RAGBRAI 2019: The Tenth One

Hello Beaver Fam!

I have come out of my hidey hole/blog retirement to wish you annual season's greetings on this year's RAGBRAI. And, of course, I also have some feelings, so I am going to process them here. This is sort of a greeting card + milestone marker + therapy + PSA blog post. 

Ten years ago, on the eve of RAGBRAI, I was filled with anxiety and trepidation. In fact, I'd been hoping (not really [okay, maybe a bit]) that I would be struck by a minor catastrophic injury. Maybe a nice leg break? Something clean, not too painful, so that I wouldn't have to actually go on RAGBRAI. 

Yet my old blue and white Trek was packed up, and in the morn, I'd be departing for Council Bluffs, just as I will be tomorrow. Back then it was just me, Steven, and the Mayor (who wasn't even the Mayor, yet, or had not been named). Lexi was there too. We were using the Bike World charter, and I dipped my tires, and hoped for the best. 

Honestly, I don't know what I was worried about. I was the fittest I had been in a long time, having lost, that spring about 40 pounds, thanks to the Juice magazine fitness challenge. I'd been riding my bike on the Raccoon Valley Trail, and I'd been out at least 400 miles. My fears were totally unfounded. In my first 1/4 mile of RAGBRAI, some goofball next to me couldn't get unclipped at the traffic jam leaving the camp ground and fell over. And, on Monday or Tuesday I hit a crack and crashed my bike, chewing up my calf and my confidence, but with my pals, I powered through the pain, and nerves, and rain, and karaoke, and before long we were dipping our tires in Dubuque. Ah memories. 

Since that fateful first RAGBRAI, so much has changed. The embryo that Steven was cultivating on that first RAGBRAI, which made her make me help her fake drink so know one would know, is now a full human child with thoughts and emotions and hobbies. We've gone from the Bike World charter, to a cobbled together series of vans and drivers, to a full RV, and then back again. The team, which actually became a team in all these years, swelled to 14 people. We've got jerseys, and stickers, and koozies, and a reputation. (Last year, Pochy talked to some other rider and he asked how many people were on our team. When she said, "about 10," the guy was surprised because, "I see you guys everywhere.") 

Our non-RAGBRAI lives have changed as well. Friends and boyfriends have come and gone. Beavers have gotten married, divorced, advanced degrees, new houses. We've done all the major life stuff that is supposed to happen between the years of 27 and 37. 

This year, I am feeling a same-same, though different kind of RAGBRAI-nerves. For one, I am completely under trained. I haven't been on the MadOne once this year, though I have taken the MotherTrucker out for a few spins. I've had a very busy summer. I've been traveling, and sailing, and working, and buying a house. I'll admit, I over committed. And, bicycling seems to be one of the many things that has fallen by the wayside.

Also bicycling just doesn't hold the same magical appeal over me that it once did. I used to be crazy about riding my bike. I used to ride out to meet the Tiger on the trail, after he got off work, then he and I would ride out to Cumming for Tacopocalypse Night. It was so fun feeling strong, and free, and zooming along down those tree lined trails. Where did that go? (It doesn't help that I am not 27 anymore).

Now, I feel the same sort of crazy about sailing. I just love it. People think I am joking, but I honestly would never say "no" to a boat ride right now. I don't care what the conditions are. I am in. Sailing is challenging. There's so much to learn, so much possibility for adventure. 

The other issue is that I don't really have folks to ride with. As all our lives have gotten more complicated, it's harder and harder to get together for a ride. Everyone has jobs and houses and dogs that also demand their time, so it's hard to get together. Plus, I broke up with my bike-riding boyfriend, and as little as I like to admit it, having a partner who is equally interested in bicycling does encourage more bicycling. I also hate admitting that I just don't love riding my bike by myself all the time. I don't mind riding alone sometimes, but this summer, I rode my bike to this new bar in the East Village to try the "coffee drink." It was delicious, but I felt so self conscious, drinking alone, in a bar, in spandex, as a fat woman, alone. No one does anything alone in this town, and I just felt so ridiculous. 

Things have changed. It'd be silly to pretend that they haven't. Not all for the worse, of course. Last year, 2018, was my happiest RAGBRAI ever. I never felt so in-the-moment, so carefree, so comfortable with myself, despite the fact that I had to buy a new wheel on Monday. I think that's why I didn't write about it. It was just too good (and good writing requires conflict). 

