R16 55 Thirsty Thursday Part 2

Leaving the Backpocket stop there’s a pretty serious blank in both the photo and the personal memories. I went to look Unionville on Google Street view and I don’t remember a thing--so maybe we stopped there? Now that I think about it, I kind of vaguely remember it…

Regardless, between Backpocket and Blakesburg there was a gorgeous stretch of Iowa. These big, pillowy, curvy hills, with sweeping views of valleys and farms. Wide stretches of flat between climbs, but still, lots and lots of climbs. You had to earn that kind of pretty.

As we got into Blakesburg though I was just not feeling it. We parked the bikes behind a brick shop, near the Body By Bergman bus (Bergman!) and then went to do our beaver thing--food, beer, fun. After much hunting around, I picked a Turkey Tom and sat on the curb and ate it. Then, somehow we got 2 tables at a restaurant inside and the teenage waitress brought us pitcher after pitcher of water.

Everyone wanted to go the beer ghetto, so I went out there but I just wasn’t feeling it. The ghetto was hot. No shade. And there was a pond in my future. And free beer. Let’s just roll...but the beavers wanted to party. I got a beer, begrudgingly, and hid in the scant shade of a garage and watched the beavers tried to get the dance party going.

Pretty empty to begin with...

And, of course, they did. They found these two handsome topless dudes in their 20s, who they would name Dancing Queen (the curly haired one) and that other guy...these guys loved to party and they loved the beavers! With a critical mass of dancers and the Whiners rolling into the shop, the party was going.

Dancing Queen and Friend

He gets us.

Still grumpy and still not feeling it, I stood on the sidelines, then found a kybo, then stood around pouting some more. And then, I heard it.

Stop.

Look up.

Am I good?

And I did. “Fine!” I said to the universe. Then I marched on to the dance floor. Marched up to the DJ and asked if I could get on the trailer. “Of course,” they said.

Fine! Beaver Gods. I will salute you.

And so we danced.

Caution

I don’t think Steven would have ever left but after a solid dance party time, we did finally get out of there. And head towards Ottumwa.

Bumping

Party Starting Steven

The evening rolling into Ottumwa was glorious. Just gorgeous late afternoon light, much much cooler, and lots of beer in the belly.

I believe we were riding in a beaver line as we rolled out of Ottumwa, and I don’t know how it happened, but somehow, I got off the front and started riding. It was relatively flat so I put it in the big ring and started to play the role of birch branch (that’s what beavers chase instead of carrots) to see how long it would take for them to catch me.

Ride and ride and ride I did. Turning. Riding. Passing a “free beer with $50 plane ride” sign, riding, riding, riding. It was great. Riding fast. Having fun. On my way to a pond.

It wasn’t until the outskirts of Ottumwa that the team caught me. They’d stopped to pee and had a mechanical and ridden in the plane (yes, I’m that slow). But we all wound our way through outer Ottumwa until we found another idyllic Backpocket Stop.

This one even more gorgeous. A sloping front yard. Huge trees. Tons of cyclist and a long view of the riders on bikes and the riders jumping into the pond next door. It was just glorious. But the siren song of our homestay called and we promised we’d be to the salon at 4pm (is that true?).

Happier in the shade.

So we rode into Ottumwa. As we did, it was pretty quiet, but there were kids out on the streets cheering and waving us into town. All of us realized we had pockets full of candy from the night before so we reached into our jerseys and started throwing candy at the kids. They started the freak out and squeal with joy. It was hilarious.

People in cycling clothes in a hair salon

Hello, you've reach Salon Castor, how can I hurt you? 

We handed over Night Boss duties, found the hair salon, then got drinks at the bar next door. While we were in there we found Crazy Eye Jeff, in civilian clothes. With his wife. And a busted arm in a cast. Apparently the mojo of the potion hadn’t protected him from a spill the day before and he was out of comission. A little magic left ragby.

2 cool customers 

After our ill advised drinks, we all loaded our bikes, nervously. Took pictures and then loaded into our new best friend Matt’s truck and the Jeep for the ride to the house. We stopped at Casey’s for something, just in time for me to get a text from El Cap, “can you get me a Chelada.” Sigh. I scurried in and bought 2 and then we drove out to the countryside.

Casey's Stop

And then, beaver heaven...

R16 54 Thirsty Thursday Part 1

Good morning Centerville! We got up extra early because we had a bit of a complex day. Awaiting us were Steven and the Mayor's friends--they had offered to host us since Ottumwa was announced in January. But there was a catch. We'd have to leave our bikes at the family's hair salon, then get a ride from downtown Ottumwa to the house (with a pond and tons of beds and dinner) which was about 6 miles out of town on gravel. 

