emptysea
Road warrior
Thread starter
My wife is an accountant and, like many in her profession, some of her Sundays prior to April 15th are consumed with preparing income tax returns for friends and family members. Today was her brother, sister-in-law, and nephew's turn to stop by the house with their paperwork and drink beer and watch basketball while she crunched numbers. Her father also decided to stop by, although he is a retired accountant himself and so has no need for Cheryl's assistance or, for that matter, that of any fancy computer program. I love her family, I do, but the weather looked good and once I heard "I have to work. Just be back for dinner because my brother is buying", I was out the door.
Like my friend Mentalyguitarded recently reported, I had no particular route in mind as I pressed my left grip and turned my CB1100 northbound out of my driveway. There was a fair amount of traffic for a Sunday afternoon and i decided that I'd just scoot on down to Sheridan Road for a ride along the shore of Lake Michigan. I could check out how The Ravines survived the winter and still be back in time for potstickers and Hot Pepper Beef from our favorite Chinese place. Probably a beer to wish it down, too.
As I meandered along typically boring suburban streets, I thought about Cheryl balancing debits and credits or whatever it is that accountants do. It dawned on me that, even in traffic on boring roads, riding sure beats working. This "sure beats workin'" phrase kept popping into my head with each car stopping to turn into a shopping center and with each green light that turned to red before I could get through the intersection. It became my day's riding mantra, I guess.
I had mantra'd my way across Niles, Morton Grove, the Village of Golf, Skokie, and a little sliver of Evanston. I was heading east through Wilmette when i realized that I was within just a few blocks of where I first started working and within just a few miles of the second place. I figure that my mantra put this notion into my head. A slight change in route took me past both places.
My first place of employment. Mid-Central Printing and Mailing. I kept the place clean, drove deliveries, fetched ink for the pressmen, and sometimes got to run some of the machines. My boss, John, was strict, but fair. I learned to be on time and to do my best here.
I worked there for a few years after school, weekends, and summers. I was lured away by the glamor of being a pump jockey at a gas station in my hometown of Winnetka, just up Green Bay Road a piece.
Fred's Winnetka 76 (although it's now a Mobil station). Fred passed away very recently. He was a very good man. He treated his customers and employees with respect and expected to be treated the same way in return; and usually was. He taught me the value of quality customer service and that the key to providing it was having empathy. In those days, we checked the oil and cleaned the windows on every car. Fun Fact: For reasons unknown, it typically takes 20% longer than average to clean a windshield on convertible with a pretty girl behind the wheel.
Fred's is about a mile from the lake, so I was quickly back on my unplanned planned route. As I approached Sheridan Road, I noticed that the street I was on continued east across it and looked like it might provide me a path down to the lake. Alas, it dead-ended at a private drive. Some of the wealthiest people in Illinois live along Sheridan Road and membership in that club includes "on premises" access to one of the most magnificent bodies of water on the planet.
"Entry Prohibited"
The Ravines survived the winter better than I expected, but the road really is in desperate need of resurfacing and the snow, ice, and the removal thereof have left tiny scree fields along the shoulders. The bare trees reveal the beautiful homes planted on the hillsides that are virtually invisible from the road from May through November.
There's a distinct lack of places to stop along this short stretch of curvy roads, so I attempted to capture a few pictures while on my "test run" through the ravines. I managed take a few more passes at speed, but still a bit slower than had it been mid-June, before turning west and south to complete my counterclockwise loop for the day.
The last interesting road on this loop is Forest Way Drive, it sweeps along to the east of the Skokie Lagoons, which are not in Skokie and, as far as I can tell, are not even lagoons. They are pretty, though. My bike is parked on the bicycle path for this picture. Coincidentally, my brother rode his bicycle along this path within an hour of when I parked on it. In a few days, maybe a week, my sister will be kayaking on the water beyond; just as soon as it becomes water again. I felt pleasantly connected to them both while posing my bike for the picture.
