Although the adult home of the famed Lincoln, Illinois is a pass-through state this time around for me. I’m in one of those ho-hum funks that sometimes happen when I travel, and my curiosity and tourist energy are low. What better place to want nothing to do than Utica, Illinois.My mood means Utica itself is uninspiring. A wandering drive to its heart—the 1830s “Village”—brings me to the smallest town yet that still gets a mark for having old buildings and an RV park within its county boundaries (several miles from this quaint locale). The core town is about as wide as it is long (one block), with a couple of antique stores, a Cheatin’ Gourmet food shop (“dips, oils, wine, gifts”), a wine store, a LaSalle County Historical Museum. Unless you’re really into local history, old town Utica is one of those “blink and you miss it” kind of places, deceptively small until you realize that the city’s contemporary boundaries sprawl along a lot of county roads, farmland, an 1800s canal, and I-80.
This scene popped into view right before I turned left to reach the old village of Utica. I just loved the juxtaposition of new stainless steel and old brick steeple. This church is one of the reminders of the French presence in the area: founded by Father Jacques Marquette, who explored (and claimed) the area for France with Louis Jolliet in 1673.
What Rapunzel’s Tower might have looked like in steel...Utica calls itself the “Illinois Village for All Seasons,” which means its primary draw is the great outdoors. State parks abound, and the area offers golfing, water sports, an indoor amusement park. My spirit needs a walk in the woods, so I head out to Starved Rock State Park, on the Illinois River. The day is misty and rainy.
I like this park. Miles of trails climb through woods and up and over sandstone and rock formations. Numerous “Away” and “Return” tags help me stay on track as trails cross each other. Lots of birds and water and yellow flowers.
The river here is basically a canyon gorge, and it’s the site of one of the many locks and dams that take ships to the Mississippi River. It’s called Starved Rock because of a Native American legend in which some Illiniwek Indians killed an Ottowa Indian chief, and then fled to the top of a bluff during subsequent retaliatory raids. The Ottowa and their allies surrounded the bluff, and the Illiniwek, trapped on top, eventually died of starvation. (War Tip No. 1: Good viewpoints don’t always make good retreat spots.)
The Illinois River.
A double-length barge. This will take over an hour to get through the lock on the north side of the river (below).
Lover’s Leap seen from Starved Rock.
And Starved Rock seen from Lover’s Leap.
A romantic, if somewhat disturbing, visual image. I also hope dear Gabi learns about contractions someday.
This tree was still thriving, despite its mostly roots-up lifestyle.
Loved this tree on a rock column.
A bunch of feet-dragging 12-year-old boys, all dressed in red T-shirts saying “Troop 007 Normal Illinois,” caught up to me around this spot on the trail. One of them sniggered to his friends, “I’d like that kind of wood.” Other boys also tittered as they passed the sign, and the scout leader said dryly, “It’s not that funny, boys.”
