R17 38 Slacker Sunday: Dutch Too Much

Beavers,

It is 19:14 on Sunday evening. I'm slightly tipsy vaccumming and laundrying, and I sat down for a minute, and I had a thought: something is missing.

What could it be?

Oh. Shit.

The blog.

So, this is a truly Slacker Sunday. Here's Too Much's delightful recap of Saturday with Steven adding commentary.

Saturday  Recap with Too Much

And, never fear, I have left the vaccumm in the middle of the living room (you can do that when you live alone). I have poured myself some box wine, and I am going to blog this week!

R17 37 Guest Blog from Pochy

Norman is taking a rest day.  Blog will return soon.

R17 36 Day 1.1 OC to Spencer--Golf Course of the Damned

I don't remember Granville

Did we stop in Granville? I cannot remember for the life of me. Perhaps we skipped it? There's no good pictures of a stop before Paullina, so I am going to pick it up there. 

Paullina was a big mess, and the route wound its way in a serpentine way through the town, up one block, down another, up another block, down another until we emerged on the other side of the town, but we had seen signs for a country club with slip and slide so we were making our way in that direction. 

Somehow, despite my aches and pains, I managed to beat the beavers there, so I called them in, and like a pink squadron they pulled into the Legion Golf and Country Club. 

The Beavers Arrive

The golf course had a good thing going it seemed. Shade, cheap beer, slip and slide, portapotties. It seemed like a great place for an early morning beer and siesta. 

Take us ot the beer. 

We found a spot under a nice tree and all settled in. 

Beaver spot 

Then we did what we do: 

Pochy did the selfie*

Bandit searched for high fat food stuffs

MB fixed aches and pains 

I snuck off to the woods for a refreshing pee and we all chatted and relaxed and enjoyed the shady morning. Cute guys were slip and sliding. The beer was plentiful. All was well in beaver land. 

Then we decided to leave. 

And disaster.

Too Much's first flat of the ride

He looks like he's done this before

See the problem is that we all decided to leave, helmets, gloves, bikes, and then we realize that old Too Much has a flat. We are no longer drinking beer in the shade. We are all just standing around watching. 

Maybe we should send Too Much out to check on his bike before we leave the drinking spots? Just an  idea. Too Much marked the first flat I have ever experienced on ragby, back on his first ride. He also managed to break a spoke too. He just shreds, man! 

After much pumping and sunscreening, we did manage to get back on the road and head towards where ever.

 * Later on FB my mom, the Deb, would see this photo and ask, "where's Normy." Perhaps she didn't recognize me because I was smiling?

R17 35 Day 1: Orange City to Spencer--Back to the Bacon

PDBA: oh man beavers. I worked really hard to get ahead on blogs, so I could get through finals week and the beaver-wedding. I blogged myself all the way up to January 3rd. And now that leading edge I had is gone. No worries, I have only got the beginning of the semester to get through along with crippling depression. Should be a piece of cake...

Anyway, if anyone is ready and willing to chip in, I'd appreciate it.

Day 1 Baby

Day 1 of my 8th ragbrai started with all the normal first day shuffling and confusion. No one is in ragbrai mode, so everyone is fiddle fucking. And that's okay. 

There were a lot of things to do--we had to brand the virgins!

Here little bagger 

And we had to take our team photo.

Looking pretty

And we had to say goodbye to our hosts.

Sorry for all the extra mouths to feed.

And then we had to get on our damn bikes and ride them. Ugh. The saddle of the Mad One felt different, so that was good, I guess. And it was lighter. Though, I was reminded that when you turn around and ride the other way, you ride into the sunrise. 

We said hello to the rest of ragbrai and then we took to the roads, waving, cheering, weaving and bopping out of town. 

We decided to skip Alton because it was only 3 miles down the road, and we knew that they wouldn't have much going on. We rode through and then got back on the road we came in on. 

Before long, I heard coming from the left hand side of the road, "free beer! free beer!" The beaver were stopped in all their pink glory on the side of the road, exactly where the dead pig had laid two days before. I really hoped it was there.

The beavers calling them in.

It wasn't. (Though how a person removes a dead pig, I would hate to imagine). 

We were only 5 miles into our first day and we found free beer. If only this was how the rest of ragby would go.

A very nice lady

The free beer stop was a good regrouper. The beavers were back. Watch out ragby! And then, we were off, in search of breakfast and other adventures.

R17 34 Interim Now We Go to the Expo

Haven't left yet

And then we went down to the Expo. We had to ride our bikes. Ugh. That was horrid. It was hot, the traffic was crazy, but we all managed to get there together and park our bikes in an alley before anyone disappeared. 

