When I proudly posted the biggest heirloom tomato of my life (1.4 pounds), Jon Reith responded on Instagram, “There are few things on earth better than a fresh garden tomato. And I’m just assuming that these `few things’ exist. I’ve personally never had them.”
I thought he overstated it, then couldn’t immediately come up with one of those “few things,” other than obvious ones like being there when my kids were born.
So, I started my list of such “few things,” related to the outdoors.
Reith is the guy caught a surprise alligator gar while fishing for smallmouth bass two years ago on the DuPage River.
First on my list was catching and cleaning a trout by an evergreen-lined mountain stream. Then building a small fire, immediately frying it lightly salted in butter streamside. Not many chances to live like that.
In Chicago, I find standing on a massive quarry rock or sitting on the bench at the top of Palmisano Park, staring at the Loop and Lake Michigan, is my path to inner peace.
I noticed my growing list included lots of wandering backroads or getting sidetracked. I mean driving the back ways, not interstates, to Hennepin-Hopper lakes, Powerton Lake, Champaign, far southern Illinois, Lake Geneva or the Indiana Dunes.
I read William Least Heat-Moon’s “Blue Highways: A Journey into America” multiple times. It came out as I finished college. It reinforced the value of wandering backroads and helped me understand I might be different but wasn’t overly weird.
If in Lake Geneva, I take Route 47 (Route 120 in Wisconsin) instead of major roads toward Morris. One joy, aside from driving the country between small towns, is a chance to hike the Kishwaukee Headwaters Conservation Area near Woodstock. If really ambitious, drive all the way to Mahomet west of Champaign. On the way, you’ll pass the conservation centerpiece of Sibley State Habitat Area, then in Mahomet go a couple more miles to Allerton Park.
For Powerton, I take Route 24 west, driving past the impromptu line of hobby horses in the fields on the south side four miles west of Fairbury, then find my way to Route 9. On the way home, I make another route, generally heading east and north.
For Hennepin-Hopper, instead of shooting out I-80 or taking I-55 south to Gardener, take old Route 66 from Wilmington to Gardener, then head west to Route 26.
Route 26 is one of the great traveling roads in Illinois.
If visiting Starved Rock or Matthiessen state parks, make a day of it. On the way home, drive a little more to Route 26 near Hennepin, then head south toward to East Peoria, especially as colors start changing. Stop at Dixon Waterfowl Refuge (Hennepin-Hopper ) to climb the tower or hike.
Anybody who has had a kid at the University of Illinois knows that going to and from Champaign on I-57 is mind-numbing. If you got the time (half an hour or so extra), I suggest Route 45, from the denseness of the south suburbs to scattered towns and farmland in Kankakee, Iroquois, Ford and Champaign counties.
One of our great family trips was when I had an outdoors conference in far southern Illinois and my wife took our then-very-young kids exploring in Metropolis and other spots. On the way home, we wandered half the state on Route 45 (how often do you drive through Flora?) before getting on I-57 like normal people and heading north.
The ride to the Indiana Dunes is a straight shot via interstates, but it’s more interesting to take Routes 20 and 12 there, then take Route 49 on the way home through Valparaiso, then west on Route 30. That way you can stop at the 49er Drive-In Theatre on the north end of Valpo for a retro movie experience.
Water as much as backroads pulls at me.
I find it cathartic to wet wade the Kankakee River in swim trunks and old sneakers, especially when smallmouth are hitting topwaters as the sun sets.
As I age it happens less often, but I find satisfaction in being first to reach the far end of the riprap on the south side of Braidwood Lake on opening day.
But I know for certain that the hour of my year in the outdoors continues to be the one before shooting time on opening day of deer season. Every rustle of oak leaves carries dreams and fantasies.
Fresh garden tomatoes are more born of earth.
