A walk along the Des Plaines river

Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joes isn't hideous. It makes great mulled wine. Alone, I'd go for the Beaujolais instead of the Cab or Merlot, but I'm drinking the Cab right now and it's really not that bad. I'll buy it again for a cheap, weeknight glass on my own.

I planned on burritos for dinner and decided to hoof it down to Jewel for salsa and chips. It's an 8 minute walk. I came back laden with everything from their two-for-one sales: Greek yogurt, Brownberry bread, butter, Healthy Choice soup, etc. Note to self: don't buy 20 cans of soup when walking home. And stop being "nice" to the bagger. Just cut in and distribute the weight evenly in the bags. They bag them to be carted around in cars. They don't really consider weight distributions for us carless ones. It's inconvenient to wait until I walk around the corner, set the bags down on the filthy floor, and then redistribute. Just speak up; they won't mind (less work).

Borrowed a car this afternoon so that I could get out in nature. Had planned on Graue Mill (Hinsdale 30 min), but chose the forest preserve by Brookfield Zoo (10 min) instead. I hadn't been on this trail since the fall. It is completely snowed over, but it does have a path tramped down by previous walkers. From the looks of it, there are plenty of cross country skiers who use this trail. Now, why haven't I ever thought of that before?

That reminds me of my PE classes in college. I was required to take a certain number and I took the following: cross country skiing, downhill skiing. I love Minnesota. I went for several hours every Monday afternoon for free. Which then reminds me of my childhood in Idaho, when we used to take off every single Friday for 3 months to go skiing as part of our PE . It cost an extra hundred bucks but you got the whole day off of school and got to enjoy great skiing. I love Idaho.

But the forest preserve:
The beginning of the trail looks kind of dumpy and I certainly wouldn't use the picnic area, since it's right off of 31st Street. I tried it once. On a romantic date, complete with wine and blankets, etc. Imagine trying to sip and whisper sweet-nothings amidst the whizzing of semis in your ear. The trail, once you've passed the picnic grounds, leads to a sweet-looking retirement home, with a prettyish garden on one side. I've never seen anyone in it. But it's nice to know it's there. Maybe they look at it from their bedrooms. Today I saw a gaggle of Canadian geese, coming in for a breather and perhaps a snack or two. They coasted in around to my left, making quite a ruckus and then settled down on the edge of the garden, eyeing me suspiciously. I like the sound of their honks. They were higher and lighter than those made by other geese. It was kind of melodic instead of annoying.

I had a friend who once fell prey to an aggressive goose. He had decided to bike a large section of the I & M Canal on his own with the intention of camping overnight and then returning the next day. He lofted his over-burdened backpack over his meaty frame and then settled that dead-weight mass onto his too-small second-hand bike. He tucked in his under-used Bible at the last minute in case he was inspired to seek guidance whilst communing with nature. And then he set out with a whistle that lasted all of twenty minutes.

About two miles into his spiritual and literal journey, while deeply contemplating the proper ratio of bacon to canned beans needed for the usual camp stew, he was jolted out of his reveries by a loud beastly grunt. From his peripheral vision, he saw a large creature charging from the surrounding forest toward him. Lightning reflexes caused him to avoid certain collision by swerving hurriedly to the right, without apparent consideration for the canal. He slammed on his brakes at the last minute which sent the heavy backpack sailing over the handlebars, portly frame still attached. The bike stood on the edge for a millisecond and then collapsed, landing in the canal at the same moment my friend, and all of his worldly goods, splashed into the drink. He looked to his left and saw that his beacon of hope- his Bible - was rapidly sinking into the mud. A glance behind revealed the nature of his attacker; it came in the form of a goose. It honked victory at him from the embankment and waddled off. He lifted himself, with the pack, and the extra 30 pounds of water which had now seeped into his tent, sleeping bag, and change of underwear, retrieved his sodden Bible, and set his bike toward home. His great adventure would last a grand total of 50 minutes. Such a bedraggled sight may perhaps never be seen again.

He got no guidance from his journey, I might add.

You think I'm making this up, don't you? I'm not. It happened, exactly as I'm telling it.

The trail then leads through a meadowy area, adjacent to the Des Plaines River. There is a crane that looks exactly like the one from Mike Mulligan the Steamroller....wait..no...Mike the....well, what the heck is Mike anyway? At any rate, it looks just like something from that book. After that the path follows the Des Plaines for many miles. I used to bike it all the time. It really is a great place if you need a quick get-away. There are plenty of places to spread a blanket and grab a bite. I wouldn't recommend a snooze though. It's pretty safe, but you never know.