|
Well, RAGBRAI XXI is history and I've dried out most of the way.
Based on last year's feedback, I am posting portions of my journal
from our venture for you to "read & ride" at your leisure. If you
missed the ride this year, hope this makes up for it.
Some background - Tim is my son who turned 16 on the trip. Karen is
my wife and I'm not saying how old she is. Joe & Kim are my brother
& sister-in-law; Joe's been thinking of doing the ride for years.
Everyone else that's mentioned here rode on our Team - Team Skidmark.
Enjoy...
dennis
This year's Ride can best be summed up by quoting one of the T-shirts
we saw - "RAGBRAI XXI - Flood, Sweat and Gears". The Register's
Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa is history and Tim and I are
slowly re-learning how to sit without great amounts of pain. Neither
one of us has been on our bikes much since we returned last Tuesday.
After you spend a week and 560 miles that close to a piece of
equipment you tend to seek temporary separation once it's over. I
think if we had put on any more miles, the separation would have
required minor surgery.
As expected, we had a great time, and for those of you who couldn't
make it I "took notes" during the week. While I will attempt to
recall as much from my notes (and sore parts) as I can, Tim and I
both decided that there are no words, no pictures, no T-shirts, no
way to describe what we went through unless you go through it in
person. One of the reasons I was glad to see Tim accompany me this
year was so that I could have living proof, blood kin no less, that
RAGBRAI is really the way that I saw it. So if you ever doubt my
sanity, Tim will now vouch, under no duress whatsoever, that RAGBRAI
is the experience of a Lifetime!
With all of the flooding this year in the Midwest, we came very close
to calling the trip off. About the first week in July I started
feeling guilty hearing and reading about the worst disaster in Iowa
and the midwest in over 100 years. We'd already sent in our
registration fee and made vacation plans but with two weeks left to
go before the ride, I called the Des Moines Register expecting to get
a list of agencies where we could instead volunteer our time and
backbone. I got the same story from the Red Cross and Chambers of
Commerce in Des Moines, Sioux City and Dubuque - they had plenty of
volunteers pitching in to help; what they needed was money. Feeling
a little like "clean up your plate because there's starving kids in
India" (if we couldn't help in Iowa, maybe we could volunteer
elsewhere in the country or the world), we decided to continue with
our plans. Apparently, we weren't the only riders who were somewhat
reluctant to have a good time. The Des Moines Register sent out a
letter to all riders about 5 days before the beginning of RAGBRAI
that "many riders had expressed concern bordering on guilt" but that
this was a time to share with and meet the people of Iowa. As it
turned out, I believe the unofficial count of 15,000 riders was
higher this year than it was during last year's 20th anniversary
ride. Rumor had it that RAGBRAI unloaded up to $1 million in each of
the overnight towns we stayed in. Whenever you get 15,000 riders and
another 5,000 support people coming through these towns, some as
small as 2,000 population, there's bound to be a boost in the
economy.
Friday, July 23rd
Tim and I left Colorado Springs the morning of July 23rd. Karen had
decided to stay home for this ride and enjoy the piece and quiet.
Even though she wasn't with us, she was still the subject of plenty
of conversations about the job she did supporting the team last year.
This year's support team did a good job in spite of their tough act
to follow.
Since Karen was staying home, Tim and I were coerced into driving her
red Honda Prelude with cruise control, air conditioning, and a better
stereo than what we have in our home. It didn't take too much to
convince us - driving that car to/from Iowa made a big difference in
the vacation. As a matter of fact, after tooling through some of the
back highways of Kansas and Nebraska, I began to wonder why we were
giving up this comfortable ride for a week long adventure with a
bicycle seat!
Tim and I hadn't taken a vacation by ourselves for several years so
this ride was long overdue. We had good conversations along the road
- mainly about sports (I listened and nodded while he talked), school
(he slept while I talked), different family members, the flooding,
riding, driving, etc. He has his learners permit so at one point in
the middle of Nebraska, I broke down and gave him the wheel for about
an hour. There's something about seeing him drive the sporty red
Prelude that just wasn't quite right. I started out with a 1968
Chevy Belair four door turquoise. He should have to be as humble!
He did good though - the "Lude" is a great way to travel.
The drive to Council Bluffs took us the usual 11 hours; at one point
around Kearney, Nebraska, we weren't sure we were going to be able to
get through. Dad said that the Interstate (I-80) had been closed
earlier in the day due to flooding and the forecast called for more
rain. I did a lot of thinking, worrying and praying that this
wouldn't be one of those "vacations from Hell" and see us washed out
to sea somewhere. Another good RAGBRAI life lesson - it doesn't do
any good to worry; things are going to be the way things are going to
be, regardless of how much one worries. We got into CB about 8:00
that night and received a very warm greeting by Dad, Mom and the
Fried Chicken. Well, we kind of greeted the Chicken - it didn't do
much but sit there on our plates. And it didn't do that for very
long.
Our first night's sleeping quarters was in Dad & Mom's newly arranged
basement bedroom. For those of you who haven't seen their house yet
after the remodeling, it's quite different - and very nice. Tim and
I both approved; we got to bring our bikes downstairs with us to make
sure all had a good night's sleep before the beginning of RAGBRAI
XXI.
Saturday, July 24th
We slept in until 8:30 that morning, knowing that it may be the last
dry bed we'd sleep in for a week. By the time we got up, had
breakfast and re-packed it was time to go again. We had agreed to
meet the rest of Team Skidmark in Omaha and drive up to Sioux City
together for the start of the ride. Maybe it's just me, but it was
pretty rough leaving that home with leftover fried chicken, soft dry,
comfortable beds, and Parents who worried while we were out. Maybe
we could just spend our week there, ride the exercise bike indoors,
and go back home in a week, no one but us the wiser? Or not. Karen
just wouldn't buy the story that we "swelled" because of the Iowa
humidity.
Joe & Kim and the kids came over around noon and gave us a personal
escort to Paul's house in Omaha. I was glad they did; I think it
gave them a good idea of how the start of the ride can be a lot of
fun. It was good to see everyone from last year again and get caught
up on their lives during the last 12 months. It was also good to
hear that not many miles had been put on in preparation for this
year's ride. We got to meet the new additions to the group; quite a
few, actually. We were missing 5 folks from last year's Team
Skidmark but had added 10 new members. It's funny how we look back
on that Saturday now - how distant and polite and formal everyone
was; and the growing we did together as we rode over 500 miles
together. Misery loves company.
