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I left Stillwater for RAGBRAI early on Friday morning
the 21st of July. I planned to stop off in Dubuque to see Gary my son-in-law,
Kate my daughter and my grandson Jonathan on the way down to Burlington
where RAGBRAI was going to end. Katie had promised to make lemon meringue
pudding for us. I enjoyed playing with Jonathan and eating with the three
of them. Burlington is 158 miles south of Dubuque so after having our
meal I left. I planned to take a shuttle offered by Bicycle Charters from
Burlington across to Council Bluffs, our starting point. I planned to
meet Don Klassen and Ron Mielke, a boyhood friend of Don's there. We are
all 58 years old, Ron being the oldest by a month. Ron is a retired schoolteacher
from Chaska, Don lives in Lake Elmo and works at 3M, and I live in Stillwater
and also work at 3M. We had decided to do RAGBRAI to celebrate the 9th
anniversary of our 1991 bike trip in Germany. We also wanted to get enthused
about doing more bike rides in the future. On this tour Ron rode a cross
bike, Don rode a folding mountain bike with road tires, and I rode a mountain
bike with road tires and fenders. We were all first time RAGBRAIERS.
When I registered at Notre Dame high school in Burlington
Janet Procter, the head of Bicycle Charters, really pulled my leg, she
indicated that we were going to take the school buses parked behind the
school and would be putting our luggage under the seats. She said the
buses were 45 passengers and all the seats were occupied except for two
or three. I dropped my bike off by two trucks parked behind the school.
The trucks would be carrying our bikes across Iowa. I was directed to
park my car on the far side of the field and put my tent up on the athletic
field. When setting up my tent I noticed a guy next to me struggling to
set his up. I went over to help. He turned out to be a retired math teacher
from a small town near Cleveland, Ohio. We got to talking about the ride
over to Council Bluffs and I told him that we were going to be shuttled
over in school buses and pointed to the buses parked behind the school.
This was his second RAGBRAI and he told me the previous year Bicycle Charters
had provided air-conditioned motor coaches. I guess Janet Procter could
easily spot a RAGBRAI "First Timer" because the next morning
we all boarded motor coaches complete with air conditioning, movies, and
a luggage compartment under the side of the bus. I was rather tired that
first morning. They turned on the field lights just after sundown and
didn't turn them off until after midnight. I guess they wanted to provide
light for late arrivers. I never thought that I would have to try and
sleep while being flooded with bright lights.
We traveled across Iowa in luxury; they played "Breaking
Away"an appropriate movie for people who would shortly be starting
out on their own
bicycle adventure. I planned to meet Don and Ron in the NW corner of the
main campground after arriving in Council Bluffs. When we got to Council
Bluffs, we dropped off the people who had signed up to have their luggage
shuttled across the state by Bicycle Charter for the week at a local high
school and then headed over to the main campground. They dropped us off
at about 2:30 on the south side of the camp. I got off the bus, grabbed
my gear, and headed for the NW corner. Our bikes were coming by separate
truck and we were to pick them up at 4:30 at the intersection of 24th
street and highways 295/52. I was approaching the NW corner and was happy
when Ron and Don, who had been at the main camp for about an hour and
one half, hailed me. They had taken a charter from Mason City, Iowa and
had teamed up with the North Iowa bike club some of whose members were
making a Trans America trip and were riding RAGBRAI as part of it. It
turned out that they were the group in which one of their members, a 71-year-old
man, had had a heart attack and had died only four miles outside of Council
Bluffs. Most of the members making the Trans America trip were planning
to attend his funeral on Monday.
After setting up my tent and joining the O2O (Ocean to
Ocean) riders by paying $35 dollars to have my luggage shuttled across
the state (a bargain), I set out to retrieve my bike. The truck was an
hour late but all our bikes arrived in good shape. One guy, a veteran
RAGBRAIER, counseled me that when riding RAGBRAI patience was to be embraced.
