Albany, "Woodstock", Iowa and the sprint to West Bend

When I first proposed the idea for this trip to Stephanie, I emphasised the money I would save by camping at night instead of motels. The VERY FIRST night Kevin and I got together, that was blown. I think he had planned on not spending money on lodging either, because when we began to find our way out of the cornfields on Wednesday afternoon, he made the comment that he "didn't want to have to scramble at the last minute for a room again tonight like last night."
It was becoming really evident to me that we were going to come up short on my expected travel distance for that day, so I had no idea where we would be looking to stop. We still had a LONG way to go to get to West Bend, though, so I wanted to push it as far as we could before stopping.
Our collaborative map reading skills seem to be a bit lacking as well, for we found ourselves going right through Moline, IL instead of riding the loop around it. I kind of liked the small city though, and when we were waiting for a train to clear the Great River Road out of town, Kevin made the comment that we needed to start looking for a place for the night.
It was only 6:30 though, and I told him we needed "another 30 miles, for sure."
About 15 miles out of town, there was a road sign for CAMPING. I shook off his inquisitive look and sped up. I didn't want another 400 mile day to get to Milwaukee.
Of course that was the last camping sign we would see that evening.
As we made our way into the rural Illinois countryside, even the number of settlements was diminishing. When we got to a place called Albany Village, we both decided that was as far as we wanted to venture that night. Time to find a place to pitch our tents.
Coming out of a restaurant as we approached was a young couple, their infant and what appeared to be one of the sets of parents. We pulled over to ask them if they could direct us to a nearby campground. Brief deliberation amongst themselves was followed by this statement-
"Well, just out of town is a sign to a boat ramp. There had been camping right there, but we don't know if it is still there or the floods took it out."
Thanks. We appreciated it, but didn't trust it. As they walked to their cars, Kevin said it sounded shaky. He said this not optimistically, too. We fired the bikes back up and pulled back onto IL 84. I was about to make the sprint to the sign when suddenly Kevin was pulling into the convenience store parking lot 4 doors down from the restaurant.
"Let's ask at the bar right here. Maybe they'll let us camp in back or something."
We strode into the dark establishment to shouted greetings of welcome. Kevin made known our dilema to the woman behind the bar. Being that it is a very small town (pop. 364 or something like that on the sign entering town), everyone at the bar wanted to know what the situation was.
A rather good sized fellow with the quintessential "biker" look spun around on his bar stool.
"Hey, you know what you should do?" he asked, eager to help. "Did you see that little park when you came into town? Where they are tearing up the railroad tracks?"
We both had seen it. There were a couple of picnic tables there and some of the "park" grills. You know the ones. They look like a steel box with one side cut out of it and they stand atop a four inch pole. The grill itself is big old round metal just a bit too far apart for you to feel comfortable that your meat won't end up in the fire.
"You should go set up your tents right there and then come have some beers with us. No one is going to bother it. There's all good people around here."
Mikey's hair was pulled back into a ponytail, his girth somewhat obscured by the overalls he had on, his blue bandana and long beard framed a happy friendly face. You knew immediately he wasn't lying. The guy was a teddy bear.
"You mean the park across from the state police trooper's house?" Kevin had been paying attention on the way in!
"Yeah, but he's asleep already and those are apartments, not a house. He won't bother you a bit. He leaves before it gets light." Everyone in the bar agreed with Mikey that this was a great plan.
Out of options really, Kevin and I went along with the scheme, although we did tell them that we hadn't gotten lunch that afternoon, so we were going to hit the restaurant first and then come have a cold one or two.

These first two pictures provide a glimpse of the proximity of the Mississippi River to where we slept as well as what time of day it was and the amount of daylight available. I took these pictures from the river's edge right after we had set up the tents. I even put my hand in the water, so now I can say I have been in the Mississippi.


The dinner was pretty good, the prices reasonable. But it seemed as though we were dining on delicacies, given that we hadn't had much other nourishment that day.
We made it back to the bar just as Mikey was leaving, so we didn't get to buy him the beer I felt we owed him.
Again, the price of small town living surprised me. We each ordered large drafts (24 oz) of Michelob Amber Boch. I laid a $5 bill on the bar while waiting for the drinks.
"$4.00" she told me as she picked it up. When she returned with the dollar change, she turned and walked away.
You gotta be kidding me, right? Nope. $2 for a cold, good beer.

As we settled into our respective tents, we marveled at our good fortune but Kevin did remind me of the trepidation he had expressed earlier at being able to ride up the 6 or 7 foot hill we had descended to get to the park area.
"If we get some heavy dew, that dirt could be slippery going up."
"Just ride the fuck down there and don't worry about it," I had chided him when we first came to the park to set up camp.

