Route 66: Chicago to Wilmington

Back in December, I planned a trip to Dubuque, Iowa and parts of Wisconsin. O’Hare is the closest major airport so I couldn’t resist taking a detour along the beginning of Route 66, which starts in downtown Chicago. I wasn’t able to snap a photo of the “begin Route 66” sign because there is no good place to park, I was by myself and city driving stresses me out—but I did see it with my own eyeballs, which sometimes just has to be enough.

I try not to start any new adventure without first fueling up on diner breakfast—the more historic the diner, the better. You can’t get much better than Lou Mitchell’s, which has been serving travelers since 1923, predating the creation of the Mother Road by three years. I’ve never been steered wrong by choosing a diner based on age, history and signage and Lou Mitchell’s gets an A+ in all three categories.

As soon as you walk into Lou Mitchell’s, you’re greeted with a donut hole and a miniature box of candy (I got Milk Duds), which is as good a welcome as I’ve ever received at a diner. My breakfast skillet came topped with a slice of ham that was literally larger than my face and even if the slogan “serving the world’s finest coffee” is a bit of a stretch, my cup was certainly adequate (and refilled frequently which is the mark of a truly fine diner).

I was a bit disappointed with the lack of signs and general Route 66-ness at the beginning of the drive, but my next stop was Henry’s Drive-in, located in Cicero, IL. I’ve been known to drive far out of my way or do some fancy maneuvering just to photograph a good sign, and Henry’s is a great sign—and luckily right on Route 66. The hot dog shop has been in the same location since the ‘60s and while I can’t vouch for their dogs, I am suspicious of any sandwich that comes with the fries on top (a tradition from the beginning at Henry’s, as indicated by their sign).

My next stop was McCook, IL, which wasn’t a planned stop but I couldn’t resist pulling over to take a photo of their Vegas-themed welcome sign. It looks new, but they tried and I appreciate the effort. I made a detour off Route 66 to see the Frankenstein Muffler Man at Haunted Trails, which was definitely worth it—if there’s one piece of travel advice that I live by, it would be: always take the detour (or in this case, a detour from the original detour).

Back on Route 66, I stopped at Dell Rhea Chicken Basket, which has been continuously operating as a bar and a restaurant since 1946. It’s a shame I couldn’t eat at every one of these historic eateries but I was still so full of ham (three months later I still feel like I’m full from that ham slice) that I just took a quick photo and got back on the road.

Route 66 takes you right through Joliet, known as the home of the Blues Brothers—even the gas station had a replica Bluesmobile perched atop a pole in the parking lot. The 1974 Dodge Monaco was built by the owners of the Route 66 Food N Fun Travel Center as a photo op and the car is just a shell—it has no fuel tank, engine or drive train.

Joliet is about 20 min north of Wilmington, IL, home of the Gemini Giant and my end point on Route 66 for the day. I headed northwest from Wilmington—stopping only to take a photo of the Sapp Bros. coffee pot sign—toward Dubuque, a three-and-a-half hour drive. I had driven all day and ended up further from my destination than when I started but I’ve never regretted taking the long way yet.

Muffler Man: Gemini Giant

When I started planning my recent Illinois/Iowa/Wisconsin trip, I realized that I would be able to travel a bit of the beginning of Route 66, which officially starts in downtown Chicago. My flight arrived at O’Hare at 8:30am and I was due in Dubuque by the evening, a 2hr and 40min drive if you drive from point A to point B without stopping—something I rarely do.

I decided that the furthest I could reasonably go southwest on Route 66, before heading back northwest, would be Wilmington IL, home of one of the most famous Muffler Men, the Gemini Giant. By the time I had reached the Giant it was 3pm and I was 3hrs and 30 min from Dubuque, but it was completely worth the detour.

In 1965, John Korelc, owner of the Launching Pad drive-in, paid $3,500 (more than $25k in today’s dollars) for the astronaut-themed Muffler Man. When Korelc retired he sold the Launching Pad, which eventually closed in 2010. The last owner refused to sell the Giant separately from the restaurant and in 2017, Tully Garrett and Holly Barker purchased both. They have reopened the Launching Pad as a souvenir shop and have plans to add food in the future.

The Launching Pad was supposed to be open when I arrived, but the doors were locked. When I reached out via Facebook they told me they had an unexpected emergency and had to close up for a bit. I’m sad I didn’t get to meet the Giant’s new owners or squish a penny, but I’ve come to accept these little disappointments as inevitabilities in life (along with the sun, which is seemingly always in the worst position for photos). Thankfully, they sell some of their Gemini Giant- and Route 66-branded merchandise online and I might not be able to resist buying one of these little guys.

