31st Street Beach and Oakwood Beach (41st Street)

My childhood was not without pain. Though I grew up with a loving family in an idyllic place, I often found myself hurt and alone; for on the North Side of Chicago, I was but one of a small group of people who was the butt of other people’s jokes. This group to which I belong has a condition that somehow makes it acceptable to be mocked, belittled, and teased by others. The circumstance that leads to this institutionalized bullying? Being a White Sox fan.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand the appeal of being a Cubs fan. It’s a quick ride to the Wrigley Field on the red line; the park has pretty ivy and is the backdrop for awesome films like A League of Their Own; Wrigleyville is a lively area, especially ideal for people between the ages of 21 and 21½. And as much fun as I’ve had at Cubs games, at the end of the day I still would rather root for a team that, you know, wins? That at least looks like they’re trying? That at least cares enough to cheat? (What’s up, AJ Pierzynski!) When I was about 8 years old, I caught a foul ball at Comiskey (and when I say “caught,” I mean the man behind me caught it and dropped it and didn’t have the heart to take it away from me after I picked it up off the ground). The next week, I brought in the ball to show-and-tell and the whole class just yawned at me, like I may as well have brought in a dog turd that I found on the sidewalk. Then the following week (ok it may have been months, but the week difference helps me build a better contrast), a student I shall call “Harry” brought in a foul ball that he caught at Wrigley. He wasn’t even finished explaining how he acquired it before boys were jumping out of their seats to get a better look, asking how many times Mark Grace touched it, where his seats were, and reminiscing about the times they came thisclose to catching a ball themselves. And in that moment, seeing how differently they reacted to his foul ball than mine, I decided: it wasn’t any inherent sexism that caused the class to like a boy’s baseball story better than mine; it wasn’t that Harry perhaps showed-and-told his story more engagingly and enthusiastically; it wasn’t that the class genuinely did love the Cubs; the truth is that all Chicagoans overhype everything on the North Side while completely undervaluing the South Side, even though the majority of the time, the South Side is way better.

This North-South paradox, as I have come to call it even though I’m sure there’s a better name out there, is also true of the beaches. As Katie and I planned to go to 31^st St and Oakwood Beaches, I set the bar low. After all, hardly anybody ever seemed to enter or exit Lake Shore Drive around these parts, and the surrounding neighborhoods aren’t exactly Chicago’s most celebrated. I didn’t even put on a bathing suit or bring a towel to visit these places. And for that, I am so ashamed. These beaches, well, they’re pretty darned cute.

Both beaches have been renovated and updated during the past couple years. The neighboring bicycle and jogging path is freshly paved, but nearly empty, and a much better alternative to the cracked and crowded path on the North Side. The city thoughtfully landscaped the area with sustainable native plants, including beautiful prairie grasses that strikingly contrast with the nearby lake. 31^st Street Beach was nearly empty (though in fairness, it had rained earlier in the morning). The beach isn’t huge, but definitely accommodates the lower number of beach-goers. While we were there, only a couple swimmers appeared, but a local camp used a large area to play a game of touch football, and there was still tons of room to spare. It was heartwarming to see about 20 little boys and 1 girl running around in the sand (Michelle Obama would be proud), and Katie and I were pumped to see the girl run almost the entire length of the field to score one of the game’s two touchdowns (Michelle Obama would be even prouder). 

31^st St Beach boasts a photo-worthy view of downtown skyscrapers. Its piers thankfully block the view of Gary’s shoreline factories, but the piers themselves are very industrial-looking and kind of tetanus-y. The beachhouse has the requisite emergency-only bathrooms and a concession stand, though the stand was closed. We’re not sure what the story is there, but it’s likely that it opens only on weekends.

The best part about this beach is its proximity to 31stSt Harbor, a marina so new that about half the slips are still seemingly unoccupied. The harbor has special locker rooms that need a code to be entered, but I bet if you hung out around there long enough, you could find a nice sailor who would let you in, just in case the metal seats in the public restrooms aren’t your thing. There is underground parking at the marina (in addition to the pay-and-display street parking) and the best part is that on this parking garage’s roof is a naturally landscaped garden and THE COOLEST PLAYGROUND EVER. Seriously, there’s rock climbing and balance beams and tire swings and enough stuff that Katie and I are hoping that one of our readers will lend us their kid(s) for the day so we can go back to this park without being total creepos. (I mean, we already watched the campers’ football game close enough that we knew the score. This was not the time to push our luck.) Not too far from the park is a garden walk that lets you appreciate the sustainable planting, and a picnic area to enjoy some food in the shade.

