Day 14 – 7/12 – Matteson to Joliet, IL – 23 miles

When I walked the American Discovery Trail the first time, following the southern route between Cincinnati and Denver, I took zero days off. That’s ludicrous. I suppose, in the end, that the walk only lasted a little more than two months, and I’ve had pilgrimage summers that were equivalent. Nonetheless, the physical demands on the ADT are far more substantial, with longer distances, more weight, fewer services, and a complete lack of camaraderie on the trail to reinvigorate you. Even more than the physical, though, is the mental grind. These are long days, with the walk often spanning a dozen hours. Once all the other mundane requirements of survival are accounted for, it’s almost time to go to bed and get ready to do it all over again.

Needless to say, I baked some off-days into the plan for this return to the ADT. At least nine, maybe ten (there’s still some wiggle in my Oregon schedule). I’ve just completed my first, having rested in Chicago while visiting with some alums from my last school, and it was a huge help. I’m fortunate, really–I have no nagging or concerning health issues. I don’t even have heat rash, which is a minor miracle at this point. The most aggravating issue I had to manage over the past few weeks was some chafing on my heels, but even that is fully resolved at this point. That’s good, too, because I’m now heading into my longest stretch of days without a break–17 straight days–though there are a couple of lighter stages mixed in there.

Today’s walk was tedious. The Old Plank Road Trail, which I had already invested some miles in prior to Matteson, continued due west all the way to the outskirts of Joliet. I shouldn’t complain. It was quiet, shady, easy walking, but it was a long straight line of monotony. Walkers are hard to please, I guess!

The reward for all of that, though, was an early arrival in Joliet and an opportunity to check out the Joliet Historical Museum. It’s an impressive display for a city of its size, featuring some fascinating artifacts and striking visuals (and equally noteworthy air conditioning). As it turns out, Joliet has plenty to crow about. The most famous site in town, with apologies to the original Dairy Queen, is the Old Joliet Prison (one of the city’s two major prisons, a genuine rarity), made famous by the Blues Brothers. In fact, the Blues Brothers will return to the prison in a month to perform once again. The city was a locus of national transportation connections, with the Illinois and Michigan Canal helping to link commerce from the Great Lakes to interior rivers, and all kinds of different railroads converging here. The famous Route 66 also passed through Joliet, a fact of great prominence throughout the museum.

What captured my attention the most, though, was an exhibit focused on the Joliet Township High School Band. Founded in 1912, with “twelve second-hand instruments and nail kegs for chairs,” the band quickly became an institution, winning repeated state championships over the next two decades. Across more than a century of existence, the band has only had five directors, demonstrating remarkable continuity. The current director, Mike Fiske, reflected on the importance of the band to the larger Joliet community, noting that, “There’s still this thing in Joliet where if they’re a Joliet family, they want to be in the Joliet band. There’s something really special about that. I never dreamt that someday my picture would be on that wall.”

I left the museum thinking about how Joliet’s band is the city’s answer to Peru’s circus–a galvanizing tradition that begins at the youth level, drawing in performers in their formative years, and then grows into an event that keeps bringing people back together as they age.

History, too, offers that sort of power. Walking through the Joliet History Museum, I reflected on how the city has always sat in Chicago’s ample shadow. (Just look at the Wikipedia article for Joliet; the word “Chicago” appears 27 times.) It would be easy to develop an inferiority complex. On the contrary, though, Joliet stands out in so many ways, and the museum spotlights each important, impactful aspect of its story in vivid detail. As we become ever more nomadic and detached from place, it’s important to think about the value of being grounded and rooted, sharing one’s own personal history with the history of the surrounding land and people. Pride of place can make us more invested in the common good, while also reinforcing our sense of commonality with those around us.