We left the Taylors house after four excellent nights, and not without a pang of sadness did we finish our final breakfast by Sue. Onto the Prairie Path again towards Chicago, we rode beneath towering electricity pylons crackling in the morning air. The path had a number of branches, and we took a little detour North of where we wanted to be giving us a few more bonus miles; The Great Western Path took us back on track, although arrow straight for most of the way.
As we entered the metropolitan area surrounding the city of Chicago, we crossed through neighbourhoods of all descriptions ranging from opulent with large houses and manicured gardens, to some particularly deprived areas, where we gained somewhat more attention than we would have liked. The road surface was actually a good reflection of the area, with the most rutted surfaces in the deprived zones; later as the surface changed I began to anticipate what sort of area we were coming into, especially prescient around Gary.
On the path the most interesting thing we witnessed was a hawk swoop in front of us, plucking a chipmunk from the side of the path, and taking it to a low lying branch overhead. It dropped the chipmunk on the branch, which looked stunned, but alive. It sat there, seemingly awaiting it's fate. The hawk deftly killed it, before glaring at the three cyclists gazing on from below with caution.
We rode straight through the City, aiming directly at Seer's Tower, and stopped for lunch after navigating our way through Downtown. A "posh Subway" as Owen put it, we went to a sandwich chain with a woman playing the guitar and singing in the corner lending to the atmosphere. After lunch we set out along the lakeshore path around Lake Michigan. This was mostly flat, and passed a number of marinas and lakeside communities. The whole lakeside was built up. We made our way around to Wolf Lake, which we crossed on the boardwalk bisecting the lake, which was a nice experience slightly marred by the expansive BP industrial piping facility on the opposite shore. Industrial traffic on the other side was less relaxing to cycle through as we approached Gary.
Gary was another deprived suburb, which grew more so the further we went through. We opted to travel through on the bikes as opposed to taking the 12 mile detour around as we new we could stay on the main street through the area and be relatively safe. As we passed out of the main area and into the suburbs the ruts in the road became worse. As we turned a junction, a couple of shots cracked from a few blocks away. Pistol shots that we recognised from ranges with the OTC. We kept our heads down and cycled as fast as we could through the place, foregoing the usual navigation briefs in favour of just getting through.
Thankfully our hosts area was much nicer; A couple of miles outside of Gary, near the lakeshore in a green, leafy estate. I approached the door and knocked. Ed came over and I introduced myself as the person he had spoken to over email. He looked confused. I was sure it was him, from his image on the site, so what was wrong? Apparently three other cyclists had called in, and he didn't realise we were two different groups! We greeted the people we would be sharing Ed and Monica's back garden with. Three cyclists, guys who were highschool friends, in their mid twenties who quit their jobs and set out from Seattle to Maine with no time limit. Poor Monica was expecting to feed just herself and Ed, then the other three before Jake, Owen and I turned up and she made a second trip to the supermarket to buy dinner supplies. We were very grateful of the excellent Mexican meal she put on for us.
We spoke about routes, travels, backgrounds and shared a couple of dits from each others tours before retiring for the evening. We will skirt the border of Indiana/ Michigan tomorrow heading directly East.
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