The Last Ditch by Tom Paine

I headed off from Chicago full of an excellent breakfast and with my friends’ words of encouragement being drowned out by the roar of Speranza’s V8. It had been a welcome break from life in one anonymous hotel room after another and, though I am enjoying all the conversations with total strangers on the road, it was good to meet with friends.

The three rendezvous I had in the city were much helped by the coincidence that the people concerned were in Winnetka, Wilmette and Skokie – all on the same side of Chicago and within a few miles of each other. In a big, sprawling American city, it could have been much more complicated. I met two other former partners of my old law firm in the evening and went out to an excellent steak house in Evanston for dinner. 

Having rested from driving (apart from running around downtown a little) I decided to go for it today. I covered 480 miles in 7 hours and 40 minutes of driving, stopping only to refuel Speranza (twice) and myself (once). So far I have driven 2,860 miles (an average of 286 per day and 318 per driving day).

I am observing the speed limits more strictly than the natives now; graciously affording many young Americans in cars with go-fast stripes the chance to boast about having overtaken a supercar. Nonetheless, State Trooper Manke of Wisconsin decided to pull me over. If I was over the limit at all it was by no more than 2 or 3mph. The real reason to stop me, as he frankly said, was to check out my foreign registration.

Apparently, some less-than-honest Americans put fake foreign plates on their cars to circumvent registration requirements. In five years on the job, Trooper Manke had never encountered a genuine European registered car until today. He was polite throughout – a credit to his uniform – and was very pleasant and friendly once I checked out as clean. Having been warned gently about my rate of progress I stuck strictly to the limit (and was the slowest vehicle on the Interstate in consequence) for the rest of my time in Wisconsin.

This evening (Friday, though as the blog keeps British time the post will be date stamped Saturday) I am staying in Duluth, MN on the shores of the world’s largest lake. I can see it from my hotel room window, and very impressive it is. Tomorrow, I will go in search of the source of the Mississipi, for no good reason other than that I fancy the idea.

My Canadian trip companion for the next section of the tour has bagged a Corvette on favourable terms, but unfortunately it’s in Atlanta, GA. He’s flying there tonight to pick it up and will drive it back to rendezvous with me somewhere along Big Muddy on Sunday.