North DesPlaines River Trail Brompton Ride & Picnic
I’d written about visiting Glacial Park recently, and I was pretty sure I could fit it in as a morning adventure before a 2pm appointment in Northbrook. However, as I exited I94 at Belvidere Road and consulted Google maps to learn that I still had over 40 minutes of driving before me, I began to have second thoughts. Just as those second thoughts intruded, I spied off the right side of the road what looked like a very inviting bicycle trail complete with a picturesque bridge over a sizeable river. I drove a little farther down the road, pulled over, and checked Google maps again, confirming that I had just crossed the northern section of the DesPlaines River Trail. It’s been years since I’ve ridden on it this far north.
What the heck, I thought, adventures can definitely include a spontaneous change of plans.
After circling a bit to find parking, I unloaded my Brompton and a front-mounted bag filled with picnic and tea making essentials, and strapped a packable hammock under the seat, in case there was opportunity for some off-trail lounging.
If you have motorized transportation transportation and a bike with tires wide enough to handle crushed limestone, this northernmost portion of the 56 mile long DPRT gets you far away from crowds, weekend warriors, and people who think they’re training for the Tour de France and enjoy yelling “on your left” at anyone traveling at less than 15 miles per hour. My Brompton with 16” wheels and 1.35” wide tires handled admirably, but definitely did not break any speed records. Likewise, any hybrid, gravel, touring or mountain bike would be fine here.
The trail is peaceful and secluded, fairly flat and linear, but with enough twists to keep it interesting. It generally follows the flow of the DesPlaines as it threads through various ecosystems, including moist riverbank woodlands, oak savannah, some open prairie, and only a small amount of far flung suburban sprawl and development.
Glancing at my phone, I was very intrigued by Sterling Lake in Van Patten Woods, at the far end of the trail. I eagerly made my way there, anticipating unfurling my hammock and enjoying a relaxing picnic on the shady banks of a picturesque lake. Sadly, I discovered this lake is far more enticing on the map that in real life. The glistening body of water is charming, but completely surrounded by closely cropped grass, pruned trees, a number of clean but entirely shade-free picnic tables, and herds of pooping geese.
At the top end of the lake I backtracked, remembering that at its southern tip there was a bridge with a sign pointing to a Yellow Loop trail to the east. I didn’t investigate it at first, because my original plan was to find a spot on the water’s edge. However, this side trail turned out to be a very happy surprise discovery. Though away from the water, the cool, shady trail is quiet and secluded with plenty of trees. As I kept my eyes peeled for the perfect lunch spot, I came upon a series of closely spaced picnic groves (virtually empty on a weekday) surrounded by stately evergreens.
I used an existing fire grate to set up my minimalist Vargo wood stove, and collected fallen pine twigs and cones from the paved parking area. I love the idea of not having to rely on the fuel canister to cook food or a beverage, but after a few false starts with the Vargo on another trip, I pack a small supply of firestarter just in case. Luckily this time the dry and perfectly cured evergreen twigs and mini-logs started right up, and the quantity was plentiful to keep my tiny fire going long enough to heat my lunch and boil water for tea.
These quiet, solitary moments with nothing around but birds talking against relentless whispers of pine trees, an occasional pop from a pinecone dropped by a clumsy squirrel, and late-spring sun filtering through the explosion of greenery — these moments are priceless, and worth stretching just a bit longer, even if the price is having to pedal harder on the way back to make it back in time for that appointment back in the suburbs.