Oakwood Beach is just one exit farther south on LSD, or a twenty-minute walk via the running path. (Another plug for the near-empty path: there are workout stations every quarter-mile or so.) Oakwood Beach is virtually identical to 31^st St Beach, except that there is no harbor. However, Oakwood makes up for that with one of the most spectacular views of the skyline I have seen. I know the views from Oak St Beach and North Ave are often celebrated, but I find Oakwood’s to be preferable, because you’re still close enough to see building details clearly, yet can see the entire city expanse, including Sears Tower. 

Oakwood’s restrooms are one step above “emergency”—they’re respectable! Hooray for lockable doors on stalls! Like at 31^st St, the concession stand was curiously closed, but this beach felt a little more energetic because it hosts the junior lifeguarding program, which basically looks like a small summer camp for slightly more capable swimmers. Our favorite part of this beach is how the shore slopes dramatically downward to the water—there’s probably a twenty foot drop from the height of the beach to the waterline—and the slope gives the appearance and feeling of dunes. You could lay down here and be perched at about a 30-degree angle toward the water; it’s like a beach chair, without the annoying beach chair! The sand was a little coarse, probably because it was only shipped in within the last year or two, but there are treasures within: Katie found a rock with crystals on it, and now she has her very own geode! 

Both beaches feature ample parking for $1 an hour; even if you’re not interested in the beaches, the lots would be great places to leave your car while you go for a shoreline jog or bike ride. While the lack of concessions at these beaches and the noticeable trash along the shore concerned us, the serenity, open space, and beautiful views from these beaches are enough to bring us back again.

Till next time, be kind—especially to Sox fans!

And p.s., we’re serious about taking one of your kids to that playground sometime. Just let us know.

Address: 31^st St, 3100 S.; Oakwood, 4100 S.

Parking: Available meter parking at both

Atmosphere: 31^st, “a geode in the sand” (get it? Like diamond in the rough, but more modest?); Oakwood, serene and charming

Food and Restrooms: Yes to restrooms, sometimes to food

Overall Grade: 31^st, B; Oakwood, B

Foster Avenue Beach/Montrose Street Beach

    Something traumatizing happened to us on this beach visit. Something that made us angry, that disgusted us, that made us regret seeing what we did. But I don’t want to start with that. No, I’ll start with a more pleasant topic, so this post will have some shred of innocence before it’s over.

(Did I hook you? I hope that intro hooked you. I really had no other ideas on how to start this so my fingers are crossed. And I’m not even lying about the trauma.)

    Katie and I started this day at Foster Avenue Beach. Despite the hordes of mating dragonflies in the air, this beach is quite lovely. One of its unique amenities is a grassy area that leads right up to the water, where people picnicked, strummed on their guitars, and dozed in the shade of trees. The beach area is sizeable, with more than enough room for everyone to spread out. It’s a family-friendly beach at its southernmost, but if you’re looking for some solace, it grows into an older, quieter beach farther up. At the northernmost end is a dog beach, and though I am not one for canines, admit that the dogs definitely left everyone else alone. And they didn’t even smell that bad! What Katie and I liked about Foster Ave as a whole is its “Choose Your Own Adventure” quality—all different sorts of people were there, and they all had a place to belong. If you’re going to the beach with a bunch of different friends, this might be a great choice because you can all find a little of what you’re looking for.

    The concessions are housed in a lovely, prairie-style building. We gave the food stand points for its fake cheese, and also note the contributions from Broadway Cellars, the Edgewater bistro. And as usual, the restrooms were (say it with me, folks): emergency-only.

    Also available at this beach is a rental stand for those covered family bicycles (you know, the ones that they have at Navy Pier that you always roll your eyes at, but you secretly hope that someone in your group wants to try with you?). The surrounding park is well maintained and a great destination for a day-trip. Our only complaint is that the beach itself was a little dirty, but considering how many kids were at the beach, a Cheetos bag here and an empty juice box there is expected.

    We then drove down to Montrose Beach, just a short trip down the lakefront. On the way, Katie told me how she discovered in her diligent research on Montrose that a bird sanctuary at this beach doubles as a meeting point for men looking to…meet up. I assumed that there was probably some bust 10 years ago where they found people in compromising circumstances and it has unfairly carried that reputation since, despite not really being a cruising destination.