At one point, this spring, Pochy and I were talking and she mentioned the idea that we might want to not wait for each other on the outskirts of town like we have done traditionally. (Pochy, by the way, has ridden a TON this year, and it shows. She's fast and fit and fabulous. Nice work, Pochs!) And, I think that might not be a bad idea. I say this as one of the people that probably benefits the most from all the waiting. I didn't train this year. That wasn't fair to my teammates, and I have to live with those consequences. If that means I am by myself a lot this year, okay. If that means I have to endure the "encouragement" of much slimmer riders as they pass me going uphill, okay. Those are the breaks.

My lack of training is also not really fair to RAGBRAI. I am not treating RAGBRAI with the respect it deserves. I think this is a curse from my first very fit + very easy first RAGBRAI. It was much less challenging that I expected, with the exception of Potter's Fucking Hill. And so subconsciously, I decided I didn't really need to worry about RAGBRAI. And since then they have nearly all kicked my ass. People, like, train for RAGBRAI. It's like a big deal for people. By contrast, my (failing) strategy is to just worry about it all season, feel guilty for not riding my bike, and then hate myself for an entire week. 

This is not sustainable. 

I don't want to break my leg. I threw my back out once in the last ten years, and I don't want to go through that kind of pain again. But, I am nervous about how RAGBRAI is going to go. My hope is that I will just do my best, be in the moment, and have some fun with my friends. I need to be okay with myself and my choices and the consequences and just enjoy a week gallivanting around the countryside with my friends. 

And long term, I hope that RAGBRAI will kick off my re-newed "fitness hobby." (My friends have insisted that I need a hobby that doesn't have so much emotional baggage. I think fitness might be it). But, who knows? I always vow to be more fit for the following year's ragby, and yet....

But, the way I've done a lot of the last 8 RAGBRAIs is not working. Something has got to give. I either need to get re-inspired, treat RAGBRAI and my team and myself with the respect they deserve, or I need to consider taking some time off. The nice thing about RAGBY is that it isn't going anywhere. And, I'll have 411 miles to mull it over. 

So, however you do RAGBRAI, little beavers, whether you are on that bus tomorrow, on a different team, or celebrating ragbrai from the comfort of your own far flung distance homes, Happy Ragbrai. I hope the spirit of a week-long goof-fest fueled by Coors Light and cheeseballs brings some laughter, reflection, and inspiration to your hot-ass midsummer. 

xoxoxo, Norm

R18 2 The Roll Out: to Grandmother's House We Go

After my Mini-Ride Out Experience, I spent the next few days cleaning, packing, and getting ready for Ragby. It was very chill. There was definitely some pool time. Thanks Goldie!

She's getting good at this. 

But one thing that can make me unchill is a text from my parents saying, "okay, well we will meet at the high school to do the load up, then we will stop at Grandma's for an hour."

What?!

My grandmother, Dale's mom, lives in Atlantic, and my parents are very dutiful in spending lots of time with her when they visit Iowa. I didn't realize, though, that, without asking or offering any sort of prior warning, they had decided to Shangahi the entire team and make them hang out with my grandma. She's cool and all, but that doesn't seem like something you force people to do. 

The Beaver Skull Staff

So, with some grumbling at my parents, and some whining to my friends, I got a ride to Roosevelt for the Roll Out.

For sacred rituals

We did have some new beavers for the Roll Out, though. My parents were planning on riding their tandem, so they recruited their friends, Matt and Michelle to be our drivers for the week. They are both very nice and very fun, so I was looking forward to them meeting the beavers. Alas, Michelle was called back to Canada for a funeral, so she wouldn't get to join us until Cedar Rapids. 

We also had two friends of Masinga, Nana and her friend Cat Bagger. These gals normally would have ridden with Nana's dad, but he hurt his leg, so they were coming along with us. Despite their names, they were both cute, fun, sassy babes in their twenties. 

The Beavers: old and young, plus all the doggos 

We also had a friend of Kenny's from ISU and MB was joing us for the first time for her first full Ragby. 

RV Squad 

We loaded up, cracked some beers, and headed over the river and through the woods to my Grandmother's house.

Me Off Spotting

In the end, I was glad for the stop at Grandma's. We all had some snacks in the shade, did some nice visiting, and got to use inside bathrooms. Overall, a good time was had by all.

Biana's Throne

Grandma Squad

Before long, we were loading up again and headed to our next stop: Marne! 

R18 Ride Out: Will I Stay or Will I Go Now?

Hello Beavers, and welcome to another Ragbrai Recap. The recap is going to be a bit more low-key this year, but I hope you will enjoy it. 

So, let's chat about the Ride Out. This year, I thought I was going to do the Ride Out. Pochy wanted to do it because it would be her first Ragby as a single lady, and she's never done it before, and she's a crazy bad-ass to boot. 

