Here in Illinois we had a loosening in some of the restrictions related to Coronavirus beginning on May 1, and a part of that loosening was the opening of some (but not all) of our state parks.
The Hennepin Canal State Park was initially not on that list, but then it was added. I figured it might be a good opportunity to explore the canal trail further, so I decided to trek out to it last Sunday.
For those not familiar with it, the Hennepin Canal is a very large - if unusually shaped - state park. It consists of two narrow strips of land bounding the canal (of course), one running from Bureau Junction on the Illinois River east-west across about half of the state to the Mississippi River, and another running north-south from Rock Falls to meet the east-west portion just north of Interstate 80. I’ve written about it here before, exploring portions of both the lateral and vertical portions.
I wanted to explore a portion I hadn’t yet seen, and I wanted to avoid people, as much as possible, both for purposes of social distancing and because, as a general rule, I enjoy solitary riding. I figured the portions of the trail that bound towns and settlements would be pretty busy, given the pent-up demand for any activity, so I decided I’d begin in a more rural location. This is not hard to do for the canal - the word rural describes most of it. The last time I’d ridden the Feeder Canal - the north-south part - I’d ended at Route 172. That seemed like a good place to begin, and my plan was to ride from there to the junction of the two sections just north of I80, which would make for about a 40 mile round trip.
Route set, I packed up my trike and mask into the mobile trike garage and headed out.
When I arrived at the entry point for Rte 172 I quietly congratulated myself at my genius. There was only one other vehicle in the parking lot, and the occupant was inside, so I was certain that I was going to pretty much have this section of trail to myself.
I was, shall we say, something different from a genius. It became clear that I had not fully appreciated the degree of pent-up demand for outdoor activity. It also became clear that many folk may not have fully grasped the guidelines given for social distancing, group size, or face coverings. But I had my mask, and I quickly moved it from my bag, where I’d put it in the presumably very unlikely chance that I would need it, to keeping it on my neck so I could quickly apply it when people approached. And I applied it a lot.
I should say, tho, that encountering people was most common within a relatively short distance of a road crossing. Fortunately, there are long stretches of the trail that don’t involve a crossing, and these were as secluded as I could have hoped for.
As I mentioned, I started at 172, which is where I ended when I rode here last June. It had been a wet spring, and I’d encountered a couple of mildly flooded underpasses before getting to 172, but when I arrived there, this is what I encountered:
I’d ridden through the underpasses before, but I couldn't tell how deep that one was and, while I could have ridden up to the road to cross, I had ridden about as far as I wanted, so I let the flood waters turn me around.
I wasn’t sure what I would encounter this time, but I went ahead and decided to start where I ended. Fortunately, it was a different picture this time:
Not only was it not flooded, it looks like work has been done fairly recently to bring the trail under the bridge to a higher grade to help prevent it. I rolled on under and I was on my way.
The trail surface for this section was what I’d remembered from last year - essentially deprecated crushed stone (and packed dirt) with a fair amount of low-lying ground-cover growth in it due to a relative lack of foot traffic.
It’s absolutely passable on the trike, but the going is slow because the surface is somewhat soft. Mountain bikes soft-readers of various sorts would be fine here as well, but you’d be struggling with a road bike, I believe.
It’s also slow because the trail isn’t cleared well - there’s a lot of dead wood on the trail from overhanging trees. This is likely due to the fact that the park is huge, and that it had been closed for the past two months. I don’t remember that being an issue in my prior rides, so it may be less of a problem as the season progresses and park personnel can tend to the trail.
