Our trip to Minneapolis last autumn on Amtrak’s Empire Builder is a good example. The blaze of colors along the Mississippi was breathtaking and romantic. We could have been on the Orient Express.
If there’s another mode of transport where “the journey” is uppermost, it’s biking. Biking the 23-mile Sugar River Trail from New Glarus, Wisconsin, is no “Destination Brodhead” but a great ride past grazing horses, Brown Swiss cows, wildlife, over 14 river crossings and through a historic covered bridge. Other trips we’ve taken on rail trails in Wisconsin, Minnesota and Illinois have been for the adventure.
“Only learn to seize good fortune, for good fortune is always here,” Goethe said. Several years ago, the Chicago Metra combined the best of both worlds by allowing bikes to be taken on its trains for free. “Yippee!” I thought. “I’m going to try it.”
Having commuted to Chicago for 12 years, I knew all the ins and outs of the Chicago Transit Authority and had taken the CTA bike-and-ride, but I wasn’t up to speed on the Metra trains. I decided to take my bike on a short trial run.
Saturday trains run north to Wisconsin every two hours. To be on the safe side I arrived early for the 1 p.m. Union Pacific/North Line train.
All aboard?
However, the Central Street Station, where we get on, has two platforms and two tracks and I didn’t know which track went north. The Metra operator I called laughed before saying “The sign on one platform will say ‘To Chicago’ and the sign on the other platform will say ‘To Kenosha.’” He didn’t know which was which, though. Unfortunately, at that station, the platforms are two stories above street level and you can’t see the signs until you’re on the platform, which meant carrying my heavy road bike, Old Paint, up two miserable flights of stairs.
Luckily, the Central Street Station has both stairs and ramps. So I ramped up to the west platform to find about 30 people waiting. “To Kenosha” the sign said, but to be safe I asked a man if the west track went north. “Yes,” he said. “But it’s confusing. Usually the trains going north are on the other track, but this one was designed by a British engineer.” I didn’t know if he was kidding, but I trusted him and stayed on the west track.
I arrived with 15 minutes to spare but was still a bit edgy. I wondered how much time I would have to haul my old beater up the stairs onto a coach. It was one of those old bikes with a frame that must have weighed 80 pounds. To add to my concern, the train was late.
Twenty minutes later, unintelligible sounds blasted over a loudspeaker: “Rorg, rog, covda, blahhsh.” Strangers turned to ask one another if they could make out garbled announcement. Nobody could, and nervous passengers were pacing, checking their watches and milling around the platform. Another 10 minutes passed before we spotted the Kenosha blazing lights and heard its horn. The problem was it was roaring north past the opposite platform, the one with the sign “To Chicago.”
Mass confusion resulted as the crowd took off down the ramp, struggled around the stoplight corner, sprinted under the viaduct and charged up the two-story stairs to the other platform.
I hesitated because I didn’t know if I could make a 100-yard dash carrying my heavy bike. At the last minute, though. I shot down the ramp riding my bike as if I were in a velodrome, braking and swerving and then bench pressing my bike up two merciless flights of concrete stairs. The sliding car doors were still open. The conductor pointed to one of the cars and I leaped up the stairs. I made it. I was still breathing hard as the train started moving.
To my relief I saw two bikes stored next to the priority seats with bungee cords, exactly like the picture on the Metra website. I added mine.
I wanted to go all the way to Wisconsin for a full day’s trip. Unfortunately, the trains don’t run that often on Saturdays, so I decided to get off at Wilmette, the next stop. I was still a little shaky with all the excitement when another odd thing happened. I’d seen several movies in which characters getting off trains were met by marching bands. But I did a double take when the doors opened. There stood a band blazing away as I got off, bike in tow. For a minute I wondered if this was meant as some consolation for the 31 passengers on the “1:01” to Kenosha? We certainly deserved it.
The band was part of the Wilmette Art Fair, however. I strolled past the art exhibit tents, proudly wheeling Old Paint as if I had just completed a Grand Prix.
Ride to Fort Sheridan
Undaunted by my earlier experience, my next adventure a week later took me north to the Fort Sheridan Forest Preserve. Fortunately, the Central Street Station loudspeaker had been fixed and there was no track construction to cause delays. So it was a pleasant ride to the 274-acre park featuring prairie, open oak woodlands, lake bluffs, pristine shoreline and historic military displays. Fort Sheridan was decommissioned and transferred from the Army to the Lake County Forest Preserve District in the 1990s.
The old army base makes for an interesting journey, with interpretive exhibits along the biking and hiking paths. One trail to the lakeshore features an anti-aircraft gun emplacement on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. The Bofors 40 mm automatic gun is of the type used to shoot down aircraft during World War II. It fired 120 two-pound shells a minute with a maximum effective horizontal range of 3,500 yards. Consequently, swimming and boating off the beach is not permitted because of the potential for unexploded ammunition.
Next to the killing machine stands a bird migration exhibit with viewing scopes and interpretive panels. Forty species nest on the fort grounds and another 150 species stop there on their migratory routes.
The fort bike trails tie into several other regional bike trails. The two trial bike and train runs I’ve taken have opened new horizons. Cyclists make good use of the loop around the parade ground, passing by the water tower modeled after the Campanile at San Marco in Venice.
The tower was the first of 94 buildings to be designated a National Historic Landmark. In 1917 Fort Sheridan was an induction and training center for men from Wisconsin, Illinois and Michigan. Lovell General Hospital was the largest base hospital in the U.S. and treated 60,000 patients during the 1918 flu epidemic, keeping it from engulfing the base. In 1944, Fort Sheridan assumed administrative control of 15,000 prisoners of war at camps in Wisconsin, Illinois and Michigan doing construction work and crop harvesting. The exhibits brought back memories of my Army days, and helped me again appreciate the “Greatest Generation.”
Fort Sheridan includes six wooded ravines originally used to train Army engineers to build bridges. The ecologically rich 77-acre Bartlett Ravine south of the fort was recently transferred by the Navy to the land conservation group Openlands as a nature reserve. The organization expects to spend $20 million on restoration. Their website, www.openlands.org, details some of the unique and rare bird and plant life at Bartlett Ravine largely due to the limited access allowed to the public.
My wife and I will cartop our bikes, but sometimes the fuss required is a deterrent so we more often end up biking the same old local trails. Also I prefer one-way rides, such as getting off the train in Lake Forest and riding the North Shore Trail back to Evanston. With out-and-back rides, you pass the same scenery twice.
I still have a lot to learn about transporting a bike by train. A friend who has commuted on the Milwaukee/West line to the loop twice a week for several years and has ridden all the Metra lines, suggests getting on cars furthest from the crowds. On diesel trains, only three bikes are allowed per rail car and a total of 12 per train. He also recommends checking the train schedule by cell phone.
The train back to Evanston from Fort Sheridan was packed with people heading to downtown Chicago, including some young sailors and their girlfriends.
The Metra UP-North Line presents many more options for cyclists. My wife and I still look forward to a trip to Kenosha and its lakefront bike path, a ride to Antioch and the Chain O’Lakes State Park, not to mention stops on five other Metra lines.
The sliding doors to adventure are open.
Bob McCray is a community college journalism teacher and writer, who lives with his wife in Evanston, Illinois.
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