R15 134 And, That's It, That's Everything

We rode that. 

I think I'm done beavers. I think I am officially blogged out. 

And, I've been thinking about an appropriately reflective and thoughtful conclusion to this year's ragbrai and not much is forthcoming. 

Honestly, number 6 was a bit of a strange one. 

For one thing, our team has grown so much! On my first ragby it was just me, the Mayor, Steven, and an embryo. And today, the colony is huge and vibrant. Back then, I used to wear sleeveless jerseys. (I know, right?), and I was fit as a fiddle and didn't even know it. 

For another thing, this was my first ragbrai as a single-ish lady. The Tiger and I had split up the previous October and I was just beginning to build my new relationship with El Capitan, so that was different. Not necessarily because of the singleness of it, but because I had gotten so used to being alone (and sometimes lonely) that our big, beautiful group of beavers kind of overwhelmed me. 

It's not a bad thing. 

So, what have I learned? 

Well, for one, never lend your jerseys to anyone. In fact, if someone asks you for help with bike stuff, picking out a bike, getting into biking, etc, just tell them to fuck off and buy their own shit. Because honestly, I am not sure if there is a bigger betrayal than to borrow a beaver's pelt and not return it. 

For two, I learned, that the best conditions for riding bikes and being in pools are the same, but if I want to be a happier beaver, I need to spend more time in the saddle and less drinking beer at Goldie's pool. In fact, I should probably start riding my bike now-ish. 

For three, well, I learned that I am a lucky gal. I can't believe I have so many smart, funny, strange, crazy, awesome friends who like to drink beer and ride bikes as much as I do. The Team Beaver road show can be a bit of a shit show, but it is our shit show. 

For four, and perhaps I haven't learned this yet, I think I need to step more into my role as Chief Beaver in Charge. I didn't realize my glue-like role on the team. Steven told me about it, but I have a tendency to look at ragbrai as, "I did all of this planning to get this team organized, now I just want to chill and party." And I might need to recognize that I have a leadership role, whether I like it or not, and I shouldn't shirk that role.  

But that's about it. I didn't have any magical epiphanies this year. I see it more as a growing year for the team. 

And, now? 

Dear Beaver-in-the-Sky, I am glad to be done writing this blog. It wasn't even as bad as I made it out to be, but still. What a load off. 

And I am recognizing that my mindset is still on last year because I have been blogging. When beavers have questions about jerseys, or stickers, or coozies, I haven't had good answers because I haven't been thinking about it. 

So, I am eager to reorient my thinking, my dreaming, my goals, and my wheels towards the future. 

Ragby is a magical and stupid. Ragbrai is both mystical and viseral. It is both a challenge and a delight, and I can't wait to do it again. 

I'll see you all in Glenwood! 

And, in the immortal words of Matt Bellassai, "That's it, that's everything." 

R15 133 Back to the Stacks

In the morning, when the sun began to bake us to an oblivion, we headed back to the Library Cafe for an enormous breakfast of burritos, coffee, and beer. We needed to taper off of our ragbrai-cuisine and the Library is the perfect spot to get all your caloric needs. 

Smothered goodness

The Tiger came and joined us. 

Beer goodness. 

We told some tales of our adventure and discussed more of what we had learned. To be honest the conversation got pretty Wheelmeny, but that's fine.

Later, I bid goodbye to Too Much, as he had to return to the frozen north country from whence he came, but he sent me a picture later to document the abuse ragby had inflicted on his poor skin. 

The other Minnesotans won't recognize him. 

I was a bit worse for wear myself. I was sleepy and sore and ready for a vacation. Oh, wait, that was a vacation.

The fate of my manicure

And after a long Sunday afternoon nap, it was time to get cleaned up, organized, and unpacked. The reintegration back to social norms is always challenging. 

Some of us struggle more than others.

R15 132 The Last Slacker Sunday

I honestly am having a hard time thinking of what to write for my last Slacker Sunday.

So, I'll do some superlatives. 

Best Moment: Day 1 Awesomeness tattoo application. 

Runner up: funeral free beer. 

Worst Moment: Day 3 Yelling, crying, getting lost, then more yelling in Eldora

Weirdest Moment: Seeing that guy's penis on the first day. 

Best Ragby Addition: Safety meetings.

Runner up: meat loaf sandwiches 

Worst Ragby Addition: Parents who are ragby-sophomores so they are super sassy and think they can boss me around. 

Best Overnight: Glorious, got-my-own-room Cedar Falls

Worst Overnight: meh, they were all pretty good. I guess Eldora. 

Best quote from a non-beaver/tandem rider: "I need a towel and a new husband."

What are your superlative moments, beavers? 

R15 131 There's Only One Way to Beat the Post-Ragby Blues

Well, you know how me and Too Much do.

We had a bunch of chicken, called an Uber, and sneaked into Goldie's pool. 

Okay, we didn't sneak. We called and asked if we could go for a swim and she said fine, but she and Perfect Fit were out for the evening, so we couldn't go inside. 

That's okay, we were used to using the great out doors for our #1 needs. 