Until we got to the bird sanctuary. Oh, my goodness.

    This is a family blog (hi Mom and Dad and Mr. and Mrs. P!) so I won’t go into too much detail, but let me just say that in the five minutes—no, even less than that—that Katie and I were on the trails in the bird sanctuary, we spotted more than thirty used condoms and open wrappers. THIRTY! And that’s before we lost count because we became so uncomfortable. Seriously, our nature-trail discoveries went from giddy (“ah yes, the condom! The American male often leaves one behind after coitus!”) to an unspoken agitation with these litterbugs. Listen, we’re not here to knock anybody’s decisions or lifestyles, and I’d be really upset if this rant were to be construed in that way, but honestly! Do you know who cleans up these trails? Chicago Park District day-campers do! Do you know how I know? Because I cleaned up trails with them a couple years ago when I interned at Shedd Aquarium! And there is nothing worse than seeing a six-year-old camper bragging that he found a long skinny balloon, except for seeing his friend return with a long skinny green balloon with bumps (a.k.a., ribs) all over it. And then imagine having to explain to the six-year-olds to DROP THE BALLOONS IMMEDIATELY OH MY GOD WASH YOUR HANDS NOW I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING!!!

 

Ahem. Just clean up after yourselves, k? Thanks.

    Anyway, we progressed to Montrose Beach from here, and decided not to let our experience in the sanctuary (oh my gosh in my anger I almost forgot to say—there is an awesome view of the skyline from the sanctuary—picture a layer of trees, the lake, and then the architecture) influence our perception of the beach itself. This beach, people, is HUGE! It’s so big that an entire outdoor gymnasium (with parallel bars and a spot for floor exercises and everything) was set up for a Beach Meet and it hardly took up any of the space at all. (Montrose Beach: 1, Oak Street Beach: 0.) Unlike the rest of Chicago’s eastern-facing beaches, Montrose faces North/Northeast, and for some reason that slight shift lends an entirely different atmosphere here. At the top of the beach is a boathouse with the requisite emergency-only bathrooms, but more excitingly, a full-service bar and restaurant! This place was hopping the whole time we were there, and there’s even a performance area to the side for bands to perform. The perfect place to sip on a Corona and listen to some live reggae. The concessions also had a healthy variety of fancy coffee-drinks, making this a great destination even after it starts to get chilly.

    Between the bustling restaurant, the immense size of the sandy plot, and the five kite-surfers on the water (it was a windy and wavy day), this beach has a feeling that is more California than Chicago. In addition to kite-surfing, there is jet-skiing and banana boating, beach soccer, and beach volleyball. And let me assure you, there is plenty of room for everyone.

    There are also vendors who come by offering ice cream, inflatables, cotton candy, bracelets, etc., but none are pushy. Katie stopped a vendor who was dragging a suitcase across the beach as he yelled out that he had maxi-dresses and she asked to see his goods. The vendor (whose name is actually Johnny) had an impressive selection for a great price, and though Katie and I had no money, nor any intention of buying anything, he was able to sell 3 dresses to surrounding people who apparently didn’t want to be the ones to ask a stranger to open his suitcase for them on the beach. Word is, Johnny’s got a connection to get some iPhone cases that normally go for $50, and he’ll sell them for $20. We didn’t ask what that connection was, but promised to spread the word so future beach-goers would be prepared to buy.

    We felt very relaxed at this beach (or would have, if the lifeguards didn’t announce that there were three missing kids and therefore cleared the water of all swimmers—don’t worry, they eventually found the kids, or they just gave up looking and let everyone back in). The sun was on our backs and we didn’t have that sweating-to-death feeling that has been all too commonplace this summer. We refused to look at our phones because we never wanted it to be time to go. It’s a great beach, but we worry that on other days, between all the sports and whatnot, it might get a little too busy to be relaxing. Still, if you, like 99% of Chicagoans I talk to, love the beach but are totally sick of North Ave, this is a great alternative that isn’t quite as far as some of the other bigger beaches.

Until next time, be kind and use protection! (Duh, I mean SPF 30, you sickos.)

Address: Foster Ave, 5200 N.; Montrose Ave, 4400 N.