The drive up to Sioux City was pretty uneventful - three vehicles
loaded down with camping gear, bicycles and people slowly blending
into hundreds of other similarly configured vehicles. Once we got to
our first night's Host Family though, the old RAGBRAI spirit began to
come back. This ride isn't really about pedaling 500 miles across
the state of Iowa - it's about meeting the people of Iowa who open up
their home to total strangers; who turn their refrigerator into a
beer keg with a tap in the door; who give you hourly updates on the
week's forecast from the Weather Channel; who invite their neighbors
over for a BBQ feast that turn their backyard into an instant
campground, complete with grilled flames & smoke; and about the
neighbors who reciprocate by opening up their homes for sleeping
quarters when the lightning & thunder begin to roll in. That's what
RAGBRAI is really about.
One of the rituals of the first night's pre-ride stay is to go into
town and wander aimlessly around the Tent City and the vendor tents
to check out what's on sale this year. Cool T-shirts - it was going
to be a tough decision this year. The same good food was back,
although I didn't feel yet like I'd earned the right to start eating.
There seemed to be more of the pre-ride jitters this year - probably
because it was my second year, and Tim was with me, and the weather
had been the worst in 100 years. I could eventually feel the whole
thing pushing my grumpy meter; I was being eaten up by mosquitoes, I
was hungry, I was tired - and I had paid RAGBRAI for this week long
vacation! Another T-shirt: "Just Shut Up and Ride!" We were ready.
Went to sleep that night after a hot shower on the plush carpeted
floor of the neighbors house next to my son.
Sunday, July 25th
Sioux City to Sheldon - 78 miles
As I found out this year, I've learned to anticipate when the alarm
clocks waken everyone in the camp to signal the start of another
day's ride - and wake up exactly 30 minutes beforehand. Every
morning during the week I would wake up - either to birds, rain or
thunder - at least 30 minutes before Tim's alarm went off. Quite a
talent I quickly learned to correct after RAGBRAI was over.
Sunday morning came quickly - the start of the ride was finally here.
Tim and I got up & dressed and wandered back over to the Host
Family's house, where others were slowly starting to stir. Had a
quick coffee/OJ/muffin breakfast, knowing that anything more on a
queasy, nervous stomach would not make for a good RAGBRAI beginning.
Tim told me afterwards that his nerves almost got the best of him
that morning; he wasn't alone. Many of the riders felt the same way,
regardless of how they looked on the outside.
Since we were about 10 miles from the starting point of the ride, we
all loaded the bikes back on the vehicles and drove out to a starting
point, which actually was about 7 miles into the ride. I remember
that thrill I had last year of merging into this sea of bicycles as
we started the ride; this year it was a little different. We got the
bikes off the racks, checked the tires, put the jackets on (it was
actually cold!) and we were started. Tim and I kept up with each
other for the most part, especially in the beginning miles. As we
got warmed up and put a few miles onto the meters, the anxiety of the
last few days started to melt away. Another RAGBRAI life lesson -
learn to enjoy the journey instead of always looking forward to the
destination.
We made our first official RAGBRAI XXI stop about an hour down the
road, after sailing along with some pretty good cross/tail winds.
Tim seemed to be doing okay; especially after discovering how handy
the corn fields can be. We were getting back onto the bikes after a
short stop, breakfast still down the road a ways, when he started
smiling and pointed to the road. Team Blaster was sailing up the
hill into the crowd with their huge bike-mounted stereo speakers
blaring and about 20 riders in pairs side-by-side trailing the
"boom-bike". Just cooler than a Nike commercial.
The rest of the first day's ride found us with a few hills; nothing
serious unless your butt is sore; and that same cross/tail wind. The
tail-wind part was fine, but heading into the cross-wind got to be a
nuisance after awhile. Tim seemed to lose his energy about 2:00 that
afternoon, just generally tired, sore, and confused. By the time we
got to Sheldon about 4:30 that afternoon, I think he was having some
serious head conversations. But they stayed in his head for the most
part; there was no whining, no crankiness, no quitting. While
several other folks came and went downtown that night, we had
conversations around the Host Family's back yard and got caught up
with everything. More conversations and jokes with newer team
members - don't ask about the Iron Woman competition. The Advil and
bug repellent came out; the food & water stayed out, and the soft
lawn chairs became our friends. I remember wondering before I went
to sleep if I'd done the right thing, bringing Tim out on this 500+
mile ride with no more than 100 miles of preparatory riding before we
left. What a way for him to spend his 16th birthday!
Monday, July 26th
Sheldon to Emmettsburg - 78 miles
Woke up refreshed - 30 minutes before the alarm - and had another
good breakfast fixed by our Hostess. Another good weather day
starting out; not hot, not cool, partly cloudy and slight tailwind.
Later on in the day it turned completely overcast which was even
better. The ride was fairly flat with a few gentle rolling hills;
easier on the butt than Sunday's ride. Lots of flooding coming into
town. Looked like lakes on both sides of the road; the water had
obviously been up over the roadway recently. The smell was
horrendous - moldy, muddy, murky. The Des Moines river used to run
right through the edge of town - now it was all over town. This was
obviously not one of the better spots in Iowa that the RAGBRAI office
had looked at, or told us about, in their letter. The people of town
seemed to be in good spirits though. As we pulled into town, we
stopped to look at our Host-Home directions. One of the locals
stopped along side us and asked if we needed help. Told him the
address of the place we were looking for and he wanted to know the
name of the people. There were probably about 1500-2000 people in
this town. After learning who we were staying with, he immediately,
in this great Andy Griffith-type personality, gave us directions to
the place. I remember thinking 'boy - this sure is a small friendly
town' and then 'what is there about our hostess that makes her that
popular'.
After pulling into town and finding the house, we were informed that
there were "slugs" all over the back yard. (I knew folks were tired
but I really expected the name-calling to wait an hour or so). I
call them snails, but the Midwesterners who've never seen Seattle
Slugs, called them slugs. Your camping gear couldn't sit in the yard
for more than 2 minutes before they'd be covered with the things.
Decided to "order out" for pizza that night - hold the anchovies.
Wasn't any room inside; their basement had flooded from the rain, so
it was another camp-out night. Spent some time cleaning up the bikes
but with the humidity and heat didn't want to move too quickly.
Decided to take in a little of the town life tonight. Took the
Shuttle from Hell into town with Nancy, Tim and Tyler. The van on
the way in was packed and Nancy almost came to blows with some guy in
front of us talking down about Harley 883 Sportsters - before he knew
that Nancy had an 883. I think it was his comment that the 883 was
like "kissing your sister" that got her fired up. Either that or the
way he tried making up to her by saying that kissing his sister
wasn't bad. Hmmm.
The rest of our group had no idea what they were missing; they
decided to drive into town, rather than take the shuttle, and check
out the beer gardens. The shuttle ride back for Tyler, Tim and I was
a little friendlier (I think Nancy decided she needed a beer) - with
sweaty bikers, some of whom were coming back from the beer garden.
