 |
| "Tally Gen" -- A farm in Jo Daviess County, IL |
My ride begins in front of my sister's 100-year old barn. No longer an active farm, the barn's primary purpose is now an arena for my nieces' elaborate custom version of Capture the Flag. From the barn, I ride down the driveway and up the gravel road, heading west towards the Mississippi River.
Here it's easy to avoid the busy highways as well-packed gravel roads connect the many farms. While not a technical ride, Jo Daviess' roads feature exhilarating descents, long lung-busting climbs and beautiful views throughout.
---
My first adventures on a bicycle started at a young age. I grew up as one of the "little kids" in a large Catholic family. While I never felt poor, life within such a large family required certain protocols. For example, every meal was constrained by "the share."
"What's the share for bacon?" we would ask.
"Three pieces," my mother would answer. With eight kids (i.e. 168 meals per week) some governance was required. "One glass of orange juice with breakfast, please." "It's two cookies for dessert." "One hamburger each, dear." "If you're still hungry, have some whole-wheat honey toast."
Christmas and birthdays were no different. For Christmas, we were allowed ask for anything in the Sears Catalog as long as it was $10 or less. For our birthday, the gifts were similarly modest with one exception. When we turned seven, we received our own bike. Mine was a brand-new green Schwinn Sting-Ray w/coaster brakes, chopper handle bars and a banana seat, list price $49.95.
 |
| Jo Daviess rolling farm land |
Under Gary's leadership, I learned how to spit for distance, steal candy from Doretti's Pharmacy and blow a smoke ring. His favorite suggestion was "Let's get in a chase." This typically involved some annoying activity, like throwing rotten apples or snowballs at cars, in the hope that the drivers might try to chase us down. As we knew every alley, fence, empty lot, and backyard in the neighborhood, we could disappear in a moment. Fleeing, we would hide ourselves underneath some porch breathlessly stiflingly laughs and then freezing in fright at every sound.
On summer evenings, we used the gathering dusk to play games on passing cars. One trick was for two groups of kids to stand on opposite sides of the street and pretend play a game of tug of war across the street. Drivers would approach and slow looking for the non-existent rope. If they came to a complete stop, we would fall to the ground in laughter.
One friend perfected a gag of running into a stop sign. We would pretend to play football and when in full view of an approaching car, he would accidentally smash his face into the sign with a horrible impact. In actuality, he would strike the sign with his hand with a loud crash and fall to the ground writhing in mock pain. When the alarmed driver would get out to see if they could help, he would jump up, laugh and run away. When done well, it really was hilarious. I can only imagine the driver's story when they got home.
Sometime during the summer after second grade, Gary suggested we go on a "bike hike" to Deer Grove Forest Preserve. Deer Grove was a couple towns away and we only had a vague idea of the route, but we agreed it was an excellent idea. It seems surprising now that four boys, ages 7-9, would be allowed to attempt such an expedition, but those were different times and I'm not sure we asked permission.
We set off on our Sting-Rays and made it as far as Palatine. After wandering up and down the gravel shoulder of Northwest Highway looking for Quentin Road, we gave up and rode back home. Undeterred, a week later we tried again. This time we able to find our way. We also came prepared with hot dogs for lunch and some fishing gear. We spent the afternoon fishing next to a culvert and discovered crayfish are very fond of hot dogs.
We also discovered that Sting-Rays are fantastic for off-road riding. Along the gullies cut by Salt Creek were a maze of trails perfect for the small wheels and low-gear ratios of the Sting-Ray. After that day, we often rode to Deer Grove, fishing in the pond, wading in the waterfall, and riding the trails on our Sting-Rays.
Many decades later, I still ride to Deer Grove, but now I follow the paved bike paths. Sadly, the popularity and subsequent damage of mountain biking forced the closure of the Salt Creek gullies to off-trail riding. I wonder if I could get dispensation from the closures if I rode those trails on a Sting-Ray.
Back in Jo Daviess County, I discover a backdoor jeep trail into Mississippi Palisades State Park and find myself overlooking the mighty Mississippi River. This is a great start to the Frizbo Fifty.
--Frizbo
Sometime during the summer after second grade, Gary suggested we go on a "bike hike" to Deer Grove Forest Preserve. Deer Grove was a couple towns away and we only had a vague idea of the route, but we agreed it was an excellent idea. It seems surprising now that four boys, ages 7-9, would be allowed to attempt such an expedition, but those were different times and I'm not sure we asked permission.
We set off on our Sting-Rays and made it as far as Palatine. After wandering up and down the gravel shoulder of Northwest Highway looking for Quentin Road, we gave up and rode back home. Undeterred, a week later we tried again. This time we able to find our way. We also came prepared with hot dogs for lunch and some fishing gear. We spent the afternoon fishing next to a culvert and discovered crayfish are very fond of hot dogs.
We also discovered that Sting-Rays are fantastic for off-road riding. Along the gullies cut by Salt Creek were a maze of trails perfect for the small wheels and low-gear ratios of the Sting-Ray. After that day, we often rode to Deer Grove, fishing in the pond, wading in the waterfall, and riding the trails on our Sting-Rays.
Many decades later, I still ride to Deer Grove, but now I follow the paved bike paths. Sadly, the popularity and subsequent damage of mountain biking forced the closure of the Salt Creek gullies to off-trail riding. I wonder if I could get dispensation from the closures if I rode those trails on a Sting-Ray.
---
 |
| Mighty Mississippi |
 |
| Blog update: My sister showed me this note 13 years later. I found it very gratifying that she believed in me to enough save the historical artifact. |
--Frizbo
| State: | Illinois |
| Date: | 2010-08-28 |
| Route: | IL-78 to Mississippi Palisades State Park |
| Distance: | 50 miles |