After getting back to camp the three of us set off to eat. I'll mention
some of the things that we saw that first night. We were camped on a large
field and small one, two, and three man tents were scattered all over
it like large multicolored mushrooms. When walking over to eat the three
of us were people watching and we saw some interesting sights. There were
people with dyed green, blue, and bright red hair. There were people with
corn, watermelons, fish,
stuffed animals, bones, and wineglasses, all stuck to their helmets. One
guy had a complete flamingo on his helmet and another crazy guy had a
roll of toilet paper complete with dispenser on his. As far as eating
there were hamburger stands offering beef as well as buffalo burgers,
popcorn, spaghetti, ice cream, and sloppy joe stands. There was a postal
stand handing out free passports that you could carry along with you and
have stamped in each town that we were going to be passing through. There
was a beer garden and a couple of bands playing. Going over to the eating
area we saw almost every kind of pedal bike there is. We saw three wheelers,
tandems both upright and recumbent, an old time bike with a huge front
wheel and small second one, bikes with windshields, folding bikes that
could be fitted into a regular suitcase, a bike with a hand crank, and
bikes with small trailer bikes that could be ridden by a child. My initial
impression of RAGBRAI was that it was going to be a moving festival that
would flow like a wave across the state of Iowa. The Iowans try to provide
a good time and appeared to really enjoy hosting this annual event. After
having spaghetti we returned to our tents and crawled in about 9:00. The
RAGBRAI people had recommended ear plugs and after the first night I can
see why. You could hear the bands playing in the background and there
was a hot air balloonist adjacent to our camping spot who fired his burner
off about every five minutes.
It is now the third night and we are in Ankeny, Iowa just
north of Des Moines. To regress back to the first morning, we got up at
5:30 and could hear rain drumming on the tent fly. Getting up early was
to be the daily routine since we had to have our luggage on the truck
by 6: 45. That was the rule and if we didn't meet the time schedule our
luggage would be left. The rain quit just as we were ready to pack up
the tents. We started out the first morning and rode for about ten miles
before eating breakfast. The roads we traveled that first day were essentially
flat, had new pavement, with only a few moderate hills. We also had the
wind at our backs. We ate breakfast at Mr. Pancake. There are two pancake
concessions that travel with RAGBRAI, Mr. Pancake and Chris's. They have
an automatic dispenser that lays down six rows of cakes putting four pancakes
on the grill at one time. Some people wait behind the counter (mostly
hot shot young guys) who catch their cakes on their plates as they are
flipped to them from the guys operating the grills. Everyone cheers as
each pancake is caught. They had long tables set up with no chairs. Everyone
proceeds to wolf down his or her cakes, juice, coffee, and sausages. We
had a very easy ride that first day. One memorable event was to see a
biker go down. The rider was apparently seriously injured because the
ambulance had been called and they were gingerly loading him onto a stretcher.
The BRAI is quite an event, at almost every intersection
there were farm families who had water, bananas, Gatorade, cookies, and
sometimes pie for sale. Another big item, of course, was corn usually
sold for a buck an ear. A lot of the farm kids were small and cute and
offered a lot of country farm appeal.
That first day we ate lunch in Shelby. On the outskirts
of town there was a tavern owner who was giving out free beer. He had
a canopy set up which extended out from the end of his building and underneath
had tables and chairs set up. There was also a three-piece band that was
playing country swing. We sat under the canopy soaking up the suds and
talking with a dentist and his wife. The dentist gave each one of us a
small traveling toothbrush. After finishing our beer we headed into town.
Shelby had built an arch over the road with multicolored bikes and had
decorated each street light with a bike. When traveling through the small
towns the town's people try to offer an on going party, which shifts from
town to town as the bikers pass through.
When we arrived in Neola there was a small park where
an old man was playing a small tuba and shaking a tambourine for rhythm.
Don said that the old man was pretty good. On a side street there was
an Elvis impersonator who was dressed in a white sequined suit and was
strutting his stuff and singing on a temporary stage set up on the end
of a blocked off street. There were also three ultra light airplanes circling
overhead. All in all it was a very festive mood.
We got a beer and drank it in the small park sitting on
a picnic table. It was interesting when we came into each town. People
were milling around gawking, eating, drinking, and people watching. It
was impossible to ride through the towns because of the mob of people
in the road, so it was necessary to walk our bikes through the throng.
After about 45 minutes we left Neola heading for Harlan our first overnight
stop. The first night we were lucky since the North Iowa club was camped
in front of the high school. The main camp was located in the fair grounds
and there were long lines for the showers, food, or porta potties. We
had access to free showers in the high school. The only complaint was
that the showers were cold. However, after showering in the first shower
room, we learned that the second room had warm water.