The school bus they were using was not used to holding 2 people in
every seat and the aisle full of people. I'm surprised the clutch -
and the driver - lasted as long as it did. The 3 of us got off a
block or two early and enjoyed the cool night air.
Tuesday, July 27th
Emmetsburg to Clarion - 83 miles.
Well, so much for the 30 minutes pre-alarm wakening. About 2:00 this
morning, I was slowly brought out of a deep sleep by the sound of
rain beating on the tent walls. My immediate thoughts were of the
screwed up Weather Channel forecast from Saturday night and how I'm
glad we don't have cable-TV. Some spectacular thunder and lightning.
By the time the 6:00 alarms were going off, I'd slept maybe an
additional 30 minutes, drifting in and out. It's amazing what the
mind does in situations like that - I rationalized all night how we
were on vacation, paying for this trip and, by God, we were going to
enjoy it. It was Tim's birthday and if he didn't have violent
objections, I would show him what driving the support vehicle looked
like for the day. I'm not sure if it was the right decision; I had
that feeling like I'd called in sick on the day the rest of the class
was taking the big Field Trip. But we were going to make ourselves
useful by helping to drive the support vehicles and hanging all the
tents & gear to dry in the next town. I committed my decision by
verbalizing to Paul that Tim and I would be driving for the day. The
real word for not riding is "sagging", but I couldn't bring myself to
use that term - we were driving the support vehicle. We helped
everyone get packed and out on the road, in spite of the overall
weather-related crankiness of some folks. When everyone rolled out
about 8:30 that morning It was gray, overcast, and raining a fine,
but steady mist. Iowa Water Torture. Tim and I helped the other
support ladies load things up before we hit the road on our way to
the next town. All the while, one voice in my head was yelling at me
for wimping out while the other one was patting me on the back for
having some common sense. It really was nice to drive to the
convenience store, fill the Suburban up with gas and get a hot cup of
coffee. Would I have done this last year? Never - last year I had
to prove to myself that I could ride the distance. Did I hurt Tim's
chances of wanting to prove that he could ride the whole distance.
Hell. It was a vacation!
For as much as Tim slept that day, I grew more comfortable with my
decision. Looking back on the week, I'm not sure how things would've
ended up if we'd left with the Team that day. I think this "break"
was just what we needed to put things back into perspective. More
rationalization. After we got out on the road with a little
breakfast in our stomachs, Tim dozed off and slept most of the way
into the next town. He woke up when we got there, helped unload the
vehicles and hang stuff out to dry, met the host family, and fell
back into a sleep for the afternoon - probably close to 4 - 5 hours.
He woke up as the riders started to come in with their stories of the
morning headwind; the ride through the Grotto at West Bend, and
various other circumstances throughout the day. The rain actually
lasted only about 15-30 minutes after they left. We could've made
it. But we didn't.
I gained a stronger respect through this experience for what the
support people usually do for 7 days. Each day as we rode off in
search of the next Pancake stop, our gear would be loaded into the
vehicles, driven into the next town and unloaded in our overnight
location. This year they also managed to work in an "oasis" somewhere
in the middle of a couple of the trips - it truly was an oasis. On
our day of driving, it was all Tim and I could do to unload the
stuff, set it out, hang the wet gear on the clothes line and set up
our own tent. Actually that night, we arranged for inside sleeping
quarters for the whole team so all we had to do was make sure the
gear was dried out. It felt good to get the thanks for doing as
little as we did.
I have to document one of the memories of RAGBRAI XXI for what it's
worth. I mentioned earlier that the real meaning of RAGBRAI is when
people open up their homes to total strangers as we rode through. We
learned that sometimes, just because people are opening up their
homes, doesn't mean that it's for RAGBRAI. We got into Clarion about
10:30 Tuesday morning and found the house with no problem at all.
Patrice, one of the other drivers, had to "use the facilities" in a
very big way. I don't know - maybe it was the constant dripping of
the rain that forced the reaction. Anyway, we got to the house and
noticed the front door and garage open. 'How special' we thought;
typical RAGBRAI response from these small Iowa town families. We
knocked at both front and back doors, got no response, stuck our head
in the door and saw tons of cupcakes. Figured it was in preparation
for 20 some starving bike riders. Patrice wandered into the house in
search of the Facilities, which in your typical mid-western house are
pretty obvious in most cases. She walked to what appeared to be the
bathroom, grabbed the door knob to open the door and as she started
to open it, she heard the sound of running water - not at all unlike
the common midwestern shower. There was someone in the shower!
After closing the door, ever so quietly, she came running out the
door as if she'd just - well - walked in on someone in the shower. A
photo of her reaction would've won the Pulitzer - or at least the
America's Funniest Home Videos! Fortunately, no one other than the
four of us never knew what had happened; ooops - guess that isn't
true any longer, Patrice. Sorry.
Anyway, in spite of the rain, grumpiness, and other trivial tragedies
for the day, it turned out to be one of the better days of the week.
It was probably one of the more hotter/humid days of the trip. Our
host family had arranged to, very conveniently live behind a Catholic
Church that was serving Swiss Steak that night. We treated the host
to dinner, just outside their own back yard, and then walked into
town for some real RAGBRAI looking around. Tim and I discovered that
two of our pictures had been captured along the road on Sunday by the
Candid Cameraman. Each year, there is a photographer that travels
RAGBRAI with us and, in several inconspicuous spots along the road,
hides in the trees and cornfields and "shoots" riders along the road.
He displays these photos in the middle of each overnight town; if you
find your pictures, you "get" to buy them. In spite of the marketing
sound of the whole approach, it's a rare treat to find your photos on
the town board. That night, Tim and I found one of the two of us and
one of just me. Out of 15,000 riders, this guy had picked us off
twice. In California, we'd be lying along side the road. At
RAGBRAI, we spent $4 more dollars so that no one would be able to
enjoy (laugh?) at our pictures. It was a good treat.
After our downtown trip, we walked back to our Host Home and were
informed that because of Tim's birthday, we'd been voted the most
likely candidates for the water bed tonight. Only one other member
had spoken up for that particular bed that night but she thought it
was a joke. Waterbed on RAGBRAI - right. That night, Tim and I got
to enjoy the sloshy water bed while falling to sleep in a real bed as
we watched a Rockies baseball game on ESPN (there's that cable-TV
thing again) - Life just doesn't get much better than this! Quite a
middle of the week vacation treat - a real turning point for the
ride!
Wednesday, July 28th
Clarion to Osage - 85 miles.
