Sun of the Beach: 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.)