Day 117 Pontiac 0 miles

6/9/2011

The pitter patter of the falling rain woke me this morning. It stopped after a bit but I couldn’t let myself fall back to sleep. I was expecting the day to be busy and I didn’t want to start it off on the wrong foot.

I was greeted with the most amazing pancakes for breakfast. They were made with wheat and flax seed so not only were they delicious but, they were also very healthy. I ate four pancakes followed by two fried eggs with a side of potatoes made with onion and cheese. My friend Sharon was the culinary expert behind this great start to my day.

After polishing off the meal, I called Ellie Alexander who is in charge of tourism for the town of Pontiac. She said she would pick me up with the town trolly if I could be ready in thrity minutes. I didn’t quite know what was in store for me but, I was earger to find out. I readied myself in two shakes of a lamb’s tail and found a real trolly waiting right outside my door. It was packed with tourist and for a moment I became part of the attraction.

After explaining to everyone about my mission and my journey, the trolley pulled up to the library and I was the only person to disembark. I was left in the care of Robert and he introduced me to Melissa. She was in charge of the children’s section of the library. There I would be talking to kids and reading to them two times over the course of the day. It was unfortunate that I had no more books left. I immediately sent a message to home base that we needed to ship some books to this town. Pronto.

As I mentioned yesterday, the kindergarteners were the youngest group I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with so far. That was right up until this morning. I tried my hand at reading a story book to three year olds. All in all it wasn’t to bad. But, in this incident, it was probably best that I didn’t try reading a book that was written for eight to twelve year olds. That group wouldn’t be in the library until two o’clock.

I followed Robert to the Route 66 museum of Pontiac. It is the head of the Illinois 66 association. I’m a couple days away from finishing this iconic stretch of road and I feel that it is part of my soul now. Over the course of the day I would be reminded of this several times. While at the museum, Kent from the local radio station had come to interview me. Followed by Lois from the paper. I was half in PR mode and half in tourist mode. When we finished with the press stuff, I bounced over to Lydia and recieved a tour of Bob Wildomire’s magical 66 bus. It was so fantastic I had to run and get my video camera so that I could film the tour one more time. The second time around I had the town mayor Bob Russell give the tour while we rolled the camera.

This town has a touch of magic in the air. The people are amazing and the energy is electric. As an art lover my next order of business was to tour the town famous for it’s murals. The wall murals are all over this town. One hundred and fifty artists stayed here and painted them over the course of four days. It’s a great touch and gives this place yet another dimension. Lunch time hit and I was treated to the best vegetarian panini I’ve ever had. It was in a little cafe in a building behind the museum. It was a short break as we hadn’t finished the art portion of the day just yet. There was still the wall dog museum waiting. Kristen gave me the tour of their wall dog museum. It is dedicated to dispaying the history or outdoor wall advertising. In case you don’t know what a wall dog is, it’s a person who paints on the walls and works like a dog.

Two o’clock was staring me in the face. It was time to shift from tourist mode back into Papa Didos mode. I dashed to the library to meet the second group of kids for the day. Melissa described them as the rowdier group. This is my cup of tea. I entered the activity room of the library just as she was introducing me. Since I didn’t have my books, we went straight into who I am and what I am doing. Then it was all questions for the next half hour. I always get a kick out of questions kids ask. I don’t think it will ever get old.

I headed back to the 66 museum to take in the veterans memorial. There I met Dave who’s father put together the exhibit. Again I was humbled as I explored the tribute to those who have given their lives defending this country. There I met back up with Ellie. She would be showing me the photo gallery with photos from the mother road. On the way up to the fourth floor, I met a gentleman named Antonio. This Spaniard shipped his motorcycle from Spain to ride his motorcycle on the old route. He doesn’t speak english and I took this as an opportunity to dust off my Spanish. He explained to me that he was searching for a small map that would outline the road for him. Apparently, nobody in Chicago knew where the start of this magical road was located. This isn’t the first time I had heard this. They say Chicago doesn’t embrace the 66 culture as much as the other towns.

The photo exhibit left me in a state of disbelief. I explained to Antonio that I had run past all the sights which were on the photos. I was dumbfounded as I thought about the journey to date. Downstairs a group of bikers rolled in on Harleys. They were a group from Norway and they too were beginning their route 66 adventure. There must have been over twenty bikes. Bob Russell and his wife Susan were with them. They had brought a family from Hong Kong to experience the museum. I switched from Spanish mode into Chinese. This family happened to be staying at Bob Russell’s farm house. They were here to attend the wedding of one of their sons. With the non-stop activity throughout the day, didn’t even realize I had been on my feet all day. So much for a day off. I wouldn’t trade it for anything though.

I returned to my wonderful host home and prepared for dinner. By preparing for dinner I mean taking a nap. After all, sleep is the key ingredient in recovery. An hour later, Sharon and I were on our way to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. All in all, Pontiac is an amazing place. I know I will be passing through here again.

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