Parking: Lot and street parking available, some free and some $1/hour, might be harder to find on weekends

Atmosphere: Foster, pleasant; Montrose, California-esque

Food/Restrooms: Yes to both

Overall Grade: Foster Ave, A- ; Montrose Ave, A-

12th Street Beach

    It has been a hot summer here in Chicago. Like, really hot. I actually prefer warm temperatures (I get goosebumps if our air conditioner is set any lower than 78) but even I have to admit that there have been some insufferable days. On the most insufferable day last week (the thermometer flirted with 99 degrees, before humidity), Katie and I went to 12th street beach on the Museum Campus. While going to the beach on a devastatingly hot day might sound like a logical choice, there
are some days when you would be crazy to leave your comfortably air-conditioned home or office. This was one of those days. 

    I’m going to do my best to separate the stifling heat we experienced from our impression of the beach itself, but I feel it’s only fair to warn that this is not a hot-weather beach. You’ll want to find someplace bigger with more space to spread out and diffuse the noise (like Montrose, Hollywood, or Loyola) if you’re genuinely seeking to cool off.

    Anyway, this beach is on the Museum Campus, between Northerly Island and the Adler Planetarium. In the summer, the area swarms with people who don’t know what they’re doing or where they’re going, so driving demands a little patience. (Try not to swear at the cars with Minnesota license plates. It’s not their fault they’re from Minnesota.) When Katie and I drove in separately, we were disappointed to see that the beach parking area was closed off because they needed the space to prepare for some concert at Northerly Island, but we found the secret to getting through closed roads in Chicago: ask nicely if you can be let in. Katie went with the, “I’m trying to get to the building at Northerly Island!” excuse and was bumped right through; a few minutes later, I waved my hand at the guard and said “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” and he looked at me like I was crazy, so then I also mumbled something about Northerly Island. So we were let in and found tons of parking for $1/hour, but we’re not sure if it will always be that easy. (Side note/opportunity to vent: apparently while in the parking lot I ran over some sort of screw that punctured my tire in a place where it couldn’t be patched, so my $2 parking steal became a $150 tire replacement. Careful where you walk.)   

    We first walked among the meadows of Northerly Island, a place Katie and I have fond memories of from summers when there wasn’t a major drought. This year, I was worried that the reflection of my car key on the grass would start a raging inferno, so it wasn’t quite the relaxing natural refuge I would have preferred, but I’d recommend returning closer to Fall. Just leave your magnifying glass and lighter fluid at home, please.

    Just north of there is the beach, which is rather small, but very nice. There is a dramatic curve to the beach, which Katie pointed out had the effect of making Lake Michigan seem like a smaller vacation lake. There isn’t a ton of sandy area, which contributes to that vacation-lake feeling. It is amphitheater-style, which is always a nice way to immerse yourself in the setting. However, the curved amphitheater also amplifies the noise, cutting down on the relaxation factor. The sand is good quality and the water is clean (believe us on this point—most of this review was written while knee deep). And if you position yourself just right, you won’t be able to see the factories on the Indiana shore!

    For obvious reasons, the beach was crowded that day, mostly filled with day campers. I don’t know about you, but I get anxiety around large groups of children as a crushing burden of responsibility falls on my shoulders (people always think that I’m joking when I say this, but I’m really not!). Katie handled them pretty well, but if you’re anything like me (ok I know nobody else out there has this anxiety, but please just humor me so I can feel slightly more normal) you’ll want a beach with a bigger sand area so you can avoid the groups.

    The concession stand is nicer than expected—in addition to normal fare, there are lots of Mexican favorites (like tortas, elotes, and tacos) from the Little Village restaurant Del Campo. And, to answer your burning question, they do have fake cheese! Katie partook in some elotes (corn with a delicious mix of mayo, butter, salt, lime, and chili powder) and it looked and smelled amazing. If I hadn’t felt like my internal organs were melting, I totally would have stolen her food.

    There are restrooms here, but I’d only recommend using them if you can’t find a nice looking shrub to do your business in first.

    The views of the Loop from 12th Street Beach (which should technically be 13th St Beach, but you know, superstition) are amazing, and the short walks to Northerly Island, Burnham Harbor, and three world-class museums make for a great day-trip. It’s a kid-friendly location, and one of those beaches that will still be a great destination even after beach season. Don’t forget to check out the area bike paths, too.

Until next time, be kind and hydrate!