It was good to get back on the road again after a day's "rest". We
had a good tail wind; it was partly cloudy and the temperature was
around 85 degrees for 60 miles during the day. The last 25 miles had
a heavy cross-wind but nothing we couldn't handle, looking back on
the day, anyway. Today was the day of the Century Loop - the extra
little loop that was added somewhere in the day so that you could say
you rode 100 miles that day. Another interesting mental process.
Tim and I had talked all day about doing it - we could make the 100
miles; it was just a matter of 'do it'. But as we got closer to the
loop, the wind picked up and the muscles tired out. At one point, in
Dougherty, Iowa, we had stopped for a rest in the town park. This
was the town that we would hit twice if we did the loop. No one else
that we were with (several members of our team) were going to do the
Loop. A Century was something you did if you were in shape or if you
had to prove it to yourself that you could do it. By the time we hit
the turnoff point for the loop, Tim and I had both decided that
neither of the above applied. We had discussed all possible
alternatives: if he wanted to do it I'd ride ahead to the "oasis"
and wait for him. If I wanted to do it, I'd follow the same process.
If we both did it, we'd suffer together. Neither of us turned off at
the loop; the wind was probably about 20 mph as a good headwind and
common sense, once again, took control of our vacation. No problem.
Five out of 18 people did the loop and 3 of those ended up with bike
damage or bodily injuries. Apparently it was a pretty tough loop,
with the road conditions and strong headwind. More discussion of how
we could've made it, but chose not to.
We had one of the better stops this morning of the whole week.
Interesting to note that Tim has been starting out the days rather
quietly until after his initial breakfast stop. We usually left our
camp sites about 7:30 - 8:00 with a minimal breakfast. We always
wanted to hit the road early, work up an appetite and stop after the
first 10-20 miles were on the meter. This morning we decided to vary
the usual pancake breakfasts and stop for biscuits and gravy in the
town of Belmond. They won my vote for the best "ride through" town
of the Ride. They had locals in the street celebrating just as much
as the riders coming through. We had a conversation with one "Floyd
the Barber" type who told us that Belmond had been preparing for
today for about 3 months. It showed, but more than just the bake
sales and t-shirts in the street. It was the attitude of the folks
we talked to that made us feel welcome and that this celebration was
for us. They were truly happy to see 15,000 bike riders come through
their small town (all except for the truck driver who was inching
through Belmond with his hand on the air horn. I thought of Dad
talking about what Shenandoah had been like in earlier RAGBRAIs as he
was driving through that area).
Our ride for the day ended with a great tailwind after battling cross
and/or head winds all afternoon. It was a pretty flat section of
country and as we got a quarter mile or so from the turn where the
winds subsided, you could hear cheers from everywhere. Another 5
miles or so from that point brought Tim and I into our Host Home for
the 5th night.
Wednesday night was probably that point in the ride where there was
an obvious difference in the way everyone felt - about each other and
about themselves. We'd learned the names (and personalities) of
everyone on the Team by then and we were all equally worn out by the
end of every day. We ended up cooking some brats (sausages) and
potatoes, onions and butter in aluminum foil (great camping feast) on
the grill in the yard. While I started the brats, some of the ladies
wrapped up the potatoes inside. I discovered that a gas grill takes
no time at all to cook sausages so I had to do a little modification
when they brought out the raw potatoes to allow the meal to get done
all at the same time. Occasionally, I'd force these huge flames to
come shooting up out of the grill and the smoke always had to be real
thick. I wanted to give the ladies the impression that us guys,
while we could cook, couldn't make it look quite as easy and
organized as they did. It was one of the better overnight stays I
can recall for the week. This Host had been a farmer all his life
and recently retired from it all. He was great to talk to about what
he saw that had changed over the years but it was obvious he didn't
regret retiring. I remember parking our bikes in his garage/barn -
the smell of hay that hit us walking through the door took me back at
least 30 years to Grandma and Grandpa's old farm. Amazing how smells
can have such a strong mental connection so quickly. But this farmer
wasn't entirely removed from the 20th century - in addition to his
gas grill, he owned an air compressor that those campers with air
mattresses immediately fell in love with. That night, we even had
dessert - Patrice bought Tim a birthday cake. Things got a little
punchy after Tim used my pocket knife to cut the cake (or was it the
fingernail file). The pain and the wind from 4 or 5 hours earlier
had long since been forgotten.
Thursday, July 29th
Osage to Decorah - 69 miles.
Thursday seemed to be one of the best days for riding, all things
considered. We had a good nights sleep "out on the farm". But the
wind kept hitting through the morning. Tim was his usual quiet self
before the breakfast stop but even afterwards today. We just let it
be; no prying. He told me afterwards that he had been thinking about
the 60 miles left today; 83 hilly miles tomorrow and 54 miles the
last day - seemed overwhelming; downright depressing. He worked it
out though; I finally got him talking about that sports thing or
flying to Louisville in a couple of weeks to see his cousins. About
midmorning we started smelling the usual pork chops and decided that
this was the day. I've told the story of these Iowa Chops before but
for those of you who didn't hear/read it, let me just say that you've
probably never had pork chops like RAGBRAI serves pork chops. About
25 miles outside of town, this old Iowa Hog Caller will set up his
Iowa Chops stand - every day of the ride. You know they're coming
when you start seeing the signs - Iowa Chops - 10 miles; Iowa Chops 5
miles. Then after you pass the 1 mile marker, you'll start to smell
them - grilled pork chops tend to put out smoke and aroma that
carries for a mile. As you get closer, you're starting to drool now,
you'll hear this guy out along the side of the road, bellowing out "P
P P O O O R R R K K K K C C C H H H O O O P P P S S S S ! ! ! !".
He's got this deep, gargling voice that is unmistakable and can't be
imitated, although hundreds of people try during each day. Those
that can't fight the urge any longer pull off, give the man $4 and
grab a napkin off the pile to pick out your very own 1-2" thick Iowa
Pork Chop. Tender, juicy, and gooood (just like Andy Griffith and
Ritz crackers). I even let Tim take the first bite; we shared the
chop just in case he didn't like it - ha ha. The rest of it took
about 3 minutes to finish and I won't make myself any hungrier
writing about it. It's just one of those things in life that
everyone should be so lucky to experience at least once - and now Tim
has joined that crowd.
The rest of Thursday got better - we met up with the rest of our Team
and rode with them for awhile. Finished off the day by pedaling
into Decorah and some of the most beautiful, rich, green country of
the week - probably of the state. We were looking forward to tonight
because of the air conditioned college dorms (Luther College) we'd be
sleeping in - and the fact we got to do laundry. We walked into town
that night; had another church dinner. This was the second time this
week we ate in the church sponsored dinner but they handled the
waiting the same way in both places. You'd get in line, buy your
ticket (limited by the number of dinners they could serve) and then
you'd go wait in the main part of the church. Found this to be very
peaceful and relaxing - almost a spiritual renewal - but also great
crowd control. After dinner we wandered around Decorah (check out
what food we missed along the streets and Tim did a review of the
card stores) before checking out the dorm rooms. Real (college)
showers. Beds were nothing more than a single mattress on a wooden
box but it sure beat the ground.
