The Great Western Expedition

Today marks the 3rd Anniversary of the start of my 7100 mile trip to the Pacific Ocean and back. In honor of this landmark, I will be writing a short article each day from now until Oct. 6.


Day One: By the Rivers Gently Flowing

Although my journey would eventually take me me through 14 states, I only made it across Illinois the first day. Had I just chosen to cross Illinois, it would have taken just four hours to get from Ridge Farm to the I-74 Mississippi Bridge at Moline. However, I wanted to take a chance to see more of my home state, and therefore decided to take a longer route to the Quad Cities.

My journey for the day would be divided into two segments. The first would recreate a trip across the state on IL 16, a recreation of a trip I took while at Eastern Illinois University. The second portion would follow the Great River Road, taking me from southern Illinois to the Quad Cities. My itinerary set, my car gassed up, and my cooler iced down, I headed off for points west.

After making it to Paris, I turned on to IL 16, my road of choice until its end at the Illinois River. This road was a very familiar road, the way to my alma mater. As I drove into Charleston, I saw the familiar stone rampart of Old Main, and decided to check in on my old campus.

I turned down 7th Street, the road to my old home at Thomas Hall. A building had caught fire on campus just a few weeks earlier, and I wanted to check it out. I viewed the burnt roof of Blair Hall, and the still delayed construction of the new fine arts building. I was disappointed with the progress of the construction, as I really wanted to see how the new design might have looked. There were many other things I could have seen in Charleston, but I had to get going. I had a ways to go, and it wasn't getting any earlier.

Thus I headed down Lincoln Avenue and out of town, towards Mattoon. Mattoon marked an embarrassing moment for me, as my usually reliable sense of direction failed me, and I started off on the wrong road. Fortunately I discovered my mistake, and got back on track after a delay of only five minutes. It wouldn't be my last navigational error, although it was the most embarrassing, considering I had made the right turn before.

Back on the correct track, I continued west into the Lake Shelbyville region of Eastern Illinois. Never having been to Shelbyville before, i was suprised at how large the lake and dam was, and took the first of many pictures on my trip here. As I was rushed, I once again had to quickly leave Shelbyville, stopping only to eat a quick lunch at Pizza Hut.

My stomach full, I continued on, going through towns such as Pana, Nokomis, and Hillsboro. Although no match for the majesty of Yosemite or Yellowstone, I have always found a subtle beauty in the farmlands of Illinois. The drive through this part of the state was certainly no different

At Litchfield I crossed old Route 66, as well as its replacment I-55. Crossing the paths of Route 66 would be the first of many encounters with historic trails, although most certainly one of the quickest encounters. I'm sure I will get my kicks following this road some day. Today, however, I was heading towards the Mississippi River, and left Route 66 in my dust.

After going through the small county seat of Jerseyville, I finally came into the Illinois River Valley. Had I been crossing the Illinois on I-74, I would still have a good distance to go until reaching the Mississippi. Being that I was close to the confluence of the two rivers, however, it was but a few miles before I reached the Great River.

Although called the Great River Road, this name is somewhat misleading. From Kampsville to Rock Island, you rarely see the river, and many times are many miles away from it. However, the scenery is interesting, especially at Quincy. South of town are large caves dug into the bluffs overlooking the river. Seeing as Quincy isn't too far from Mark Twain's hometown, it isn't too hard imagining Tom Sawyer exploring these caves. At least until you see the semi trucks pulling out from the storage facilities in those caves.

After driving through more cornfields, I finally reach a stretch south of Nauvoo where the road parallels the Mississippi. It is a beautiful drive towards the historic town of Nauvoo, and I only regret that it was so short.

At Nauvoo, you pass the old homes of the Mormon pioneers. Nauvoo is one of the darker chapters in the history of the state, but you cannot deny that the Mormon temple standing atop the bluffs is a compelling site. I regret not taking any pictures, but it was getting late, and I was getting tired. I wanted to get to Rock Island before dark, and the prospects of that was growing dim.

North of Nauvoo, the drive wasn't exactly what I would call scenic. It was mainly the repetition of the same pattern of fields and streams I had been passing all day, broken only by a short trip through a state forest. The sun was going down, and I wished I was already at Rock Island.

About the end of dusk, I finally made it to the greater Quad Cities area. I crossed the Rock River at Milan (pronounced by locals as MY-lan) and headed towards the campus of Augustana College.

After taking my brother out for a meal, I went back to his apartment. Before heading to bed I watched a show on the Travel Channel about great places to visit in the West. Most of the choices were places I was planning on visiting. It was hard to get to sleep, but I finally did. I needed every minute of it, because the next day would be a long one.