After the sightseeing, we said goodbye, and I got headed down the road, now taking route 36 straight west, as route 40 cuts south out of Indianapolis. Not 15 minutes after that, the rain began, and was hard enough I figured it wouldn't hurt to stop for a few. I pulled into a grocery store, and grabbed some soy milk and bananas for later, then wheeled a few blocks down the street to a Barnes and Noble for some coffee while waiting for the downpour to stop. A few minutes turned into two hours, and by 1:30, I figured it was time to get on the road, rain or no rain. The Planet Bike fenders did a really nice job of keeping the spray off me and the bike, but the poncho I threw on was collecting condensation on the inside as I was sweating, so I ended up pretty damp anyway. Mercifully, the rain stopped 20 minutes after I got back on the bike, so I stowed the poncho, and kept moving.Soon the roads were dry again, almost as though it had never rained. I was feeling strong and making pretty decent time too. Cruising through one town, it became obvious that I was in Amish country given the number of buggies around. Now you may not know it, but the Amish have a definite competitive streak/superiority complex, especially when it comes to their transportation. Why else would they still rock those 1 horsepower buggies? Anyway, I pull up to a stoplight, and there's a black wagon in front of me, loaded down with a whole family. I get a couple glances from the two kids in back, and I see one of them tap the dad on the shoulder. The dude looks back for a second, giving me the infamous Amish Eye, letting me know that he wanted to give me an old-school ass whipping. Even with the fully loaded bike, there was no way I could back down, so as soon as the light flashed green, he cracked his whip, and the buggy was off. I clipped in, downshifted, and sprinted off after the guy. As I closed in on him, I pulled out the camera and snapped this shot - you can see how he's hanging to the left in the lane, trying to prevent me from making the pass! Who would have thought the Amish were such natural tacticians?
Anyway, about 10 seconds after I took this photos, I was jamming in the big ring, and as I crossed the double yellow, taking the buggy on the left, the kids in the back looked back at me, and I swear I saw one of them scowl. Ben: 1, Amish: 0. Booyah.About 10 miles after my drag race, I FINALLY reached the border of Illinois, and as you can see, there's not much to the southern part of the state aside from cornfields... and more cornfields.
Crossing the border, I quickly realized that I was not going to be enjoying myself much out here. Sure, the roads are flat and fast, but there was a certain tangible emptiness in the air which was absent even in similar terrain through Ohio and Indiana.
That said, it wasn't until just after the state line that I saw the following sign, and it really sunk in that I was guaranteed to have a crappy time in Southern Illinios:
Here I was, my panniers stuffed to bursting with untaxed indian reservation cigarettes! With the prospect of losing my wheels to the long arm of the law, I dumped the cancer sticks in a cornfield. In all seriousness though, imprisonment for 'bootlegging' cigarettes? What about the other problems in southern Illinois like incest, wife beating, child neglect, religious fanaticism, and the general lack of anything to do? Surely these are issues more demanding a road sign than cigarette bootlegging?Anyway, I was happy to be making somewhat rapid progress, but looking at my watch, it was 7:20PM, the sun was going down, and there was nothing around for miles. No campground, no hotel, motel, or Holiday Inn. Hmmmm. I came to the town of Scotland, and figure I ought to stop and see if there's anywhere I could pitch my tent. I see a group of people outside a house, and roll over, asking if they know of anywhere I might be able to camp for the night. The toothless, inbred codger who seemed to be the king around the place gave me the sort of look that said he didn't approve of my spandex and funny shoes, and said, "Hmmmm... camping? Where?" Meanwhile, I hear one of the women in the background mutter to the other that she should let me camp in her backyard - but clearly the old man was calling the shots. Anyway, he looks contemplative, but where a simple 'No' would have sufficed, an awkward silence hung in the air. A seriously uncomfortable, unbelievably strange pause... and for a solid 10-15 seconds, I waited for an answer that never came. Sensing I had, in the course of 30 seconds, overstayed my welcome in the 1 cow town of Scotland, IL, I said 'Thanks anyway", turned around, and headed back to route 36. Incorrectly, I figured I'd find something in the town of Chrisman, 3 miles away. Dusk was falling as I rode in Chrisman - another town of maybe 300 people - and as I looked around, aside from a park with a definite 9pm closing time, there wasn't anywhere great to camp without risking an encounter with the local police. On the edge of town lay the high school, and as the next day was Labor Day, I figured nobody would be around, so I parked the bike, and pitched the tent behind an equipment barn situated behind the main building.
Being in such a small town, I was uneasy about explaining myself to a police officer who, much like the people I ran into in Scotland, probably wouldn't be fond of my vagrancy. Still, it was the only easy spot to stop, so I tried to sleep. Also of note is the cow pasture located directly behind Chrisman high school - almost every hour, the cattle would start mooing to each other, which would wake me from my half-sleep. Then, at 3:30am, I freaked out, hearing what sounded like a horse snorting directly next to my head. Sitting up, I looked out the tent, and there, 12 feet away on the edge of the fence were a couple horses - certainly nothing to be afraid of, but as I was on edge already, the unexpected noise had gotten the adrenaline flowing - which made it hard to get back to sleep. While I did technically 'sleep', it certainly wasn't the kind of rest I needed, but at least I wasn't woken with a spotlight and a badge in my face...
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