After a restful nights sleep we got up at 5:30, packed
up, and headed out again at 6:30. We were anticipating a hard 72-mile
day. Our destination was Greenfield and we would be traveling through
the rolling hill country of southwest Iowa. Most people wrongly assume
that Iowa is mostly a flat state. We had picked up a circular the night
before in Harlan describing a breakfast buffet in Elkhorn. The three of
us agreed that we would have breakfast there. About ten miles outside
of Harlan I had to take a pee so stopped along the road and headed for
the ever-present cornfield. Don yelled at me that Ron and he would go
ahead and that I could catch up with them. That was the last time that
I saw Ron and Don until the campground in Greenfield. After getting out
of the corn I headed out. It is very easy to miss someone in the mass
of bikers. Don was wearing a yellow shirt for identification, however,
so were about 20 % of the other men. I got to Elkhorn and waited for them
for about 45 minutes before going over to the buffet and eating breakfast.
I hoped that I would see them at the buffet but had no such luck.
I started talking with three young guys in the line for
food (a very long line that extended across a very wide parking lot) and
told them I was looking for a couple of other guys. They asked me to describe
Don and Ron. I said that Don was wearing a yellow shirt and had a black
helmet and Ron was wearing a white shirt and had a white helmet. They
jokingly told me that if they spotted them they would send them over.
I started out of town after having a large portion of
scrambled eggs and five sausage links. Iowans are big on the heavy foods
with emphasis on pork. It is interesting to see that they recommend using
margarine rather than butter since margarine is made from corn oil, there
are hardly any dairy farms left in the state. The day was getting hotter
and the hills were becoming steeper. The wind was also coming up and blowing
from the south, the direction we were traveling.
I should describe the traffic flow of the bikers, particularly
in the hilly sections. The flow pattern is somewhat akin to the way traffic
flows on a freeway. On the down hills the bikers would spread out, on
the up hills as one proceeded up the hill the bikers bunched up and spread
out over the two lanes of the road. It was also somewhat akin to a flowing
river where the water flows slowest closest to the banks and speeds up
as it gets toward the middle. The bikers on the extreme right moved the
slowest and the bikers became faster as you proceeded to the left. Also
there is the clicking of gears and people passing and calling out on your
left. Everyone is breathing hard and is red in the face. The young Turks
on the multicolored bikes dressed in team jerseys travel exclusively in
the left lane and whiz by the other bikers. On some hills one would suddenly
hear "Car up" and this would be repeated down the line of bikers.
This meant that a car was approaching from up in front and it was necessary
for everyone to shift back onto the right lane of the road. Occasionally
one hears "Car back" or "Biker up" which meant that
a car was approaching from the rear or a bike or bikers were coming from
the opposite direction. On the top of every hill there are people selling
water, Gatorade, or ice-cold lemonade. Also one can hear "Bike on"
or "Bike off" as people move in or out of the wavering line
of bikers.
The country we were traveling through was picturesque
with vivid blue and white wild flowers in the road ditches. Also, there
was an occasional CRP field, which would be covered with wild flowers.
I ate lunch in the town of Anita at a church that was
serving baked potatoes with all the trimmings, homemade pie, and iced
tea for $4.00. In rural Iowa the portions tend to be very generous. I
waited for Don and Ron on a bank in front of the church under the shade
of a big maple tree. I waited and rested for about an hour but didn't
see the boys. I left Anita and headed out. South of Anita the hills were
very steep, long, and spaced close together. One biker counted a total
of 95 hills for the day with a vertical climb of 4900 feet. Some said
that it was the most hills for a RAGBRAI ride. When we got close to Greenfield
I got my second wind and motored on in at a good clip. I arrived about
4:00 and set up the tent and headed for the showers. The shower cost $3.00
and was cold with a long wait. While waiting in line I couldn't quit sweating,
the sweat kept dripping off me the entire time I stood in line. All day
long I had poured down water and Gatorade but never had to pee once after
leaving Elkhorn. While waiting in line I started a conversation with a
guy who was a member of the team with loons on their helmets (naturally
this team was from Minnesota). When turning into the fair grounds he had
his loon shot off his head by a kid wielding a water gun. He thought it
was funny and actually was amazed at the accuracy of the shot.
