June 19, 2002
9 min. read
This post is part of the Trans-Am series.
I still had some pangs of stomach pain when I fell asleep last night. I had figured whatever was bugging me would work itself out overnight. I had a beautiful nightlight of the moon on my naked tent, with the rain fly tucked neatly in a bag. The view out of the side windows was a wonderful way of preparing to sleep as my eyes strained to see more stars than were already consuming the sky. Surprisingly, and pleasantly so, the other campers were happy to be in bed also and the campground was nearly silent, save the sounds of nature, which would be around even without campers.
I woke early and noticed a very slight brightening of the eastern horizon. My stomach felt worse and I went back to sleep. I was awaken again by the startlingly bright sun shining in my netting windows. The heat was already building at this early hour. More so was the building unrest in my digestive tract. I headed for the toilet. I had thought this would work itself out over night, but I felt terrible. I visited the toilet 4 more times this morning and was glad there were two. I took a book and enjoyed the time reading. I was happy to see most of the clothes totally dry by 9 AM.
I packed up camp in between my trips to the john and was sort of ready to head out by 10. I took out my underseat water bottle and was going to rinse it out and get fresh water. I opened up the cap and noticed little orange things that were not there before. I also noticed them, in a much lesser concentration, in my water bottle that was topped off by my underseat bottle. Hmm. I had taken probably one or two drinks from that bottle, but not much more. I washed them both out as good as possible and filled them with good water (I hoped.) This explains the stomach problems. This day will be interesting.
My flip-flops and bike sandals are the only pieces of footwear I have along for the trip. Neither offer any ankle support. I stepped in a hole and torqued my bad ankle walking out of the restroom. I caught it before it twisted bad, but I knew I had done something. I constantly have to watch this ankle and almost turned it earlier in the trip. I would be feeling this one for a few days. I hobbled back to my campsite and finished packing up. The pedaling didn’t hurt much and I think the lined up motion in the clip-less pedals helped it also.
I passed the Dutton’s Cafe going out of town and noticed the best seafood in Southern Illinois sign. I was pretty hungry and figured I could find something that wouldn’t be too hard on my stomach. With how I was feeling, I might not have to keep it down there long anyway. The restaurant had the local charm that I have seen in many places along the way, where the owner or employees know everyone’s names and they are all talking when you step in.
When a high school age kid stepped in, I heard, “What did you do now?” His head was clean shaven and I overheard the entire range of hairstyles that he had gone through the last little bit, from blond (he was a naturally dark haired guy) to purple, which faded to blue, then green, now shaved off. He was inquisitive about my trip and came out to take a picture of me in front of the cafe as I was leaving.
The first thing I noticed as I stepped into the cafe was the large fishtank and even larger fish. I’m not sure what kind it was, but it seemed cruel to keep it in such a small tank. It couldn’t fit in the tank from back to front without being curled a little, and this was a good sized tank. I ordered a basket of catfish fingers (boneless, fried catfish strips), which should be fine if their sign outside was true. The catfish was really good, with very little fishy flavor to upset my stomach. I finished up and headed towards E-town, some 13 miles away.
Illinois is a state that is 90 percent covered in prairies. Luckily I’m riding through the other 10 percent, as I wouldn’t know what to do without hills to climb. It amazed me how much you can climb and descent being only a mile or two from the Ohio River. It truly is another type of shore here than I am used to back home. In the Louisville area, there are major problems during flooding of the river, as the land only slopes up from the river very slowly. Here there are many sheer cliffs and the land is quickly over 100 feet above the river just fractions of a mile inland. These Shawnee Hills are called the Illinois Ozarks. They have been harder to climb then most of Kentucky.
Enroute to Elizabethtown, I noticed a pontoon boat for sale. It seemed normal until I was almost passed and spied the paddle wheel. Hmm. I pulled the bike over and leaned it against the mail box. There was indeed a paddle wheel on the back of this thing. The 16 HP motor on one side ran a hydraulic pump, which pumped fluid to the other side where a hydraulic motor turned a small chain wheel. This was attached to a larger chainwheel on the paddle wheel. The hydraulic pump works as a serious reduction gear for the motor, turning the paddle at a low speed but with decent power. No doubt the boat would go faster with a decent 16 HP outboard, but the boat was unique and interesting.