These plans rarely work. Leaving your bike or any of your gear unattended is never a good idea, but we had done a lot of planning, a lot of prepping, and a lot of discussing with the team. We were going to try it, but we needed to get to town at a relatively early time if we were going to pull it off, hence the early departure. 

It was a bit of a challenge getting out of town. For one, after the Mayor had tinkered with my bike the previous day and evening, poor Kenny knocked it over off the rv and it smashed, deraillieur side down into the gravel. Yikey. 

Virgin Driver

But we tatted up El Cap and FOB added some flare to his steed and we had a promise of a driver meet up in Morovia. 

Ipso facto

If there was a nightmare worse than getting out of Centerville, I don't want to sleep anymore. We were on the main highway out of town. All of ragbrai (and some ragbrai clingers out for the short day) were crammed into a single lane headed north. With massive truck and car traffic on the left side headed our way. And big hills, and lots of people on and off, and fucking lemonade stands. Shit. Show.

But soon we were turning back towards the lake area and winding our way around until we got to the little village of Rathbun. (Correction: in an earlier blog post I called this lake Red Rock. It's not. It's Rathbun). That was a bit of a shit storm as well, with a curve, a down hill, a bridge, then a big uphill, and another curve, with traffic. And a narrow road. Boy was I happy to see a bar and some beavers. 

We got some refreshments. Beer and bloody mary for me and biscuits and gravy for Lu. (This was actually a marriage test for Pochy. He ordered two biscuits and gravy, ate one and then asked her to hold but not eat the other one while he went somewhere [probably watching from the bushes]. Pochy just couldn't resist taking teeny tiny nibbles. It looked so tasty!). While we sat in the gravel we met a guy who started teasing us for drinking--why? Turns out, he never met a drinker before, or at least a ragbrai drinker. 

"Really?!" we all asked as we looked around at the thousands of people streaming behind us. 

Back on the road, we were soon crossing the bridge over Lake Rathbun (a glorious sight). There was a house boat parked in a cove and they were kicking the tunes. Amazing. It was a bit of a rough ride for me. It just felt like my brake was rubbing. But eventually, we found our breakfast RV family and I got all the drinks--iced coffee, beer, gatorade, water, and that kinda helped. 

I think it was about at this time that Koz told us that his wife had found a kitten and wanted to keep it. Koz didn't want to keep it but didn't have a lot of ground to stand on because he was drinking in the morning on a bike trip. Steven suggested he let her keep it if he gets to name it. Bone Titty Fucker was the name we all came up with. BTF still lives with the Koz family to this day. 

After breakfast we rolled into the little town of Morovia and found El Cap and the Deb waiting for us. They had parked the RV on a side street, with great grass and shade, and we unloaded the chairs and had a Busch Light picnic. We had dumped our bikes on the other side of the street, but soon the homeowner was out, riding his lawn mower very quickly and aggressively and close to the bikes. We moved them, and wondered why the aggressive beaver mower was so mad. 

Busch Light Party

He's only happy in the shade. He's only happy when he's constipated....

Beaver convo

El Cap and the Deb had Hy-vee breakfast. They loved it. 

It was so great hanging out with the Ark and our drivers, but soon we were on the road, out of Morovia and into beaver heaven. The Backpocket stop was a little slice of heaven. A huge yard, tons of shade, a fountain, and tons of people. Plus it was sunny but not so hot. We had to have a beaver releaver. 

Team time

Look at all those beautiful beavers!

It was probably good that we had such nice stops because I just went to look for at Unionville to see if I remembered anything about it and nope. Doesn't look familiar, at all. 

I looked at Blakesburg and I think I remember what went down in that town...stay tuned. 

Mystery of the day: FOB yelled at? Was that the trooper?

R16 53 Pinata: A Turning Point

We had arrived! 

Arriving in Centerville was so great! El Cap was there! And my sister, and another puppy! The Ark was parked in the driveway, and we had access to the house for the shower and laundry (as long as we didn’t let the pets out).

The homeowner was one of our hooked-up through ragbrai-people. She was really nice, but she wasn’t around much. She worked all day and then left to go to work at the bar in town all night, so we didn’t see her much. We did see her teenagers making out on the couch as she shuffled through the shower rotation, but whatareyougonnado?

We put the chairs in a circle and started the beer drinking, laundry washing, and relaxing. El Cap had brought some chicken so we had a safety meeting, which was much needed and lovely. And then we kicked back and chilled in the driveway.

