Woke up this morning around 6 and got caught up with
writing. Took my leisurely time packing
and headed to drop my key off at the office around 11 am. The Inn’s hostess was kind enough to give me
a 5 minute history lesson of Galena after I asked her why the extremely hilly
town was settled. She mentioned two
reasons, one was the Galena River acted as a paddle boat port for boats
cruising up and down the Mississippi River located further downstream from
Galena. Second were the lead mines that
existed in the area. With the unset of
the Civil War, there was a huge demand for lead for bullets to shoot the
southerners, so there was much war profiting invested in developing the
town. She also mentioned that with the
onset of farming in the watershed, the river eventually silted in due to poor
erosion control practices, so the river eventually was no longer navigable to
the large boats. Now only canoes and
kayaks navigate the dirty old stream.
On my way out, I took a detour up Main Street through town
as the hostess had pointed out this as the hotspot on the map she gave me the
night before. I had to pass through the
flood gates installed to provide access to the historical tourist portion of
town that was protected by a levee system constructed adjacent to the
river. The street is store after store
of clothing, purses, jewelry, and other goods catering to those who already
have large purses. Since I already had
way too much stuff and no room for more, I passed up the opportunity to
shop. I did stop at a coffee/tea shop to
have a spot of tea and a blueberry muffin, and used their WIFI to update my
blog. Figured out I had turned off my
wireless network on my computer last night and after fiddling around finally
got it turned back on – that might have explained why I was not able to log on
at the inn.
Leaving Main Street, I headed back along the road that paralleled
the flood dike. An old lead smelting factory
appears to still be operating only a block off main street – let’s hope their
not still making bullets. Passing back
out through the flood gates I headed back onto the shoulder less Highway
20. I wanted to stop and take some
pictures of the Galena River, but with the lack of shoulder and busy traffic I
waited until I crossed the bridge. I
noticed that the water quality in the river still did not looking too good – it
had that typical gray-green soup appearance that seems common in heavily farm
land, which is likely the result of poor farming practices that are still
occurring today.
Heading south out of Galena, I debated whether I should
continue on Highway 20 and then head down Highway 84, or take the back roads
that veered closer to the river. I
didn’t have a very good map of the back roads, except for one I had ripped from
a tour guide brochure I found in my room last night. The map didn’t indicate if the roads were
paved or gravel, and it was difficult to tell the names. But after already battling traffic and not
even a mile down the road, when I saw a sign to the Chestnut Mountain Ski
Resort that existed via the back roads I decided to take it, hoping I would not
get lost or wore out from gravel and hills.
I didn’t know any ski hills existed in Illinois and thought it might be
a memorable site to see the one that did.
When I was greeted by a sign that said “Be Alert, Winding Road Next 14
Miles”, I wondered what I would get myself into.
The road started out pretty good, it was paved, there were
some hills, and plenty of curves – giving the day a roller coaster ride type of
experience. In the lower sections of the
road, I passed a number of older farmsteads, and when the road came close to
the base of some the limestone hills, old lead mine entrances could be
seen. As got into climbing one of the many
hills I would come to on that day, a black SUV pulled up beside me and
stopped. The passenger between puffs of
his cigarette asked me where I was heading.
I told him I hoped to make it to the State Park located to the south and
on the Mississippi River. The driver who
was also smoking away, mentioned that it was a nice park and that I would like
it. They also warned me about another
hill that was coming up, and that I would know the one when I got to it. As they pulled away, they wished me luck, and
I replied that I might need to bum a cigarette from them if I made it. One them replied a beer might help as
well. Unfortunately the smell of the
cigarette smoke lingered up the hill as I continued my effort to climb the
hill, making even more difficult to breath.
I took a detour up a long and hilly gravel path to the
Casper Bluff Land and Water Preserve to find out what it was. It was a reserve of land set aside with some
trails that wound around the property that also contained some Indian
mounds. I took a quick lunch break, and
watched a female Oriel trying to remove some strips of cloth that had been tied
to some branches so she could weave them into her nest. I would have liked to walk the trails, but
figured I better keep moving. Before I
left I untied the cloth from the branch, and ripped it into smaller more
manageable pieces to ease the nest builders workload.
The road eventually wound its way back down to the river
bottoms and followed the railroad tracks.
There were a couple of interesting vacation cabins build down along the
river, and then I came to the ski resort.
It looked like it would be a fun hill to ski, but the runs were quite
short, with fences provided at the bottom of the hills to keep skiers from
running across the road and onto the railroad tracks at the base. There were still a few piles of snow located
at the base of one of the runs.