Location: 1300 S. (exit Lake Shore Drive at 18th Street and follow signs to Northerly Island)

Parking: It’s there, but you need to turn on the charm or brace for a long walk

Atmosphere: Kid-friendly, vacationlike

Food/Restrooms: Yes to both

Overall Grade: B+

North Ave/Oak Street/Ohio Street

    Do you remember those first parties you went to back in college? You roamed the streets, listening for the loudest fraternity, and when you found it, scaled down damp (why were they always damp?) basement steps that led to an overcrowded room. They blasted horrible music (50 Cent’s “It’s Yo’ Birthday” comes to mind) and it took forever to find a clean plastic cup—I think we may have once or twice just re-used one that somebody else had put down. Eww college. So then you finally find the keg (yes I’m switching to present tense here, and I hope it helps you feel “in the moment”), and the beer is warm and flat and even if it were cold and carbonated it would have tasted like crap because honestly, Icehouse? Who buys a keg of that? So you’re standing in a corner with people you hardly know and aren’t even sure you like, listening to the repetitive bass line of horrible music that instructs all the men to smack their bitches up, clutching onto a horrible drink that is actually a petri dish for those weird diseases that only exist on college campuses, and all the while wanting to leave so you can go try that grilled cheese sandwich with a piece of pizza in the middle that the union serves. But you don’t leave. Because you’re at college, and isn’t college awesome? It’s Tuesday night, and you’re in a basement! At a party! For the four years of high school, people told you, just wait till college! You’ll go to awesome parties! In basements! On Tuesday nights! So fun! And so you think, maybe if I just clutch this cup a little tighter, or find some way to enjoy the thumping on this stereo, I can start to have fun. Everybody else around me is having fun! Just do what they’re doing and I will have fun! So you stand there in the corner for about three hours, and never once have fun. Two years later when you recount this memory with your friends, it comes to light that, in fact, nobody had fun. Not one person enjoyed parties in damp fraternity basements, but year after year, people went anyway because they thought they should, only to be repeatedly disappointed.

Ever been to North Avenue Beach? Exact same thing.

    Okay, here’s the truth. Katie and I have been to North Ave Beach more times than we can count. We were prepared to eviscerate this beach, to rage against its idiocy and to ridicule anybody who defends it. Too many horrible experiences of 11-year-olds asking me for weed; of those same fraternity boys drinking the same crappy beer and playing their misogynistic rap too loudly even though it’s pretty clear even they don’t like it; of overcrowding and sexual harassment and will someone please take responsibility for this child that has now kicked sand in my hair eight times?!

    But Katie and I found the secret to enjoying North Ave Beach: remove all the people. It becomes a haven, a blessing, a wondrous refuge. How, you may ask, do I remove thousands of people from public property? Easy! Do what Katie and I did, and go to the beach during a violent thunderstorm! If you time it like we did, you’ll arrive just as the storm moves on to Lake Michigan, and the lifeguards will say it’s now safe to go back in the water. So you’ll find a fully functioning beach, just without those pesky people to get in the way.

    Because we were able to actually walk around this empty beach, we were pleasantly taken with all of the amenities it has to offer. Beach chairs and umbrellas for rent, bike rentals, and even kayaks and jet skis are available. Without too many people screaming at them, the staff were super friendly and helpful.  There were many tables available at Castaways, the bar and grill on the upper level of that beached boat you may recall from the Real World: Chicago. While the prices were predictably expensive, Katie and I were impressed with the range of food offerings, and in the case of non-food offerings, were thrilled that they had some fake cheese! The nachos were enjoyable, but there were many ways to experience the fake cheese; on a pretzel, on a hot dog, or I’m sure they’d even give you a cup of fake cheese for you to do with what you want.

    Feeling bolstered by this surprisingly successful venture, we walked south to Oak Street Beach. Neither of us had been before, but we had heard that it was indeed preferable to North Ave., so we were stoked. We walked down the shore, taking in the beautiful skyline just steps away from us, and commented that this is the beach to bring your out-of-town friends to. Looking up at the tip of the John Hancock, the beginning of the Magnificent Mile, and the historic Drake Hotel, we really felt we were in a special place, until we made the horrible mistake of looking down. Trash. Everywhere. And the sand was incredibly rocky and uncomfortable. (Our research assistant who is also an expert on sand, Clare, flew in especially for this beach and she confirmed that this sand is characterized as “coarse,” and then she offered her own addition: “dirty.”) Part of the reason for the trash may be the angle of the beach, as a lot of the refuse from people docking their boats downtown washes up on shore here, but still…gross. And what the hell, boat people! Stop throwing all your crap into the lake! I know you all think you’re high and mighty what with your “boat” and your “spare time to go boating,” but I’d just like to remind you that the reason you enjoy boating on this lake and not the retention pond closer to home is because it’s clean and refreshing, and your empty boxes of Marlboro and cans of Red Bull do nothing to maintain that.

