R16 68 That Good Good Prickly Taste of Beer

Saturday in the park

I think it is safe to say that by the time Saturday rolled around, the beavers were rocked. We'd experience the highs and lows of a wild Friday, of a massively hot and hilly week. We'd had physical crashes, emotional crashes, and we'd learned that the Bandit could slap whipped cream into her mouth. 

Last morning beavers!

We just had one little teeny tiny day to get through. All we had to do was get our Backpocket t-shirts and survive all the way to Muscatine where the RV full of beer and cotton clothing awaited us. Usually Saturday gives me the last-day-of-summer-camp blues, but this year I was ready to be done. Not happy, but ready. 

Thankfully we had a gorgeous morning of riding and the hills were starting to feel familiar. I don't really much until we got to the Backpocket stop, but we must have stopped at the breakfast sandwich stop because here's a cute picture of LB and Pochs. 

Cute!

I do remember getting to Backpocket was a bit of a chore, because there was a hard right at the top of a hill. And I think there was an accident. And there were cars and trucks and tons of riders on both sides of the road. Hot mess. But we ditched the bikes and made our way to the beer and the t-shirt claimery. 

Masinga, our beaver mom, did me a solid and punched all my punches when she punched hers and was responsible for my beer-punch card, so that I could get the t-shirt this year. After my crushing denial last year, I would have been heart broken to have fucked it up again. Thanks Masinga. 

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As we were leaving, we bumped into some cyclists, and I guess we had formed a bit of a reputation, because a guy ran up to Steven and asked for our patented stickering, which she was happy to provide. 

Step 1 Assess the Canvas

Step 2 Apply Sticker

Step 3 Remind the victim that they asked for it

Then, somehow (does anyone remember?) we started talking to this crazy old bagger. He was bearded and wearing a kilt and he also requested a sticker (for his bike not his ass), and he offered to trade us a beer for it. Uh, of course, bagger. 

 

But why?

Then the beer he pulled out of this bagger bag was a Michelob Ultra Cactus Lime...in a glass bottle.  If there was a weirder selection of beer to pull from that bag, I don't know what it might be. And once again, I am reminded that while I may be a touring cyclist, I will never understand the mind of a bagger. 

Got that Mic Ultra Cactus Face

Normie taking one for the team

Full of craft and not-so-craft beer, we got on our bikes and made the short journey into Columbus Junction--a cute town, with a swinging bridge in a shady valley, and a taller road bridge that crosses main street. We ditched the bikes and did a bit of a beaver scatter. Too Much and Bandit had to stand in line for another wheel issue (Too Much and those wheels!). Steven and I went to look for tacos and bloody marys and eventually we reconvened in a bar on main street. 

Little did I know that was the last I would see of my team for most of the rest of the day.