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We made it through Michigan fairly quickly, stopping only briefly at Marshall to get gas. Just south of there we re-joined the Indiana Tollroad. For most of the way across Indiana traffic rolled right along. Then, a little way past South Bend, we came to a dead stop in the middle of nowhere. There was bridge construction, and two lanes needed to go down to one. That really didn't explain the back-up, though. Similar things happen on Iowa's interstates all the time, and people manage to merge without incident. There wasn't a great deal more traffic here than you'd find in Iowa, but for some reason we had a rural traffic jam. We got past the bridge and things started moving again, but then it clogged up again near Michigan City (the easternmost extent of Chicagoland). We had another dead stop, and traffic appeared to be stop-and-go for as far as we could see. We took Exit 34 to Westville and left the madness of the tollway behind us.
From Westville we headed west on state U.S. 6, the same road we had taken through all the Chicagoland malls and car dealers on the way out. Here it's still mostly forested hills, although the housing developments are definitely encroaching. We turned on state highway 49, which we followed south to Valparaiso, a town we had been through last summer on the way out to New York. There we joined U.S. 30 west to Illinois. It was nearly sunset when Margaret turned onto highway 30, and we battled thirty miles of glare until we got to the Illinois border. Fortunately, traffic was fairly light, and while the drive was tiring, we made it through Indiana safely.
We saw an interesting sight near the Illinois/Indiana border. For about five miles we paralleled a police car, alternately passing each other and catching up at the next stop light. The police car first stood out because most of the time we drove beside it, we were not in its jurisdiction. It also stood out because of the ad on its trunk. Where most police departments mention "911" emergency service, this one was advertising its website. You can go reach them at http://www.scherervillepd.com. I took a break from writing this to check out that website. They definitely put a lot of time into it, but Im not sure it does anything to prevent crime. Fortunately crime doesn't seem to be a big problem in Schererville. According to the satistics they post, in May (the most recent month available), there were just fifteen charges filed in this town of 20,000. The most serious was an attempted arson. There were also three burglaries, two fraud charges, one charge of dealing marijuana, and one charge of stalking. Everything else was in the "criminal mischief" category.
Just west of Schererville we crossed into Illinois and entered a series of towns that almost certainly have more crime problems. I read not long ago that Ford Heights (named after a big factory where they make Tauruses) has the honor of being the poorest suburb in America, and nearby Chicago Heights and Flossmoor can't be far behind (or ahead, depending on your point of view). Technically these places are suburban (it's almost 30 miles to the Loop, compared to the 8 miles we traveled from "suburban" Oak Park at Christmas), but they look and feel like the inner city.
Once again the familiar names of Chicagoland boulevards served as landmarks, charting our progress this evening: State, Halstead, Western, Pulaski, Cicero, Central, Ridgeland, and Harlem. The neighborhoods got better as the sky got darker, and before long we were at New Lenox and I-80 once again. It was going on 9:30 at night, but I-80 was still bumper-to-bumper as we headed west toward Joliet. Construction narrowed it to one lane in each direction, and every time we hit an interchange (which is basically every mile), there was a bit of a bottleneck as people tried to merge. Finally we reached Larkin Avenue, the same exit where we had left I-80 coming eastbound a week ago. We turned north, and stopped at the nearby Comfort Inn.
I almost always travel with reservations these days, mostly for the security of knowing I won't have to look for a room at the end of the day. This evening I found out a bit of the raw cash value of reservations. I had booked this room months ago at the Comfort Inn website, and I had a guaranteed rate of just over $45 a night. While the clerk was waiting for my credit card to clear, an elderly couple came in without reservations requesting essentially the same room we had--two double beds, non-smoking. The motel did have space available, but the price they quoted the couple (which probably included a senior discount) was almost $70. Then again, if I were that couple and I had no place to stay at 9:30 at night, I suppose I'd pay whatever it took to get a room.
We got settled in and walked across the parking lot for either a late supper or an early midnight snack at Steak & Shake. I think I must have been in grade school the last time I ate at one of those places. Margaret wasn't very hungry; she just had shortcake. I had an interesting dish that was basically chili on top of pasta--really quite good. We both had malts, too. They're Steak & Shake's specialty, and they were delicious.
FRIDAY, August 6
Joliet, Illinois to Algona, Iowa
(appx. 490 miles)
We slept quite late this morning, but after the long day yesterday that refreshed us a bit. The motel had brochures advertising a breakfast buffet that was supposed to include all kinds of fruit and the like. It turned out to be continental breakfast, and barely that. Mostly they had toast, with about two bagels left at the bottom of a basket. We filled our coffee mugs and were off on our way.