    

    Anyway, back to Oak Street Beach. They were all set up for a volleyball tournament last weekend, and between that and the thunderstorm, this beach was not its usual self. There was an awesome-looking food and bar area, but it was closed so we couldn’t sample the menu, though it does look like a nice place to stop if you’re walking along the lakefront, as long as you don’t mind some trash being blown at you. As we took pictures of a pathetic little dying palm tree that Katie decided is a metaphor for the entire Oak St Beach experience, I received a text from my husband instructing us to “seek shelter immediately” as another violent storm cell was coming through. We tried to make a run for it via the underground pedestrian paths, only to find they were flooded and impassable. Just a tip, if you’re ever on this beach and it’s storming, you’re basically stuck. Good luck and I hope you’re not wearing too much metal.

    We started running to Navy Pier, the quickest way we could think of to find shelter and an above-ground way back across Lake Shore Drive. On the way, we quickly surveyed Ohio Street Beach.  It’s tiny but cute—they also have a lovely dining area but the swirling winds and greenish skies had closed the restaurant, so we have no idea what foods they serve or how much they cost. I’m sure it’s fine. Another awesome feature of this beach is it has lane markers so you can go swimming (like real, Michael Phelps-style swimming) in the open water.  It will be perfect for you to practice for that Iron Man triathlon you’re thinking of spontaneously signing up for. And, there are even lockers for you to store your stuff in while you do your laps. But that’s all the time we had for Ohio St Beach before we kept running to avoid any Auntie Em situations with this storm.

    It was a day of surprises—surprised by our acceptance of North Ave, by our disappointment at Oak St, and by the fact that Ohio St even exists! (Not to mention, surprised by the multiple storm systems that moved throughout the city.) As much as we’d love to hate all of these beaches, their amazing views and locations do count for something, and we’ll probably be back sooner than we think.

    And for a slightly off-topic story (but if you can’t put this in a blog, where can you?)—we sought shelter at the Margaritaville on Navy Pier during the rain, and after the restaurant finished going through our wallets and taking all of the money we had and the rain stopped, we headed down to Grant Park to Taste of Chicago. The sun was back out, a faint rainbow bent above the lake, and we heard Michael Franti and Spearhead giving a free concert at the Taste. We found the concert, danced our bootays off, and as I thought about our day, which had us walking all the way down from North Avenue to Buckingham Fountain, through sunshine and rain, through music that got us grooving along with complete strangers, the notion was solidified for me: Chicago is an incredible place to live.

Locations: North Avenue Beach, 1600 N.; 

                   Oak Street Beach, 1000 N.; 

                   Ohio Street Beach, 400 N.

Parking: Torturous. Use public transportation.

Atmosphere:  North Ave, overcrowded party; 

                        Oak Street, tired but quiet; 

                        Ohio Street, busy but quiet

Food/Restrooms: Yes to both at all locations; bathrooms are “emergency only” quality

Overall Grade: North Ave, B- 

                         Oak Street, C+

                         Ohio Street, B

Loyola/Leone Beach and Hartigan Beach (also including: Pratt, Columbia, and North Shore Beaches)

    Let’s jump right in. Hartigan Beach is fine. The sand is fine, the water is fine, the amount of people and lifeguards is fine. But people don’t take day trips to the beach for “fine.” People don’t use up their valuable personal days for “fine.” People don’t decide that Chicago is the most amazing city on the face of the Earth (which is obviously true) because it has a beach that is “fine.”

    To use some teacher vocabulary here, Hartigan Beach is a lost opportunity. It has everything going for it—close to the red line; steps away from Loyola University and its fun students; a nice size and with great views of some natural landscaping; but for whatever reason, Hartigan Beach never tips to really being a destination beach. Everything is just a bit too quiet, almost like its visitors are there out of obligation instead of relaxation.

