My brother and I don’t need much of a reason to travel together. We just need a good enough one.
Brett Favre was retiring. Or so we thought. The Packers were playing the Vikings on Monday Night Football at Lambeau Field, and it felt like the kind of game you’d regret not seeing in person. So we did what made complete sense at the time. I flew from San Francisco, he flew from San Diego, and we met in the middle. Chicago first. Green Bay second. Two brothers in their twenties, first time in either city, no real plan beyond the game.
The City Getting Ready
Chicago in November is cold in a way that San Diego and San Francisco don’t prepare you for. Not unpleasant cold. The kind of cold that has texture to it. The kind that makes a warm bar feel earned, that turns a coffee into something you actually need rather than just want.
We’d arrived just before the Christmas decorations started going up. You could feel the city getting ready for something. Lights appearing in windows, market stalls being assembled in the squares, that particular anticipatory hum that comes before a city fully commits to the season. We caught it in that in-between moment, which turned out to be exactly right.
Two Kids, No Plan
Neither of us had been to Chicago before. We just walked. The Loop, the Riverwalk, Millennium Park. The Bean was already a mirror that day, catching the grey sky and our cold faces back at us. The Christkindlmarket was setting up in Daley Plaza. Not the full thing yet, just the beginning of it.
My brother and I don’t always talk a lot. That’s not a criticism of either of us. It’s just how it is. But sport opens something up. The whole trip, from Chicago to Green Bay and back, we talked. About the game, about Favre, about growing up watching football together. About nothing important and everything that was.
Lambeau
Lambeau in November is its own thing entirely. The cold there is serious. Metal bench, frozen tundra, the whole reputation earned. We were squeezed in between strangers who became immediately friendly because that’s what happens when you’re all suffering together in the same weather, cheering for the same team.
My brother was a Vikings fan. He did not mention this whilst in Green Bay. He cheered for the Packers with the conviction of a man who had always cheered for the Packers and would take that information with him to his grave if necessary.
Favre played. The Packers lost. He came back and played two more seasons, as it turned out. We were not catching the end of a dynasty. My brother, to his credit, said nothing.
And then we flew home to different cities. Still cheering for different teams but having connected through this trip in ways we’d not been able to do previously.
A Few Notes on Chicago in November
- The cold: Dress properly, and it becomes a feature, not a problem. Layers, gloves with finger access for the camera, lens hood for the snow glare. Protect the camera, if necessary.
- The Christkindlmarket: Daley Plaza, late November through Christmas Eve. Go at dusk when the lights are up and your ISO can do some work.
- The Bean: Early morning for reflections, blue hour for the glow. Touristy for good reason.
- The Riverwalk: Long exposure territory. Bridges, water, the skyline doing its thing.
- Getting to Lambeau: Green Bay is about three hours north of Chicago. Rent a car, go early, dress for actual winter.
