Earlier in the evening we'd been at PrideFest. It was around 10:30 and we'd just gotten a text from friends asking us to meet them in another part of the festival grounds. There really wasn't enough time to do any more socialising and still have time to get home and then over to the park at midnight so we just headed out. Paul, quite understandably, was done for the evening. I grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge and got into the car. It was a very pleasant drive over to the park. The weather was warm enough to have the windows and moonroof open. I was just wondering if I'd be able to easily locate where the relay point was when I saw a blaze of light just inside the park entrance, which proved to be the headlights of twenty-seven or so white team vans.

It was a strange scene - ranks of white vans, painted with team logos and slogans mostly filled the parking area while team members threaded their way among the vehicles warming up for their legs or cooling down from their legs or shouting status reports or requests for same. Carolyn called me from the van to say that they'd taken a wrong turn and would be a few minutes. I made my way through the lot to the exchange (is that what it's called?). Runners were emerging from the woods past an official who shouted out their team number so that the next runner on that team would be ready to make the exchange. A gesticulating silhouette revealed itself to be Carolyn. I had a flash of context disorientation - "Why am I greeting Carolyn in a suburban Milwaukee park after midnight?"

"258" was called as John emerged from the gloom, a headlamp aura supported by another black silhouette. The exchange was made, Edie was away and we gathered at the edge of the driveway for a quick greeting and group photos. Five minutes later, the van with its shark-head grille mascot and the Christmas light-wreathed inflatable shark on its roof pulled out of the parking lot. I followed in my car to the street where the van turned left toward the next exchange and I turned right to head home. A half hour later, lying in bed, I had to convince myself that it had all actually happened.

The next morning, Paul and I said toodle-oo and went our several ways, he to niece Katie's graduation ceremony at Oconomowoc High School and I to the Milwaukee train station to board the Hiawatha to Chicago Union Station. Our train station has had a recent facelift and is really quite a pleasant place. The waiting area is bright and airy. I bought my ticket and got some cash for the weekend. As I pulled the five twenties out of the machine, a little boy standing nearby said "wow, that's a lot of money!". His mother immediately began dressing him down "that's EXTREMELY impolite to comment on the amount of money someone takes out of an ATM - I never want to hear you...", etc., etc.

As always, it was fun to see the city from a different perspective. The train would emerge from behind a Third Ward warehouse and I'd suddenly be looking down on a familiar intersection from a completely unfamiliar angle. I never got around to reading the book I brought with me - I chatted up fellow travelers instead: a family on their first excursion to Chicago (I flatter myself that I was able to give them a FEW suggestions as to things to see) and a group headed down to cheer on other Ragnar Relay competitors.

I snapped a few pics of the skyline as the Hiawatha neared Chicago (the last pic is of the 6th Street Viaduct in Milwaukee, taken after we got back on Sunday - I didn't know where to put it). The walk from Union Station to the top of Grant Park was very pleasant. Something made me look up as I was approaching the building and I saw Jen waving at me from a balcony. Somehow I missed them on the way up and it took us a few minutes to figure out what had happened. The apartment and view were both gobsmackingly beautiful. More on that later. Cut to after Paul finished his drive down and we were all in his car on the way to the beach in Lincoln Park where the race was to finish.

Traffic was crazy awful on Lakeshore Drive heading up to the park. We parked in the lot being used by the race support vans having been told that we were subject to ticketing. On the way out of the lot we saw one of the "Jump the Shark" vans and introduced ourselves to those members of the team. Walking toward the beach we could see the orange, inflated Ragnar finish line arch rearing up from behind the edge of the verge. We found John, Carolyn, Laura and the rest of the team waiting by the side of the park trail where the runners were arriving at the end of the last leg of the relay. There we learned that Michael was the last runner. After chatting a while, Paul and Jen and I installed ourselves at one side of the poofy arch to witness Michael's arrival and the end of the race.

Presently, Michael arrived and crossed the line followed by his cheering teammates. As is evidently the custom, they jumped over the inflatable shark mascot which someone (Paul?) had obligingly laid in their path. For the next few minutes, I moved among the members of the team as they congratulated Michael and each other and talked about the race, taking pictures as Carolyn gave out medals to the team. Here's the larger version of a group photo I took.

I can't imagine what it must have been like to run in that heat - Michael cooled off by taking a dip in the lake as did many other of the runners. We stood in the shallows and chatted for a while. Paul and I went up to the cafe and scored a couple of beers. After a half hour or so we made our way back through the park to the vans and set out for our respective HQs to get ready for the celebratory evening meal.