    To its credit, Hartigan Beach has some nice shaded and grassy areas, and a lovely pier that leads out to an abandoned lighthouse. The pier’s view of the city is great, but judging by the abandoned artifacts we found there, it’s a popular place for people to come and drink the cheapest vodka they can find. Unless you’re an 18 year-old whose parents just don’t understand you, I’d avoid that pier after dark.

    One fun diversion at the beach that Katie and I stumbled upon, almost literally, is slacklining! (You may remember that guy with the crazy hair doing stunts during Madonna’s Super Bowl half-time show.) We each gave it a try and made it about 3 steps before tumbling off. Many thanks to the guys who let us randomly interrupt them to take pictures and try the slackline they had so painstakingly set up.

    From here, Katie and I walked north to Loyola Beach. On our way, a police SUV stopped us and asked what we were taking notes and pictures of. I only bring this up to warn those of you who are interested in the abandoned-lighthouse-and-cheap-vodka scene: you are being watched.

    The park that leads to Loyola Beach is nice. There is a lot of public art and huge open spaces which were mostly used to let dogs run around (watch where you step). Note to people with dogs: if your dog jumps on a complete stranger, please do not give the whole “oh puppy’s just saying hiiiii!” routine. Your dog is poorly behaved, and that is your fault. Some of us are highly allergic to your little poop-machines, and even if we aren’t, nobody really enjoys being mounted by a quadruped. At least not in public.

    Anyway, Loyola Beach. It’s good. Unlike Hartigan, it has bathrooms, but we’d still classify them as “emergency only” facilities. It also has a food stand, run by Rogers Park icon, the Heartland Café. We were initially turned off from this place because they did not have any “fake cheese” (and yes, that is exactly how Katie tried to order it). I think most readers would agree is that the best part of any concession stand is the excuse—no, opportunity—to indulge in some cheese product, but Loyola’s concession stand does not offer that. However, in addition to beach food staples (hot dogs and potato chips), they also offer some healthier options, like hummus and veggies, or fruit and yogurt plates. And the guy who was working there, Dave, is super-duper nice. He even suggested a better title for our blog: Hot Beaches. Darn.

    On paper, Loyola Beach has everything needed for a top rating, but in reality, there is something amiss. It’s just not as inviting or laid-back as a beach should be. The people on the sand were sitting on those tall lawn chairs, and it looked more like they were guarding territory than enjoying themselves. People don’t seem to go home from Loyola Beach feeling relaxed and rejuvenated, which to us is the whole point of taking a day at the shore.

   So there you have it, a fine beach and a good beach. Loyola’s worth the trip, but only if you’re tired of your local favorite beach. Hartigan…not so much. Do you have any other insights into these beaches? Any other messages you want to send to dog owners in public spaces? Any recommendations for great places to get fake cheese?

And if you just didn’t feel like reading the whole review, here is your rundown:

 

Hartigan Beach, 6600 N.

Parking: Difficult street parking, but close to  Loyola red line stop

Atmosphere: Subdued but friendly

Food/Restrooms: None

Overall Grade: B-

Loyola/Leone Beach: 7032 N.

Parking: Some metered parking available

Atmosphere: Uptight but nice

Food/Restrooms: Yes to both

Overall Grade: A-

Chicago's Most Northern Beaches: Juneway Terrace, Rogers Ave, Howard Beach Park, Fargo Beach, Jarvis Beach

    When I was in kindergarten, there was a talent show at my elementary school. The older students sang, played musical instruments, and tap-danced, and even as a kindergartner, I remember thinking “Wow, these people really aren’t good at their talents.” But how could anybody criticize them? They were just kids, passionately performing some art-form that they were only recently introduced to. You knew that half of them were only in the show because their parents made them do it. So even though, judging by the unimpressed expressions of my fellow 5-year-olds, there was a consensus that this was the least-talented talent show ever, we gently applauded each performer and never (until now) acknowledged their incompetence.

    Criticizing the beaches of North Rogers Park feels a little bit like criticizing those talentless elementary students. There’s really not much to praise, but it seems unfairly harsh to compare these tiny neighborhood shores to the more developed beaches to the south. But we’re gonna do it anyway.

