109 Day 7 I to G: So Much Can Happen on Highway 52

So, one of the things about ragbrai, is that they don't close the roads. And, I think that is a good thing. The roads are open to cyclist all year, just as they are to cars. And cars and bikes have to peacably co-exist. Most of the time, cars are at the advantage, but on ragbrai, there are tons of bikes. Which, for the most part, forces cars to slow down and take it easy for that 1 painful 13 mile stretch of their day that year. It is sort of like a very open and friendly Critical Mass. 

So, Highway 52 wasn't closed. And, not only was it not closed, it was also the driver's route in and out of Guttenberg. Yup. Everybody, and I mean everybody, was on this road. Buses going into Guttenberg. Buses going out of Guttenberg. Regular cars. Cyclists. Everybody. Which was a bit hectic, to say the least. I always like my final miles to feel like I have just won something and it is hard when you are worried about living. Combine that with what is always a huge descent into the river valley and you have mayhem. 

You can imagine my delight, then, when I looked up and spotted Steven standing near a tent on the side of the road. "They have beef sticks!" she yelled. And I pulled over. Though the boys were ahead, this seemed like a good regroup spot. When I had inched away from Masinga, she was not a happy beaver, to say the least. And we thought she might need a bit of morale and processed shelf stable meat. 

As we stood there holding up the USTS, I heard a rustling and saw a middle aged man emerge from the corn with the befuddlement and wonder of Kramer entering Jerry's apartment. 

I started giggling and yelled out something like, "did everything come out alright?" And, he laughed and came over and we got to chatting. He was from Seattle, I think. And had some some ragby before. He loved it. Loved the corn. Loved peeing in the corn. Loved Iowans. Loved riding his bike. I agreed with everything. 

And, when I looked up Masinga had arrived. "We have beef sticks!" Steven yelled. 

We had assumed the beef sticks were going to be a screaming deal. Three for a dollar! Boom! But they were the tiny kind. Just a morsel, really. But we handed one over to her just the same and commenced to munching and watching riders and yelling stupid stuff. There may have been some crying too. Oh ragby.