Okay. I could mentor a little beaver on her first RideOut, if I could talk Steven into joining us. What's a Ride Out without Steven? So, then, I cooked up in my head the Ultimate Woman Power Healing from Dude-Woes Ride Out Extravaganza. Pochy'd be newly out of a relationship. I'd be recovering from my break up, and Steven, well, being married ain't easy folks. 

Just three gals, right across the state of Iowa. What could go wrong? 

I'll tell you what: other humans. 

First, Steven started making some rumblings that the Mayor might want to come along. We remember my Ride Out with the Mayor from the previous year, yes? 

Second, Pochy's sister decided that she'd elope the night before the Roll Out, and she wanted Poch's to be the officiant. She was willing to do the RideOut, then get her mom to pick her up on Friday in Onawa, then drive her to the wedding at midnight, then she'd get up early to do the RollOut with the team.

With those two strikes, and the fact that I don't particularly love the RideOut, I was pretty much out. I barely want to do the Ride Out if conditions are perfect, let alone a struggle bus Ride Out like this one. So, I dipped. 

But not without a plan. 

Steven, as you know, loves a surprise, maybe more than anyone I know. So, if I wasn't going to the whole Ride Out, well, maybe I could do something. So Pochy and I cooked up a plan, and a big batch of Pudding Shots. Pochy would offer to ride out to Perry on the first day, Wednesday, with Steven and the Mayor, that way she'd get the times of departure. 

I would pack the pudding shots on ice on the Mother Trucker and ride out a bit earlier, then hide in the bushes and jump out when they passed me. 

The morning of, I got ready, iced everything down, and loaded the trucker on to the bike rack. I parked back in the neighborhoods on the other side of the highway from the trailhead, so they wouldn't spot my car. Genius. Then, I hit the trail. 

Good morning Waukee!

I wasn't sure how far to stop, but I didn't want to go as far as Dallas Center. The problem was there were no good places to stop. The trail was either too devoid of bushes and trees to hide behind, or the shoulder was too narrow, or it was just rocks. So I kept riding, finally, on the outskirts of DC, I found a little rugged turn off and pulled in. I tucked the MoTro into the grasses and then laid down with my coffee and my water to relax and enjoy the early morning. 

Majestic AF

A couple people rode by, not the Beavers, and then some ladies walked by and gave me a suspicous look, but no one bothered me and I kept my ears open for the sound of beavers. Before long, I heard their chitter chatter. 

"Good morning Beavers," I like to think that I yelled, and Pochy said something like, "Hark, what is this in the bushes?" 

Found em: And Hunky Taylor was there! 

That Pudding Selfie

They pulled over post-haste and we all had a hearty laugh as I distributed the pudding shots. After we enjoyed a 7:15 breakfast of boozey pudding shots, we hopped on our bikes and rode into Dallas Center. I got to ride with Steven, which is always fun.

Secrets....

We tried to stop at the very fun bar in Minburn, but they weren't open yet. So we finished the shots, dumped the trash and headed on to Perry. In Perry, we made a stop at the bike shop, and then had breakfast at the Hotel Pattee. We ran into a group that was doing the ride out from Iowa City. They were drinking, so we liked them.

Onward

After breakfast, the Mayor, Steven, and Pochy saddled up to ride on. Pochy was going to ride more miles with them, but I didn't want the day to turn into a total drunken waste, so I turned around and headed back towards Des Moines. 

I stopped in Dallas Center and had a beer, and watched massive pack of tiny teenage roadies zoom by and then stop for ice cream. Before long, I was loading the trucker back onto my car, and headed back towards Des Moines. Mini-Ride Out complete. 

Pochy, and also Steven and the Mayor, have their own stories of this day, but you'll have to bug them for those.

R18 Expectation Management

Greetings Beavers!

Today, December 1, is the traditional start of the Ragbrai Recap. And, yet, you'll see there is no recap below. So here's what is up:

In the past, I blogged all the way through December, but, I am a teacher. The first weeks of December are mad crazy--I got essays to grade, students to bust for plagiarizing, and finals week.

Trying to blog during the first two weeks of December is really hard. So, I am not going to do it.

But, I am going to blog about Ragbrai 2018. I know I threatened to not, but it turns out Ragbrai 2018 was my happiest Ragby ever, so I want to reflect.

My goal is to start blogging December 15th, but I am not going to make any promises, and I can't promise that there will be a blog every day. Honestly, you bitches don't even read it everyday, right?

