we were on our way. We scooted downstate to get a look at some things we had neglected over our last 5 years and 11 months. First up, the Lincoln log cabin (Abraham Lincoln's family farm, not a cabin made out of lincoln logs). We quickly discovered that although the area was interesting and historical and all that good stuff, going south was buggy and hot and all that not so good stuff. So, amending our path, we next went a bit north.
The Chatauqua Wildlife Refuge -- a bird's paradise on a river floodplain near Peoria -- was much cooler, but the bugs kept us from even stopping still to converse with each other. It became "Oh, did you see the nest in that tree we just passed?" etc. However, the water part was breezy and scenic and Eliza braved the open waves. Guess she's decided to trade in her water phobia for something else yet to be determined.
To see if we could outrun the bugs, we went west to Nauvoo -- one of Mormonism's major historical sites. Here Joseph Smith really got things going, got assassinated, and where Brigham Young convinced everyone to head blindly west. It is an extremely well-preserved town. So many houses and buildings and artifacts from the 1840s. But it was kind of a weird place, or at least we felt weird there. It seems no one around (or no one who visits either) knows exactly how to treat a dog or people who have a dog. The whole city is laid out as a great walking, strolling, exploring-on-foot sort of place. But apparently you don't do so with a canine. And, really, everyone we saw that day was driving from house to house. People kept giving us these kind of sideways looks, avoiding eye contact, glancing at us but never looking at us, giving us a wide berth, even though we were our usual Midwestern selves (i.e., smiling at strangers and keeping the dog on a short leash). Strange. Plus, the campground (a state park, actually) is basically a city park. It's in the middle of town and is a well-mown lawn with a few trees placed strategically. Ever want to pitch a tent in your neighborhood park? Go to Nauvoo.
Ok. Then we decided to follow the Mississippi straight up. Get to cooler temps and perhaps more down-to-earth folks. Well, we sure found salt-of-the-earth little towns. In one, we pulled to the side of a road overlooking the Mississippi, a road with no businesses or houses on it. No parks. No nothing. Basically abandoned. The moment we got out to make ourselves a little picnic lunch, a local car creeped past but didn't stop anywhere along the lane. About 2 minutes later, a local pick-up pulled up behind us and stayed parked there but no one exited the vehicle. (Keep in mind this is the middle of nowhere in this middle-of-nowhere town.) Then maybe 2 minutes after that another pick-up pulled up next to the first one. All windows rolled up. Stopped. Then slowly went by us. The first car we saw has now made it's way back to the beginning of the street and is coming our way again. Alrighty, folks, we get the message. Before the pitchforks came out, we packed ourselves back into the car and decided further north might do us better.
On our way up we experienced our best road food thus far. The taco in a bag:
Seriously, it was delicious. And brilliant! No need to worry about breaking your taco shells -- just use broken up Doritos! Plus, no dishes! We also stumbled upon some Native American burial mounds. The Hopewell Indians entombed their dead under huge piles of earth. Picture a really big ant hill. Not a necessarily impressive display as the centuries have passed -- the Maya win that contest -- but it was interesting to learn a bit about the endemic cultures in the area. A less interesting lesson was to be very mindful of ticks in this area of the country. But with a little campsite surgery and a check-up with a vet the next day, Eliza is as healthy as ever.
In Galena we decided to pamper ourselves a little bit by staying in an mid-1800s cabin. It's been remodeled since then, although the flavor definitely remains. If you ignore the whirlpool, you might not even know what century you're in. Galena is absolutely beautiful and interesting. It's obviously a tourist town, but there's reason why. There are historic mansions everywhere (like U.S. Grant's home), and the town is overall exceptionally well-preserved. Our top 2 experiences were (1) touring a local's home garden, which he's taken 32 years to whip into it's current condition. It's a fabulous example of a shade garden, as there are only a couple areas which see sunlight. He's worked his garden into the existing natural architecture: lots of hostas for the plethora of trees and lots of terraces for the gradient of the land. He's also reclimated a lot of items such as a fire station's bell tower which is now a gazebo, the top of a Greek column which is now a patio table, and a lot of head stones from a cemetery (that was being turned into a condominium) for parts of many of the walls. (2) Stepping into a yarn store to see if they had the yarn I've been looking for to finish Bill's hat and mittens and spending half an hour gossiping with the proprietress about local nonsense. We can now tell you who does their morning run barefoot, whose wife divorced him for building a cabin in the woods without running water, and who's had kidney transplants. We also have some great (borrowed) ideas for the new business we'll start in Galena. And we didn't even get any yarn.
Still with us? This was the end of Illinois for us. Thank you very much but see you later. The great cornscape would be no more. On to Wisconsin for us, the land of rolling dairies, limestone outcroppings, and people who think like us. In Madison we tooted around UW's campus for the day, imagining what life would have been like had Bill decided on their program instead of UI's. It took very little time to realize that Madison is much better suited to us. In the end, we decided our life might have been more interesting, but Bill still would have been in lab all day long and might not have come out the other end with the opportunities facing us now. We might have been heading to Alabama right now instead of Boston. So, worth it.
And now we're making our way up to Dorr County. Before our stop here in Oshkosh tonight, we made sure to visit the Horicon Marsh Wildlife Area. We had read about it in an off-the-beaten-path travel book, and were not disappointed. So much the opposite! It was amazing. And we timed it so that we not only got to partake of the visitor's center in its natal stages (it opened in April), but were just finishing our hike when all the other tourists were showing up. It was cool enough and breezy enough to keep the bugs at bay, so we just had all the amazing birds -- pelicans and herons and geese and ducks and lots of others we have no idea what they were -- to occupy our full attention. This is apparently the biggest marsh in the world, and they're rightfully proud of their marshy marsh.
We have been staying inside for the past couple of nights. It's been rainy and, um, cold. For June. To us. Did we overshoot the going north thing? So sayonara from Oshkosh. We'll keep you posted!