Don and Ron arrived about 6:30 and I waited until they
showered to eat. I had a pork chop on a stick. It came from the official
pork chop concession; they even had a pork queen helping serve the pork
chops as they came off the grill. It was about an inch thick, big as my
hand, and was succulent and juicy. Because of the wait in the pork chop
line Ron and Don decided to eat a sheep sandwich with a pasta salad. This
concession was right next to the pork place but there was no line. While
sitting and eating our meal we talked with two guys who were gay, or who
the three of us thought were gay. There was a band with much beer drinking
and partying going on in town. The three of us went back to camp and crawled
in the sack. We all slept soundly and I can't remember dreaming.
The next morning we again arose to a rain shower, which
fortunately quit just, as we were getting out of our tents. It only rained
long enough to get all our gear wet.
This day proved to be sweet. The wind was on our backs,
it was cool in the morning, and we had mostly smooth pavement to ride
on. The first long down hill we came to curved around gradually coming
out into a river valley. The pavement was brand new and I got up to 36.1
mph. Ron said that he heard one guy say he had gotten up to over 40 mph.
The tandem riders probably approached 45 mph or higher, they really roll
down the hills and are the semis of the cycling world. We ate breakfast
in a McDonalds in Dexter. I went across the street to put in my contacts
at a Texaco filling station and an attendant was saying that Bonnie and
Clyde had robbed the bank in 1934. The bank was in the movie but he was
disappointed that Dexter didn't receive any recognition. He said that
the infamous couple netted $1500 and were killed a month latter in Louisiana
in a federal ambush.
The weather this day was warm and sunny and we motored
along easily. The sun really brings out the skin in the young ladies.
Many wore shorts that came down low on their hips and had spaghetti straps
on their sport? bras. Don caught a draft with a gal on a green Bianchi
and rode behind her for a short period. He pointed her out to me. She
was a serious biker and was a very consistent rider. Her attire was biking
jersey, biking shorts, and dark sunglasses. I drafted behind her for a
few miles. She never acknowledged my presence and when I peeled off she
never even looked back. This day was our longest ride, a total of 84 miles.
We were staying at the house of Jerry Mossey, one of the riders on the
O2O tour. When we got to Ankeny we rode to his house and set up our tents
on his lawn and his neighbor's lawn across the street. Jerry allowed everyone
to take a shower in his house so it was a hot shower, clean sinks, and
privacy. A nice break from the usual long lines waiting for a cold shower.
The next morning we heard thunder and saw lightning in
the west when we awoke shortly after 5:00. We got up at 5:20 and hoped
that we could get our tents down and packed away before the rain struck.
All three of us managed to pack up in record time just beating the rain,
which started pelting down. We all gathered in Jerry's garage and had
breakfast in the house.
The sky cleared in the west after about twenty minutes
of waiting and Don and I started out. Because Ron had gotten very tired
he decided to sag this day. For most of the morning it either rained or
threatened to rain so everyone was constantly putting on or taking off
their rain gear. East of Bondurant it really started raining and we even
had a couple of minutes of hail. Someone reported hearing on his radio
(many bikers carried radios on their bikes) that there were tornadoes
fairly close to where we were. After waiting in a farmer's yard for the
rain to stop we again headed out after it quit. This was the last of the
day's rain showers but the day became partly cloudy and muggy. Some of
the roads we rode on this day were in poor shape. Many sections of a concrete
road had large holes and a wide crack between the two lanes. Most people
were riding road bikes with skinny tires. I heard later that one biker
had hit a hole on the way down one of the hills and landed on his head
after somersaulting over his handlebars.
Don and I ate lunch in Reasoner. The food being offered
by the concessions sounded good so we headed for a stand that offered
either a smoked turkey leg or smoked chicken legs. Don opted for the turkey
and I had the chicken. I chose the chicken because it was lower priced
and a kid working in the stand told me that they were delicious. I ordered
three chicken legs on the kid's recommendation. Don ate only two bites
out of his turkey leg and promptly said he didn't know why he had ordered
it. He threw most of it away. If it tasted anything like the chicken it
was bad. The chicken was very greasy and only had a very faint smoky flavor.
