Feeling Illinois-ed

Day 58

Carbondale, IL to Cave In Rock, IL

Distance: 87 miles

Max speed: 45 mph (still hilly)

It’s a strange truth, but your perception of the world changes according to how you feel inside. When you have a story or agenda on your mind, your focus will manage to find facts and examples from your day to back them up.

For the past few days, I’ve been feeling two things: alone; and, when on my bike, in a hostile environment.

The first of these I expected to some extent and it’s understandable given the length of time I have been on the road. 

The second, I hadn’t really appreciated to the extent I am now experiencing it. And yet I accept that it might be a matter of perception more than objective fact - there are those who show amazing kindness, and those who show hostility. It is a matter of which you choose to focus on.

But just as I am feeling weary with continuing my journey in this (perceived) environment, I sense that there is a faction of the people living in the towns and villages on the TransAm route in this area are, likewise, weary of the train of cyclists that come through every summer, slowing down their traffic, camping out all over the place, just generally having a different outlook on life.

When I thought of it today it made me remember what people used to say about the Lonely Planet – not very lonely since everyone else is following the same route/recommendations.  Although I’ve not seen another touring cyclist for days, the weariness of the locals on the route make me feel a bit like this. Just another annoying tourist thinking they are doing something amazing when nobody gives a damn.

Why do I care? I don’t really care what they think of what I’m doing, but I do care when it means that I feel under threat from trucks and pick-ups, where people are gesticulating at me merely for being part of a group of people whom they have decided to despise. And where I am simply made to feel uncomfortable when I stop off to buy a drink, use the restroom etc.

When this happens, you can react in a number of different ways. You can endure it and retreat into yourself. You can try extra hard to be considerate and super nice to those with whom you deal, even if they are not treating you in the same way. You can try to make people understand (as they would say on Criminal Minds) that you are a real person, flesh and blood, rather than just an object, a “cyclist”.

Option one is easy. The other two take effort and energy, and you have to care. And sometimes that isn’t easy when you’re tired, and jaded.

So, with this introduction, I admit that I’m not enjoying the majority of this section of the route. I have of course met some lovely people, including in my evenings (off the bike). There are, of course, parts of the rides that have beautiful scenery, lovely riding, friendly people. And yet there is the opposite too.

Today there was nothing horrible, no scary moments, just a general undercurrent. And me being miserable.

I stopped at a country store in the first town of the day and asked if they sold coffee. The lady working there was so sweet and said that they didn’t, but that she’d go in the back make me one if I liked. I thought this was so incredibly kind, but I didn’t want to put her to any trouble, and so I asked if there was a café in town. She happily gave me directions and told me I’d love it.

I was just paying for my Gatorade and water from the store and was about to leave when a woman chips in to say that she’s just followed me up the hill on my bike and that I must be very grateful that the vehicles that went past me were so respectful that they had given me lots of space, and wasn’t I lucky. I wanted to scream that this was just basic road courtesy and actually the law, but that's not the way I act, so I just said that I didn’t like it when people passed too close as I found it unsafe, so yes it was good.

Then an elderly guy from the line stops me and asks which part of England I am from. He tells me his wife is English and says that I must come up to their house and meet her. I explain I have a long way still do go and am worried about getting to my destination before it gets dark, to which he says: 

"Really, you don’t even have five minutes? Everyone had five minutes”   

And so, me being me, I felt shamed into following his pick up a few blocks to meet his wife, who was lovely I admit. She made me a cup of tea (yes, proper tea!) and we all sat and chatted for a little while before I said I had to go. He then led me back to the route, missing out the town, so I could carry on with my day. And so, while they were a really sweet couple and it was nice to meet them, I set off on my way again having missed the only café on the route for miles, having not eaten any lunch, and having used the precious time I had set aside drinking a cup of tea instead. My fault of course, and I was angry with myself. If you don’t tell people what you want or need, what do you expect Kat?

Reaching the next town a few hours later, I was not only starving and feeling a little unwell, but I was worried as to whether the store would be open (sometimes they are not). I was relieved to find that it was.

I went in and the lady running the store made a point of ignoring me for a period of time until I went right up to her to get her attention and ask if I could order some food.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“That’s a good question,” I replied, looking at the sign on the wall, which didn’t make a lot of sense to me.

I tried a few suggestions based on the signs all of which were greeted with a negative response, until I found out the answer…

A ham sandwich was what I wanted to eat, because that was the only thing she was prepared to make me.

Next time, it would have been easier if we just did the following:

“Could I get some food please?”

“Yes, I can make you a ham sandwich.”

I know, it all sounds very negative, doesn’t it? I’m floating around putting my hangdog interpretation on the whole day, but I have to tell you that’s how it felt today. I was of course very grateful to get some proper food rather than just a candy bar, but I was also expected to show that gratitude, a theme which I feel ran through everything that happened today while I was on the bike. And gratitude given freely is very different to any form of thanks which is wheedled out of you as some kind of duty or expectation.

I finished the day by finding that the restaurant at the cabins where I am staying was closed this evening. I wasn’t too surprised and so I cycled the couple of miles back down into the town.

It gave me a chance to take a few photos of the sunset across the Ohio River before heading to the local café, arriving literally minutes before it closed. Every cloud… it is quite difficult not to smile looking at views this beautiful.

The people at the café were very friendly and I had a dinner of fried shrimp, hush puppies, coleslaw and baked potato. And I was genuinely grateful for it (no arm twisting).

While I was there I met three local people, two of whom had spent time putting painted bicycles around the town. I had noticed a couple of the bikes on my way in and taken a photo of the pink one.

They told me each one was painted a different colour to signify a different type of cancer. I thought it was such a lovely thing to have done, and told them as much.

And so I came away from the evening focused on that thought and ready to move on from what had gone before, or at least what I had taken from it.

Tomorrow is a new day.

Me x