    The northernmost beach in Chicago is Juneway Terrace, right at the curve on Sheridan Road where Chicago becomes Evanston. And this beach was…nice? Like, there were pretty views of lakeside condos? Both Juneway Terrace Beach and Rogers Avenue Beach, which are only separated by about three condo buildings, are rocky beaches. Katie, ever the optimist, suggested that they’re “great if you’re looking to do a rock-painting project!” We spotted one woman laying out, but she had to have been extremely uncomfortable to be on a bed of hard, protruding stones. And as if the rocky terrain weren’t enough to dissuade from swimming, each beach features a decomposing pier. There’s nothing like wading in an area that features sharp, wooden daggers with the ability to stab you if you dare kick or are pulled in the wrong direction.

    On a positive note, each beach is amphitheater-style, which really immerses you into the setting. The effect magnifies the sound of gentle waves and makes you forget about the busy city traffic only a block away. There are tennis courts and flat grassy areas, great for doing yoga or letting your dog take a crap. (We saw both.)

    A bit further south is Howard Beach Park. It is almost exactly like Juneway Terrace and Rogers Beach, with the advantage of slightly sandier terrain and most excitingly, a playground! Mothers were able to supervise their little ones on the slides while also keeping an eye on their more capable swimmers wading in the shallow water. If you’re in the area with kids, this beach is your best bet, but it still lacks any of the perks to truly make it a destination beach.

    As Katie and I exited this beach, we were stopped by a man walking a labradoodle for looking slightly out of place. (Note: these beaches are the only ones where wearing bathing suits and holding towels will make you look out of place.) “If you’re looking for a better, sandier beach,” he lulled, “go to Jarvis Beach.” And then he snapped and his dog turned into fairy and they both flew away. Okay no not really, but I did appreciate his Gandalf-like guidance, and am thankful that this Labradoodle Man gave me something I could build to in this blog post. Jarvis Beach…Katie and I now had a mission to head to this exalted land, this beach of…sand and water…which up until 30 minutes ago we didn’t realize was actually something we’d have to search for.

    Anyway, we continued heading south and stumbled upon Fargo Beach. This beach reassures that there is absolutely nothing positive that can ever be associated with the word “Fargo.” In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if at night, people brought wood-chippers to this beach to pulverize dead bodies. The first thing we noticed was a massive dead fish floating belly-up along the shore. Charming. Shortly after, a group of (totally unsupervised) little girls started screaming as the dead fish washed ashore. Convinced that the fish was attacking them, they refused Katie’s and my explanations that the fish had clearly been dead for days. When we couldn’t provide a dramatic enough reason for the fish’s death, the girls decided the most logical conclusion is that it was attacked (but not eaten) by a shark. Just as they finished their scientific deduction, some dude came along to get a closer look at the white, eyeless, rotting corpse of a fish. “Could be dinner!” he said. With a lit joint in one hand, he used his other to TOUCH THE FISH AND FLIP IT OVER just to ensure what was plainly obvious, that this fish is definitely rotten and full of moldy holes. Then he looked at Katie and me. “Why didn’t you girls put your towels down and lay out?” he asked. Slightly freaked with the realization that this man had been watching and waiting for us to do so, Katie muttered something about how we’re just passing through. “Oh. Well. I’m Tyrone,” he responded. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Fargo Beach.

    After this blip, Katie and I were more ready than ever to see Jarvis Beach, the much-anticipated place that the magical Labradoodle Man told us about. We had been through our trials, and Katie and I were ready for our Emerald City, our Promised Land, our Wally World. We trudged through the sands, much like Reese Witherspoon in the Kalahari Desert in A Far Off Place, and then twenty feet later we found it. Jarvis Beach. Our eyes scanned the shore, from the breakers to the pier, and behold, we saw…a modestly sized beach with sand and an apathetic lifeguard. I mean I guess this beach is fine, and there were definitely more people here than at any of the others, but it really is just a plot of sand surrounded by some average-looking condo buildings.

    Bottom line, if you’re in the area, your best bet is Jarvis Beach (or if you have multiple little kids in tow, Howard Beach). If you’re not in the area, don’t bother making the trip.

That’s it for now. Thoughts? Questions? Have any of you made the trip to Rogers Park beaches and you have a story to share? How much do you love A Far Off Place? Till next time, be kind and wear sunscreen!

Location: 7432-7800 N.

Parking: Limited street parking

Atmosphere: Dull, or quiet (depending on perspective)

Food/Restrooms:  None

Overall Grade: 

                    Juneway Terrace & Rogers Ave: C; Howard Beach Park: C+; Fargo Beach: D; Jarvis: B-