After sitting around awhile and eating pie (me) and watermelon (Don) we
headed out. We had parked our bikes along a residential street and I had
leaned my bike up against the largest soft maple tree I have ever seen.
The diameter of the trunk was at least eight feet and when you looked
up into the crown there were multiple branches as large as a lot of individual
trees.
There was a long climb out of the town and I regretted
eating all that greasy chicken. We were headed for Pella that was due
south of Reasoner. The wind really started blowing from the south and
we had many long gradual climbs. Some people thought that this day was
worst than day 2 from the standpoint of difficult biking. The scenery
from the top of the hills was spectacular and many people were stopping
and taking pictures.
I waited for Don at the top of one of the long hills.
While I was waiting, a group of bikers in a pace line came up to the curve
on the top of the hill. As they approached the crest the last rider in
the line suddenly went down. He actually had a graceful fall; he sort
of somersaulted over the handlebars and landed on his feet. However, the
impact of the fall forced him to his knees. One of the lead riders in
the pace line looked back and yelled out " Tony is down". Tony
very quickly got up, jumped on his bike, and I heard him say "Not
even any road rash". He quickly disappeared around the corner.
Somehow I missed spotting Don and rode into Pella without
seeing him. We had earlier agreed that if someone was ahead that he would
wait for the other rider(s) at the entrance to the next town. After waiting
for an hour and not seeing Don I went on ahead. Between Pella and Knoxville
the road became flat so I really motored. We crossed over a dam on the
Des Moines River just outside of Knoxville. It was a very pretty sight
when one looked to the right. The banks had white sand and from a distance
one could imagine that they were white cliffs. From what I've seen of
the Hudson in New York one could have been looking up the Hudson River.
When I arrived in camp Ron had both tents set up which was great. Don
arrived only a few minutes after I did, we had missed seeing each other
in Pella even though we had been there at the same time. Don and I decided
to take a shower before eating. We weren't sure where the showers were
but the camp hosts were running shuttles through the campground to the
showers. Don said let's jump on a shuttle so we ran to catch one, which
had just stopped to take on some passengers. We got on the shuttle and
sat down anticipating that we were going to be taken into town for a warm
shower. After traveling for about 15 minutes and picking up a lot of people
who were forced to stand, the bus driver stopped and told everyone to
get out. I looked up and to my surprise we were at the entrance to the
camp! We were only about 200 hundred yards from where we had started.
We also had to pay 50 cents apiece for the ride. The showers turned out
to be in the high school that was across the street from our campground.
Don and I got out and started walking over to the school. The showers
were reasonably good, there were no lines, the water was warm, and it
only cost $2.00.
The next morning it was foggy but it wasn't raining. Some
people were exclaiming how beautiful and mystical the landscape appeared
with tendrils of fog coming up out of the surrounding fields. Don said
that you could look directly at the sun because it looked like the moon
through the mist. This day's ride was moderately hard. We had some hills
and traveled down one section of very rough concrete road with many potholes.
We ate lunch in the town of Albia that apparently is the
county seat of Monroe County. There was a large courthouse surrounded
on all sides by a wide expanse of lawn. I told Don and Ron that I wanted
to write in this journal and would meet them in an hour. I went over to
the street vendor area and ordered pasta from a stand. A number of people
had told me that this pasta was excellent. Like Chris's and Mr. Pancake
the pasta concession followed RAGBRAI everyday. When I got back to where
I had left my bike parked under a tree on the court house lawn I saw a
striking looking woman eating fruit. The fruit looked fresh and delicious
and I asked her where she had purchased it. She told me on the other side
of the courthouse. We started a conversation and she proved to be a very
interesting person so instead of writing in this journal I had a lengthy
conversation with her. She introduced herself and told me her name was
Sonja. We shook hands and I told her my name was Louie. She lived in Des
Moines and was a one-day RAGBRAI tripper. She was in her late thirties
and already had had a successful career as an architectural designer and
had just returned from Spain where she had studied the foods of the northern
coastal areas. She was a graduate of the CIA (Culinary Institute of America)
and was undecided as to what career she wanted to pursue next. Options
she was considering were to be a chef in a restaurant, open her own restaurant,
or be a food importer from Spain with an emphasis on sea food. Her parents
were from Madrid, but they had moved to America before Sonja was born
and she had grown up in Chicago. Ron and Don returned from their lunch
and short naps and she introduced herself to them. Sonja seemed like a
strange name for a Hispanic woman. She shook hands with each of us when
she left and wished us a safe trip.