The Gemini Giant stands 30 feet tall and—not counting his rocket and concrete base—weighs 438 pounds. After he arrived at the Launching Pad, a contest was held with local school children to name the giant. Inspired by Project Gemini, NASA's second human spaceflight program from 1961 to 1966, a fifth grade student proposed the name “Gemini Giant.” At least two other astronaut variants were made by International Fiberglass—one stood at Coney Island’s Astroland—but only the Gemini Giant survives today.

---

Gemini Giant
810 E Baltimore Street
Wilmington, IL 60481
Store open daily, 9am-5pm, the statue is visible 24/7 in the parking lot outside.

Muffler Men: Crystal Lake

Although Muffler Men are much more plentiful than their female counterparts, the UniRoyal Gals, or other fiberglass giants such as Big Johns, they’re still pretty scattered around the country. I doubt I’ll ever see them all—not for lack of trying—but I feel as if I’ve hit the roadside jackpot when I can cross more than one off my list at once.

Crystal Lake, Illinois, a suburb about an hour northwest of Chicago, used to be home to three Muffler Men—two Bunyans and a Native American (only my second time seeing this variant). One of the Bunyans is not currently on display, but getting to meet two new Muffler Men at once was a treat. It was also my friend Francesca’s first time seeing a roadside giant in person, and it’s always a thrill to be able to see things from a fresh perspective.

You can’t be my friend and not at least acquire a cursory understanding of roadside attractions, but she was still surprised at how detailed they were—which proves that there really is no substitute for visiting places and seeing things in real life. Both Muffler Men are mysteriously missing their feet (and wearing the same mustard-colored pants), but they’re otherwise well-cared for. The Amish-style beard is a bit of a head-scratcher, but I love painted details like the hint of plaid, the crossed suspenders and the knuckle wrinkles.

Both of the big statues that currently reside at The Greenhouse of Crystal Lake originally stood at the Ozzi Waterpark in Palatine, Illinois. The waterpark closed in the early 2000s and the property was sold to build a new retail strip mall. I’m not sure how the giants came to reside at the Greenhouse, 30 minutes northwest of their original home, but I’m glad their philosophy appears to be, if one Muffler Man is good for business, two is even better.

---

The Greenhouse of Crystal Lake
4317 S IL Route 31
Crystal Lake, Illinois
Even if the greenhouse itself is closed, you can still see these guys by pulling into the parking lot.

Muffler Man: Frankenstein

The first of four Muffler Man that I met on my recent Chicago/Iowa/Wisconsin road trip was this Frankenstein, located in Burbank, Illinois at the Haunted Trails Family Entertainment Center. Haunted Trails is about eight miles east of Historic Route 66, and about 30 minutes southwest of Chicago.

In hindsight, December is probably the worst month to take a road trip because most seasonal businesses are closed and there is very limited daylight. Although Haunted Trails is open year-round, the outdoor part of the park—where the Muffler Man is located—was closed when I arrived. Luckily, a very nice manager opened the gate for me and allowed me all the time I needed to take photos (unluckily, the sun was in the absolutely worst position for photos, but these are the risks you’re traveling with limited time).

This Frankenmufflerman’s origins are a bit of a mystery, but he allegedly came to the Haunted Trails sometime in the 1970s. International Fiberglass—makers of the traditional Muffler Men—went out of business in the early ‘70s, so American Giants theorizes that Creative Display, a fiberglass manufacturer located in Sparta, Wisconsin, used either a Muffler Man mold or parts of an actual Muffler Man to create this variant.

Although at first glance he appears similar to the standard Muffler Men, upon closer inspection you’ll notice some differences. The pants and hand positions are the most Muffler Man-like features, while the head, shoulders and axe all appear to be custom pieces. He has a wonderful, gruesome paint job and the iron bar stuck though his neck is a nice detail.

Haunted Trails is kind of like a creepy Chuck E. Cheese, and although I only took a brief survey of their offerings, I think it’s definitely the kind of place where I would have loved to have my birthday party when I was a kid—or, even now. I also loved the several screaming ghost trashcans that were scattered around and they prove my life philosophy that just because something is utilitarian, doesn’t mean it can’t also be whimsical.

---

Haunted Trails Family Entertainment Center
7759 S. Harlem Avenue,
Burbank, IL 
Open year-round, but you’ll need special permissions to get up-close and personal with the Muffler Man in the off-season.

