day 3 (?) -- cincinnati to mt carmel, IL

so...starting over. [details on the new bike to come, but for those who need to know, it's a yamaha vstar 1300: fuel-injected, belt-driven, liquid-cooled.] given a tendency to confront mistakes/setbacks by erasing them -- as with a dent in the gas tank from my very first riding lesson under the watchful eye of the westside espaniard and st dominic, the repair of which delayed the initial departure -- a complete reset was tempting. scenic kentucky to tennessee to arkansas...but of course not. new bike, new route...no interstates still but not obsessive on the scenic routes either since I don't want to dawdle in places that are within weekend trip range. arkansas was still on the itinerary for a wrecked bike title exchange for an insurance settlement check, so I went with a northern passage through not-sure-which-side-we're-on border territories. US50 through indiana, southward along the wabash in illinois toward the ohio and then through river hills to cape girardeau in missouri. was hoping to ride along ozark foothills into arkansas, but the immediate destination was jonesboro in NE arkansas (insurance settlement check waiting), so more long miles in the bottom were inevitable.

indiana in a swath from ft wayne to bloomington and south is familiar, but of course not on the bike. so tall corn on broadly rolling fields, patches of woodland, quiet rivers with low indistinct banks, long-since faded towns, a general rejection of small-town aesthetics in favor of miles-long strip malls. was rolling by too fast to snap the iconic/cliched consolidation-victim abandoned high school and its only-in-indiana souped up outdoor basketball court with (now broken) glass backboards, but you get the picture. indianans have always struck me as uncomfortably caught in-between. not yankees, not rebels; too many towns for mississippi-delta rural but certainly not urban; rust belt but a still-solid farming backup; country pride but on the outskirts of four or five major metropolitan centers. this engages an insularity that's more than just 'we're different here' rhetoric. motorcyclists offered the low-five less often here than anywhere else. there's little state spirit other than basketball in indiana, perhaps because it's self-evident that a hoosier is a hoosier. out in force, though, were anti-abortion billboards that are more than religious fervor...they mark a confederate streak in the southern tier of border states like indiana and illinois, with choice just another sign of yankee imperialism. images flashing by for further exploration someday...shoals, indiana trumpeting that the town is known for gypsum, catfish, and jug rock -- evidence of the ancient sea all around, and a breathtaking view of the river from an overlook outside of town. the 'campania mall' in loogootee, indiana...especially for the saugerties slugger.

and then across the inert wabash into southern illinois. road-tripped to cairo and the confluence of the ohio and mississippi a long time ago, but had forgotten just how rural this 'downstate' was. when chicagoans head downstate for high school sports competition and to prison they very much mean a different world. soybeans and melons and steadily pumping oil/gas rigs standing alone in the middle of cornfields. the decay and slow disappearance of towns that's familiar from the delta has crept this way. crowding out the anti-abortion slogans were urgent warnings about the dangers of methamphetamine addiction. I ended up in mt carmel on the wabash, a farming town bolstered by the nearby gibson coal-fired generating station, apparently the second largest in the country (or in duke energy's portfolio, at least). standard deserted main street...where the lights are always flashing red, but to the east nearly forested brick-paved streets with well-kept victorian mansions. if you're looking for a grand old house cheap, this is the place. there's even a college in town. that and the electricity explains the prosperity, surely...other people's money flowing into town. I just missed AgDays, which were starting the next day, but I did learn that they'd have walking tacos...and a pre-teen beauty pageant. I found myself thumbing through the local weekend guide as I wolfed down carnitas at tequila's mexican restaurant, only to peruse pages and pages of smiling 10-year-olds. I felt a bit self-conscious / creepy, naturally, but puberty is apparently not an issue in mt carmel. the mexican restaurants in town hinted at some ethnic tension -- one emphasized its 'mexican-american' fare, and on the marquee beneath the tequilas sign was a reminder to celebrate the september 'birthday' of the US constitution. the south indian proprietor of the shabby economy inn express where I stayed assured me that this wasn't the case, that indeed he was one of only three minorities in town, not including the vans full of migrant workers staying in his motel for the watermelon-picking season. he'd moved from missouri three years earlier and was proud of his anomalous downtown motel (convenient, certainly) and had nothing but positive experiences with small town illinois despite his not-surprising reservations starting out. the standard odd assortment of downtown shopfronts -- antiques and the utility company and herbal supplements and hawaii vacations and billiards and tattoos and furniture repair...