Looking for Norway

By Jim Schroeder

Sylvia and I were in Joliet, Illinois, visiting her children and tending to doctor appointments, but I managed to fit in a bike ride on Saturday.

I had contacted the Joliet Bicycle Club and was all set to go in the morning at 8am.  The rain had already blown through but it was still quite cold, 40's, and very windy.  Sylvia dropped me off at Chammahon State Park, one of the many state parks that are on the historic I & M Canal. Apparently they are fair weather riders, as I was the only one to show at the designated parking lot.  I grabbed the Illinois state map from the car and decided to venture west, while Sylvia drove into the western 'burbs for another appointment.

After about a couple of miles I was greeted with a last remnant of precipitation, but it was just a few drops and I was fully protected with my tights and rain jacket.  While riding along Hansel Rd, probably old US highway 6, it abruptly stopped to make way for one of those suburban housing additions in the middle of the country.  Well, at least they created a bike path where the road once was, and so I didn't get lost figuring the development's detour.

The route to Morris followed the I & M Canal and its pea gravel towpath, but I was advised not to take the towpath on my skinny-tired Kestrel. Instead I had to battle the breeze without any wind break.  The sun eventually broke through and it became a glorious but chilly morning, and I got to Morris and stopped at the Liberty Cafe for a chai latte and omelette croissant.  A couple of racer men, not boys, decked out in their kits, arrived as I was about to leave.  After some chitchat they wished me a better ride back with the wind, as they assumed that the cafe was the return point.

I had other plans.  After perusing the state map I decided to venture west and north to Norway and learn about my new wife's heritage.  Yes, this old German married one of those sexy Scandinavians!

I left Morris on US 6, which had minimal traffic due to its close proximity to I-70.  The NW winds picked up to a constant 20mph with gusts of 30mph. It was quite arduous even to this flatlander, and the day reminded me of a century named TASSLE I had done in Ohio some twenty years ago.  The Sunday return of TASSLE on the south shore of Lake Erie had gale force warnings from the west, and so was the worst day of my life on a bike.

I turned north just north of Seneca.  This area was ripe with French and Indian heritage: Joliet, Chammahon, Seneca, Marsailles, Ottawa, and Lasalle.  But, north of I-80 it became a little more rolling, still flat in a southern Indianan's view, and names became Scandinavian.  As I approached Stevanger, with the accent on the second syllable according to Sylvia, I came upon this grand farm house that had recently got a classy renovation.  

I then turned west again and tried to hide from the wind by hugging the few cornfields that were still left to harvest.  A few friendly horses greeted me as I stopped to say hello.

I turned north as I viewed down on the water tower of Ottawa and rode into what was used to be Danway, and then checked out the quirky Norwegian humor displayed along the road.

Then came my destination of today's journey, Norway, to learn something about Sylvia's heritage.

In fact I later found out that the road with the horses was where her aunt lived and the family farmed in the past.

Norway was a delight as evidenced by my photos, but I didn't go into the country store and sample the lutefisk!

I returned back to my daughter-in-law's in Joliet with rolling farmland surrounding me on a quiet US-52 with the long awaited tailwind.

A total of 73 miles and a whopping 1000 feet of climbing.