So, hang tight! Blogs are coming, just not yet.

Love you beavers!

RAGBRAI Packing List 2018

Hello Beavers! It's once again time for the annual packing list!

We have been very lucky in the last few years to have access to washers and drivers nearly never night, so you probably need less than you think you need. 

This year we are also lucky to welcome Matt and Michelle, our new drivers. Matt is a non-drinker and both are non-riders, so we have high hopes for the dinner pickins this year!

Riding Gear

• Helmet
• Bike shoes 
• Jerseys (3-5) (TB 2018, TB 2017, TB 2016 (the white one), TB 2015 (the map one), TB 2014/3 the Chinese one, and TBIT--if you've got em.)
• Bike shorts and/or bibs (3-5)
• Socks (3-5)
• Sports bras (if you need em)
• Cycling gloves (be sure to wash em, the funk is real)
• Cycling cap (optional)
• Small wallet 
• Koozie 
• Sunglasses 
• Tiny sunscreen and lip balm (sun safety is everyone's responsibility)
• Individual packets of chamois cream (optional)
• Lightweight rain jacket (optional and not that effective, but does help keep you warmer on rainy days)

Bike Stuff 

• Bike (tuned up and clean ideally)
• Spare tubes and/or patch kit (lots of these for Too Much)
• Pump or CO2 pump 
• Water bottles 

Apres Cycling 

• Team Beaver t-shirts or other t-shirt (1-2)
• Shorts (1-2)
• Undies (3-7)
• Non-sports bra (if you need em)
• Lightweight sweater or fleece
• Comfortable shoes (I like Chacos)
• Hat (optional, TB trucker hat)
• Sleeping clothes (that you feel comfortable walking to the kybo wearing)
• Swim suit (optional but nice)
• Towel (I like lightweight pack towels)
• Small bag to transport clothes and toiletries to shower

Camping Gear

• Tent 
• Sleeping pad 
• Sleeping pad or blanket (a cotton sheet is nice too)
• Pillow or stuff sack filled with clothes 
• Flashlight or head lamp 
• Eye mask (or bandanna)
• Ear plugs (trust me on this)

Other Handy Stuff (but optional)

• Zip-loc bag for phone and other stuff to protect from sweat and rain 
• Facial wipes (I like the Burt's Bees cucumber)
• Sharpie 
• Cell phone for photos, voice memos, regular memos
• Cash

The Team Provides (but if you are picky, bring your own)

• Sunscreen 
• Bug spray 
• Some beer 
• Some snacks 
• Some dinners (depending on driver)
• Some chamois cream 
• Ibuprofen 
• Bike pump
• Water for bottle fill ups
• TB Koozies 
• TB Stickers 
• Camp chairs 

R17 99 I Got Nintey-Nine Problems, And this Blog Ain't One

Done and Dusted 

I have been listening to a lot of audio books. There's a moment at the end of the book, just after the stirring conclusion. The narrator pauses for just a second and says, "We hope you've enjoyed  listening to a Random House production of [Book Title]. All rights reserved."

The tone of the narrator's voice shifts just a bit and the reader is pulled out of the trance of the story and transported back to the waking world. It's like a hypnotist's snap: we're awake!

And, so, gentle beaver, "I hope you've enjoyed reading a Team Beaver production of Ragbrai 2017: The Adventures of Team Beaver." 

I am happy to point out the happy coincidence that I am ending this blog on number 99, on March 9th. Some 40 blogs and about a month less than previous years. I am also happy that it is complete before I go on spring break vacation on Monday. Ragbrai 2018 will be my 9th ragbrai as well.

Writing the blog is an experience similar to ragbrai. It takes you so far. So many things have happened since I started writing this year's blog last fall. Lately, I have been thinking a lot about whether or not to continue ragbrai blogging next year. Some of my most dedicated readers are too busy to even read the blog (Goldie! I am looking at you. And maybe even you Steven.) Is this blog relevant anymore? Does anyone care? Aren't I too busy to be spending all this time? I supposed I have 9 months to think about it. 

Beyond blogs, I have to come to terms with losing some people from the team this coming year. Too Much and Bandit will be too busy, with their happy wedded-life adventures to join us. And Steven maybe able to make part of ragbrai; she has a leadership conference conflict. Life, work, family, all starts to creep it. It's only natural. 

It comes at an awkward time. For some unforeseen reasons, my life has gotten far less busy, far less filled with life and family, and so I find myself with more time to devote to bikes and beer and friends, just as my friends are finding less and less. What will become of this blog? This team? Me? I guess we will just have to see. 

