R15 19 Our First-ish Town of Ragby

We made it! 21 miles! 

And the ride into Kingsley, as far as I can remember, was lovely. More big, rolling hills, gorgeous countryside, the pleasantly loose feeling of a few pre-8am beers. What more could a beaver dream of?

Soon I was rolling into the little town of Kingsley, where I had ridden into during my first ragby, so many years ago, when Lexi's seat was slipping, so a farmer tightened it for her, and then she couldn't get it untightened, even though it was too low, because he was so strong. Ah, memories. 

The team, most of it, was waiting for me outside of Kingsley, and we began the first of many attempts to regroup and reconnect. It would be a challenge, and will probably continue to be a challenge, as we grow as a team, and what we have learned from the last two years is that it takes a while to get our beaver legs under us and figure out one another's pace and eating needs. 

Boop boop boop

While we waiting, I looked around for a place to pee and I spotted a very nice, very not busy grain elevator office building. I rolled over there and asked the farmers in the lot if the place was open. "Sure," they said, "go on in!" Inside I hoped to ask the secretary if I could use the bathroom, but no one was around. I guess it was Sunday, but all the lights and some tvs were on. 

I found my way into the darkened hallway and into a lovely, perfect, glorious clean bathroom. Thank the Lord. I was particularly keen to find an inside bathroom because of the curse of bear season. Yes, you don't know the cruelty or the hardship of ragby until you've experienced a bear-season-ragby. Ugh. 

Sweet bathroom bliss!

Anyway, no one stopped me, yelled at me, or even appeared, so I just waltzed back out.

With no sign of LLL, we decided to send an advance team into the town, and hope that LLL, led by Masinga, who would wait for her would know our beaver ways and find us. And so we went to one of the most friendly of beaver establishments: the golf courses.