Chicago Beckons

We camped again last night, and I’m happy to report there were no unplanned trains or security spotlights to disturb the weary sleep of the pilgrims.  There was a brief incident with a GMC truck alarm from the camsight adjacent to us, but fortunately, the owner quickly resolved the mournful bleating of the truck’s horn in relatively short order. Turns out he didn’t even know he had an alarm, and he didn’t have the key fob to easily silence the racket, but all was resolved with only a few minutes of honking.

Kurt - Renaissance Man Bringing Marine Corps Discipline and Heart to Running The Last Resort in Hanna, Indiana

Apart from that, I cannot thank Kurt, the owner of The Last Resort Campground in Hanna, Indiana for his great  help in making our stay a pleasant and restful chance for recovery. Kurt is a Marine who just recently finished up eight years serving in peace and in combat.  He bought the sprawling and beautiful campground last October, and he’s basically a one man show. He keeps the grounds pristine, runs a recycling program, checks in guests, maintains the pool, and is just an all around good guy. This morning, he had coffee going at 5:30, and we spent about an hour swapping sea stories. It was just what the doctor ordered before returning to the road.

Some folks have strongly recommended that we liberally apply sunscreen.  Rest assured, we are well supplied. What we could really use right now is some wind and rain screen, but sadly, I believe it’s still under development.  In spite of the rain, we headed out into the unknown. After only about twelve miles, the clouds began to lift, and we once again began the process of trying to dry ourselves out.

At about the same time the rain stopped its soaking barrage, we began to see signs that the rural landscape was slowly yielding to its suburban cousin.  We landed in Valparaiso, IN at the end of a little less than fifteen miles. Dad remarked that “it’s a really clean city.”

He’s right.  It’s a clean little town with all of the luxury that one might expect of a well-to-do suburban domicile.  Target, DQ Grill and Chill, Qdoba, Barnes and Noble, and others are all a quick walk from our corporately endorsed hotel.  

It’s everything you could want in a town, but somehow I found myself missing the character of some of our more memorable stopping points. We’re still too far out from Chicago and Gary for the real urban grittiness to have kicked in yet. There is no street art or murals. The train tracks are placed well to the south so as not to disturb the suburban slumber of the commuting workforce.  There are no bodega’s where Dad can go in for a stocking cap and come out twenty five minutes later having made friends with the clerk and the Coca-Cola distributor making his rounds.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m grateful to be here. We made the short trip to Target and loaded up on cloth tape and liquid bandage to keep the blisters at bay.  The selection of shiny new merchandise was almost overwhelming, but I do miss the grittiness….the character and the character building that goes hand in hand with “Stealth Camping” and the trains that accompany those nights on the road.

Tomorrow is another day, and Chicago is beckoning.

Big Sky and One Meter Around Me

The rain from yesterday cleared out in the afternoon, and we were able to find what we thought was a primo “Stealth Camping” site at an undisclosed location in Walkerton, Indiana. We checked the surroundings for security lights.  That’s a mistake from the Duanesburg, NY airport that we didn’t want to repeat.

No lights.  No clear line of sight from any roads or parking lots.  Access to a convenience store and power outlets. Well drained grassy spot that would accommodate our tent. Check, check, check, check, and check. We set up the tent, and were just crawling in for a good night's sleep.

Dad in our train infested camping site - Walkerton, IN

Pro tip.  Always check your surroundings for an active railroad track that might be about twenty yards away from your campsite and hidden by a thick stand of trees.  Fortunately, not more than fifteen, but definitely not less than twelve trains passed through announcing their presence with a piercing shriek of their whistle followed by five or six minutes of metallic rumbling as they lumbered through the area.

The morning dawned bright and clear, and we headed west.  Today was almost all county roads. The traffic consisted of a couple of garbage trucks, an odd tractor or three, and a small handful of rural mail delivery cars.  The postwoman drove from the passenger seat, and I’ll tell you that I haven’t quite gotten used to seeing a minivan or a jeep headed my direction with apparently no one at the wheel.

Other than that, it was quiet.  The sun warmed our skin, and the breeze carried away our perspiration leaving a glorious cool sensation. The sky stretched overhead in a light blue dome from horizon to horizon.

Westbound county road - Indiana

The only distraction was the crunch of our feet in the gravel, the twitter of birds, the occasional irrigation pump, and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. That last one always sounded to me like a driverless minivan delivering the post, so I spent a little time looking over my shoulder which is surprisingly difficult while walking with a pack.

Long story short, it the silence prevailed. The road arrowed westward, the blue sky arched overhead, and I was left with my thoughts.

These quiet times are when I realize the extent of my own internal chatter.  What were we thinking? What’s our destination going to be like? Will I run out of water three miles out and have to endure cotton mouth at the end of the day.  Then I catch myself and look at the sky and the road fading into the distance.

All is well right now.  In this moment, I’m good and safe and secure in this one square meter around me. Take the next step, and the rest will work itself out in the time that it’s needed. That’s the rhythm of the road and the message of the blue dome floored in greens and browns, broken by the occasional farmhouse or barn all around me.