It's funny - this year there have been fewer hills the first part of
the week but more talk (rumors) of what Friday was going to be like.
I know that had to wear on Tim but it was something I could not keep
from him - he just learned how to deal with it. No matter how much
we heard (10 "killers" just outside of Decorah, hills all day - big
ones, etc.) the hills would be there and we would have to ride them.
I wasn't worried (much) and knew that we'd just take them one at a
time. The Team had already promised Tim a Sports Massage on Friday
night so I think he was just preparing himself to get through the
day. But it's interesting how much the rumors tend to change the
outcome.
Friday, July 30th
Decorah to Manchester - 82 miles.
The day of the ride everyone was talking about all week. Rumors were
flying about how many and tough the hills really were - the more you
heard, the worse it got. Even the serious riders (those with the
unquestionable lycra license) were talking. I don't think Tim was
worried about "can I make them" but more "how long will it take".
Visions of pulling into the campsite about 9:30 tonight. We got
underway from the Luther College Dorms for a just-do-it day. I had
read the Des Moines Register paper that morning, left at the door of
our dorm room, and the paper was forecasting an 83 degrees with 5-10
mph southeasterly winds. I thought that meant the winds would be
blowing into a southeasterly direction which would've been great tail
winds. As I now know, it means blowing from the southeast - just the
direction we were headed. Oh well, just another fact we didn't have
to worry about.
The hills turned out to be there but I can't say they were better or
worse than anticipated. Looking back on it, I'd say not as bad, but
as we were climbing each one (for what seemed like 30 minutes each)
the rumors described the situation correctly. Each hill was between
a 5 to 10% grade and went on for up to a mile or mile and a half.
They labeled the first hill "Killer #1" right outside of Decorah - no
coffee, no breakfast. Just legs, gears, and grunts. As we started
the climb, I looked up the hill - mistake #1. I could see no end to
the climb and people were already getting off to walk. That's what
God made 21 speeds for and we kept shifting down until we had no
gears left. The top of the first one came and then we saw the sign -
"You made it - only 9 more to go!". Aaarrrggghhh!
The good thing about each of these hills was that for every one you
went up, you got to come down the other side. But after the third or
fourth hill, we began to hate the down-hill side, because you knew
you'd be paying for it at the bottom, looking up at another one. In
spite of the work, this was the prettiest ride of the whole trip.
For those of you that ever get a chance, I'd recommend driving this
stretch of Iowa - and bring your camera. I don't know how high we
were climbing, but at one particular hilltop there was mention of St.
Peter.
After a few more hills, we would just put our heads down and climb.
Neither Tim nor I stopped once until we reached the top of each hill
which was especially good in his case, considering the little
climbing we did in preparation for the ride. We just took our time
and even a quick nap in a couple of towns. I remember one town that
as we rode into it, you could see the next killer hill on the far
side of the same road. I didn't want to stop knowing what was
waiting after we rested, but I was too hungry and tired to go fight
it now. We stopped, ate, drank tons of water, slept and it was still
terrible. But we felt better getting over the other side.
About halfway through the day we came to the town of Arlington that
advertised "Where the prairie meets the hills". Either those were
the hills and we had made it through the worst of them or we were in
for pure hell the rest of the day. As it turned out, the rest of the
day was pretty relaxing; nice sun, not much wind, and not many hills.
I don't recall how many there were all morning; I stopped counting at
the top of what I thought was number 3 and they failed to count hill
#2. It was either a joke, or they didn't think the second killer was
worth calling a hill. This was our longest day on the rode - nearly
7 hours, even though it was only about 83 miles. I don't believe we
were ever so happy to see the end of the riding day as we were today.
That night Tim got his massage as promised - said it felt better the
next day than after the day he drove with me. Hmmm. Have to look
into that if there's a next time.
Saturday, July 31st
Manchester to Dubuque - 54 miles.
The last day. Woke up my usual 30 minutes ahead of time but I felt
better; more relaxed today. No problem sleeping last night at all,
but no stiffness or soreness left over today. Listened to the birds
and (what I thought was) distant thunder. The thunder kept getting
closer to the lightning until I noticed that the sunlight wasn't
casting it's usual morning shadow. A little drizzle for the last
day; how special. Everyone was up and rolling by the usual time with
plans to meet about 9 miles before the finish spot so we could all
ride in to Dubuque together as a team. Good idea in our hot pink
shirts - looks really cool when the Teams ride in together. I
remember last year that Team Skunk must have had about 100 members
trailing into town together. Our 15-20 would be impressive enough.
No sooner had we pulled away from the overnight home than it started
to rain. And it continued to rain almost all of the day. At one
point, we had some great lightning shows across the sky in front of
us; what did they say to do if the lightning got too bad on a bike.
Call a taxi sounded good to me.
We rode into Dyersville, town where the Field of Dreams movie was
set, for breakfast. In honor of all the water we had submarine
sandwiches. Rode from there out to the FOD movie site and futzed
around for an hour or so. It's a pretty acreage and looks exactly as
it did in the movie. Tim and I went out to right field to see if we
disappeared as we walked into the corn. Must have been special
effects because when we came back out the bikes were still there. We
grabbed a couple of token souvenirs and rode on. In addition to the
rain, we had the worst roads of the entire week today; cracks, bumps,
pot holes - dirt would've been easier to ride on. We saw two
ambulances drive out from towns during the ride, which was always a
depressing site. You knew that someone's day had been messed up.
There weren't many stops along the way and probably for that reason
everyone just kept on riding. Only a few miles more in the whole
week so not many stops. We finally got to the meeting point for the
rest of our team and no bright pink shirts in sight. If they were
there we wouldn't have been able to see them anyway because the
raincoats would've been hiding the colors. Tim and I took turns
getting grumpy - we were both getting too cold and wet to stop and
rest yet too sore to keep going. We kept going, but didn't say many
words those last few miles. At one point, I was complaining about
the roads, the rain, my butt and probably a few other things too.
His advice: "Just deal with it, Dad", and kept riding. I don't know
if he was serious or trying to cheer me up; fortunately for both of
us, he did the latter. He started to get cranky because he was
getting hungry and cold & wet. We thought about stopping but we were
too close to stop for anything.
