R17 58 Day 3.8 Algona to Clear Lake: The Aftermath

There aren't any pictures after the Musky Lounge, and probably for good reason.

I have been procrastinating writing this post. There was a lot of anger and frustration in Clear Lake, but not all of that anger and frustration had anything to do with me. Some of it did, don't worry. What is my role in this blog? Should I just write about my own experience? Or am I the beat reporter of the team, reporting on the events that I witnessed?

I don't know.

With the goal of staying in my own lane, I am just going to write about my experiences in Clear Lake. Perhaps, in the spirit of understanding and reflection, others will chime in and discuss what went down with them.

Ventura to Clear Lake to Shit Mixed to the Fuck House 

I arrived at our homestay in Clear Lake and walked immediately into the pool where I found Too Much and Bandit. I was relieved to see Too Much after his hasty departure from the Muskie Lounge. We swam around for a while and then Steven and the Mayor showed up. The Mayor was shouting and Steven was in tears (a very rare occurrence.) We chatted in the pool for a while.

I was pretty tipsy at this point so my recollections of the workings of other beavers is a bit foggy. As the evening went on, I decided to follow Bandit's lead and sleep outside. I like sleeping outside, unlike some beavers. And, I really don't like sleeping in an open room with a lot of other people. So, I set up my tent.

Then, Steven and I made the executive decision to call Casey's and get some pizzas. We ordered maybe 10 pizzas. When we asked the fella at the gas station to just "give us a mix" of varieties of pizza--well that threw him into a tailspin, "how many vegetable do you want? How many pepperoni?"

Just give us a g-dang mix, Kevin! C'mon. But, we got them ordered, and after some drama with the credit cards, a sober driver delivered pizzas to the house and we all enjoyed them.

The baggers were there. They took up residence in the garage. And, then the Spirit Animals showed up. Luke was in and out. He and Pochy had places to be. The Spirit Animals were having some sort of fight with their driver. He had their belongings, but they couldn't seem to get connected with him, and maybe they were just going to sleep in the bushes? It was unclear. They did show up with a case of beer, propped up on their handlebars, which was cool.

At one point, FOB took all the baggers and Spirit Animals into the middle of the quiet residential street, with a bottle of whiskey, and led everyone in a "spirit circle dedicated to the ghost of John Karas." (Is John Karas dead???). They passed the whiskey around, taking pulls and talking about the spirit of John Karas.

I had one and then absented myself. I was a little out of joint. There was a lot of turmoil happening all around. Pochy was stressed for a lot of reasons, but one of them was because I had invited the Spirit Animals and my plan to shake them at the Muskie didn't work. She was concerned about the added strain and stress on our very nice homestay host. That was my fault.

Also, there were a lot of secrets in the works, that needed to be wrangled from the cars we left in Clear Lake. Steven was working on that, despite her own stress.

And, I am pretty sure that Masinga was still mad at me for the eye rolling.

So, I decided to call Captain Pete. I wanted to talk to him. He was my best friend, and I missed him, and he was outside of all of this. I thought it would be nice to tell him all my stories and get his point of view. He can be very wise. So, I called him, but I must have been still talking in the "beavo does a danco" doggo voice because he said I sounded really whiny. And, also, in the regular world, it was Tuesday 10pm, and I was pretty drunk. All in all, I just annoyed him and he yelled at me. So, even more sad, I hung up the phone and crawled into my tent.

How did such a fun day turn into this morass of emotions?

On Monday, when I was suffering mightily, I made a somber vow, that I would NOT be doing ragbrai again UNLESS I train. Let's be honest. I haven't "trained" for ragbrai since my first ragbrai. My first ragbrai, on a route very similar to this one, I was lean and mean and had ridden almost 500 miles! And it was fun. It was hard at times, and I crashed, and I was scared riding in the rain with all those people, but it was fun. I could deal with all that stuff because I didn't spend every mile awash in negative self talk and pain.

So, my vow is that I am going to train for this year's ragbrai. My goal and my hope is that the training I am going to do, along with all the other work I am going to do, is going to make me a more emotionally buoyant beaver, so that I can be present, and find some joy.

This route, whatever they announce, will be my 9th ragbrai, and I want it to be a good one.