The West Wing

This morning Jeffrey discovered that some of our calling cards were ruined in yesterday’s rain. His pocket tools were damp. Other things needed attention. Nothing was a disaster, but it took time.

We didn’t get rolling until after 9 AM.

For our first 15 miles, we had to stay left of the gravel.

Motorists respected us. Yet they must have been frustrated. We were! We pulled onto the gravel when we could, to let motorists pass.

Then the highway divided. We had our own paved “lane”. The west wind was a west wing under our wheels. We flew over the Illinois flats at 20 mph!

Until . . . uh-oh.

A driver phoned the police to say that on the road you see above, we were not keeping far enough to the right.

Meet Deputies T. Knoup and W. McClain of the Stephenson County Sheriff’s Department. Friendly. Professional.

Jeffrey assured the deputies that out of courtesy and fear, we stay as far as practical from motorists. They understood that we can’t bike on loose gravel and saw that we know what we’re doing.

Happily, we’re not in Minnesota either, where last week a state trooper was required by law to evict us from a divided highway.

The cheery deputies have encountered our situation before. They said it’s legal in Illinois to cycle on the shoulder of this non-Interstate freeway. They were concerned for our safety. They wanted only to be sure that we keep right and cycle sensibly.

Which we do.

Jeffrey told the officers about the Ride. They admired our mission, our vehicle, and our “Love Your Neighbor, Protect The Refugee” flag. (Deputy McClain joked that it could be mistaken for a Black Lives Matter flag).

Deputy McClain took Jeffrey’s name and birth date for a report he’d make to other law enforcement agencies, so if more concerned drivers call about us, the cops will know that we’ve been checked out.

After giving us route advice, warm good wishes, and handshakes, Deputies Knoup and McClain sent us east.

Back on the road!
Memento mori” turkey vulture at lunch. A reminder to be careful out there, you betcha!
Roadside wildflowers.
We had these paved (hooray!) country roads largely to ourselves.
Byron Nuclear Generating Station cooling towers: better than a wind sock.

In the village of Stillman Valley we saw our first ever monument to American casualties of the Black Hawk War. (The fallen First Nations people get short shrift at this site.)

It’s a long drink o’ water.
Lincoln was proud to have been elected captain of volunteer militia, but mocked his own military service. He did battle with mosquitoes, stopped his men from killing innocent First Nations people they encountered, and kept his men from making war on farmers’ pigs and chickens.
Lincoln missed this excitement. Would the USA still exist if he’d been there to be “demoralized” or killed?

After 86 miles through villages and fields, with occasional raindrops and hours of strong tailwinds, we reached Sycamore.

Here Jeffrey had a long talk with his contemporary Larry, whose strong Chicago accent reminds Jeffrey of his Chicago friends and his UChicago Law School days. Larry is a mechanic who attained his dream: owning an automobile business.

Larry, who declined to be photographed, says that immigrants show more love for America than do many of us who were born here. He sees that our messed-up immigration and asylum system—created piecemeal, through government by half-measures, notably denying new arrivals the right to work—forces many migrants at first to become a burden, instead of the self-sufficient benefit they are eager to be.

Larry and Jeffrey disagree on some methods, agree on others, and share the same goals. Both wish that government officials, and ordinary powerless people like ourselves, would listen to and learn from one another, as we did today. Then our country could help migrants, and by so doing, help ourselves.

Until tonight, Jeffrey mostly ate food he brought from home. His first restaurant meal of this Ride:

Our expert server, Nayeli, has roots in a country that suffers from America’s irrational border policies. We hope she is encouraged by the message we bring to small-town Illinois from Human Rights First.

4 thoughts on “The West Wing

  1. Amazingly, the Black Hawk war was brought up by my son-in-law, who told me that his mom attended a school in Selma that had the Black Hawks as their mascot. Horrors! She still remembers feeling queasy when they mentioned them….

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