First of all, let me explain how I got to Chicago in the first place. It’s not exactly “on the way home”- it happens to be 40 miles north of I-80, my best friend and favorite road (just kidding. Really. I have better friends than painful stretches of black asphalt). This trip was my SIXTH time making the trek cross-country—and each time we drive it, we stay in Joliet, Illinois. Each time, I say “we should go to Chicago!” and each time my dad says “no.” This time, I was calling all the shots. So when I said to myself, “Self, you should go to Chicago,” I was like, “Okay.” There also happened to be bumper-to-bumper traffic on 1-80 starting around Joliet and continuing on for miles, so really my only choice was to go north on 1-55, which just happened to lead straight into the heart of downtown Chicago. I was practically forced to go.
Once I actually got to the city, I realized I had no idea what I was doing, where I was going, or what I was looking for. The full extent of my Chicago knowledge included the following things: a) there is a big lake, somewhere… b) their baseball team is not too great, c) they have the worst airport in the entire country, and d) they are famous for pizza. As I followed the highway towards the skyscrapers, I started paying attention to the road signs—and I am ashamed to admit that I was looking for a large arrow that said “lake”. I finally found a sign that said “Lakeshore drive” and thought “Perfect.”
I started winding my way down this road, still looking for the elusive lake. I was about to give up when, all of a sudden, BAM. There it was. I started hyperventilating and screaming (which isn’t the smartest thing to do while driving 50 mph on a six lane road at rush hour)—but I couldn’t figure out how to physically get to the lake. I could see hundreds of people walking, running, and biking along a lovely trail, but I couldn’t see a single parked car anywhere. I was about to give up when I saw a sign from the gods: public library, next left. Public library = public parking. I cut across all six lanes of traffic and eagerly got in line to turn left. I drove past a huge park filled with thousands of people playing softball—which looked like heaven— until I finally found a parking garage, pulled in, told the attendant that I would bring back cash, and ran out to explore the city.
You should have seen my face. I was smiling so big that it hurt. Chicago is so cool. It feels like a mix between NYC and Baltimore, which happen to be two of my favorite cities. And to add to my love of the city, I was out on the streets for less than five minutes, on my way to the lake (finally!), when I got asked out. I met a guy at a crosswalk (he was waiting to cross, I was waiting to cross, he was cute, I hadn’t spoken to a single human being ALL DAY, and I was lost… ) — it was pretty flattering. I turned him down, though—as nice as free pizza would have been, I kept seeing scenes from the movie Taken flash in my head and decided that I valued my life over pizza.
Lake Michigan and the view of the city from the pier have to be some of the most beautiful sights that I’ve ever seen. Those boats, that water, the clouds… everything was perfect. After spending half an hour walking around and taking it all in, I decided to go eat. That’s when I came across IT. The hostel from heaven. I’ve never stayed in a hostel before, but I’ve had a lot of friends tell me about their experiences—and once I heard how cheap their private rooms were, I was sold. I booked a room for the night, made friends with the front-desk people, got a map of the city and some discount coupons, and I was off. Oh, I almost forgot—I also did the nerdiest thing possible— I went to the library and found a travel book on Chicago, sat down on the ground, and wrote a list of things that I wanted to do. Yep. I’m cool.
I walked around the city for a bit and ended up going to a local pub for the most amazing pizza that I’ve ever had in my life. I wouldn't really call it pizza—it was so incredibly thick—but it was delicious. I had to take my leftovers back to the hostel before exploring, but by the time I got back, I decided that it would be smarter to just go to bed and then wake up super early and run around the city. I fell asleep to the sound of the L train rumbling beneath me—it was magical.
When you drive cross-country, you try to get as much sleep as possible—driving drowsy isn’t the smartest thing to do. But my body obviously felt that there was no way that I was going to lay in bed and waste my precious time asleep—so at 5:45 AM, I found myself running along Congress Parkway towards the Sears Tower. It was so tall that the top of the building was actually in the clouds. Cool. I looped back around the city and passed the Art Institute of Chicago, which I wished I could have explored…I’ll save it for another trip. For sure. I ran through Millennium Park and saw all of the crazy art and sculptures, including “The Bean,” which provided the only picture of me, proof that I was actually in the Windy City. I ran along the Lake and out along a dock past a huge cruise ship and a fancy yacht club. I was the only person out on the pier besides an old fisherman—it was so peaceful. After enjoying the breeze, I headed back into the city and finished my run along Michigan Avenue.
The only downside to my trip was the fact that I left on Friday, the day that “A Taste of Chicago,” the city’s biggest festival, began. I saw all of the tents and stands set up in the park but I missed all of the excitement. I keep telling myself that it’s okay, though, because I also missed all of the traffic…
I met some really interesting and kind people at the hostel, had a delicious breakfast with my new friends, and headed out before morning rush hour began. I drove past the White Sox stadium and found myself regretting the decision to forgo seeing Wrigley Park—that is definitely also scheduled for a future trip. Traffic was great and I made it to Indiana in less than 20 minutes…I realized I was definitely on an ‘adventure high’ when I found myself taking the South Bend exit on a last-minute decision to visit Notre Dame. While the campus was beautiful and Touchdown Jesus was just as big as I imagined, it didn’t compare to the excitement of a night in the big city.
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