Indiana to Wisconsin

My morning's adventures leave me with a much less positive impression of the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. For starters, their Visitor's Center is located miles and miles away from any other part of the park, and there are no interpretive exhibits. Much of their space contains tourist information for Indiana in general. Most National Parks have a nice glossy brochure with background information. Not here – just a small map that didn't have much detail. Since the only staffer was talking on the phone, I took one and left.

My plan had been to visit the Western Dunes area, which is near a ramp onto the interstate. Turns out, their signage also sucks. Dutifully, I made the turn off the main road. This was the last clear instruction given, and the map didn't offer a sufficient level of detail. That road ended at what looked like a driveway to some private homes. The only sign present pointed down the intersecting road, and informed me that there were "additional" facilities in that direction. Since it headed west as I'd planned, I took that road. No other National Park facilities ever appeared. Eventually I found myself at the Gary Bathing Beach. There are no dunes, but it has a nice beach. I put on my Tevas so I could dip my toes in Lake Michigan. (It was so cold I almost peed myself.)

At this point, I was miles out of my way, and there were no signs directing me to the interstate. I knew it was close by, but without a map I wouldn't know where the ramps were. I ended up backtracking most of the way to the visitor's center. Overall, the experience was two hours of my life I'll never get back.

So I'm not in the cheeriest frame of mind when I get on the interstate. Traffic does nothing to change this. I find the road a Purgatory of poky trucks and lane closures. It may not be rush hour, but there's still LOTS of traffic this close to a major city. The one good thing I found are the pass-through toll transponders. In Illinois, EZ Pass users don't even have to slow down.

At the service plaza (called an "oasis" in Illinois), I'm tempted by a Panda Express. But the seating area is extremely noisy, so I flee. It was too hot to eat in the car, so I never did eat lunch.

Once I get past the outskirts of Milwaukee, things calm down. I find myself in farmland. After a stop for gas, I have trouble returning to the interstate. So I get a really good look at the farmland. It looks fairly similar to Maryland's, green with gently rolling hills. The recently plowed earth  is much darker, though. It takes about 20 minutes to get back on the highway. Ironically, the gas station was called "Kwik-stop".

As I approach the Wisconsin Dells, I find myself in a recurring state of amazement. I'm in the upper Midwest, and I'm in my own car. It's the farthest I've ever driven.

By the time I pull into town, I'm exhausted. I feel the tension of city driving in roughly 90% of my muscles. I have no intention of camping this time. I want a hot tub, I want an indoor pool, and I want them adamantly. Earlier, TripAdvisor had informed me that there are many reasonably priced motels in the area, especially now in the off-season. Before long, a sign commands me to turn right in one block, and go to The Blackhawk Motel. Being too tired to have any will of my own, I obey.

 This turned out to be a good move. They have my pool and hot tub, plus a fridge & microwave in every room. Also, they're in easy walking distance of town. They offer me a rate of $45.99 for a double room, and I accept. Deals don't get much better than that.

After some unloading and resting, I stroll into town. The Famous Dave's I remember from my first visit (in 2002 or 2003) is still there, so I decide to splurge. I even order an extra side of corn with my pulled pork sandwich and fries. The pork was a tad dry, but everything was quite tasty.

Since I'd be eating by myself, I wanted something to read. However, my experience with e-books has so far been a disappointment. Before departing, I'd used a gift card to supply myself with a Nook, and I got a library card. I assumed, naively as it turns out, that I could find any book I wanted in electronic format. I'd had in mind either Bill Bryson's Lost Continent or the Little House Books. Both would be thematically appropriate for this journey, after all. Alas, both are available only on paper. In fact, I have trouble finding anything appealing. Both Barnes & Noble and the Howard County Library mostly promote the committee-written mass market bestsellers that I loathe. Fortunately, there's a bookstore in town. It's been well over a year since I bought a new, full-price book, so I'm due. I find "City of Scoundrels", a chronicle of Chicago at the onset of Prohibition. It turns out to be a fascinating story.

Dinner complete, I head for the pool area. It was everything I'd hoped for. The pool water was even the perfect temperature for my taste – cool enough to be refreshing, but not so cold that it's shocking. There's even a slide with a depiction of Chief Blackhawk.

After my swim/soak, I head back for a shower and bed. The Blackhawk Motel is the best of both worlds. The exterior has a wonderful vintage-roadtrip look, somehow reminiscent of every family vacation since 1948. Inside, however, the fixtures and beds are quite up-to-date. I sleep very soundly on my plush mattress.