In May of this year, I received an email from Elizabeth Taylor. This was astonishing.
But another glance at the subject line read “Conference Point Camp Reunion,” and Beth Taylor threw open a door in the heart of my adolescence.
I fired back the usual “Wow!” and “What’s happening in your life, and by the way, I’ll ride my bike over.” Then began the usual anticipation and preparation. Beth needed help locating other camp staffers. I looked for several and found two.
I was eager to take my Salsa cyclocross bike. The Las Cruces is rugged enough to tote panniers, laden with clothes, shaving kit, camera, I-pod, and road food, in style and grace. We removed the off-road rubber and resoled Ron Mattson’s beautifully built DT Swiss wheels with our favorite Bontrager Race Lite road tires.
My pilgrimage to Conference Point Camp took me north through Afolkey and across Hickory Grove, Walnut Grove and State Line Roads all the way east to Wheeler Road which turned back south to Yale Bridge Road. If you’re planning a ride over to Lake Geneva, there’s a boat landing on Yale Bridge Road just across the Sugar River where you’ll find water and a potty.
Yale Bridge Road continues straight east over to Bluff Road and the Rock River. A short jog north over the river on Prairie Avenue, and we were in busy traffic. Crossing Routes 2 and 151, a detour took me up the west side of the Interstate to a busy Route 75 interchange. Traversing the interstate, the traffic thinned as we continued north on a new four lane boulevard. At the stop sign, we turned right on Highway 67.
Highway 67 continues east past the Beloit Airport. Gliders glistened like huge gulls on this sunny blue Friday. We crossed into Wisconsin and followed County Road P.
County P angles northeast across Highway 140 just south of Clinton where it intersects with County Road J and Northrop School Road. We turned north and rode up Northrop School to Lake Shore Road. This road took us straight over to Fontana. Several years ago, we ran the 18 miles on a hot Saturday morning and were grateful to dive into Lake Geneva at Fontana Beach. I was happy to be on my bike this time.
Lake Shore is a pleasant road freshly surfaced in spots where I remembered it being very hard on hot feet. It is also flat, and my luggage laden Las Cruces rolled happily along as if under its own power.
Lake Shore Road becomes Brick Church Road at the big brick church three miles west of Fontana. We carefully crossed over US Highway 14, and cycled up Six Corners Road to Willow Bend Road. Willow Bend took us straight over to Route 67 just southwest of Williams Bay.
It would have been easy to turn north on 67 and ride that into Williams Bay along the smooth wide shoulder. But the lure of a scenic route took me down the hill towards the lake on Stearns Road. Alas, my loaded panniers were a real drag on the climb back up the hill on N. Lakeshore Drive. This took me back past the entrances to George Williams College Camp (now Aurora University) and the grand entrance to Yerkes Observatory.
Just as West Geneva Street and Route 67 bare left down the hill into Williams Bay, we rode straight ahead on Congress Street in front of the old school and turned right on Colle Street and left on Conference Point Road. We followed Conference Point Road down to the very end and the camp.
I had ridden 80 miles and was making a much anticipated grand entrance. Only nobody appeared to be around to applaud the arrival. I cycled up the steep hill to the Administration building and walked inside for the first time in 40 years.
Conference Point Camp has changed. Summer hire college and high school students who tended the grounds and beach, cleaned the cabins, washed dishes, and served meals to the large groups attending the camp are now gone. In their place are caretaking and catering professionals.
This weekend, the “camp family” returned to reminisce about past friendships and personal lessons working at Conference Point. Frankly, without the hustle bustle of young fresh staffers, the camp looked a tired and forlorn.
Today, TLC of so many buildings is much more expensive, and visiting group receipts are down from the days when this place buzzed with hundreds of campers and staff.
But Conference Point is still magical, and Beth and Dave walked up to the main chapel across from the dining hall to ring the dinner bell in the tradition of the good old days. After dinner, we savored Lake Geneva from the promontory and walked through the lonely grounds and large vacant old buildings sharing memories of our staff family.
On Saturday, our small camp family headed up the hill to tour Yerkes Observatory, the sprawling ornate spawning ground for astrophysics. I elected to go in style on my trusty Las Cruces taking extra time to roll about the handsome park surrounding the observatory.
On Sunday, I bid farewell to Beth and her family and pointed Las Cruces towards Freeport. The light drizzle turned to a steady August rain, and my thoughts floated over such a peaceful weekend reunion. Turning south from Davis towards Winneshiek Road, the sun peaked out to dry my sopping discomfort.
If you have the urge for a long weekend retreat on your bike, follow the route over to Conference Point. Their web site is www.conference-point.org.