In fact, I had a hard time just kicking back and relaxing in the driveway, though, as El Cap insisted that I do. “Relax,” he is always telling me. Have we met? I had to get my tent up, get my shit ready for tomorrow, get my clothes in the laundry, get my water bottles filled and my bike stashed, my tent up, etc. etc. “I’ll take care of it,” he kept saying.

As wonderful as that sentiment was, and don’t get me wrong, having some care on ragby was amazing. It also sent me into a neurotic death spiral--because I can’t really relax until all that stuff is completed. The idea of drinking more than 3 beers before the tent is up and my kit for the next day is out is nerve wracking. I tried, I really did. But I just couldn’t sit still.

Thankfully, we had an activity planned--the pinata! I am not sure who thought of the pinata, but it was brilliant! We need a place to vent our beaver stress during the week, and the RV confessional is just not enough. We needed a mid-week venting. So, a pinata, filled with candy and mini-booze and chamois creme was the answer.

Pinata time!

Big props to Pochs for her tireless efforts to put this together. It became part of the team expenses which resulted in some grumbling from the Mayor, but in the end, it was all worth it.

New team tradition

We took the pinata into the back yard and tied it to a tree branch. Then we took the virgins in order of youngest to oldest and had them start battling alway with the pinata. It was hilarious! And it took about 3 virgins before the blue donkey gave way and we had a stash of candy and mini-boozes for the next day.

Then we just drank a bunch of beer. And maybe some whiskey! And hung out in the yard. It was pretty great. At one point, the angry beaver commenter from Sunday night took me aside and we had a moment of understanding. You know, I think you have to live it to get it, and it maybe just took a bit of living to see how hard it is to pull this whole thing off, and assume positive intentions. That was nice.

I think Centerville was a bit of a turning point in a lot of ways. The pinata brought us together as a team, and for fun, but it really seemed like we started to get into our groove, feel our oats, and we were more than halfway across.

For the rest of the evening we watched people pull in and camp, and then around dusk we headed to bed. It had been a pretty alright ragbrai day.

Mystery from the Ragbrai Notes: there is list of notes we took in the RV and most of them I know what they refer to, even if I don’t remember the experience, but some of them are mysteries, so I am going to post them here.

Mystery 1 Kenny’s Eye Infection--when did that happen?

R16 52 A Hazy Wednesday Afternoon Under the Blue Moon

 

All the beavers reconvened at the Backpocket stop just before Bethlehem, which is a good thing because as we would discover, there were a lot of towns along the route with not much in them. 

Backpocket was great. This is where I embraced the hot beef Sunday. There was plenty of beer. There was a sad guitarist singing in the shade. And the beavers had a bit of a quiet stop. Lots of sleepy beavers, trying to stay in the shade. 

Beaver snooze 

Steven and her Beaver Buddy

No shirt. No sitting. No Service. 

Make Beaver Great Again

Biscuit Crotch. We'd all come to see a lot of that. 

Half hearted power pose. 

Reclined.

I got a message from El Cap. He and my sister were in Chariton, having a bloody mary. He was having a good day co-piloting with my sister en-route to Centerville. 

And we ran into some friends. Lance? Am I remembering this correctly. Pochy and I were talking about this the other night (present). I feel like I was drunk for most of ragbrai, because my memory is so hazy, but I wasn't. It was impossible to get drunk. Way too much riding and way too little shenanigans. 

Maybe I spoke too soon. Crazy Eye Jeff arrived, with his potions in tow! All the beavers crowded around for today's flavor: eye of newt and acai berry. 

Maybe this is why my memory is hazy. 

Whiner Fluid 

Then, we had to ride more bikes. There wasn't much water at this stop, so some beavers were on the hunt for it, and we rolled on. 

So, then we rode more bikes. Through Bethleham (really just a water tower). 

Then we turned north and rode into Confidence (two houses on a corner) and had a bit of a beaver reconvener. There was some disagreement at this spot, but damed if I remember it. 

Then we had a long stretch towards the Karras Loop turn off. I rode with Masinga for a bit and we spotted a lemonade stand. She yelled across the yard and asked if they had dirty lemonade. They said they we could make it ourselves, so, obviously, we didn't stop. 

Steven was waiting for me at the corner, and she had that look in her eye. Apparently there was an off route party just down this huge hill. Did we want to go? 

I was torn. I have missed off route parties before, to my shame and regret, but...I didn;t want to ride down a massive hill only to find some hell hole beer ghetto while my hunky sailor was waiting in Centerville. I asked a guy riding up the hill if it was worth it and he said, "meh." 