The pool was spectacular after our long ride. And, we drank beers and floated around until the stars came out, and we reflected, deeply and profoundly, on all that had transpired over the last week. 

None of which, I can remember. 

But trust me, it was deep. 

Then, we got another Uber, headed back to the #CITS, and had a long and well-earned beaver snooze. 

Good night ragby! 

R15 130 Guest Blog, Pochy: The Aftermath: If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join Em

Pochy weighs in on her own fate in her final, I imagine, guest blog. When I got this blog, I was thinking she'd be writing from her point of view--i.e. if you can't beat your spouse at their unragby anger, then you would have to join them, at home? Er. That doesn't make sense. 

No, that's not where she took it. Enjoy! And good recruitment. 

I don't remember everything that was said between us, being champagne-drunk can do that to my memory, but the big fight of 2015 started the moment we left Norman and Too Much at the CITS.  In hindsight, I shouldn't have tried to create a champagne-shield before this one, I would have been much more articulate and probably less emotional if I had entered into this fight sober. 

I won't get into the dirty details, but the gist of it is this: Ragbrai is fun, and sometimes when your spouse goes on ragbrai without you, you can feel left out and sad. 

For. Ev. Er.

​

I guess I did a pretty good job of making it clear that I plan to participate in ragbrai every year for the rest of my life, because I kid you not, less than a week after I arrived home, Luke was chatting it up with Dave at Bike World, and bought himself a new bike.  

R15 129 Taco Time

Soon enough we were back in the DSM metro, sorting our piles of belongings in a Wal-Mart parking lot, and preparing to head to our respective homes.

Too Much was planning to spend the night at the Oven in the Sky, and Luke had very graciously offered to drive us and our bikes first to Tasty Tacos and then to the #OitS, which was great because we didn't have another method of getting home. 

We said good-bye to those who would not be joining us for the ceremonial goodbye tacos and loaded up. 

The mood in the car was, well, a bit frosty. Pochy was drunk. Like drunkety-drunk. She killed about 6oz of champagne in the Ark and you know what that does to her. And, Luke, her beloved husband, was, shall we say, not amused.

I've definitely written about the clash of non-ragbrai loved ones meeting up with ragbraiers immediately post ragbrai. The Non-Ragbrai-ers are happy to see their loved ones home, but they didn't get to spend a week having fun and day drinking and bike riding. They had to like work and stuff.

And I have to imagine that when you are not on the ragby, stories about the various shenanigans and inside jokes are just not as funny. So, I get it. 

Too Much and I mauled our tacos as politely as we could and tried to be supportive and quiet. And, then we said goodbye to another round of beavers. Steven and the Mayor were off to find their forgotten offspring and see the families, and the rest of the beavers ate and dispersed. 

Luke unloaded our bikes and gear from the truck and left us at the #OitS and we waved goodbye to Pochy, knowing the fate that awaited her. 

And, once again, like we had been just 7 short days before, it was just me, Too Much, and a steaming hot apartment. 

What to do? What to do? 

R15 128 The Fate of Pochy, Part 3: Nappy Time

And then, it was time for all little beavers to take a little beaver booze snooze. 

First, Masinga retired to the bed in the back of the Ark. 

Skin belt snooze! 

And Pochy found a comfy stop on the couch with Mama and Daddy Beavers.

Happy Family 

But somehow she managed to get the whole couch to herself.

That is a tired beaver.

 And Steven had to retreat to the table.

zzzz

But it wasn't long before we were pulling into DSM and getting things sorted for the ride to our homes. And that is the real goodbye. 

Well, sort of.

R15 127 The Fate of Pochy Part 2: Bargaining

We continue Pochy's magical mystery tour and we entered the bargaining phase of return to the Des Moines metro area.

I am not sure what she is trying to convince LLL to do, but Pochy looks way more amused than LLL. 

So much suspicion.

Then, from across the Ark, she tried to talk Too Much into something.

Oh golly!

When this tactic didn't work, she went in for a more in-depth discussion.

Listen, lady.

Surfing! 

Hang 10!

After her conversation with Too Much, she moves on to a thoughtful conversation with the Mayor. 

See, thoughtful.

 But her decline into bus ride home hot mess status could not be hindered.

The slump. 

R15 126 The Fate of Pochy Part 1

And now dear readers, it is time for the beavers to journey home. It has been a long standing tradition, dating back to this teams earliest days of Steven and the Mayor with Bike World, that getting drunk on the bus home is both desired and required.

I have schelpped many a 12-back in my jersey back to the Bike World charter in order to get my drink on on the way home. And, I have been very drunk on the ride home. I believe 2014, the year I discovered vodka, was the biggest disgrace I have managed to muster.

And since I had done such a spectacular job getting wasted on the ride to ragbrai, I decided to slow my roll for the ride home.

But one little beaver, a new beaver, was not ready to slow her roll for the ride home. Oh, no, she was ready to roll, and roll deep. And so through the next week, I will be presenting a multi-blog series on the fate of Pochy. She webbled. She wobbled. Pretty sure she had to lay down.

If this isn't what ragby is all about, I don't know what is. 

Now, the last we saw of Pochy, she was rocking the bibs with no jersey and was calling 'em in for the last slip and side.