We got on I-80, and for a change traffic patterns went our way. Things were congested eastbound, but our westbound route was smooth sailing. We headed to LaSalle, where we caught I-39 north. We stopped for gas at an enormous truckstop in Rochelle and then drove on north to Rockford. We had more congestion there, as both I-39 and U.S. 20 funneled together to pass through just two tollbooths at the entrance to the Northwest Tollway (I-90). We took U-90 north (though technically the direction is "west") to Madison, where we picked up highway 18. Just west of Madison we came to another dead stop on a four-lane highway. This time there had been some sort of accident. The vehicles involved didn't seem to be particularly damaged, but one of them was on fire and at least two ambulances were responding.
We stopped for lunch in Dodgeville, at a local chain called Culver's. Everyone else in Wisconsin seemed to be stopped there with us. There was no available parking in the lot, so we found squeezed in behind a pick-up that was at the side of the drive-through entrance. Once we ordered, there was nowhere to sit down. We felt like vultures hovering at the side and waiting for someone to leave. Eventually we found a place and enjoyed a pleasant little lunch. It was here that I remarked to Margaret about how much thinner the people in Toronto seemed. I also thought back to last summer when I went up to Sault Sainte Marie. I stopped for food at an A&W in Green Bay, and it seemed as if all the people there were grossly overweight, too. Maybe it's just something about Wisconsin--all that cheese, or perhaps it's the beer.
We had one more delay with the highway under construction east of Prairie du Chien. This time it wasn't backed up, but it was detoured. We made our way through the last of Wisconsin on roads that probably shouldnt carry one-tenth of the traffic they were handling this summer, and finally we crossed the Mississippi.
We headed north from Marquette on highway 76, stopping briefly for gas at Waukon. From there is was backroads to Margaret's place. I got things transferred to my car, said a quick good-bye, and headed westward on my own. There was one last bit of construction at Osage (according to USA Today there is more road construction in America this summer than at any other time in history), but I made it through okay and got home eightish. After getting unpacked, the first thing I did was to check and see how the baseball team had done while I was gone. I was pleased to hear of their success, and I settled in at home--the end of a delightful trip.
General Observations
We'll haul out the old stand-bys to prompt the editorials:
DID YOU LIKE TORONTO? Absolutely. In fact, with the exception of the traffic problems getting there, it's one of my favorite places anywhere. I've enjoyed most of the cities I've visited, but most of them are in the "nice place to visit; wouldn't want to live there" category. Both Margaret and I remarked that we could enjoy living in Toronto. It's a green and shady city that's easy to get around, full of fun things to do, and populated with delightful people.
WHAT DID YOU LIKE MOST? That's hard to say. I enjoyed almost everything on this trip. Things that stand out include the delicious lunch in Greektown, the streetcar ride along Queen Street West, and the hike through Rosedale and the ravine. I also enjoyed driving all over Ingersoll, even if we never did find a grocery store.
WHAT DID YOU LIKE LEAST? There was almost nothing I truly disliked. More it was a case of finding some things that seemed over-priced or over-rated. "Phantom of the Opera" was one of those. So was the Toronto Zoo, and for me at least so was the Royal Ontario Museum (I liked it, but I felt $14 was more than a little steep for admission).
WHAT ARE TORONTONIANS LIKE? I've already said "young", "thin", "multi-racial", and "middle class". That pretty much covers it. While I used the adjective "delightful" just three paragraphs ago, I wouldn't describe Torontonians as particularly friendly. Neither, though, were they cold or aloof. That's probably why I liked them; they were very much like me that way. Because it's virtually all immigrants, Toronto is totally different from anywhere else I have ever been. The city is trying very hard to create an ethnic stew, where everybody can keep their own identity, yet contribute to the flavor of the whole. It seems to be working, and I can only hope it continues. It helps that everyone here is in the same boat. The city is nobody's home, yet they're trying hard to make it a better place than wherever it was they came from. I was impressed at how happily all these diverse people live together; we could learn a thing or two from them.
WHAT WILL YOU REMEMBER MOST FROM THE TRIP? There are a bunch of strange images filed away in my mind from this trip. For instance, I remember wheels--rollerblades, bicycles, and the ubiquitous strollers. Everyone in Toronto seems to move on people-powered wheels. I remember the racial diversity--the groups of kids at the mall joking with each other and obviously not caring who was from where. Then there's the safety and honesty I'd never expect in so large a city. I remember the woman arguing to make the McDonalds clerk charge her more and the my $5 bill being returned by an anonymous passerby.
If there's one thing that sums up Toronto, though, it's the orderliness of this most Canadian of cities. Nothing showed that more than the safety posters on the TTC. They urged people to stand clear of the yellow line at the edge of the platform. On the posters they showed a crowd of people all neatly lined up, rank and file, and standing a good three feet back of the line. The orderliness that poster portrays is the very essence of Canada.
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