There are some happy possibilities to look forward to, of course. The return of Deb and Dale on their tandem bicycle, plus their very fun friends Matt and Michelle as co-drivers and chefs. Pochy wants to do the #RideOut and if we all wish very hard and are very good and the universe smiles on us, the Rangers will join us. (Please Ranger Katie!). 

I made a solemn vow on the Monday of R17 that: 

I WOULD NOT GO ON RAGBRAI THIS YEAR UNLESS I TRAINED. 

And, I can't see myself not going on ragbrai, so I guess I have to train. That will mean a lot more miles on the bike. I am looking forward to that, though, I need to come to grips with the fact that most of that time will be spent solo. 

I hope that training, the Hexathon Challenge, and MS150 will lead to more fitness, and to my jerseys fitting better. I am so grateful that I am the curator of this blog, so I don't have to include many of the highly unflattering photos of yours truly. Yikes! Talk about gut check. 

And, this is as good of a place as any to say thank you to everyone who makes this silly team possible. 

• Thank you to Steven, The Boss, my companion-in-arms for all the stupid things. I am so happy that we got two rideouts in a row. I look forward to more. Mayor: we need to talk. :) 
• Thank you to Masinga for all her hard work. 
• Thank you to Pochy, one of the most put together people who also manages to vodka herself completely apart. 
• Thank you Too Much--I don't know what we will do without you! And to Bandit--same! Please hurry and doctor up so you can fix us, physically and emotionally. 
• Thanks to FOB and MB! Congrats on the new digs! 
• Thanks to our drivers, D$ and Kenny, tent engineers. And Smitty and all the grandparents that helped with kid care. Thanks to Luke for all his help. Sorry we can't manage to make it to a band, ever. And CP. Thanks.
• Thanks to everyone who came along (JK!) and who reads along afterwards too and who houses us and gives us free beer and all silly people we meet along the way. 

When you get back from ragbrai, everyone asks you, "so how was ragbrai?" 

It is a simple question, and most people want the simple answer, "it was fun!" 

But not so simply, how was ragbrai? It's been 99 blogs and seven months, and it is still hard to say. It was fun. And hard. And crazy.

We solidified some friendships: welcome to the beavers Karen! We love you Checkers! We made some new friends: Lars! Tazy! Calico Steve! The Baggers and the Skinny Baggers!

It was an adventure and a week with my dearest friends. And, like usual, it gave the the chance to learn some things about myself. It's not a vacation, or a bike tour, or any of that. It's a spiritual journey. 

Team Beaver 2017

All Rights Reserved. 

R17 98 The Aftermath: The Road Home

Back the Way We Came

I got to ride home in the Captain's big truck. I have to admit, I was so happy to see him. And, I was happy that we had found a good compromise with him and ragbrai participation. And he has a huge truck.

In the back, were Bandit, Too Much, and Pochy. CP navigated past the team buses trying to get out of town on narrow driftless roads and before we could blink, we were in Waukon again. In my memory it was still strewn with the detritus of ragbrai from the night before, the leftovers of a tinker tape parade. 

We stopped at the Casey's in town and bought snacks and beverages and waters and we all peed before the long ride westward. 

Of course, when you drive from Lansing to Waukon, you are going to pass all the towns you just rode through. That's obvious. But there's something of a time machine quality to the ride home from ragbrai. Peeling back the towns and the miles, city by city, county by county, until you are back where you started from and it is as if it never really happened. There's a dream-like quality to it. 

As we drove, we talked about all the adventures that had unfolded over the last week, and we compared notes. Best home stay? Best party? Best Beaver? 

We also made our plans for the following year: next year we should_______. Not knowing then how much things would change, how many dearly beloved people would be out of our ragbrai and perhaps out of our lives. How these moments, these very moments, were the moments. 

There's a timeless to ragbrai. I supposed that comes along with the Iowa-ness of it. Bill Bryson has a line about people who live in Iowa. I'll paraphrase, "they pull off the highway in search of donuts and never leave. Tens years later they have a house, they go to the fair. They are Iowans." 

Like the corn growing or the passing of the school year or ragbrai, it is so very much the same each year, that we get to see those lovely, tiny changes. 

Eventually, we were pulling up outside of Lloyd's house in Clear Lake. It looked so different in the late afternoon sunshine, sober, and without all those crazy characters that had invaded inhabited it just a few nights before. 

We said good-bye to Pochy, and received a rare hug from her. And, we said good-bye to Northern Beavers, too soon. 

And before long, it was just me and CP headed south towards Des Moines. I didn't know it then, but for the last time.