In the afternoon we went through Blakesburg. There was
a platform set up in the middle of town with a band and attractive young
girls out front greeting bikers as they came through. Of course Don went
up to a blond and since she appeared to be very friendly and was cute
Don asked her if she would give him a hug. I looked back just in time
to see Don being embraced. When he came up to Ron and I he was grinning
from ear to ear and proceeded to tell us all about his hug.
Later that afternoon we arrived in Ottumwa where we would
be camping for the night. There were two large tents set up for showering.
A white and pink striped one for the ladies and a blue and white striped
one for the men. There were no shower lines because of the large number
of showerheads and the water was warm. We took a shuttle to the First
Lutheran Church, which was offering a potato bar. We had a potato, iced
tea or coffee, and homemade pie. They had reduced their price from $5.00
to $4.00 since they were not getting many takers. Because of the lack
of patrons they offered a second piece of pie for $1.00. Most of the pie
was cut in large pieces that were quite thick with ample filling. After
the meal Ron and I were looking at a small chapel that was attached to
the fellowship building where we had eaten. The fellowship building was
attached to the main church by a walkway. A woman saw Ron and I looking
at the chapel and asked us if we wanted to see the main sanctuary. She
took the three of us on a tour. The church proved to be beautiful. It
was over 100 years old and was about as wide as it was deep. There were
beautiful large stain glass windows on the back and sides of the church
that depicted various biblical scenes. A balcony ran the entire length
of the back of the church and there were doors with leaded glass windows
leading out to the narthex. There was an old pipe organ on the right hand
side of the altar. On the back of the altar there was a large wooden carving
of the Last Supper modeled after Michelangelo's painting. The church had
a very warm feeling.
After we left the church we took the shuttle down to the
beer garden. Ron told me that Ottumwa was MASH'S Radar O'Reilly's hometown.
It was rumored that Tom Arnold was going to make an appearance but we
didn't stay long enough to find out if he did. Ron and Don had a couple
of lemonade/beer blends and I drank a couple of Buds. That night was very
hot and muggy. We lay on top of our sleeping bags and sweated. The next
morning we arose to a partly cloudy sky. We had only a light dew so the
tents weren't too wet. The ground was like cement and when setting up
the tents we could only drive the tent stakes in a little way. Apparently,
the Ottumwa area hadn't received that much rain.
We ate breakfast at the high school that was having an
all you could eat breakfast buffet. After eating we headed out of town.
Unfortunately, eating before leaving town was a bad choice since we had
to climb two long, steep hills. It brought back bad memories of the climb
out of Reasoner. Other than the beginning this day was short and easy.
It was only 56 miles from Ottumwa to Washington. We did, however, encounter
three stretches of gravel, the worst being just out side of Richland.
We ate lunch in Richland that according to the MC for the music groups
had previously been known as frog town. Apparently the town had been initially
settled on a site of a pond full of frogs. In Richland they had excellent
food. While waiting for Don and Ron to catch up I dined on a pork tenderloin
sandwich, freshly made lemonade, capped off with an ice cream drumstick.
When Ron and Don arrived they didn't eat much, but did fill up their water
bottles.
In the afternoon we were stopped on a crest of a hill
because of a biking accident. During the wait to clear the road I started
talking with a knowledgeable Iowa woman. I asked her what the blue and
white flowers were called that we were seeing in all the road ditches.
She said the blue flowers were called Blue Chicory and the white flowers
were called Queen Anne Lace. I had previously asked numerous people the
names of the flowers but none had been able to tell me. One woman had
known that the white ones were Queen Anne Lace but didn't know the name
for the blue flowers. The two flowers form a very pleasing color combination.
After clearing the accident, which was severe enough to call the ambulance,
they let us go on our way.
Later in the afternoon we stopped on a farmer's front
lawn. Many times we would pass by rural homes and the people would be
sitting out watching and waving at the riders as they passed through.
