One of the best parts of living out in the middle of nowhere is that pretty much anytime I want I can just roll the trike out of the driveway, on to the road, and ride along unobstructed. While I certainly do encounter other vehicles along the road, even during the harvest it’s usually one or two at a time, and there really isn’t much competition for space on the asphalt. Vehicles approaching have plenty of room on their side of the road, and those coming up behind rarely have to wait for an opportunity to pass. For much of the year, the open prairie of rural northern Illinois really is a nearly idyllic space for cycling.

We are currently in one of the less idyllic parts of the year. Late fall, like late spring, is a typically disagreeable affair. The colors of late September and early October’s fall are gone, blown away now by the high winds and scattered rain showers of November. I don’t think Axl Rose was thinking of cycling when he penned the lyrics to his early 90’s power ballad (though - listening to the first few lines, it is possible he was thinking about getting a new bike...), but the title does sort of apply to what it feels around here. But hey, if you mentally orient yourself properly - which is sometimes easier than other times - you can just look at that wind as an opportunity for exercise, right?

It’s also an opportunity for other things, of course, which is why our little homestead and the surrounding territory is decorated with tall, white turbines. While you certainly can find string opinions about these items all over the internet, for our part they are really just a part of the scenery, causing little to no impact on our enjoyment of our home once we became accustomed to them. Or at least that is true most of the time.

But this past week all of that serenity and solitude was interrupted by something that almost never happens out on the prairie: a traffic jam.

I almost wasn’t sure what I was even looking at as I rolled up on it. The van at the back had passed by me a half-mile or so before without issue, but I suddenly seemed to be catching up to it, which is unusual in and of itself, and I was catching up quickly, which is unheard of. But that was because it wasn’t moving.

As I processed it, I began to look forward around the van, and realized what was sitting in the way:

What you have there, in case it’s not entirely clear, is a semi trying to navigate its way around the corner with an entire turbine blade in tow. One of the turbines had started to have a blade with the protective coating peeling away - this happens from time to time to time - and the company had brought in a new one to replace it. This was the truck taking the old one away.

And so, traffic jam as the vehicles that were coming up on it had to wait for to work it’s way around and through the corner. Unlike in the city or out on the interstate there were no horns honking, no one pulling off to the shoulder to see if they can drive around the impediment (and good luck with that attempt out here unless you’ve got four wheel drive and some monster ground clearance). None of that, folks just sat and waited. It’s one of the things that I love about being out here.

All in all we were all delayed in our forward motion for something like 3-5 minutes while the driver negotiated his turn.

And that’s a prairie traffic jam.