Harrisburg, IL to Murphysboro, IL — 51.6 mi, 1,314 ft
Charles made a huge deal about the stars aligning, blah blah blah, but here I am, a driver and a blogger, for the second time 🤯 — you’re not so special.
Moving on from the Charles-bashing, let’s talk about more important stuff. Sherie’s French toast casserole was waiting for me in the kitchen, so I spent the morning hurrying through my packing. At breakfast, I learned that an epic ping pong battle went down between Ishaq, Charles, and Tian last night — so epic that Charles and Tian slept at 3am. Charles apparently wanted to “psychologically crush her”… I’m not sure he succeeded (Tian cannot be crushed). During this recap, Sarah is constantly removing the top pecan layer of her French toast casserole slices because she’s allergic to nuts. Ramona and Greta gladly take it.
We left before 10am today (minor success), and I headed to a Dollar General to get the group some sunscreen and Ramona some non-mint toothpaste. I couldn’t find electrolytes, so I’ll order some non-fruit punch ones later — Ishaq loves the flavor but Greta and Ramona don’t and I prioritize them.
While driving later on, I run into Ishaq, who yells, “WAIT.” I slow down, concerned, thinking he needed something from the car. He gets to the window and slyly grabs onto the right mirror. I glare at him, realizing he just wants a free ride. I drag him along for a bit, but, concerned about crushing him, shoo him away.
Rest Stop 1 was a random grassy area. The only memorable part was a fluffy dog that gleefully greeted Ramona (and vice versa). He even tried to get a free ride in the car!
I continue driving and run into Ishaq again. Being the bum he is, he clung to the car AGAIN, this time on the left side to be “safer.” We make good progress for a mile, chatting for a bit, passing Ramona, and carrying him through a mini climb, before the guilt of cheating finally catches up to him. We bade farewell, and I continued my solo journey.
I arrive at Rest Stop 2, Crown Brew Coffee Co. I get a vanilla matcha latte, take out my laptop, and start writing this blog, all while eavesdropping on some cops interrogating a man in the corner.
I’m rudely interrupted by a call from Sarah. “Tian fell.” I jump in the car and meet the bikers 2 miles back, where a gravel turn took Tian down. I look down and Tian is sitting on the ground, her leggings ripped and blood showing. Sarah grabs her first aid kit from the car and skillfully cleans and applies gauze to Tian’s wounds. Greta provides emotional support, and Charles just stands there. Ok he actually helps a little. I’m standing around, sipping my vanilla matcha latte, watching this all go down.
Once Tian’s cleaned up, she hops in the car, and I drive her to Crown Brew Coffee Co. I continue writing this blog while others order lattes and eat their lunches on the cafe’s really comfy couches.
Everybody scatters, and Tian and I go grocery shopping at Kroger. She wants to make curry for dinner, so we struggle (I struggle) to find ingredients that are both yummy, easy to cook, and affordable. I spend five minutes deciding whether I want to make chicken katsu for dinner, overconfidently convince myself I can do it without a thermometer and stock up on chicken breast—then ultimately decide I’m not skilled enough after spotting frozen chicken patties and grabbing those instead.
We leave with yet again too many groceries to fit in our cooler, then head to Rest Stop 3 approximately 20 minutes after the first biker arrives there (sorry Ramona).
Tian and I arrive to a cute gazebo. I hand the bikers strawberries and unripe apricots. Sarah eats all the strawberries. Then everybody starts lounging about. Tian is on the table, Ramona is also on the table. Sarah is watching Charles scratch lottos. But where’s Greta? Ah ha, she’s laying on the grass, of course.
While I’m eating a delicious avocado-hummus-mayo-provolone-turkey sandwich, Greta comes up to me with a present. I’m afraid it’s a pile of mud, but she hands me a beautiful flower bracelet she made while rolling around in the grass. I’m so honored I immediately start taking multiple photos. But these photos aren’t good enough. They need to be more… heavenly. We enlist Charles and he takes a fire photo.
Here’s some bloopers:
After that mini photoshoot, Tian and I drive home. She listens to me spill all my tea for half an hour, and continuously comments that she “enjoys seeing how my mind works” (somehow this doesn’t feel like a compliment). We arrive at our host, Jessica’s house, shortly before a FedEx truck rolls up. Tian hops out of the car, signs her name, and triumphantly shows me her new phone, which she was stressing about all day because of the required signature.
I say hi to Jessica, bring all our bags in the house, get tired and sweaty and start recruiting others to bring stuff inside. Sarah manages to turn the leaf blower on while bringing her bike to the basement, and we struggle to turn it off as high speed wind is blowing in our faces. Joseph swoops in to save the day. I then help Tian prep for dinner then promptly ditch her once the cooking starts (that’s ok Sarah and Ishaq are helping her). Crazy Greta goes on a run, Joseph works on tomorrow’s route, Ramona and Charles fix up some bike chains, and I plan on continuing this blog.
Before that, I unpack my suitcase, prepare my clothes for the next day, then suddenly realized that a fate that had befallen Charles two weeks ago had now befallen me — I forgot my bib at Sherie’s. I frantically upend my suitcase just in case it’s hidden in a secret compartment I’ve never seen before. I then confirm with Ishaq, who did laundry yesterday (and when Charles lost his bib…), that bibs were hung to dry in the bathroom of the main house. I was staying in the room above the garage, therefore hadn’t entered the main bathroom since showering yesterday. And of course, no one else put leftover laundry in the car because I WAS THE DRIVER. I ask Ishaq for Sherie’s number, but get told no one has it — I should contact her husband, Brad instead. I text, I call, I wait, but no response. It’s 6pm. If I want to drive the hour back to Harrisburg, I need to go now. I decide to take matters into my own hands. Using my impressive internet sleuthing techniques, I find Sherie’s number online. She doesn’t pick up at first because of stranger danger, but after texting, she responds, and we coordinate a bib pickup. Luckily, she’s going to the Walmart Supercenter tonight, only half an hour away from Jessica’s. I bring my blog to the present, drive to Walmart, and pick up my bib.
On my way back from Walmart, I fill up on gas. The receipt doesn’t print all the way, so I spend several minutes sticking credit cards into the receipt slot to pull it out. Success! I look at the credit card number — not mine. I frustratedly walk into the store to have the cashier print out the receipt, and he offers me a free drink as an apology. I walk out of there smiling, a cup of sweet tea in hand. I am easily appeased.
I come home at 8:30pm to everyone enjoying dinner without me. I learn that we’re planning on leaving at 7am so we arrive to tomorrow’s host at 7pm (we’re biking 100+ miles). I’m sad, because that inevitably means less than 8 hours of sleep. And I love my sleep. I scarf down my food, help organize our still overflowing cooler, then wrap up this blog. I may be the most timely blogger of all time — this is getting published at 10pm day of. You’re welcome, and good night.
MIT Spokes 2026 