I arrived in Elizabethtown a hot, tired, and hot cyclist. I said hot twice. I was that hot. I pulled into the Lee and Louise Town and Country Restaurant. Three lines of text on that sign. The AC worked great and I found a booth. We are still in serious tobacco country, and the smoke came and went with various customers. Being out of the heat was worth it. I sat and read my book while eating a cheeseburger. I killed almost an hour and a half, but got back on the road at 2 PM.
My thermometer was indicating 111 degrees out in the sun, and wouldn’t drop below 100 degrees after riding for more than 30 minutes. About 5 miles out of E-town, I was completely drenched in sweat from the heat and hills and pulled over to a grassy shaded area. I used my helmet as a pillow as I plopped down on the grass.
I alternated between closing my eyes to rest and reading more of my book. All the time sucking down more water. I got back at it just after 3 PM and the thermometer indicated 88 degrees after sitting in the shade that long. Unfortunately, the roads offered not shade almost all of the day. My stomach had not gotten worst, although I couldn’t say it had improved much.
I pulled into Eddyville around 6 PM. The route to the town had included a road that ran up a nice hill. I knew it was coming when I noticed the 750 and 500 ft contour lines nearly touching on the map. I walked most of that one. The gas station and grocery in Eddyville helped me cool down with the AC, Gatorade, and Popsicle. I talked with the locals hanging out and they verified the continued existence of the two campground on my map. One would be and easy reach by dark, the other a stretch. I talked for a while, as my core temperature lowered. They verified that about half of the road up ahead was fairly flat. This is better than my average for the day. I headed out for the campgrounds around 6:30. I knew it would be darkening around 8:30 and hoped the other half weren’t too bad of hills.
I passed Glendale and two possible campgrounds, deciding to push for the campground in another 12 miles or so. There were some good climbs and I was starting to get some weary legs. I felt a serious pain on my right arm and slapped away a huge horsefly. He must have communicated the slowly climbing meal and suddenly there were 4 or 5 of them buzzing all around me. I pushed harder up the hill and they were having no problem staying with me. As I crested, I started to accelerate. The road didn’t drop much and leveled out. I had built up some speed and was able to hold just about 20 mph.
I noticed the flies finally gone and glanced in my rear view mirror.
I thought I saw…
Yes, I did.
There was this little black object darting around behind me. He would pull out of my draft, and get blown back then fall back in my draft and keep pursuing. I’ve never see a fly keep this kind of speed and was impressed. The view in my mirror was almost comical, as if I was watching a cartoon where two fly’s were playing the parts of old biplanes in a dogfight. I soon found a downhill and was able to push past 30 to finally lose him. He had stayed with me for almost a 1⁄4 mile, which was impressive. I must taste good. Although, thinking about what they normally eat, that is probably not a compliment.
I managed to pull into the Cane Lake Campground before 9. The light held out long enough to setup the tent and get camp in order. Then I headed to the showers. This is a campground that caters to people with horses and it was empty except for myself.
I must have smelled like a well exercised horse, ‘cause the horse flies came out with a mission. I tried to explain that it was no use and I had already bested their pal, but they didn’t seem to care. I headed for the showers, swatting occasionally. My first instinct was to wash my shorts and shirt, but I had a better idea. After cleaning up, I hung my still wet with sweat clothes on my line, next to the towel. It seemed to attract the horse flys better than my new clean self. I filled up the tent with my gear and then my body and worked hard for an hour to give you this fine update. Wonder what my cell coverage is like…
Today’s Stats: Climbed 3,300 feet in 48.9 miles. Riding time was 5 hours and 36 minutes.
Tunnel Hill, IL
Tent Site: 37 deg 29.995 min N, 88 deg 47.979 min W, elev. 606 ft.
Trip Miles: 1181.6
Part 36 of 48 in the Trans-Am series.
Series Start | Day 30 - Sebree to Cave in Rock | Day 32 - Tunnel Hill to Carbondale