As I
passed the hill, the road turned to gravel, and then began to become narrower
and more path like. I was beginning to
wonder if this was the correct road, but on the map I had it looked like the
road continued. I was enjoying pedaling
along the remote trail, but was disappointed when I saw a guard rail strung out
across the path, indicating I had come to a dead end. The guard rail had been spray painted with declarations
of love among other things by some youth back in the 1990’s according to dates
of their declarations. There was also an
old kitchen stove dumped there.
So I headed back, a little worried about how far out of the
way I had gone, but after backtracking and enjoying the ride and noticing a
mine entrance I missed on my way through, I found a road climbing back up the
hill, not too far to the North of the Ski hill.
The road took me passed a large horse farm and then at the top of the
hill was a large resort, The Golmore Inn – “Galina’s Finest Country Inn” per
the sign, overlooking the river and the horse farm below. The farm below was for sale, and I wondered how
much it would cost to buy a horse farm in Northeastern Illinois.
There were smaller old farmsteads along the higher road, and
eventually as usual the road went back down into the river valley. I had seen signs advertising the Blanding
Resort and campground, and as I reached the bottom of the hill was greeted by a
large black dog that came out of the resort to greet me with some angry barking. I used my most calming soothing voice to
convince the monster that I meant no harm, and he let me pass. I took his warning as a sign to keep going
and not stay at the resort or its campground.
Moving on down the road along the river, much larger farms began to
appear. I also began to smell a strong
odor from what was coming from what appeared to be a large feed lot or dairy
operation set way back off the road. The
entrance to the farm was marked with a sign warning of bio-hazards and no entry
without an appointment, so I kept to the road that ran through the huge corn
fields that must have fed the cattle I could see confined in the distance. It is pretty amazing how much land it takes
to produce the feed to raise meat or milk to keep us eating our hamburgers and
drinking our milk shakes. I wondered how
much land we could avoid plowing up, fertilizing, and herbiciding, if we ate
more fruit and vegetables directly ourselves, instead of feeding it to cattle
first to produce our meat and dairy. It
seems like I read somewhere that it takes 10 pounds of crops to produce 1 pound
of meat. After the large farm fields,
there were several abandoned old farm buildings that were in various states of
disrepair and I wondered if the large industrial farming practices are what
eventually drove the old places out of business.
Moving on down the road, the road continued to be gravel,
and moved up and down some more hills, and then lowered down into the river
valley again. I noticed some strange
looking long buildings strung out for miles between the Burlington Northern
tracks and the Mississippi River further to the West. I was trying to figure out what they were
for. I thought I recalled seeing
somewhere about some kind of Military base being in the area, and also assumed
that no one but the military could afford to create such a large complex. Later on when I got to the campground I
stayed at, I asked the park attendant what the facility was and he just
mentioned that it was some kind of military operation. I didn’t push him for more details, as he
seemed reluctant to talk about it anymore.
Eventually, I noticed a large cut in the side of a hill and
the distance, and assumed it must be for Highway 84 I was hoping to connect
with. And it was, so I got back on the
shoulder less road and put my energies into reaching the Mississippi River
Palisades State Park without being creamed by a passing car or truck. The headwinds began to pick up and the sky
started to get darker, making me peddle faster to avoid the threat of a
storm. I passed a motel on the side of
the road and debated stopping to avoid the traffic and possible storm, but as I
approached, two folks sitting in the front yelled out an encouragement to “pickup
the pace”, and I replied “I am too tired to”, but kept pedaling all the same,
hoping the State Park would not be far.
And it wasn’t. I pulled in around
6:30, and was relived to find out that the campground had over 200 sites and
most were available.
I drove around to find the perfect spot, but
after a long day of hill climbing and back roads, I picked a spot near a
shelter, so I could escape the rains if they came. I asked the campground attendant if it would be
ok if I set up in the shelter, since there was no one else camping in the loop
I was in, but he told me no, I needed to stay on my site. Later as I was setting up, a different attendant
drove by me and encouraged me to use the shelter if it rained. I quick ate some nuts, carrots, fruit, and
left over mix John had given me in La Cross, walked back to pay for my site,
set up my tent, took a shower, did some writing, and after battling mosquitoes
while trying to update my writing, decided to crawl into the tent for the day
as was typical by that time I was feeling exhausted. I thought about crossing the river the next
day and then heading back up river to get off Illinois unpaved shoulder roads,
but would wait to see what the sunrise brought before I decided.
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