Then, everyone disappeared. I walked around with (I believe) Bandit and Masinga. We did some shopping, picked up a few gifts, and checked out what is cool and new in bike apparel. We saw some folks we knew and some people we wanted to avoid:

Danger 

I thought I needed to buy new tires. My Gatorskins were looking pretty beat up, but I had been busy in the summer and hadn't gotten around to it. Actually, the tire with the dollar in it from 2016 was still on the bike. I hadn't had a flat since, but there were gouges and holes, and I didn't want to hold the team up changing flats all week, so, I walked over to Rasmussen's and the mechanics were super nice. I bought the last set of Gatorskins that they had.

Olzen Style 

Then I got in touch with the team and joined them over at the stage where the band was getting ready to play. I ran into a few people I knew and ran some interference for Steven who had gotten in over her head with creepers who wanted stickers. 

Then a very pretty girl came up to me said said hello. 

"Oh, hello," I said. 

"Do you remember me from last year? You guys named me Karen."

I blinked in rapid succession. I had no recollection of any of this. 

"My name is Elyana, but you guys called me Karen." 

"Oh! Karen!," I shouted, pretending I remembered. "How are you doing?" (Better just to go with it in these circumstances. We chatted for a bit and then the band started and they were terrible, and it was hot and Luke wanted Emily to come back to the house, so we all found our way back to the bikes and back to the homestead. 

It wasn't long before we were unrolling our beaver bed rolls and tucking into our sleeping bags. I decided to get some privacy by sleeping in the storage room. I had a new sleeping pad, so I figured I'd be fine. I applied my lotions and potions. Found my sleep mask and shouted a good night to the beavers in the other room. 

And then I was off to another fitful night's sleep before ragbrai. 

Tomorrow, it would all begin!

R17 33 Interim The Beavers Are Coming

Beavers Do Orange City 

We heard the car from the back patio and then some scampering feet. Then, from inside the house, we heard the door bell ring. We walked around the front of the house and there was Grandpa! And he was SOOO excited! He zoomed around the yard and proceeded to pick up every person he met--a very surprised Jerry and Helene included---and swing them around yelling, "I missed my beavers!!!" (He even picked me up. Which is quite a feat. The 'roids are working!). 

Looking back, I don't remember how Grandpa got to Orange City, but soon we were awash in beavers. 

There were beavers arriving in the Team van (borrowed from Smitty). And there were beavers arriving in Luke's truck. There were beavers arriving by bicycle. 

D-$ Borrows Pochy's First Pelt

Soon we were all rushing around the house, making introductions, staking out sleeping territory, and making new friends. There were so many beavers! 

Fits like a Chinese jersey.

After me, and Steven, and the Mayor.

There was Masinga, Pochy, Luke, Too Much, Bandit, and JK, and Grandpa and Kenny. 

There was our new driver--D-Money, cousin of FOB and MB who arrived by bike. 

And there were all sorts of complicated comings and goings. Luke would be leaving in the morning, taking the Mother Trucker and perhaps meeting up with us later in the week. 

Good bye old friend.

We had to get everything into the van, and then the baggers arrived. 

Steven will need to pipe up and tell us the full story of how she and the Mayor met the Bagger Squad, but here is the abbreviated version. 

So, Steven and the Mayor are on Warm Showers, a website that allows cyclists to connect with people who are willing to put them up while they are on bike journeys. (This is what the Mayor wanted us to use on the RideOut.) They had connected with two brother baggers, riding across the country to raise money for Lupus (one of the brother's girlfriend suffers from the disease). They were a bearded and wooly pair from North Carolina (I believe) and when the mentioned a little ride called "ragbrai" which they were thinking of doing, Steven and the Mayor sat them down to explain. 

And then in a gesture of good will and hospitality, they invited them to stay with us at our home stays. 

Which was fine...sort of. Except that negotiations with home stays are tricky. Because people are flakes (remind me to explain the forthcoming "douche bag fee"), we don't know who is coming and how long they are riding until the last minute. And then it changes. Constantly and without reason. All of that is fine, but if you are wondering why the logistics committee is increasingly stressed out and frantic come early July that is why. 

And, some of our home stays are pretty tenuous connections. Helene and Jerry were from the Orange City website. Other people are friends of parent's friends who aren't so sure they want a bunch of crazy bikers coming to stay, but are willing to try...

Then there is of course the roles of home stay liaison (this year Masinga took on that role) and the home stay connection (the person who found us the home stay). And these people have great responsibilities of communication and soothing with our home stays, expressing gratitude, and making sure we aren't coming across as total d-bags. 

All of this is fine...usually. But there can be some tense moments. For example, Helene and Jerry really wanted to cook dinner for everyone. Which was lovely and totally unexpected, but our numbers were constantly in flux, and then the baggers arrived. And the rule of baggers is exponential. If you invite 1 bagger, 4 will show up. And that is what happened. Steven and the Mayor invited their baggers to stay, and they brought two other baggers. 

