets, and not snacks or cold drinks.

The old lady who owned the place directed me next door to another business she owned, a furniture store, which improbably had a fountain with delicious, ice-cold water.

I followed country roads as far as I could to the outskirts of Mount Vernon, population 15,277, but then I had to ride on a busy highway for three miles, and then navigate the very, very bicycle-unfriendly interstate truck stop and motel zone before checking into the Hampton Inn. I wasn't hungry, and ate a few snacks for dinner, then spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out a route for getting home in one long day tomorrow.

Today's ride: 72 miles (116 km)
Total: 3,118 miles (5,018 km)

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