Bad Signs and a Mod House (days 32 and 33)

Monday was a pretty boring day - just drove from Lake Wissota to Shabbona Lake, an Illinois state campground about 90 minutes outside of Chicago. We ate breakfast, lunch (lefovers in the trailer at a rest stop), and dinner out of the pantry. The campsite was OK, but mainly because we were in a nearly empty loop. It was quiet - until the guy started playing his guitar at 2:30 in the morning.

“I’m done with this campground,” Juliet said early Tuesday morning. We were wary of Shabbona Lake’s glut of “don’t do this" signs and the inability to swim in the giant lake. (It claims to be the only lake ever intentionally made solely for fishing. Whatever.) The sign saying that “tire shredding devices” would be used after hours at the entry gate was off-putting as well. But the morning’s smelly and lukewarm showers were the last straw. We packed up quickly, got a refund for the second day of camping, and left.

It wasn’t that we hadn’t considering leaving early - we had to replan our trip for other reasons. The previous night, we learned that Indiana’s state government was fighting over approving a budget. Why did this matter? If the budget wasn’t signed, state campgrounds would be shut down - and our next planned stop was back at Indiana Dunes State Park. So we spent hours with the maps and computer, shuffling days around, freeing up time for other side trips later in the week. (We got a full refund from our Indiana reservation - normally you pay a big cancellation fee.)

Tuesday’s main attraction, other than sitting for a hedonistic two hours in Panera Bread: the Farnsworth House, designed by Mies Van der Rohe.

This “glass house” is famous in modern architecture. Battles were waged over building it (it was $34,000 over budget - back in the late 40s!), over its existence (the state built a big noisy bridge right next to it, seizing two acres of land), and over who ultimately would own it (a preservationist group had to bid at Sotherbys to get the house and prevent it being dismantled.)

We really enjoyed touring the house; it’s far too sparse (and glassy) to be practical, but it made us appreciate and want to work on fixing up our mid-century house again.

That evening, we drove back to the BBQ place near Indiana State Dunes that we had enjoyed so much before. On the door was one of the baddest and saddest signs we’ve read: “Closed: Ran Out of BBQ.” Back in the car.

We kept driving, deciding to put some miles under our belts. We wound up stopping at a giant Amish restaurant. (Outside of Elkhart is one of the largest Amish communities in America; many Amish work building RVs and the economy has hit them hard.) It was an odd place, with multiple large dining rooms, all filled to capacity. We got fried chicken with country ham and a delicious chicken “dressing;” sadly, my cherry pie was gloopy, although Juliet enjoyed her strawberry-rhubarb pie.

We spent the night in a Holiday Inn Express off the highway. Again, I surprisingly missed the quiet and comfort of the trailer. But staying at the hotel allowed us to make it to the next day’s destination on time….