All of that is fine...sort of, except that Helene was a pretty nervous and contentious hostess and when unexpected people showed up she got upset and worried that we wouldn't have enough food, and then went out and bought more food. The baggers were sweet and polite and in all reality they didn't make an actual impact, but adding numbers at the last minute does make an emotional impact. It stresses out hostesses and our home stay connections and some of the more etiquette conscious beavers (me). 

There are two schools of etiquette thought on ragby. There are the people who say, "meh! It's ragbrai. What's the big deal? It's just another couple people. Who cares?" (You can imagine who fits into this category). 

And then there are the people who are anxious to make a good impression because we live in this state and we may actually need to come back here in 5 to 7 years, and we don't want our team to get a bad reputation, and even though it is ragbrai that is no excuse for rude behavior to people who are volunteering to be kind to us. (You can imagine who fits into this category).

There also seems to be some level of correlation between type one and not living in the state of Iowa or doing any of the home stay logistics, but that requires further research. 

Beaver Hang: FOB in the leather chamois! 

Despite the tension, we all tried to role with the punches and we all settled in on the back patio for food and beers and celebration of our reunitedness. 

This year would turn out to be the year of the Sneaky Beaver! And there were lots of secrets and presents afoot. 

Group Hug! 

One of those was a gift of a Pliny the Elder (best beer in the world) that Steven had found and brought to Iowa to give to Masinga in honor of her graduation. (I insisted that Steven give to to her right away, rather than let it rattle around in a hot van for half a week. That beer is too good to travel).

It was the first of many celebrations and secrets to come! 

R17 32 Interim Rest??? Day (And HNY!)

It's New Years Day baby! And if we did it right at Too Much and Bandit's wedding, we should all be feeling the way I was feeling on our "rest" day last July...ready for some rest! Past Norman (12/11) really) hopes we all had a merry-beaver-time and nobody threw milkweed bombs on the aisle or pulled a Pochy. I am looking forward to a relaxing, "Sunday-funday" esque New Years Day in the Twin Cities. 

And Happy New Year little beavers! I, for one, and ready for a new year and new adventures. The end of 2017 was rough, so I am ready to inaugurate a new one. 

My theme for 2018 is going to be Twenty-Eight-Me-en. That can be either "me"-en. As in focusing on me and what makes old Norman happy, or it can be "mean" and focus on being nasty (hopefully, also in the goal of making me happy). Meanness can be anything from giving zero fucks all the way to hoping I can get several people to "pull a Pochy."* They will be interchangeable, of course, depending on the situation.

Anyway, I look forward to spending lots of time with my beavers and on my bike in 2018! And, I want to wish you all a very happy new year, with lots of joy and laughter in the next 365 days. Love you all. I #20eightmeanIT

Here we are...socializing 

So, there I was on Jerry and Helene's back patio. I could look out across the horizon and see the grain elevators of Alton--we'd be headed back that way tomorrow. I looked down at my Chelada and my magazine and I was ready for some chillaxing. 

But, chillaxing, wouldn't be in Norman's future. Nope. No. No sir-ee. 

First, the Mayor joined me, so we had to chit chat. 

Second, then Jerry joined us. So we all had to chit chat. 

Third, the Snaps and texts were coming in from the Beavers--where is the house? Look at these hot dog legs. Why is this drive taking so long, etc. etc. 

Atta Girl! #SophomoreYear

There were beavers coming from all directions. There were beavers coming from Clear Lake, and there were beavers coming on bikes. There were beaver cars getting stashed all over the northern part of the state. There were beaver secrets in the works....none of this spelled out a relaxing day on the back patio. 

Also, I had some gear wrangling to do. I had to decide what stays and what goes. There was added pressure on us this year because the Deb and the Dale decided that they weren't coming because they had decided to tile their bathroom and hadn't had enough time to train. (Who trains?). That meant we had no Ark. That meant we were driving a mini-van with a cousin of FOB as the driver. That meant, we had to pack light. 

I had already nixed Steven's suggestion, back in June, that we bring 47 folding lawn chairs and 18 coolers, but I was still worried we wouldn't all fit, that it wouldn't all work, that this, year 7, would spell disaster for the beavers!!! 

Bye Bye Bike

Then, I tried to take a nap. 

And then, Grandpa arrived! 

* "Pulling a Pochy" is what we are now calling crying in public. What is that you say? Pochy rarely cries in public, so that name isn't appropriate...A) Fuck off. It's my blog. B) If we call crying in public "Pulling a Pochy" we might get her to cry more, which you all know is the only thing that brings me true joy. Tears. #20eightmean