Friday Food: Chicago Edition

I have one more Chicago recap post left in me, and I would be remiss if I didn't spend it talking about all of the (very unhealthy) food I ate on my recent trip. My first real meal in the city (not counting the hotel make-your-own waffle) was, fittingly enough, deep-dish pizza. I met up with two of my friends who were also visiting for the wedding, and we walked around Millennium Park for a bit before we started to get hungry. I suggested Gino's, since I had been a few times before, but it was a little far away and we were on a tight time schedule. Google came to the rescue, as always, and led us to Giordano's which is right across from the park.

We were told there was a 45-minute wait, so we put our name in for a text alert when our table was available. We headed out down Michigan Avenue to sight-see while we waited, but we weren't gone more than ten minutes before I got a text that our table was ready. We had already put in our pizza order ("Meat and More Meat"), so it wasn't long after we sat down that it came to our table.

This is where I preface my review by saying that I don't even consider deep-dish pizza to be actual pizza. I am a thin-crust, New York-style girl through and through, but that's not to say I don't enjoy the occasional mile-high, cheese then sauce slice when I find myself in Chicago. I put deep-dish in a category all its own, a cross somewhere between a lasagna and a real slice of pizza. Giordano's was as good as any I've had, but to be honest all of the different kinds I've tried over the years have sort of blended together in my mind. The abundance of meat toppings was totally tasty, and the location wins on convenience points alone.

The next day, after my three+ mile walk to Lincoln Park, I stopped for lunch in one of the zoo cafes and ordered a Chicago-style hotdog. Hotdogs are my guilty pleasure, and I continue to adore them even though I know they're totally disgusting, laden with chemicals and non-edible parts, and are probably killing me slowly. I'd never had a Chicago-style dog before, and I've always been somewhat of a purist when it comes to hotdogs. For most of my life I was strictly mustard only, but recently I've ventured into sauerkraut territory with excellent results.

I said yes to almost all of the standard Chicago fixins: onion, mustard, tomato and hot peppers, although I drew the line at relish. Pickle wedges were not offered, unfortunately, but I would have included those as well if it had been an option. I'm so glad that I decided to step outside of my culinary comfort zone, because the end result was delicious. One of the best hotdogs I've ever eaten, in fact, and now I'm wondering about all sorts of alternate toppings. I don't think my hotdog consumption will ever be the same (or quite so sad and plain) again, and I have Chicago to thank for showing me the way. I also managed to eat the entire thing without getting one poppyseed stuck in my teeth, which is a pretty big deal.

That night, I also walked to Navy Pier (racking up another three+ miles in the process), where I went on a mad hunt for caramel corn. The carnival atmosphere of the pier had me craving something sweet, and once I got it in my head that I wanted caramel corn there was no stopping me until I found it. It was harder to track down than you would think, but I was finally victorious when I found a Garrett Popcorn shop. I was all set to order plain caramel corn, but when I asked about the make-up of their "Chicago Mix," and she told me that it was a mix of caramel corn and cheddar cheese corn, I thought "When in Chicago," and made the last minute switch. It was definitely the right decision, and the mixture of salty and sweet was perfect. I managed to save some for the next day, by which time it had already started to go stale, so I recommend eating it quickly (not a problem).

My last food stop in the city was Margie's Candies, which I passed a few times on the walk from where I was staying to the Western stop on the Blue Line. I decided to check it out right before I left, and I'm so glad I did. It's the oldest ice cream shop in Chicago, and everyone from Al Capone, to the Rolling Stones to the Beatles have stopped in for a sweet treat. The place is a total time capsule, with tabletop jukeboxes and a huge menu filled with ice cream delights that they serve in huge plastic clamshells.

I ordered a brownie sundae, which came with an entire gravy boat filled with hot fudge, and was big enough for four people. I made it through half of it before giving up, and unless you have an enormous appetite, I recommend bringing a friend or two to help you out. Their sign has some of the most beautiful neon typography I've ever seen, and it's perfect whether it's lit up or not.

I left Chicago feeling like I was in desperate need of a vegetable (or five), but I figure I balanced my feasts with quite a bit of walking so I didn't feel too bad about it. I did, however, resist getting a Cinnabon in the airport, which I've never managed to pass up before so who cares if I ate my remaining caramel corn for dinner the next day?

Chicago: Lincoln Park Zoo

During my recent weekend in Chicago, I was staying with a friend who lives in Bucktown. I had all of Sunday to myself, so I decided to walk to Lincoln Park and check out the zoo. I knew it was pretty far (more than three miles), but I'm not scared of a good walk, so walk I did. When I plotted my route for the day later on, I realized that I ended up covering nearly ten miles just on Sunday, which is a lot even for me. It was such a beautiful day, and I made a lot of stops along the way so it didn't feel quite that long.