Kept riding through the streets - lined with more local people than
other towns had been. They were hollering the usual 'howdy' and
'hello' and then we started hearing 'nice job', 'way to go', and
'welcome to Dubuque'! No, couldn't be - the map and our meters still
showed us with about 5 miles to go. Tim said he wouldn't believe it
until he saw it in writing. No sooner had the words left his mouth,
than we turned the corner to see "Dubuque High School"! We had
arrived! We had taken our bicycles across the state of Iowa. We
were there. Suddenly, the people cheering along the streets began to
take on a whole new meaning. The crankiness, hunger and pain went
away - we would float in the rest of the way - down to the
Mississippi River. And we wouldn't have to climb the hill on the
other side of it either!
We finally made it to the river, did the traditional tire-dipping,
and headed for the nearest food stand, where we inhaled two whole
slices of pizza with a couple of sausage sandwich chasers. We had to
stay around the finish-line area for awhile just to soak up the mood
- and a little more rain. It became clear though that we wouldn't be
able to stay for too long as the rain seemed to come down harder. We
were getting colder and wetter, if that was possible at that point.
I can remember riding along one stretch of road feeling the water
'gush' between my toes because my shoes were so wet.
We pulled out one of our maps which would get us to our final Host
Home. The map was of Dubuque and pretty tiny lettering with the
route highlighted with one of these yellow HiLiter markers. It
didn't take but about three stops to check directions before our
route was washing down the streets of Dubuque. We finally made it to
the main street that would eventually take us to the house but I
stopped to call the Hostess from a convenience store just to make
sure we weren't heading in the wrong direction. She answered the
phone; we were the last ones to come in and yes we were headed in the
right direction. I told her where I was and asked her for
approximate distance to go. She asked one of the other riders who
had followed the same map and was told about half an hour and it was
a pretty steep hill. I went back out to tell Tim with a fake smile
that we were almost there. No mention of 30 minutes more and no
mention of hills. Thoughts of calling a taxi ran through my mind.
What the hostess had been informed was that it was about 30 minutes
from the river to her house; we had already traveled about 20. After
walking our bikes up the worst part of the hill (the official ride
was over - we weren't fools) we found the right street then the
proper address and were soon greeted at the garage door with towels,
cold beer/soda, hot fresh-ground coffee, and, yes - even a camera. I
can't wait to see those pictures. We were given directions directly
to the shower (two separate showers - this was a nice house!) and
that's the last thing I remember. What seemed like a week later, Tim
and I emerged from our respective showers, slowly warming to the
bones, and recapped the day's ride with the rest of the group. Some
of the folks had rides waiting in Dubuque so had come earlier to the
house to pick up their gear and left. The rest of us would stretch
out in the comfort of this beautiful home (occupants included) and
slowly come to the realization that another ride had ended. It was a
little tough coming to such a reality when the Hostess served us
breakfast Sunday morning - an angel-hair pasta dish with eggs,
onions, salmon and topped with caviar! Caviar on RAGBRAI! Those who
left early would regret this one - it would be tough to top in future
years!
So will there be future years? Tim has already said he'd like to do
it again. I did it last year to prove to myself that I could do it
as I approached my 40th birthday; I did it this year to spend some
good times with my Son and to prove that I could do it twice in a
row. I don't doubt that I could do it again but I believe that there
needs to be a new challenge for me; something different is out there
waiting for me - I'm just not sure what it is yet. Each year's ride
was different; I can't say which one was better - it's like asking
which one of your children you like best. They were both an
experience of a lifetime and taught me many good lessons. They also
introduced me to many new friends which, regardless of my riding in
future RAGBRAIs, will always remain my friends.
If there were a moral from this story it would be that once in a
while we all need to do something that challenges our limitations.
It may not be riding a bicycle across 500 miles of Iowa in the middle
of the summer (even now that sounds insane) but it must be something
that you don't believe you would ordinarily do - or could do. What
you will find, as I (and I believe Tim) did is that there's a pretty
good soul inside this body that rarely gets the attention that it
deserves until such a challenge forces that soul to come alive again.
For Tim, I think it'll be a 16th birthday he will never forget - at
least until he can sit down again! As for me, I've learned to "Just
Deal With It".
|
|
Well, it's turning to winter now, so I thought I'd recall what we did last
summer! Here's my log of Ragbri '93. Some backround: MT (Mary Tedd) is my
wife (then fiance), Pam is a friend of ours, Lyle is my father, and we
did the ride on a tandem. (We'd put approximately 500 miles on it, since
April when we bought it. Mostly due to mechanical problems - spoke breakage
being the worst of them). These notes were taken on my Zeos palmtop, so
they reflect how each day went, in "real time", as it were. Enjoy!
6:36 pm 7/24
We're in Souix City, Iowa, in a makeshift tent city that sprang up quite
literally in a manner of hours. It was an interesting adventure getting here!
After Pam dropped us off at the airport, we dragged the bike down to the
baggage area, where the man took a look at the box, and asked us if it was
a tandem. After hearing our affirmative, he said "We don't take tandems."
Mary Tedd then explained that she had called and had been told that it wasn't
a problem. The guy grumbled a bit, and said that he would take it, but
wouldn't garantee it getting to Souix City, since we would be taking a
smaller plane on our connecting flight. But, the people in Chicago were very
nice, and were able to get the big box on board. Then, when we arrived at
Souix City, one of our fellow passengers (Tim) offered to take us to the
Motel 6 down the road. We jammed the box in his mini-van, with MT holding on
to it in the back, and made it to the hotel without incident. We checked in,
and thankfully tumbled into bed, at 1:30 our time. The next day started out
cloudy, and rainy, so we went back to sleep for a couple more hours. When
we actually made it up at 8:30 (local), the weather had changed into a
bright, hot day. MT called all of the taxi, truck services, and even a
handicapped transportation company, to try and find someone who could take
us and the big box to the Souix City Auditorium. One company finally could
help us, as one of their employees had a truck, and offered to drive us for
$20. He was a nice guy (Randy), and was very patient with us, as we figured
out where the Quad Cities Bike Club truck actually was. After saying goodbye,
I started assembling the tandem, with MT setting up the tent. At this point,
we were the only ones in the roped off area reserved for the club. (I'm
going to guess that this will be the last time that'll happen!) We got
everything squared away, talking to a couple of other guys who rode in.