No was the verdict. On into the Lake Red Rock complex. Down and up hills, around corners, over bridges, and finally up this massive hill towards a cell tower. Centerville Day might have been the day I started feeling my oats because I was climbing, climbing, and I passed a few beavers on the hill. Boom! 

We turned and were ready to zoom down a flat stretch. I put it in the big ring and started to haul, only to discover, errrrrr......free beer! Team Good Beer was set up along the side of the road. Beer and beavers and a Nada spotting. 

Back on the road, now from a stop in the big ring, ugh, and onward. We turned again, at a village, nothing there, and were soon getting close to Centerville. We were just about to turn onto Highway 2 and head into town when we saw, "The Velvet Moon" (may not be the actual name.). 

she did try to get in this running truck.

"Norman," Steven said. "We have to stop."

Jello shots coming up!

Jello Shot Tray

The Man in the Moon was an old timey supper club complex, and so, yes, we did stop. Inside we ran into some crazy young guys who were like, "you guys go to have jello shots!" And so, we did. Too Much bought a flat of them and we hung out on the shag carpet, on the outskirts of town. Steven mocking me the whole time for looking like I was eager to get into town, for maybe the first time ever. 

Where did they find this llama? I have no idea!

A small group of us (Steven, Mayor, Pochy, Bandit, Too Much and me--was there anyone else), entered Centerville as a group and found a small road we thought we should turn off on. Steven and Too Much stopped, had a quick conversation, and then there was a peaceful hand off of the Road Boss to Night Boss power. The rest of us talked about spaghetti versus lasagna. (Pro-tip: don't try to help the direction people. Too many beavers in a dam makes a furry, stinky, lost mess). 

Night Boss in control and maps consulted, we rode into Centerville, skipped the downtown and heading towards the homestay. It was a bit out of town and a bit of a challenge, but we managed, thanks to so many great contributions from beavers mapping, Beaver Tale making, and leading. 

And there was the RV! Complete with a new dog (Dutch), a new boyfriend (El Cap), and a pinata! Home sweet home for the night. 

R16 51 What Does the Fox Say?

Hump Day

The morning, in Leon, was bittersweet. Connie, our very sweet host, was having a birthday. But on her birthday, she had to drive to another town to go to the visitation of a friend who had just passed away from cancer. I chatted with her about it in the kitchen in the morning, eating some breakfast and coffee that she had prepared for us, and I started to tear up.

She told me about her friend. This woman who had been in her life for so long, they were so close, and she had battled with cancer for a long time. And today, on her own birthday, Connie had to go and say goodbye. I am tearing up now writing this...

But the beavers rallied before we left, and went inside to sing her happy birthday. We thanked her for all her kindness and hospitality and then hit the road.

The route was town heavy, 10 towns!, and there was a hunk at the other end of it. Let's roll!

I don't remember much heading into Garden Grove. I think I dropped my chain. And my gearing was a bit wonky, so I asked the Mayor to take a look. Other than that, It was a very run down town, that had once been glorious, it was clear, but now was lost at the end of the world. They did have a fairly efficient biscuits and gravy meal line going on in the bar, so we hit that pretty hard, our own sweaty biscuits taking up residence in the laminate booths. Good bloody marys too.

Some genius was trying to sell a huge mansion on the main street. Very Gray Gardens and they had it open for cyclists to tromp through and check it out. I tried to convince the team that we could just buy it and live here, but to no avail.

Look at that teeny tiny railing

Or that very tall man!

So, on we rode towards Humeston, the Meat Town, where the Deb promised to meet us. Again, I don't really remember much of the ride between GG and Humeston, except that the landscape was getting kinder--more rolling, less heat, more green grass, as we left the Rocky Mountain rain shadow. Nice day.

Deb broke her regular glasses, so she was rocking the sunglasses at night. 

Beavers at the Ark

RV Ghetto friends. Bianca kept leaving...

It took a bit of doing to find our way to the RV ghetto at the fair grounds on the outside of town, but the Deb had the flag (a genius bit of beaver technology up) and she and Bianca had been making friends with all the other drivers around them. We pulled out the chairs. Pulled out the beers and the snacks and had a bit of a beaver party. Huzzah!

Beer + Coffee

Me enjoying said beer. 

Too soon we were leaving Humeston, but we found a sneaky way out of town and were on the road heading towards a Backpocket stop near Bethlehem, I think. As we were rolling along, through a gorgeous stretch of landscape, I looked over at a man playing with a dog in his front yard, teasing it with a stick to make it jump, while he was watching the riders roll through.

But wait. I took a second look. That's not a dog. That's a fox! The guy was playing with a baby fox!