My first real stop was Lincoln Park. It was one part of Chicago that I had never been before, and there's almost nothing I won't try for free. I love parks and zoos, so I figured I couldn't really go wrong. The park was beautiful — a little closer in feel to Central Park than Grant or Millennium Parks— with tons of trees, athletic fields, ponds and statues.

On my way to the zoo I passed a marker indicating that I was standing on an old potter's field, stating that "due to various oversights, many bones likely remain here beneath the soil," which was just creepy enough to make me officially like Lincoln Park.

The zoo was really lovely, and completely free (at all times) which is pretty awesome. They had all the standard zoo fare — tigers, camels, giraffes, a polar bear, zebras, seals — although a lot of the animals were no where to be seen, and I'm always sad when zoos don't have penguins (my favorite). The new baby black rhino wasn't on view, but there was a baby hippo to satisfy my cute quota for the day.

The leaves had just started to change, and there was hardly a cloud in the sky so it was the perfect day to linger outside. I actually took the first of two outdoor naps (the other one was on Columbus Day, next to Lake Michigan) right outside of the zoo, on an incredibly comfortable bench by the South Pond. I have to say, that for park naps, Chicago's benches have no rival (sorry, New York).

No tourist activity is complete, in my opinion, without getting a squished, souvenir penny and luckily the zoo had a machine. I've been collecting squished pennies since I was a kid, and I make a point of getting one wherever they're available. They seem to be getting a little harder to come by as I get older, but I they're the perfect souvenir because they're unique and cheap. I have books and books filled with different ones, and I hope the machines (or pennies!) never go away completely.

I wish the Central Park zoo would take a cue from the second city and stop charging a ridiculous admission price. I definitely liked Lincoln Park the best of all the parks I've visited in Chicago, and if I lived there I'd probably find myself there all the time. 

Chicago: Millennium and Grant Parks

Columbus Day weekend I went to Chicago for a college friend's wedding. It was my fifth trip to the "second city," and while I was more than happy to return home to New York, I will finally admit that Chicago is a fun place to visit. I've always been very snobby in my attitude toward Chicago, but this trip was nothing but lovely. Aside from the wedding Saturday night, I spent the majority of my time just walking the city alone. I was occasionally joined by other friends, but like most of my New York adventures, I was by myself a lot.

I spent most of my day on Monday (Columbus Day, which I had off for the first time in my working life — thanks W. W. Norton!) exploring Millennium and Grant Parks. There was the obligatory stop at the "Bean" (aka Cloud Gate), which is pretty much my nightmare since it's impossible to get a photo of it that does not contain other people.

It is fun to step back and watch everyone else pose for ridiculous photos of their own, although I don't recommend getting too close. The shiny surface always has about a trillion grimy handprints on it, which always grosses me out a little. I want so badly to bring a roll of paper towels and some Windex with me next time and just go wild.

The face-changing fountains have always sort of creeped me out, but I did spot a rainbow through the overspray that lessened the creep factor just a bit. Grant Park was still recovering from the aftermath of the marathon, but you'll never hear me complain about an abundance of bathrooms, even if they were port-a-potties.

I visited Buckingham Fountain, which is always more gorgeous than I remember, and crossed the road to walk along the shore of Lake Michigan. I ended up scoring a super comfortable bench that I proceeded to nap on for about an hour, because I am basically a human cat. It was a perfect day, weather-wise: warm in the abundant sun, but with a chilly fall breeze. I got embarrassingly sunburnt from my outdoor adventures, and I'm pretty sure the nap in direct, afternoon sun was 98% to blame.

I was chased off my bench by a super nosy squirrel, who became extremely interested in me when I opened up a bag of caramel corn I had brought to snack on. I walked over to the Shedd Aquarium, intending to check it out, but the line to get in was absolutely insane. This New Yorker is certainly no stranger to long lines, but the line surpassed even my very high threshold of insanity. I later found out that the aquarium was offering free admission that day, but I've been a few times before so I wasn't heartbroken skipping it this time around.

I realized on this trip that everything in Chicago feels wide: the sidewalks, the streets, the people (sorry Chicago, you're Mid-Western through and through), the pizza and the parks. I still prefer the rambling trails in the Ramble, or the Literary Walk in Central Park to the wide open space of Grant Park, but it's a nice contrast to what I've gotten used to here in New York.

A co-worker of mine told me that my apartment would really start to feel like home after I had gone on a trip and returned to it for the first time, and I have to say she was right. This was my first trip leaving New York that didn't include Ohio, and that actually returned to New York. I had a great time in Chicago, but it was even better to return to my home, in the greatest city in the country.