They had arrived yesterday, and had gotten their picture in the paper,
along with an interview on the 10:00 news for having just finished riding
the whole route backwards in six days and being ready to ride 530 miles this
week with the rest of us! Iowians make a big deal out of
Ragbri. There are lots of events scheduled for tonight, like concerts by
Dolly Parton, Bachman Turner Overdrive, and a zydeco group. We're going
to give it a miss, though, in favor of a good night's sleep. (Hopefully,
the ear plugs will be effective!) We walked to the auditorium area, where
all of the food vendors, bike shops selling t-shirts, ragbri information
booth, etc were set up. Had a couple of chicken tacos (grilled - very good),
lemonade, turkey breast sandwich, (also good). Went back to camp, to check
if the rest of the club had arrived, (only the baggage semi had), and read
awhile. A couple pointed out the Riverside bar and grill, so we walked there
and had a couple of frozen margaritas, remarking on how enervated we were
by the heat, but not caring since we are on vacation! Then another long
stroll (comparatively), to get a jug of water, and end up here. MT picked
up our purple registration braclets, which we snapped on, and won't remove
until the end of the ride. The bike also has two braclets.
Oh, I forgot to mention the dance number we saw after our first snack
session by the local high school Raiderettes. They were pretty good!
We also talked to another couple about the drum brake quick release, and I
was jelous of their front speakers on their tandem! Maybe I'll rig
something like this. Well, I'm signing off for now...
Sheldon, 77 miles 7/25/93
MT woke me up at 5:30, after a restless night. It was hot, noisy, and
buggy. Even with ear plugs, we weren't able to block out the noise of people
setting up, and general horsing around. The morning dawned hot, and I thought
we'd be frying by the end of the day. But, as we got going, it clouded up,
and soon I was wondering if we were going to get rained on! We stopped for
a great pancake breakfast at Ellendale, 6.2 miles outside Souix City. There
were some rolling hills, and we got to practice conservation of momentum.
After breakfast, we rolled on to Merril, were we almost went down. There was
a crack between two cement slabs, and I managed to get the bike in it,
as we were decending into town. Needless to say, the event was quite exciting,
with the handle bars juddering nervously. Somehow, I managed to keep the bike
in a straight line, and we escaped without mishap! Then on through the towns
of Le Mars, Oyens, and Alton, where we stopped for a grilled turkey sandwitch.
This has now become MT's favorite. By this time, the cross winds were really
kicking up, and proving bothersome. However, when we headed east (only
occasionally, unfortunatly), they became tailwinds, and we felt really
strong, as we zoomed up to 20-30 mph! The last leg into Sheldon was hard,
although livened up by stopping for some free ice cream samples along the
way. We also had a chance to talk to another tandem, who told us it would
take about a year to get really comfortable on ours. Once we got to Sheldon,
at 11:50 (we started at 6:00, bike computer reports ave speed of 16.9 mph,
43 max), we setup the tent at the Quad Cities bike club section of the
high school field, took hot showers (wonderful!), and bought a booklet
of six 1/2 massages for $100. I had one immediately, which really helped
the quads, back, and hamstrings. Then we caught the shuttle bus into town,
wandered along street fair, buying ice tea, nachos, lemonade, popcorn, etc.
Tried to visit the prairie museum, but it was closed. Then went to the Elks
club, and had a couple of drinks, and I iced my achille's tendon. We decided
that the home made lasanga dinner at St. Pauls Church sounded the best for
dinner, so off we went. It was good, although I was still hungry when we
were done. (Even after we shared a brownie sundae!) Then caught the shuttle
home, which is where we are now. It's turned into the hot, sunny day I
thought we were going to have originally!
Emmetsburg 7/26/93
77.5 miles, 18.5 mph ave, 43 max. Our average speed was up from yesterday,
due to the favorable winds! We were really crusing today, and the route was
mostly eastern. We got up at 5:00, left at 10 of, had breakfast in Archer,
pop. 143. At 6:30, they had a singing group for us, under a bright, sunny
sky. The pancakes were great, as was the sauage. The griddle guy was having
some fun, flipping pancakes into a plate held by a woman. Then on to
Primghar ("the only one in the world"), were we topped of the water, bought
VeryFine orange juice, met up with the tandem couple we'd chatted with
yesterday (the crab couple, so named because of their crab club t-shirts),
then went on. It started clouding up again, about 10:00, when we stopped
for another Turkey Tom's grilled turkey breast sandwich. Along the way to
Ayrshire, a couple of other tandems caught up with us, and we cruised
comforably along at 25 mph, until we dropped our chain when getting into
the big chain ring. Oh, before Ayrshire, we stopped for a bit at Gillett
grove, were I gave a tandem ride to three little girls. While I was off
with one of them, the other two practiced a song on MT that they were later
going to sing to the crowd. A seemingly long 12.8 miles tooks us the rest
of the way to Emmetsburg. (Half of it was heading north, which changed our
tail wind to a cross wind). Other than the 1 1/2 miles of dirt road we
had to deal with (MT supplying helpful pedaling comments, as I'm wresting
the tandem through it), the ride was very enjoyable. When we got to Emmets-
burg, we did the usual - pitch the tent, shower, and then headed to the
Iowa Sports Massage tent, for MT's turn at getting a massage. Then we hopped
on the shuttle, and stopped at A&W for a big root beer float and onion rings.
After that, we walked into the main part of town, bought post cards, and I
had a pork loin. Very tasty - the pigs were from the Iowa state farm fair.
We also ran into the crab couple again, chatted about the great tailwind,
and the dirt road. Then we walked to the country club, for an all-you-can-
eat spagetti dinner. I managed to finally get enough to feel full! (Two
plate's worth). For dessert, we had a couple of maragritas, which when down
pretty quickly. Then back to the campground to digest, and catch up the
logbook!
Clarion 83 miles
The day started out rainy, as we got up at 5:00. Packed quickly, and were
on the road to Mallard, were we had Chris Cakes fine pancakes once again.
We were entertained by the pancake flipping skill, and MT tried to capture
on film a couple of the flips. The rest of the ride until lunch is best
summarized by slow pain. The headwinds were so ficrce.
I'll have to continue tomorrow, as it's getting dark and MT needs a leg
massage.
Osage - 87 miles, ave 17.5 July 27
Did the usual - up at 5:00, on the road at 6:00. Stopped for breakfast
at St. Olaf's, 9 miles north of Clarion. Soon after breakfast, we turned
east, and picked up a great tailwind. This carried us quickly to Belmond,
were they really turned out the town for us. We had to walk the bikes
through the throngs. Nice town! (They gave us all stickers with "I heart
Belmond".) Then another quick 22 to Sheffield. Only a bathroom break there.
Off to Dougherty, a very small town, where we snapped a picture of a really
strange contraption, and MT called work, while I called Lyle. After Dougherty,
it was a hard 14 miles to Rockford, going against the wind. Our average
dropped from 20-30 mph to 10-14. But Rockford was great - it's the home to
the devoinan fossile beds, and they gave us all a souviener one to take home.
