Sandblasted

Friday, August 10 was a beautiful day. A bit windy but still beautiful. iPhone decided we needed to go for a walk. It had been too hot and humid all summer, so we hadn’t been on many walks, and iPhone gets cranky when he can’t go out.

We took our usual route up to Lincoln Park Zoo. Once you’re surrounded by the landscaping of the zoo, you didn’t notice the wind. So after checking on Waffle, Twinkie and Papple (aka, the tiger, lion and snow leopard), I left the zoo, and decided to walk along the lake on my return trip.

At the corner of Lake Shore Drive and Fullerton, there’s a nice little park. They apparently have little theater shows there from time to time. It was here that I realized how windy it really was. Waves were crashing against the shore, and even though I was thirty feet or so from the shoreline, I was getting blasted with mist from the waves. It was very cool. I love water.

I tried to catch some shots of the bigger splashes, but way too hard to time it. But here are three of the better photos.

This one shows how choppy the lake was. It was pretty insane.

So after stopping to take some pics and rest my back and feet, iPhone and I headed south to make our way home.

For those not familiar with the lake, there are two different walking paths along the lake. One is right on the edge of the lake – it’s the main bike path. Then there’s one maybe 10 feet west of it – and due to the waves coming up over the first path, everyone was on the western path.

Surprisingly, there were still a lot of people out walking and running and biking. I say surprisingly because as I got a quarter mile south, where the lake recedes and the beach opens up – you began getting blasted by the sand from the beach.

And by blasted, I mean, well, blasted. The wind had to be close to 50 mph. Sand was pulled from the beach and created this east-west wall you had to walk through. I was wearing jeans (thankfully) and a tank top (not so thankfully) so my arms and neck were getting pelted by the sand.

It hurt. A lot. Thankfully the wind was blowing from north to south, so I wasn’t walking into it, but it got unbearable.

I walked to an eight-inch (ish) rut that was only five feet from Lake Shore Drive. At rush hour. I was still getting sand blasted, but it wasn’t quite as bad. The only problem with that is that because of it just being a dirt rut, it wasn’t even and of course, having bad hips and a bad back, it was harder to walk and ended up pushing me to my pain limit.

I kept going for about another quarter mile, then I had to get back to the flat surface. Wind blasting my bare arms was better than the pain running up my legs and spine from walking on uneven ground.

So now, I’m walking in the sandstorm. My hat, which couldn’t be worn because of the wind, provided a shield for my face and eyes. I just held it up to make sure my eyes were kept safe (and my rather expensive pair of bifocals).

As soon as I was in sight of the LaSalle bridge, I made a beeline for it. A cyclist that was headed north—into the wind—had turned off at the bridge and was still there as I got to the steps. Now this guy was a hard core cyclist. He had ultra-uber cycling gear on. I stopped to rest in the shelter of a little building that’s right there. He said he was going to turn around (as I noticed a lot of walkers, runners & cyclists were already doing). “I don’t like getting sandblasted in the face.”

I didn’t blame him. It was bad enough hitting my backside.

After catching my breath, I headed back into the sandblaster and climbed the steps to the bridge. I was never so happy as the moment the sand stopped pelting me.

I dragged myself across the park and to my apartment where I collapsed. I don’t think I’ll ever get all of the sand out of my hair.

Ever.

iPhone was obviously not available to take pictures during the sandstorm part of the trip. He was safely tucked away in my pocket. Probably eating nachos and watching television.