I found a new route back home that avoided, for the most part, the suburban grid with traffic lights every 1/4 mile. It took a little longer, but it was prettier, just not photo worthy. I arrived home with time to spare ahead of dinner. My IPA paired nicely with the Chinese food and they both paired nicely with time on my bike and some time with my family, too. Sure beats workin'.
Like my friend Mentalyguitarded recently reported, I had no particular route in mind as I pressed my left grip and turned my CB1100 northbound out of my driveway. There was a fair amount of traffic for a Sunday afternoon and i decided that I'd just scoot on down to Sheridan Road for a ride along the shore of Lake Michigan. I could check out how The Ravines survived the winter and still be back in time for potstickers and Hot Pepper Beef from our favorite Chinese place. Probably a beer to wish it down, too.
As I meandered along typically boring suburban streets, I thought about Cheryl balancing debits and credits or whatever it is that accountants do. It dawned on me that, even in traffic on boring roads, riding sure beats working. This "sure beats workin'" phrase kept popping into my head with each car stopping to turn into a shopping center and with each green light that turned to red before I could get through the intersection. It became my day's riding mantra, I guess.
I had mantra'd my way across Niles, Morton Grove, the Village of Golf, Skokie, and a little sliver of Evanston. I was heading east through Wilmette when i realized that I was within just a few blocks of where I first started working and within just a few miles of the second place. I figure that my mantra put this notion into my head. A slight change in route took me past both places.
My first place of employment. Mid-Central Printing and Mailing. I kept the place clean, drove deliveries, fetched ink for the pressmen, and sometimes got to run some of the machines. My boss, John, was strict, but fair. I learned to be on time and to do my best here.
I worked there for a few years after school, weekends, and summers. I was lured away by the glamor of being a pump jockey at a gas station in my hometown of Winnetka, just up Green Bay Road a piece.
Fred's Winnetka 76 (although it's now a Mobil station). Fred passed away very recently. He was a very good man. He treated his customers and employees with respect and expected to be treated the same way in return; and usually was. He taught me the value of quality customer service and that the key to providing it was having empathy. In those days, we checked the oil and cleaned the windows on every car. Fun Fact: For reasons unknown, it typically takes 20% longer than average to clean a windshield on convertible with a pretty girl behind the wheel.
Fred's is about a mile from the lake, so I was quickly back on my unplanned planned route. As I approached Sheridan Road, I noticed that the street I was on continued east across it and looked like it might provide me a path down to the lake. Alas, it dead-ended at a private drive. Some of the wealthiest people in Illinois live along Sheridan Road and membership in that club includes "on premises" access to one of the most magnificent bodies of water on the planet.
"Entry Prohibited"
The Ravines survived the winter better than I expected, but the road really is in desperate need of resurfacing and the snow, ice, and the removal thereof have left tiny scree fields along the shoulders. The bare trees reveal the beautiful homes planted on the hillsides that are virtually invisible from the road from May through November.
There's a distinct lack of places to stop along this short stretch of curvy roads, so I attempted to capture a few pictures while on my "test run" through the ravines. I managed take a few more passes at speed, but still a bit slower than had it been mid-June, before turning west and south to complete my counterclockwise loop for the day.
The last interesting road on this loop is Forest Way Drive, it sweeps along to the east of the Skokie Lagoons, which are not in Skokie and, as far as I can tell, are not even lagoons. They are pretty, though. My bike is parked on the bicycle path for this picture. Coincidentally, my brother rode his bicycle along this path within an hour of when I parked on it. In a few days, maybe a week, my sister will be kayaking on the water beyond; just as soon as it becomes water again. I felt pleasantly connected to them both while posing my bike for the picture.
I found a new route back home that avoided, for the most part, the suburban grid with traffic lights every 1/4 mile. It took a little longer, but it was prettier, just not photo worthy. I arrived home with time to spare ahead of dinner. My IPA paired nicely with the Chinese food and they both paired nicely with time on my bike and some time with my family, too. Sure beats workin'.
