Day 52: Hastings, MN

After being chastised and brow-beaten for failing to update my loyal fans, I've finally found some time to do a little writing.

I spent a bit longer in Chicago then I originally intended, due partly to weather and partly to my own disorganization and lack of planning.  But to be completely honest, after 7,000 miles I wasn't all that excited about jumping back on the bike right away to ride another 3,000 miles back home.  It was a much needed break, and gave me some time to do a little maintenance and a little cleaning, as well as have some fun and spend some quality time with my family.  Rather than trying to recreate a narrative of the past two weeks, I'll just list some of the highlights, not in any particular order:

I got to meet my cousin Andrew's wife for the first time, as well as my cousin Charlotte's husband and two sons.  My Uncle Dan and Aunt Audrey took us out to dinner at White Fence Farm, somewhere off of Joliet Road.  They serve the best fried chicken I've ever had, hands down.  I don't know exactly how they do it, but it's not a traditional batter.  Apparently they steam the whole chicken before they bread it and deep fry it in a pressure cooker.  The restaurant itself is huge, with seven or eight different dining rooms, and basically a small museum full of antiques, including some sweet motorcycles.  It was the first time I'd ever seen an Ariel.

I went to see a band called Catfight with my cousin Kristi.  It's a girl band that plays covers of everything from AC/DC to Greenday to Franz Ferdinand.  They're pretty talented musicians and they put on a great show.  The next day she helped me change the oil and air filter on my bike.  She has a little Kawasaki ZZR600, and I was hoping we could go for a ride, but her bike needs a battery and her registration is expired.  Maybe I can talk her into riding it out to Seattle next summer.

I went on a ride up to Lake Geneva with Uncle Kim & Aunt Terri, Uncle Jeff & Aunt Lynn, and my little cousin Kaira.  It was the longest I've ever ridden with a passenger, and apparently the longest ride she's ever been on.  Her father has a big Harley Davidson Electra Glide with a big comfy back seat, but she seemed to enjoy the sport bike quite a bit.  I think she has knee-dragger potential.  It was a beautiful day and a beautiful ride, and we had lunch at Popeye's across the street from the lake.  They've got great pulled pork sandwiches and unbelievably tasty apple pie.  The apple pie was so good it made the scoop of ice cream that came with it seem kind of pointless.

I went on a ride with Uncle Dan out to Rockford, then down to Dixon, and back to Elgin.  That was an absolutely beautiful ride.  Highway 2 between Rockford and Dixon is a nice winding road along the river.  Not exactly what I'd call twisty, but pretty good for Illinois.  We stopped at the John Deere Historical Site and I got to see one of my uncle's blacksmithing friends do a demonstration.  He gave me a little good luck charm to take with me.

One of my uncle's neighbors is an artist and author, and while I was staying there I read one of his books.  It's a collection of short stories and poems, and basically amounts to the insane ramblings of an angry old man.  It was great.  I tend to agree with the majority of his opinions.  He was having a showing/book signing at a gallery in Glen Elyn, so we went to that and I got to meet him and talk about his book, and what he went through to publish it.  He's a really interesting guy.  Afterward we went to the Bavarian Lodge for some authentic German fare.  I ordered the Braumeister's Platter, which included a bratwurst sausage, a thuringer sausage, a nockwurst sausage, a center cut smoked pork chop, and a slice of roasted pork, along with sauerkraut, red cabbage, hot german potato salad, sliced pumpernickel and rye, and a bowl of liver meatball soup.  Everything was great.  Then we went to Oberweiss Dairy for some home made ice cream.  The butter pecan was just about perfect.

Aunt Terri made the best oven baked chicken I've ever eaten, and some kind of cucumber and onion salad that she learned how to make from her mother.  Uncle Kim grilled up the most perfectly cooked pork tenderloin I've ever had.  Aunt Lynn made some delicious biscuits and gravy, maybe even better than my brother's, and some baked carmelized onions that were delicious.

I really enjoyed just sitting down after dinner and talking to my uncle, sipping the twelve year old scotch he's not allowed to drink anymore, listening to all his stories.  He has a story for everything, and usually more than one.  He's got drinking stories, cooking stories, boating stories, hunting stories, motorcycle stories, and all kinds of crazy childhood stories, which my mother insists are mostly exaggerations.  I've found that it's quite different getting to know my aunts and uncles as an adult and on my own, rather than in the context of a family gathering like weddings, funerals, and holidays.  I seem to have earned a bit of street cred with all my biker uncles for this trip, and especially for doing it on what they see as a completely uncivilized and horribly uncomfortable bike.  Uncle Dan took one look at it and exclaimed "I wouldn't give you fifty bucks for that thing!"  Oh well.  It's not for sale anyway.

On one of the rainy days I took the train into the city to meet my old boss from Safeco.  We had coffee and watched the rain, and caught up for a bit before she had to get back to work for more conference calls and meetings and reports, and all the things I'll probably never miss about my old cubicle job.  I spent the rest of the afternoon just wandering aimlessly, taking pictures of the buildings and bridges, and ducking into bars and pubs when it started raining too hard.  I found a really cool looking piano bar, but the bartender informed me that they didn't open until seven, and "oh, by the way, we have a dress code."  It was a nice little reminder that I was pretty far away from the west coast.

The ride to Hastings was nice, but I got kind of a late start and had to make some work calls every time I stopped for gas, so I didn't have as much time to explore Wisconsin as I was hoping.  I've heard a lot of good things about Madison and it would have been nice to wander around a little bit, but I guess that'll have to be another time.  Wisconsin is a beatufil state.  The roads aren't as straight and square, and they have nice rolling hills and cute little farm houses, dairy barns, and grain silos everywhere.  It's almost as picturesque as Missouri but it feels like it has a lot more personality.  I love the little towns in the midwest.  Every tiny town has a functional downtown, with a main street harboring more than just boring, kitschy little antique and gift shops.  As a result of a road closure I ended up on a detour and encountered the best twists and turns I've seen since Mt. Lemmon in Arizona.  It kind of caught me by surprise and I almost forgot how to ride them properly.  Riding along the river at sunset was beautiful, but as soon as the sun went down I was blazing my way through clouds of bugs again, just like Mississippi.  Maybe I'll hit another thunderstorm on my way to North Dakota so I won't have to wash my jacket all over again.