No, not the cereal. Sherlock Holmes says it's useless to theorize before facts, so wait till you've read this.
For those few not in the know (I've been publicizing this fact to anyone who will listen), I bought a new bicycle, about a month ago. So I've been rediscovering Chicago on bike these days. This morning, I rode out early so as to avoid the noonday heat (Chicago's experiencing a heat-wave currently). Out on Roosevelt upto Lakeshore Drive, and then the obvious Lakefront Bike Trail presented itself, as usual. I've done the Lakeshore trail upto Belmont a few times before, so I had a vague impression I'd do the same thing, and then ride back home like I usually do, hoping that I wouldn't be caught by the heat of the day. Once I reached Belmont, though, it seemed a pity to turn back, I felt I could go the rest of the five miles or so to the end of the trail. So that's what I did. It was lovely, warm but the Lake breeze was reassuring. I stopped at Belmont to refuel self with water and biscuits. Then Wilson, Lawrence, Foster... and then the signs saying, 1.5 miles more, 0.5 miles more... and eventually, a sign pointing to the turnabout that signals the end of the trail.
The sun was up fairly high by now, but at this point that it said
End of Lakefront Trail, it continued on the next line to say
Beginning of Evanston Trail. Three miles, it said. Intrigued, I decided to continue. I remember driving to Evanston once long ago, most of it on Lakeshore, followed by Sheridan, all of it along the lake. I followed the trail till the Loyola campus, then it went out all of a sudden. I then stopped the next biker coming towards me, from the north, to ask how to proceed and where the trail was. Unfortunately, what they call the bike trail here is merely "follow the alleys". Luckily, he was biking from Evanston too, and gave me precise directions. I decided on the spur that "Evanston" was too vague, and that I needed a goal if I was going this far. In the name of the dozen or so people I know are/were interested in applying to the full-time/part-time/Executive MBA program at Northwestern University's Business School, Kellogg, I decided I would ride over there. He pointed me there, and I went on, through the alley system of northern Chicago.
And so that was the bike ride that ended in front of the not-quite-as-imposing-an-edifice-as-the-name-implies structure. White concrete, with lettering and symbols in brass. A wide building, one part of it much taller than the rest which was low, maybe two or three storeys high. But, the consciousness that I was within feet of Kellogg, the Number One school of business in the United States, made it an awesome experience. Called a rather sleepy Fi from there, to tell him what I was staring at. Called an awed and incredulous little flat-mate who (1) believed I was asleep at home and was astonished when told otherwise, and (2) almost couldn't digest that I had ridden that far from home on such a hot morning. Sat on the cool stone steps of the building opposite and munched on biscuits and water again. Then, because I had biked far north of the Red Line that I needed to get home to, I rode south again, stopping at the beach on the way, where a really colorful exhibition and sale of myriad local art forms was in full force. Took the Red line down from Howard. Reached home wet with perspiration, tired, dirty, hungry, with a splitting head, and with definitely a touch of the noonday heat that I wanted to avoid.
But I rode up to Kellogg today.