She's got a commitment to fun, people. 

Pochy had never ridden the Ark home, and she was looking forward to the experience. Also, there may have been a bit of marital frustration brewing on the home front and a little champagne shield might have been in order.

She started the roll-home with a big glass of champagne and demonstrating the Wobble. 

Here's what the Wobble is supposed to look like: 

And here's Pochy's version. 

All the Shorties in the Ark! 

Too Much provided musical and moral support 

I think this is the "back it up part" 

And here's the Wobble. 

You have to give her credit. Once she gets a thing in her mind, like being the best wobbler on the team, she goes all. the. way.

Masinga, meanwhile, was not feeling it. 

From the table, Masinga, already over the Wobble-Baby was casting some serious shade.

Like, classic shade. 

And, with that, we pulled on to Interstate 80, westbound and down.

R15 125 Slacker Sunday: Before and After

Happy Slacker Sunday beavers! Before we get into the magic of the bus ride home, I thought we could spend this Sunday reflecting on how far we had come.

Before:

Before!

After:

After!

We rode 462 miles.

Climbed 15,948 in elevation.

Drank countless beers.

Flatted a few tires, mostly Stevens.

Survived a few beaver brawls.

Indoctrinated 2 new beavers.

Continued educating 4 sophomore beavers.

Got seriously lost only twice.

Both slipped and slidded.

Got tanned. Got sweaty. Got sad. Got happy.

Learned to wobble.

Learned to Viking.

We Powered Posed, and #MCMBW, and got tattooed.

The quality of sunglasses went down, but but the quality of friendship has gone up.

I love you beavers! This is why we do it. xoxoxo

Only 110 days to go!

R15 124 Up and Down into Davenport

And so onward we rode into Davenport. Because of the Bix7 or whatever the hell it is, that silly running race, ragby always has to take a funny way into Davenport. No glorious downtown parades for us. Instead ragby follows the back roads, hot black asphalt, trailers, and spooky woods, that look like they belong in northern Mississippi. 

The hills are punchy and steep and everyone is a little punch drunk and read to be done, but we managed to fight our way through the crowds and onto the main road, paved, that went into town. 

I was riding with Masinga, but we didn't see many of the rest of the team, and we weren't too far down the road when we saw it. Free Beer. Coming in hot. We pulled over. 

The family was running a little bbq sandwich stand out front and they had "free beer" (for donation) in the back, so we marched our selves back there, got a beer, and I think Masinga got a sandwich or some chips, then we stood on the side of the road and called 'em in, both trying to get other riders to stop and also looking for the rest of the team. 

Eventually, though, our beer were drunk and it was time to roll, so we hopped back on the bikes and enjoyed the long, smooth decent into D-town. We whizzed past industrial parks and warehouses and soon we spotted the Mayor on the side of the road, with Too Much (?), cheering and welcoming people to D-Town. 

We gathered up a small posse and continued on into D-town. I think we made one pit stop on the side of the road for peeing? Another Steven flat? I don't remember, but I do remember standing on the weedy side of the road with a group of beavers. Maybe we were getting intell about the Deb's location...

We took a left turn, followed a rough road into another industrial park, and found the Deb, and the Dale, and LLL, all waiting for us. The AC in the RV was blasting and we were done with the riding portion of ragby.

Whoo-hoo!

We snapped a team photo, quickly, before everyone changed out of their jerseys.

Well done beavers!

Look at those happy beavers!

Now all I had to do was put on some cut offs and try not to get offensively wasted on the ride home. I would leave that task to another...heh heh heh.

R15 123.2 Just Kidding, Here's Some Slip and Slide Action

Boo! Grotcha! Arpril Fools, Ya Dingus!

I bet you thought I had forgotten to post. Ha! Never (okay mostly never). 

We are in D-Town for all intents and purposes 

After Stevens flat (?) or lost chain (?) we turned the corner and there was a yard with an amazing slip-n-slide, and it was the last slip and slide of our senior year, so we had to stop! And they had free beer.

The beavers called them in, drank their beers, and made some friends.

Here's a rando photo of this guy. 

Because beavers are aquatic mammals, they killed the s-n-s! Behold:

And then, the crowd grew quiet, because the legend himself stepped up to the slide. The Mayor was going to slip that slide, like it had never been slipped: 

Oh yes, little beavers, ragby miracles really do come true. 

After slipping and sliding, we hung out, drank our beers, and contemplated the hot, asphalty, and very sad soon to be conclusion of our ride. I think we lingered extra long knowing this was nearly the end. 

Damp beavers! 

R15 123 An Announcement

Beavers,

I have an important announcement today.

I am very sorry to have to do this, but I have decided to suspend this blog. It is just too much, and not in the good way.

We are already on to blog #123 with many, many blogs still to go, and I just can't do it anymore.

I have classes that are wrapping up the semester, I have a dog that wants walked, I have bikes that haven't been read. Something has to give.

I have given it all I've got for the year. I am sorry, but you are going to have to just accept, "and they all lived happily ever after" for a conclusion to the ragbrai 2015 recap.

Sincerely,
CBiC,
Norm