That said, there is a portion of the trail in this section that is - suddenly, inexplicably- paved. The paved section begins about nine miles south of Rte 172, and continues up until the point that I turned around (more on that below). I didn’t pay close attention to where the pavement began at the time, but it was easy to suss out by looking at my route speeds by mile:
In case it’s not immediately clear what I’m showing, the paved portion would be in the circled area:
The views are always everything you could hope for from this sort of location. Spring is underway, so everything is greening up, there are birds on the water and in the trees. I saw fish jump in the canal, a turtle sunning itself on a log, and a snake coiled around a branch at the canal edge. That last fellow I tried to get a picture of, but I was too noisy in my approach and scared him off. However, I did manage to capture this guy:
As you might extrapolate from the name, the Feeder Canal wasn’t designed for shipping. As such, except for at the very beginning, the Feeder Canal doesn’t have any locks. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t things to see for those interested in the history and construct of canals - What the feeder canal has - in spades- is aqueducts. The canal is carried over multiple small streams over the course of the ride, and the first couple of times you see them it takes a bit to fully process what you are seeing. You a riding on a trail with water to one side, perhaps a foot or so below you. But then you and that water both travel overtop another stream five to ten feet or more below you. There are also portions of the trail where you can see creeks running alongside and below the trail at the opposite side of the canal.
It’s a bit surreal because it’s unnatural. But then, of course, so is the canal.
The best and most impressive example of that on this portion of the canal trail is the aqueduct that crosses the Green River.
The Green River itself is also somewhat unnatural - it’s been channelized and modified to drain Inlet Swamp (successsfully - it’s no longer there) about 32 miles to the east as the crow flies. But for that reason it’s large and the aqueduct that crosses it is similarly grand.
My ride ended about two miles south of the Green River Aqueduct, and about four miles short of the junction between the canals. Why would I stop so close to my ride goal? Well, there were a couple of reasons. The first one was this:
I couldn't tell if this was a tree fall from the copse to the far right of the picture, alongside the road below, or perhaps something placed to purposely block the path. Accidental or purposeful, it was doing an effective job of being a barricade. I could have gone around it, and I absolutely considered it, but while it’s a little difficult to tell in the picture, the road to the right is some 15 feet below, down a pretty steep grade. In addition, I didn’t know if it was there on purpose (I know that is sometimes done), and if it was barricaded on purpose I didn’t know what I’d encounter further down.
It was also affected by the fact that I’d already had one flat tire, so I’d already been out longer than I’d anticipated (I am not a rapid tube replacer in the comfort of my garage, much less at the side of a trail). I decided to take the tree as a sign and turned around.
That may have been a better idea that I’d realized, because I got another flat on the way back. That’s right: My trip on this particular day was lengthened by the delight of not one, but two flat tires. They were both on the same wheel (right front), so I suspect I’d gotten something into the tire that flattened the tube it a second time. I also discovered that I’d used up my only new spare on the first change.
This meant that I’d have to do a patch, but it was challenging because it had been a slow leak the second time, which meant a very small hole. Small holes are hard to see, and I stood there for a couple of minutes, moving it between my hands slowly and wishing that I had some water I could put it in to find the leak.
Some of you have no doubt already arrived at it: I was wishing for water.
That’s right - wishing for water while standing next to a canal.
I took a moment to dutifully chastise myself for being a dumbass, then found a spot at the edge I could access, pumped up the tube and stuck it under the water. It literally took seconds to find the leak, and another couple of minutes to patch it and get it in. I also ran hands around the inside of the tire hoping to pull out whatever might be in there. A week and two rides later it’s still holding air, so I must have gotten lucky.
Those moments are frustrating, but they never fail to illustrate the fundamental truth to the fact that even a bad day riding is better than a day without. I was frustrated by the need to fix the flat, frustrated with the fact that I was out of fresh spares, but once I had my canal-water epiphany and got back rolling I felt like a hero and I was enjoying myself again.
It goes without saying (or saying any more at least) that I would absolutely recommend trying out these trails - Hennepin and the I&M as well - if the opportunity presents. But they do require planning. Particularly as you move into the rural areas of each, you are going to be your own support, and they are quite rustic. If that’s a concern, for the Hennepin I’d recommend riding the Feeder Canal - the north-south portion - in and around Rock Falls. The area there is well settled, has lots of stores for supports, and has an excellent local bike shop - Meads - which also sells and services trikes for the three-wheeled riders among us.
In addition, because of the slow nature of the surfaces, for either of the canal trails - Hennepin or the I&M Canal - you want to allot significant additional time for the distance you want to cover. My average speed on the trike is right around 12-13 mph, but I routinely come in under 10mph on average for the canal trails. If you are wanting to cover a fair amount of distance, I’d suggest you just plan to make a day of it. And if you do, it will be a good day!