Plus, they had a great open air cookout, where I bought a baked potato,
of which i saw very little of, as MT snagged most of it! Also talked to a
local, who was retired, and rebuilt old tractors for fun, including a 1920s
one that he'd found rusted in a field, as well as the 1930s one he'd started
farming with. He made it very clear that he worked only on John Deeres,
though. MT dragged me away, and we went on to Rudd, upwind again. Not much
to see in Rudd, but we did take a picture beside a huge tractor. Oh, and
it seemed that the theme today was christmas. Rudd, and the some of the other
towns were into it. Another 15 miles into the wind, with the final strech
of a few miles, brought us to Osage. We had an ok manacotti dinner, and
I also had sardines and crakers, bought at the supermarket. (Yuck, said MT).
Watched some of the local talent at the variety show, including some of
Mrs. Breckenridge's piano pupils, and the Shakespear repretory players.
Our tent is set up under a big tree, and the former headwinds are keeping
things very cool. Off to brush our teeth, etc.
To continue yesterday's log, we stopped at all of the towns along the way,
mostly to rest. It was a long day, definitely one of the hardest I've ever
done. Had to stop 1 1/2 miles away from the end, were MT hosed me down with
a water bottle, to cool me off. (Another example of how nice people are here:
a guy was waiting for some of his friends, in his truck, and got out to see
how we were). Some of the highlights of the ride were: the grotto in West
Bend, built out of rocks by a priest over a number of years. Then there were
the paracutes used to decorate the streets overhead in Ottosen. I heard later
that they had quite a time keeping them up off the ground with all of the
wind. After we had cold showers at the pool in Clarion, we went to a movie,
mainly to get out of the head. We saw "Dennis the Menace". Pretty amusing.
Then had dinner at the food booths along the main drag. MT watched a rib
eating contents. She reports that the winner ate 35 ribs in 10 minutes. One
hog has only eight! The hailarous part was that the guy was short, and doesn't
even like ribs. Then back to camp for a beastly hot night's sleep in our
portable sanua.
Decorah. 70 miles, 17.1 mph ave, 40 max July 29
Today's ride was nice - no killer headwinds, sunny but not too hot. We
decided to change our morning routine,and eat in town. After calling MT's
parents and describing the trip up to now, we headed to Ungar's for a
breakfast buffet. They served Belgian waffles, French toast, ham, bacon,
sausage, scrambled eggs,and fruit salad. It was great! But it still had the
same features we were used to - lines, styrofoam plates, and plastic silver-
ware. Afterwards, we headed off with all of the other late risers into the
sunrise. Our first stop was New Haven, were we stopped to put on sunscreen
and then push on to Riceville. We didn't stay long there either. Our next
stop was Schley, where we bought good lemonade. Cresco, the town after, was
great fun! They gave us a train whistle ("Creso is more than a whistle stop"),
and periodically tooted a steam train whistle. I had a root beer float
immediately when we got to town. MT headed off and bought very good, very
fresh corn, and a piece of rhubarb pie. To go with my float, I also had a
taco with all of the extras. We then headed out for our last leg into
Decora. About this point, the countryside started changing, with more hills
and trees. MT said it looks similar to upstate New York. A last downhill,
with a short (but steep) uphill took us into town.
[MT is now continuing the log]
Decora is a very nice town, more progressive than any other place that
we've been so far, probably because there's a small college here. We are
camped at the college ("Luther") which is very pretty with lots of trees and
big green lawns. After we showered and set up camp (and MT finished the book
she was reading) we went in to the town. We considered going to the Norwegian
Museum (the town is rich in Norwegian heritage and culture) but decided it might
be worth $4. We then had a "snack" at the local food coop (hummus, tabouleh and
frozen yogurt pops). After walking up and down Main Street and checking out all
the shops and stands (where Rob had two more "snacks" of awesome onion rings &
an Indian taco, both of which MT helped him eat..) we found a nice "crunchy"
restaurant at which to have dinner. Rob had chicken creole and MT had spinach
lasagne. For dessert we shared a hazelnut cheesecake of which Rob ate the
majority because MT was just too stufffed!
Mancester. 80 miles, 16.3 mph ave 42 max Fri, July 30
Today was the day of the "killer" hills. We hit the first one coming out
of town, which is just what our tired muscles needed. The next one was shortly
thereafter, and that was the last one marked for us, out of ten. So we never
really knew which hills were ordinary, or killer. Our first stop was for
breakfast at Ossian (pronounced Aw Shun - german) at the volunteer fire
station, where the pancake man was set up. MT liked the 'cakes there, as
they had more body. I thought they were too cakey. After breakfast, we put
on lots of sunblock, as it was a very sunny day, and headed out. A couple
more big hills brought us into another river valley, and the town of West
Union, where we bought some bananas.
MT now...Rob's too boring.
The hills weren't as bad as we expected today. Even though we had to use the
granny gear to get up the long hills, we manged to attack them pretty well.
I stood as much as my knee would allow but that wasn't much and it jolted Rob's
achille's too much. It seemed that we made good time when on the bike but all
day I thought we were stopping too much and for too long and would arrive in
Manchester far behind our friends Bob and Sharon (50s tandemers from Baltimore)
and Kristy (single rider, albeit married, from Seattle-- a hot ticket person
too). Wouldn't you know, though, that after bugging Rob all day that we were
stopping too much and for too long, we get in before almost everyone else,
relatively speaking of course. I'm still glad that we didn't spend any longer
than we did in the hot sun on the bike. We're both turning into brown berries,
even with using #15 sunblock (most of the time...).
Saturday, Dubuque, 54 miles, 15.1 mph ave.
[MT is writing]
Here, finally, at last. And our butts are not just sore, they're raw. And the
ride today was not flat and easy as we had expected. It was rainy, windy and
fairly hilly. Rolling hills, but hills no less. Rob just about died from
achilles pain and my knees were not too happy either. But we're here in the
pouring rain in Dubuque sitting under a semi, waiting for our bus to arrive to
take us to Daenport. There, we have reservations at a nice "European style"
hotel where we will bathe for a good long time, snuggle, eat dinner (with
lots of fresh vegetables, I hope) and CRASH.
[Rob is writing]
The route took us through Delaware, Earlville (namesake of the town were
the crab couple live), Dyersville, Epworth, and Centrialia, before ending
in Dubuque. The end of the ride was a bit of a let down, anti-climatic in
fact. But it was good to finish! Overall, it was a good experience, and we
have a much better feel for the tandem. (We'd done almost as many miles in
one week as we'd done in the previous three months!) No mechanical problems,
fortunatly. We met some very nice people on the trip, and the local people
invariably made us feel welcomed. Even in the small towns! I think we'll
probably do another one someday, especially if MT's father wants to.
|