I honestly don't have any recall of the towns of Cambria, Millerton or New York. I think we blew through a couple of them as they were tiny villages. We were rolling through one, though, as a big team. Double pace line, music pumping, beavers rolling in our new jerseys. Amazing.

And eventually, we found more beer. Which makes us happy. More on that next time.

R16 50 Checkual Healing Baby

PDBA: How about that 2017 route, eh? We had a great time at the route announcement party. I think. My mind was a little cloudy from the ayahuasca pudding shots that Pochy made for the pre-party, but yowza! Third easiest route in history, and a gorgeous party of the state! I mean, Orange City is in a dry county and Lansing is hilly AF, but still!

Steven and I were chatting about it the other day and we mentioned feeling kind of bad. There were virgin beavers that came along last year, that may never return, and it was rough. If only we had had a building year this year.

Anyway, plans are afoot, or awheel, so start asking your cousin's cousin if we can crash in their barns, or whatever. We are looking for housing, and maybe a new driver! Yes, the Deb might ride!

Almost made it. 

The ride to the last Backpocket stop was a bit nuts. All of ragbrai was there and there was quite a lot of traffic, but the stop was at the top of a glorious hill and it had been a pretty nice day, overall. Everyone who was anyone was at the BP so we settled in for some grass and some beer time in a lovely farm yard in the middle of nowhere. Lovely. 

FOB Cougar Bait in Residence Kills it at Flippy Cup

But soon beavers wanted to peel off. Leon was just down the road and they wanted to get there! (I have been to Leon, so I knew that there was no "there" to actually get to) so we wished them a good bye and said we would see them soon, and Steven, Pochs, the Mayor and I got another beer. 

This is not a picture of FOB. Look at the guy behind him. Oh ragby. 

We had a great heart-to-heart in the grass, and great beer, and as the tent was packing up, we peed all together in the bushes. Well, the Mayor went to pee elsewhere. As we were going to get our bikes we heard him shout, "beavers! free beer!" 

It was Team Checker! Those lucky ducks had scored a camp site at the Backpocket stop and were unloading their bus (don't mind the smear of injured cyclist along the side there). Well we couldn't leave! Our friends! We introduced Pochys and Steven to the Checker's other mayor and her husband and asked about Damn Daniel. Well, we called him. 

"Daniel, I have a young lady here who would like to speak with you..."

(Sidenote: we saw Damn Daniel at the RRAP on Saturday. Holy hell that guy is cuter than I remembered. Watch out DD. The beavers are on your trail). 

I can't recreate in this blog the kind of silly and inconsequential chit chat/drinking that goes on when you find your friends on ragbrai and are enjoying the afternoon so completely, but here we were! A bit of ragby magic descended on us. 

Mayoral Love!

Pochy got a bit tipsy at this, our fourth or fifth beer of the afternoon, spot. She's a small person! But, I think she needed it. It had been a rough few days for all of us, Pochs included, and I think she needed a bit of Checkual healing. 

Our new (slightly dangerous) friends!

But there was the small problem. We still had to ride 1.8 miles into Leon. And we had to keep Pochs on the road. So we said goodbye to the Checkers and headed off. I rode next to Pochy, on the car side, and Steven rode in front of her, telling her to follow her wheel. And we did pretty well! Just a minor curb hop near the homestay, but soon we found the beaver arch and were reunited with our beavers. 

Inside Masinga was typing away on a test, and there were a lot of cats. I got in the shower line. Then set up my tent (I like cats, but not that much) in the grass, and then wandered into the RV to find some dinner. I think this was meatloaf night, and we have to congratulate the Deb on having a second bonus meatloaf! (What are we going to do if she rides?!). 

On our list of reminders there were three notes about Deb making enough food, and at least 2 about the second secret meatloaf. 

While I was hanging out, and eating, and drunkenly futzing with my gear, I got a message from El Cap. He sent me his location, via iPhone. He was on I-35. Okay. Cool. That runs all the way from Duluth to Texas. A cool trick that we have used before, but on ragbrai there is no phone service. Try as I might, I couldn't get the location to load enough to show me where he was on the road. His plan had been to come down on Thursday, so I figured he was breaking up the journey in the cities or his parents house in Lake City. 

Nope. He was Ankeny, and headed towards the #CITS. Hurray! I would get to see him a day earlier than expected! I hadn't seen him in nearly two weeks. And after a bit of emotional bruising over the week, I was very much looking forward to being with someone exclusively on my side. 

I drifted off to sleep that night, under the stars, happily looking forward to the day ahead. We were halfway across the state-ish. El Cap would be there soon. I was ready for a booze snooze. Good night moon! Good night beavers! Tuesday, out!