As per almost standard procedure, we delighted in the free breakfast provided by our Motel 8, or was it 6? Close enough. Mark and I pigged out (to prevent any possible "caloric deficient that might hinder our high performance cycling). Laura caffeinated. We rolled out. Our first challenge of the day involves navigating our way through downtown Springfield.
Once again, I offer thanks for the hardworking folks of years past who built the railroads of the Midwest USA. I also offer thanks for today's creative citizens of Springfield who had the vision to transform the abandoned tracks and right of way into a multi-purpose trail for bikers, hikers, and walkers. Such routes off the streets greatly increase our chance of safety and survival.
Notice the not-so-high sun in the sky, but we already feel the heat of the day.
We are motivated in a special way for our ride today. We aren't just going to some city named Lincoln. We go to a home. Not just any home. We go to Laura's home. That's right. She lives in Lincoln, Illinois. Has for a substantial portion of her life. Not only does she live there, but she is significantly and passionately involved in the politics and enhancement of the city. I predict someday she will be President of Lincoln, Illinois.
In case you haven't figured it out already, Illinois is all about President Abraham Lincoln. He was born at (no joke) Sinking Spring Farm in Kentucky. (Not on a mountain top in Tennessee, "greatest land in the land of the free," that was another American legend).
Abe's family moved to Illinois when he was "of age." Shortly after arriving, Abe struck out on his own beginning a series of personal experiences and events in Illinois which became both history and legend.
Abe was a tall man. Perhaps not as tall as this statue welcoming all to the state capitol in Springfield. Or maybe he was? It appears if I stood on Mark's shoulders, I could look Mr Lincoln in the eye.
As the 16th President of the USA from 1861-1865, Mr Lincoln navigated the Nation through some of it most difficult, if not its most difficult days. A Nation divided by the issue of slavery fought its bloodiest war. Abe's leadership eventually preserved the less than 100 year old country as a geographically unified entity. But the price was high for everyone.
Soon after the Civil War, or War of the States, ended, Mr Lincoln was assassinated while trying to relax at a theatre.
He was buried in Springfield at the Oak Ridge Cemetery.
If a person's tomb reflects the value, significance, and appreciation placed upon a man's life, this tomb speaks volumes.
"Now he belongs to the Ages."
Historical records abundantly document that Mr Lincoln had an incredible sense of humour, a genuinely funny guy. He told stories all the time. Some funny. Some to make important points. But good jokes too.
So I got to wonder if he had anything to do with this statue of himself, and the unique tradition that goes with it.
Here's the tradition: If you touch Mr Lincoln's nose, its good luck.
So I did.
(I'm not 100% sure of this, but I think I might be correct: Mr Lincoln is the first President to be photographed. So we actually really know what he looked like. Some historians believe the invention of photography was a first major development in shifting people's attention away from a politician's position on issues to their personality and appearance, and thus today we largely elect leaders today based on their charisma rather than their positions and politics, and perhaps brains.)
Believe me, it's not like we haven't seen a few corn fields so far on this journey, but north of Springfield it is corn fields forever.
Route 66 technically doesn't exist anymore. Thanks to the idea of a nation connected by fast moving "interstate" highways hatched in the 1950's, the handwriting was then on the wall for the inevitable demise of Route 66.
The general path of Route 66 must have been a rather good one, because a great portion of Route 66 was systematically over the years buried segment by segment under portions of the new Interstate "Superhighway" System. (Which means there are no stop signs or stop lights on the Interstate, and, no one need stop at any quaint town or view along the Interstate to smell the roses and get to know that small towns and people who live there. I believe some people call this "progress." I'm not so sure it is.)
In Illinois, and many States, Route 66 got paved over by Interstate 40.
So for much of today's ride we are travelling on the service, or frontage, roads of Interstate 40. Kind of noisy, yet with the perk of never being too far from ice tea, a hamburger, ice cream, or a restroom (called a washroom in Canada).
See the Interstate of the right.
See the Interstate on the left.
You can't see it in the photos, but if you could, you'd see three smiling cyclists named Mark, Laura, and Kent, because we were blessed this morning with a wonderfully strong tailwind whisking us towards Laura's home.
A big guy like Abe, needs a big wagon. He has one in Lincoln, Illinois. I got to wonder what kind of super horses would pull such a wagon?!?!?
Four hours and five minutes after leaving Springfield we arrive in Lincoln, Illinois. Today is our shortest travel day for the entire trek: 68.4 km (42.4 mi). Of course it is, because we'd be crazy to pedal past Laura's home with the potential of soft beds, real showers, local swimming pool, big screen TV, pizza, and Laura's cool kids (Mark's cool grand-kids). All of these we would experience today :-)
We also had to stop at Laura's home to pick up my car key. That's right. My car key. Apparently it feel out of my pocket at the Amtrak's historic Union Station in Chicago during my 4 hour layover there on Monday. Bummer. My wife, Deb, graciously express posted my extra key to Laura's house, so I could drive my car home from Port Huron, Michigan, in a few days.
Did you know it costs about $100 to express post a key from Ontario, Canada to Lincoln, Illinois? It gets worse. When I got home I had to make another "extra key" for my car. But despite that fact that I drive a 14 year old Honda, this key is not the kind you can take to the hardware store and cut a $5 copy of. It looks like a key. But it has a little chip in it for "security purposes." So guess what? I had to pay the Honda people $200 Canadian money ($260 USA money) to cut me a new spare key and program it for my vehicle. Bike trips can get expensive, you know? I now own a very new and expensive key.
Back to Lincoln. This is NOT Laura's house. This is, I believe, a very very old building that served as a Courthouse in Lincoln, Illinois. Guess what young lawyer practiced law here? Correct. Abe. You can tour the building. But it wasn't open when we were there.
This IS Laura's home. The house is really big. And the property is really really big. I think about 2 acres, right in the middle of a residential area. I mean, Laura and Jeremy are like Land Barons or something. This family owns their own Park. It is so cool.
They have two huge black dogs that made me kind of nervous. But neither tried to eat me.
We arrived just around lunch time. While Laura is on this trip, her kids were farmed out to other family members and friends. They were having a blast that week. They probably didn't even give a thought to Laura's absence. They were full tilt into their church's Vacation Bible School program.
After arriving (My precious key was awaiting me between the front door and storm door of the house, yay!) we all took showers and then slipped on our swim suits, and found some of Laura's kids somewhere. On the way to this awesome public pool (which has the greatest splash pad/kiddie pool I ever saw, in which I spent time in and sat next to in the shade recuperating from the past two very hot days) we stopped at a great burger joint, I think it was a Wendy's, and got some tasty nourishment.
At her home that evening we ate pizza and watched "Agents of Shield" until I was falling asleep.
After taking another shower, just because I could, I fell asleep to the purring sound of a wonderful air conditioner and slept super soundly, know tomorrow would be another grand adventure.
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