I haven’t even scratched the surface of all that happened on my trip. Much of it was just mundane, of course, talking at length with a group of bikers (motor), a chat with a librarian, or being surrounded by bar patrons eager to hear my story. There were many, many people who I asked for directions, help finding a campground or hotel, recommendations for local eateries, where the libraries-post offices-grocery stores were — all were extremely kind and helpful.
Streator, IL. After 88 miles with a 115 degree heat-index, I was hot and tired and ready for a long rest. The first hotel I saw was the Pine Towers Motel. This was definitely, by all standards, a roach motel. But it was dirt cheap. 25 bucks. I went into the office and the clerk was a young hispanic boy, maybe around 15. He was definitely a salesman, listing all the salient featues of Pine Towers. Since on my approach I could see some signage off in the distance, I asked him how far it was to town. Three miles, but the shopping and grocery stores are only 1/2 mile. I told him that wasn’t too bad if it wasn’t 105 degrees, and that I may be back, but that I was going to look for something closer (my Streets & Trips database had already told me there were at least two more motels a little closer to town). The clerk, still trying to sell me a room, said, “but it’s not too far, only a half-mile.” “Look,” I said, “I want a cool room, a cool shower, and then I want a short WALK to get something to eat, and then I’m going to bed. I don’t want to ride another mile in this heat. OK?” “OK, sir. I will be here.”
I hopped back on the bike and headed down the road toward the signage. The Town & Country Inn soon came into view and I pulled Jake & BOB into the drive and went on in. This was definitely more upscale than the Towers, and it had a pool and jacuzzi and restaurant and bar attached, and a parking lot that actually had some cars in it. “How much for a single room for a tired, hot cyclist, please?” The lady behind the counter, a nice looking 60ish woman with a name badge that identified her as a vice-president or something like that, smiled and said, “$58.” The look on my face must have told her that she had just condemned me to the Pine Towers, and without even another peep from me, she said, “Well, I can give it to you for $52.” “OK,” I said, “that seems reasonable (and it was given the relative cleanliness of the place). I have one more place to check and I’ll be back.”
The third motel was supposed to be another local entity called the Streator Motel, but it had been converted to a Super 8. I went in, not expecting much, and they lived up to my expectations. $69. “Whoa! Is that the best you can do? It’s much cheaper at your competition, and they have a pool.” No, was the answer. Well, thanks, but no thanks.
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I just didn’t want to deal with the Towers, so I went back to the Town & Country. When I said I’d take the room, the nice lady lowered the price, again unprompted, to $50. And you’ll probably want a ground floor room, and I assume you’re a non-smoker?” “Yes and yes and thank you.” We had a couple long conversations about my trip on various forays back to the office. I wish I could remember her name, but I neglected to write it down, and her name faded long ago in the multitudes of others.
Still, one very nice memory.
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Badlands from The Pinnacles, South Dakota, July 11, 2005