On the lawn sitting in the shade of a large tree there was an old guy
with three younger men. I arrived first and asked the old man what kind
of tree he was sitting under. It looked similar to an American elm but
it had smaller and more slender leaves. The old man looked up and with
a twinkle in his eye told me that the tree was a Piss elm. Later Ron told
me that they had Piss elms all over southwestern Minn. and that the wood
was impossible to split. Just when the old man told me the name of the
tree Don arrived. He told the old man to watch out for me since I liked
to argue. In fact, just that morning Don and I had an argument over how
tall the corn plants were where he and I had taken a leak.
I said that they were at least 10 feet tall but Don insisted that they
were only 8 feet. He had played basketball all his life and knew what
10 feet was. Ron agreed with me because the corn was over 10 feet tall.
Anyway, Don started arguing about politics and in a loud voice announced
that he was a Republican and supported George W. Two of the young guys
were sons of the old man and the other was his son-in-law. When Don announced
that he was a Republican one of the sons said good since he was one too
and walked over and got Don a beer. The old man and the other two young
men were Democrats. A spirited argument commenced between the old man
and Don with the young guys joining in by laughing and nodding as the
argument progressed.
We arrived early in Washington getting there at about
3:30. We found out our group was camped near a Mennonite church. Don and
Ron went off to shower and I wrote in this journal. I sat writing behind
the church on a picnic table in the shade of some trees. There were two
other people there who also were apparently writing in their journals.
A woman came up and said that she was envious since she had always intended
to keep a journal but hadn't. It was very pleasant sitting and writing
since a cool front had gone through during the day.
After I showered we ate supper in the church and afterwards
took a shuttle downtown. We strolled around looking at the bike vendors
and Don bought a pair of gloves to replace the pair he had lost. We watched
a juggler for awhile who was very good. At one point he juggled a bowling
ball, a green grape, and a ball the size of a tennis ball. Of course when
he finished juggling these three he caught the grape in his mouth and
ate it.
We retired even earlier than usual (before 8:30) because
Don and Ron had to be in Burlington by 1:00 to catch their shuttle back
to Mason City. We got up at 4:30 and intended to bust butt as Don said.
It was still rather dark but there were quite a few riders already on
the road. Most riders had a blinking red taillight, which appeared like
a long line of flickering red fire flies ahead of us. This day was the
best day as far as biking. The land became quite flat as we approached
the river, the road was new and very smooth, and we had the wind at our
backs. I couldn't resist speeding along at times, waiting for Don and
Ron to catch up. In one section I averaged well over 20 mph. We stopped
in Mediapolis to eat a quick lunch. This proved to be a good choice since
they had the best lemonade and pork tenderloin sandwiches of the whole
trip. Little old ladies were individually preparing the glasses of lemonade
using half a lemon per glass. We arrived in Burlington in plenty of time
arriving shortly after noon. When we arrived in Burlington we had to climb
the steepest hill of the trip. When asked what the name of the hill was
a Burlingtonite answered that it was called the widow maker. I rode over
to the YMCA with Don and Ron, got my bag, put it in the office of the
YMCA, and had a last picture of the three of us taken with Ron's camera.
Don exclaimed, " Well another adventure completed, Louie". I
jumped on my bike and rode down to the river to dip my front wheel. Kate
and Gary had driven down from Dubuque to watch me come in. They spotted
me right away. I went down to the river, dipped my wheel, and concluded
my first RAGBRAI.
I should mention a couple of additional things. One of
these is the man in the leather loincloth. This is the only thing he wore
during the entire week except for biking shoes. He would get jeered or
cheered everywhere he went. He wasn't a young guy and I would judge him
to be about 40 with the beginnings of a potbelly. The other thing is the
only injury suffered by the three of us. Don got a sore butt so I talked
him into buying a Specialized saddle to replace his old seat. However,
even with the new seat, I noticed that he was standing up a lot that last
day and it wasn't to pump up any hills. All and all as anyone knows who
does RAGBRAI that it is a special, rewarding, exciting adventure.
What does RAGBRAI mean to me stated in a few words?
These are pedaling, panting, hilly, car up, car back,
bike on, bike off, on your left, eating, drinking, corn on the cob, pork,
lemonade, lite beer, Gatorade, homemade pies and ice cream, greeting,
meeting, talking, camping, camaraderie, music, festive, small towns, high fives,
heartland, rural, Iowa, America, a special event.
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