I was awakened around 4:30 by what I thought was the "old man thing." The need to go didn't seem urgent enough to wake me up, but I did make the mental note to schedule that physical I have been putting off, slipped out of the tent and stood near a large tree. I got a few mosquito bites and climbed back in the tent.
Sleep was sort of running away from me as I chased it. Instead I noticed how warm it still seemed and the strange sound I kept hearing every now and then.
Thwap.
First over here, close on the left, then further away.
Thwap.
Some to the right. Some to the river's edge. Some up the hill toward the road.
Thwap.
Thinking it was either some sort of weird animal/insect thing I didn't remember from my childhood or a really heavy dew settling in and dropping off the trees, I dozed.
Around 5:30, those noises were coming more closely together. I heard Kevin outside and asked him if it was raining.
"Yeah, a little bit," he said. "I'm gonna fire up the Mac Airbook and see what the weather looks like."
A scant 5 minutes later he said, "There's purple radar headed this way."
"How long?"
"I'd guess about 20 minutes"
"What's it like behind it?"
"Worse. And then no end to it. There's a whole bunch of rain coming this way."
"I guess we need to get packed then."
Kevin's time estimate of how long didn't take into account that most online radar images are delayed about 10 minutes.
We finished our panic pack in a steady rain. As usual, Kevin was in gear and rolling before me. I was still working on turning around when he went up that dreaded hill.
When I got to the top, where he was waiting roadside, he asked me if I had seen him.
"No. Was it slick?"
"I nearly went down"
Another instance of ignorance being bliss. I had just ridden up with a bit of clutch reserved so as to not spin the wheel and found it fine.
The next 10 or 15 miles were miserable. Cold. Wet. Barely able to see through the dark tint of my googles as we waited for a delayed daylight to make its appearance. We had ridden no more than 30 minutes, most of it under 40 mph in a line of commuter traffic going to some unknown place when I told him we needed to find a porch.


This is the porch we found. It is part of the Comfort Inn and Suites located in Fulton, IL. We spotted 3 other bikes parked under it and eased in next to them. The picture is blurry because I was shaking from the cold. These 3 bikes from New Mexico had spent the night there. Kevin and I stood outside under that porch for a good 20 minutes, both laughing and scowling at the weather. We recounted his difficulty getting up the slope. His warning about how hard it would be to climb wet. My inability to see with the dark googles. His appreciation at the use of my clear googles. The touring motrocycles we were parked next to. The coolness of the license plate - BKR GRL.
Finally we could stand it no longer. I needed coffee, we both needed a restroom and a chair. Knowing these types of motels often have breakfast areas, we went in search of the coffee.
It was good.
And it was all we could do not to help ourselves to the cvomplimentary breakfast provided to guests. As we sat there, Danna (BKR GRL) came in for her morning coffee. She joined us and we had a great time getting to know her and her story. She and her boyfriend were headed to Milwaukee and the 105 with another couple, although she sounded like getting them there might be the end of her responsibility and she and Joe were likely to head off a different way home. Abel and Evelyn just didn't ride fast enough for her.

By 9:30, the rain had eased, the TV was telling us it was the break in the rain that wasn't likely to last and we needed to get to the campground that was still hundreds of miles away. We did steal a bagel, although Danna said to tell them we were her guest if we needed to.

We looked at the map again and realized it would be silly for us not to backtrack a few miles and cross over to Clinton, Iowa. Iowa was really pretty and much hillier than I expected. Glimpses of sun and blue sky teased us northward. We had decided to cut back to IL at Savanna and so we made the turn unknowingly into the construction zone. We passed through it without incident, but it did bring us to my first "steel grate" bridge crossing. Where US 52 crosses the Mississippi River, it is one of those bridges. It was wet with rain. It was a downhill slope. And there was a stop sign right at the end of it.
Let's just say the vacum seal between me and the motorcycle seat was not hampered by the presence of the rainsuit I had on.


This is Kevin beside his bike with mine and Plank in the background. We stopped in Hannover, IL for gas and a needed break. Then we headed toward Galena. The road between this stop and Galena was very scenic, marred only slightly by the smell of the cattle hauler that was about 6 or 7 vehicles ahead of us. Being a twisty two lane road, opportunities to pass never materialized.
Galena was wonderful and it was at the Harley-Davidson dealership there that we finally were able to shed the rainsuits.


We sort of unpacked ourselves in the parking lot and went across to a Mexican restaurant in the adjacent shopping center. As you are clearly able to see, Plank is a good friend that serves many roles! Here he is willingly taking on the role of a rack for the towel to dry. Our stuff was seemingly all there when we came back. The people at the dealership told us it would be safe. But that is the last picture and recollection I have of the beef jerky....

That's me standing behind RLB, getting ready to press on.










We got some pretty good directions from a couple that had ridden FROM Milwaukee to this dealership and headed on our way. I cannot describe well to you how interesting and quaint and GREEN western Wisconsin was!


These shots are from a scenic turnout on WI Rte 60. Kevin lead me into the scenic area and we rode past the first parking lot around a hill to another.
"That woman mooned me," Kevin laughed as we stopped, "wlthough I know she didn't mean to. She nearly died when we came in. She was out of the car changing her pants."
Too funny.

We walked around this area a bit and took a couple of pictures. There was a bridge that crossed over the road to another side. We crossed in search of a different vista and another scenic shot.
As we walked down the path from the bridge, a car came in from the driveway. They slowed considerably, but did not stop, which I found interesting. I mentioned it to Kevin.
"Oh, that was the same people. Didn't you see the granddaughter in the back seat looking like she wanted to die?"


Eventually that afternoon, about 5:30 PM we made it to the Washington County Fair Park and were lead to our tent site. That's it behind the bikes. It the space to the left were the coolest folks. First thing they did when we arrived was to introduce themselves and then offer Kevin and I a cold beer. They even gave us a choice of what we wanted.
There's good people on motorcycles.