Day 28

Today, two days and less then 100 miles from the end of my trip, I had by far my most debilitating breakdown. And it had nothing to do with my bicycle; it was my body that stopped working.

It began around midnight last night in Illini State Park, when I woke up with a stomachache. I spent a few hours tossing and turning and rolling around, and after I made a trip to the toilet I felt a bit better and managed to doze off again. But then around 4 AM, I woke up again, and this time it was more serious. I opened the zipper to my tent, stuck my head out, and let loose right in the vestibule under the rainfly. As is usually the case after such activities, I felt quite a bit better, and was able to fall asleep without really waking up again until 7:30. I think I had the 50 degree temperatures to thank for keeping the aromatic bouquet of my colorful artwork to a minimum, as my head was only about a foot away from it for the rest of the night.

Once I woke, my stomach still didn't feel right, and I didn't feel much like eating, which was such unfamiliar territory for me to be in. I got a banana down ok, but then stuffing down a cereal bar was a bit more work. Already at that point I figured I must have gotten poisoned by something I ate, since my stomach issue was the only problem I had, and I hadn't really been in contact with enough people recently for it to be a contagious disease. Somehow my brain quickly settled on the smoked string cheese I'd had the night before; it didn't taste bad, but I just decided that was the problem, and now I'll probably never be able to eat smoked string cheese again. The water in the campground tasted a bit funny too, and even though I didn't really think that was the problem (it didn't seem like anyone else was losing their lunch), I was happy that I had an apple juice to drink in the morning because I didn't want to risk the water.

I got up and moved around camp a bit, but I definitely wasn't feeling right. Even though I emptied out most of the tent, I went back in and just laid there for a long time. Finally I figured I'd try riding out around 10:30. I made it out of the park and over the bridge across the Illinois River to Marseilles, where I stopped and got more apple juice, Gatorade, and non-campground water. I flopped back down on the ground outside the gas station to drink the apple juice. After I hauled myself back up, I got on US 6 and headed east. I actually made it ten miles before stopping, which is about what I normally do before my first stop. And on the bike, I didn't feel too bad. But once I stopped, I just needed to sit down on the ground, and it took me a long time to get back up again. And all I really ingested was a bit of Gatorade. On the bike again, I felt better, and made it another five miles. Then I pulled the bike into the grass on the edge of a cornfield, and laid down right next to the corn because it was the only shade around to block the noontime sun. I'm not sure how long it was until I got up again, but it was probably close to an hour. I peeled another banana, but I was only able to eat about half of it.

That's when I finally faced the extremely disappointing reality that I wouldn't be able to make it to my destination of Lemont today, at least not before midnight. With no appetite, there was no way to get food in me. With no food (and no IV glucose drip handy), there was no way to get energy. And without energy, there was no way for me to make the bike go. I went from a guy who had gone over 220 miles in the past two days with no difficulty at all, to a guy who could barely do 20. While I completely understood the reasons, the apparent ease at which the poison had decimated my strength was still shocking. Especially since this was supposed to be such an easy day. The weather was perfect, and it was only 53 miles from Illini State Park to my good friend Dan's parents' house in Lemont. Dan's dad Glenn also goes bike touring, and may be the first person I ever even really heard of doing such a thing. So not only has he been a big inspiration to me, I know that the whole family had been following my journal with great interest. I've spent many wonderful Saturday afternoons and evenings there over the years, and this was all set up to be one of the best, with Dan and his wife Jen coming on down, and perhaps even seeing me roll up the street and into the driveway. I'd be greeted with a nice cold beer, we'd have Happy Hour snacks, and then sit around a fire in the backyard as it got dark. Then I'd spend the night there and ride another easy 50 miles for my last day. It was going to be perfect.

But now that couldn't happen as I'd imagined it. Still, I wanted to at least see everyone, so I rode a few more miles to a city park in the town of Morris, pulled out the cell phone, and called to their house for a rescue. Dan's mom Liz and his brother Dave were generous enough to stop what they were doing and come out to get me. So after covering every inch of the trip under my own power, over 2100 miles, I simultaneously felt like a cheater and felt cheated. After about another hour of lying motionless in the park, I was actually able to finish the other half of the banana, and I even had my last Little Debbie snack, so things seemed to finally be turning around. But at that point it was already past 3:00, and I'd still eaten only about half as much as I would have before even leaving camp on a normal day. So I still had a lot more recovery to do.

It was great to see Liz and Dave show up, and they were very helpful in getting everything loaded into the minivan, and we were shortly on our way. On the ride in, I realized I had been thinking like a bicyclist, reasoning that I had about 35 miles to go, so that would take about 35 or 40 minutes to drive. But you can't drive a car at highway speeds on the direct routes I take, and the expressways end up being a lot more indirect. Had I considered the extra distance and time it would take to come and get me, I might have just holed up in a motel in Morris for the night. So I'm greatly indebted to the Pryors for all they did for me.

Once at the house we tried to figure out if there was anything that sounded good to eat, and somehow the tortilla chips were the main thing that I felt like eating. I had a whole bunch of those, and could slowly feel myself getting better. Dan had already arrived, so we spent time out on the back patio like we usually do, and I gradually started eating more and more. A little later I had bits and pieces of dinner, and then Jen even joined us, showing up from Illinois Masonic Hospital still in her scrubs, because she wanted to make sure that she'd make it in my journal. At that point it had become pretty clear that my sickness was just going to be a one-day thing, so I didn't have to call on her medical expertise. But it was good to see her anyway! Eventually I was able to make it out to the fire with Dan and Dave for a bit, and I even was able to finish the night off with a beer.

So by the end of the evening, I was not only feeling a little better health-wise, I was also feeling a little better about my "failure". I was able to see the Pryors, which was really nice, and I also figured that at least I'd be able to complete the ride under my own power tomorrow.