Blue Goose ~ Day 5

June 5, 2014 ~ LaSalle, Illinois to Fond du Lac, Wisconsin

It was chillier in the morning than it has been, but I have way too many blankets in the van…way too much of everything…clothes, books, field guides, music CDs….I thought I was doing quite well in this regard, but once I got underway and had included last minute stuff that I thought I couldn’t live without, it soon became apparent; I have TOO MUCH STUFF, but then don’t most of us? 

I googled Starucks and realized that the nearest one was the store closest to my van, about 150 feet away. I used the bathroom to brush my teeth and then sat there nearly the two hours, pretty much the only customer. Usually, Starbucks' have several people working on computers. One lady did come in and talk to herself off and on. The staff seemed to know her and she occasionally interacted with them. People often apparently talk to themselves but then one realizes they are on a cell phone; those who aren't have psych issues. 

The drive straight north was easy. I got out at one point where there were at least 100+ silvery white wind generators in the corn fields. I thought they were silent but walked up to the base of one, and there was a swishing sounds, almost like breathing. They are immense! I know there is controversy about them, and one of my projects is to research them…how they work, are they constantly being re-designed, how many birds are killed, how efficient are they, how much do people accept or oppose them, how is their function related to the varying winds?…Some of the farm houses were surrounded by them, and I am certain there were discussions and emotions and arguments about the process between inception and the reality. Like who gets paid what for having a wind generator on their property? Can an individual oppose and deny placement unequivocally or is eminent domain applicable? Esthetically, I think they are elegant in their power and simplicity. 

The towns of moderate size in northern Illinois had wonderful homes of varying architectural styles and age. These are established homes, in the center of the cities, and I wondered if the proximity to Chicago makes them appealing to commuters. Solid, large, well maintained and with smallish but appealing yards, they evoke a nostalgia for my childhood. Each town had at least ten such homes just on the route I was traveling that I would love to live in. 

Do the people who flag for construction ever die of mind-numbing boredom? Turning “STOP” and “SLOW” signs back and forth all day their entire job description. Maybe they are well paid. Add a fierce hot sun or a cold windy day and one wonders….Once I talked for 15 minutes with a Native American lady in Montana doing this job. She had it all figured out. She liked the job and changed her shoes every few hours and had some kind of water drip thing to wear on her head. She got to talk to people from all over (this was on Highway 2 through northern Montana), and she got paid well, like $37/hour if I remember correctly. So, in some cases, maybe it’s a coveted job. But jeepers, it rains, people get impatient, you have to pee, you daydream and forget whether it’s Stop or Slow…

I pulled into a roadside park to make sure my tent was dry as I had stuffed it in the bag with morning dew still on it. I took it out and put it on the grass, but immediately a highway maintenance man began mowing the lawn so I left and kept driving all afternoon, leaving Illinois and entering Wisconsin. I started having travel boredom munchies, which is dangerous. I started regretting the lesser roads as there were towns or villages about every 10 miles. I mentally saw my carbon footprint getting larger, always a niggle on this trip.

I saw a sign for Coral Woods Sanctuary; it was only 3 miles off the main road and was a pristine preserve in northern Illinois beginning at a cul-de-sac in a neighborhood of large upscale homes, with perfectly manicured lawns and professional landscaping. I got out of the car and within 30 seconds saw an Eastern Bluebird and an Indigo Bunting, two striking bright blue birds but the rest of the hour, saw only robins and squirrels. I walked a well-maintained trail through fields and woods.  Once one begins to notice, there are many local, county, state and federal properties set aside for you and me and the squirrels and coyotes and birds and snakes and turtles, etc. This particular place told people to  "throw sticks or stones" if a coyote approached too close. Is that a bit weird? 

Continuing north, I finally arrived at Horicon NWR and it was awesome, like totally awesome! It’s approximately 12 miles long and 5 miles wide with very jagged borders. The information kiosks tell of its glacial origin, but I have to confess that my eyes glaze over whenever long-term geologic periods are discussed, and I skim that information (sorry, Richard), but I was interested in the fact that the Feucht family owned part of the marsh for five generations and baled marsh hay. Sometimes this was twisted and used to wrap about beer bottles to protect from breakage in transport so the breweries bought the hay. And it is thought that some of this very same marsh hay-wrapped alcohol was sent to Teddy Roosevelt just before he charged San Juan hill in Cuba. 

There is a rise on the eastern edges of the refuge, and if one comes from that direction and crests the last hill, the whole refuge is visible with patches of silvery open water and the largest cattail marsh in the US. The headquarters were closed for the day, but I picked up a map at the entrance and found the 3-mile auto tour which was open fro dawn to dusk. I spent my Slow-Down Hour (I really don't like the term Hour Sit as it suggests a dumpling or morbid obesity) parked along the road with all my stuff (scope, camera, binoculars and iPhone) on a bench nearby and was in awe of this protected place. Especially the Black and Forster’s terns which were numerous and active. It took a bit to figure out these were Forster’s and not Common terns, but I got such good looks through the scope and confirmed the iD by checking eBird later. Weirdly, there were no insects even though I was surrounded by thousands of acres of still water. A few people were walking, bicycling or driving the auto route but mostly it was very peaceful as the sun slowly set behind me. Ever mindful of dusk (at which time the “gates close automatically,”) I finally left and drove 20 miles north to Fond du Lac into another Walmart parking lot and slept well. Really, I am surprised how quiet it becomes as the night deepens and how easy it is. No hauling stuff into a motel or making a reservation in advance or paying $100 to sleep for 8 hours. Yes, I know…there are still the getting and staying clean issues, but we probably over-rate this. I often think of the millions worldwide who live what we would consider very marginal lives and, while my current life is far from marginal, my space (once I stop driving) and my cooking and grooming options are very constricted. I saw an article recently that told of a person living in 84 square feet. Wee houses have an appeal. People do amazing things down-sizing by choice or necessity.