Shaun Rides His Bike

After taking a beating the last two days, I decided to make this a short day.

The wind was still present, a little slower, but it was usually a crosswind today, which was nice relief from the last two days.

The threat of snow and rain from yesterday’s forecast didn’t materialize, so I was really grateful.

However, it was quite cold, sometimes below 40°F (4.5°C), so it wasn’t a really comfortable ride, and I was really happy when I got to my motel.

I decided to have early dinner in a restaurant, and the food and service were really good, but after drinking a couple sodas, I found myself literally shivering, teeth chattering. After I ate, I made my way back to the motel, and prepared to take a hot bath.

Like many cheap motels, the owners have gone to some lengths to prevent baths. I am sure water costs affect their profits, and I am sympathetic to the arguments against wasting water, but my fingers were numb, and I needed to warm up. I put a plastic bag over the drain, and held it down until water pressure took over, then soaked in the bathtub while feeling returned to my fingers and the rest of me warmed up.

Which brings me to this point: I bitterly miss my Bar Mitts. I hate wearing full gloves, because I can’t touch my phone or Garmin bike computer screens. As I mentioned, I had them ready to go, but forgot to pack them. Darn.

Anyway, lest it sound like today was a rough day, it was not. In July, 2000, when I dragged my family along for a Route 66 driving vacation odyssey, our first official Route 66 stop was a historic gas station in Odell, Illinois.

In 2000, my expectations for Route 66 in Illinois were low. I expected most of the fun things to be west of Kansas. But fate intervened. By chance, when we got to the gas station, we ran into Betty Estes, who headed a local historical society in nearby Pontiac. She was waiting for a Route 66 historian and author, John Weiss. We waited too. When he got there, he let us into the gas station, and we talked for a long time. We left with his book, which was an encyclopedia of Route 66 in Illinois. Illinois became the most memorable section of our trip, and we spent three days driving from historic site to historic site.

So when I came to Odell, I knew I had to visit the gas station. To my relief and joy, it has changed little in 22 years. I had to call my family on Messenger video chat to show them, but they weren’t impressed. I, however, may have had some tears in my eyes.

The rest of today’s ride was mostly on Route 66, which is now one lane in each direction, generally with no shoulder at all. The speed limit is 50+ MPH, and there is a fair amount of traffic, including lots of big trucks. But, without exception, every driver gave me plenty of space, usually getting in the other lane entirely, and often waving at me in the rear window. This put me in a happy place, where affection for my fellow humans timidly pokes it head out.