To celebrate the end of the race and also John's birthday, we went to the Rosebud Trattoria - a lovely restaurant in the theatre district. Jen, Brent, Paul and I got there a little before the others and started with a drink at the bar. Once assembled, we sat at a long table near the windows looking out to the street. Appetizers materialised and we got outside of lovely calamari, bruschetti and caprese salads. The food was fantastic - Paul had a sort of sausagey pasta which was amazing.

During the meal I suddenly became aware of a great deal of attention being drawn to the windows. I turned around to see scores of naked cyclists making their way along the street just outside the restaurant. It seems they were there in aid of a protest against oil imports - a regular occurrence, apparently. The procession went on for what seemed like twenty minutes - cyclists in various states of undress sporting fright wigs, capes, banners, etc. Finally it ended and we turned back to the remains of our meal

After the plates were cleared, the staff brought out the lovely "Jump the Shark" birthday cake that Jen had organised. We raised our glasses to the runners, the race, the company and Our John.

After a lovely brekkie in the flat, we set out on a stroll through the nearby parks. We began by crossing the wacky, bendy bridge (Frank Gehry?) into Millennium Park. Walking across the pavilion field, we arrived at the Cloud Gate (The Bean) and fiddled about there for a while. It being a hot day, lots of people were splashing about in the fountain - I always (well, twice now, anyway) enjoy watching the projections in the glass block towers change to show faces playfully smiling and "spouting" water.

Through Grant Park and the ongoing blues festival to the Buckingham Fountain. As always my experience was colored (tainted?) by that "Love & Marriage" song going through my head - I hardly ever watched "Married With Children" but the song and the image of the fountain will forever be associated in my mind.

From the fountain, we walked back along the edge of the water by the yacht marina. I caught sight of a crazy-ass boat out in the lake - some sort of mega-yacht with a helicopter on top. When you got it, flaunt it baby, flaunt it!

The rest of the shots above are a mixed bag, taken on our walk to lunch down the pub and then to and from the embarkation point for our architectural boat tour. I made a nuisance of myself by hanging back to take photos and holding up the proceedings.

Behold, the danger of procrastinating on a travel diary: we went on a fantastic architectural boat tour on the Chicago River and were given a wealth of fascinating information about Windy City architecture and history, almost all of which I've since forgotten. Therefore, I am serving up an indigestible chunk of images with little or nothing in the way of commentary.

Anything? Anything? Erm, we learned about the distinctive "Chicago window" configuration: a fixed pane in the center and two (double-hung? opening up and down?) windows on either side. Uhhh... oh yeah, and we learned that a trademark style of building in Chicago is one that is divided into three distinct sections like a classical column - base, shaft and capital - the street-level section, often with a grand entrance and arcade, the middle section, windows with strong vertical elements leading the eye up to the top section which was often lavishly ornamented after the style of a column capital. Pyramids were an often-used element at the top of a building, as were large clocks. Oh, and we learned that the Chicagoans are fiercely proud of their sanitary and shipping canal (in spite of the fact that it threatens to allow asian carp and God knows what else into the Great Lakes. Okay, not top of the class, but at least I remembered SOMETHING!

What a privilege it was to stay in Jen and Brent's relations' flat! Fantastic! What floor was it on? The 18th? A thousand thanks to our absent hosts! I'd have settled for a cat-smelling sofa with a broken spring that pokes you in the back "just there", but instead we were accommodated in high style: all the mod cons, a gobsmacking view, lovely decor, all the fixings. While on the balcony I did have to resist the urge every twenty seconds to hurl myself over the railing but that's just me. It was like visiting the lair of the villain in a James Bond film, getting to enjoy the exquisite architecture, furnishings and amenities with the added bonus of NOT being turfed into the piranha pool.

From the windows (and the balcony, when I could screw up the courage to look anywhere but at the floor) one could see (from right-to-left) the Willis Tower, Millennium Park, the buildings along Michigan Avenue, the Art Institute, Grant Park, the Buckingham Fountain, the Field Museum, the Shedd Aquarium, the Planetarium, the yacht basin and France. To see a large panorama, click here.

In a way, I'm grateful for the "Fear Factor" blacony. Had it not been for that one downside (way down) I might have been tempted to see how long I could stay in the flat undetected after the owners returned, you know, like in that Wes Craven movie. Anyway, thanks to all concerned, me Bruddah, Carolyn, Jen and Brent, Paul, our hosts, the team, the staff of the Rosebud, the Milwaukee County Park authority, and everyone else, we had a fantastic weekend!