R15 16 A New Idea...

Hey-o Beavers -- it is Steven again. I need to do a bit of disclaiming about some proclamations that I made on the night before RAGBRAI. In fact, there **may** be an underlying theme to all of RAGBRAI this year: my proclamations. Some may call them tantrums...or drunken hissy fits...or bossy statements. I choose "proclamations." And this is Normie's blog -- so, obviously, I can call it whatever I want. Like a Boss.

Aaaaanyway, as we were hanging out in the living room at our amazing homestay, we chit chatted about our plans for the week. We were mentoring LindaLindaListen by showing her the actual Linda, Linda, Listen! video, reading excerpts from the Rider's Guide, and talking about the way we roll.

I decided to float an idea to Tad and Normie (maybe others were there?). I flirted with this idea during the recap last year when I guest blogged from my phone to keep the streak going. I never actually followed up with an explanation, though.

Here is what it boils down to -- I thought we drank too much on the road in 2014. We were constantly racing the clock...my muscles were constantly warming up and cooling way down...and it felt like we never truly got to relax an enjoy in any town because we were spending too much time in every town. I floated this idea to Normie and Tad.

Tad looked at me skeptically, but was sort of intrigued. Dramatic re-enactment.

I continued to explain that last year was his first year and he didn't know any better. I went on to further substantiate my claim by pointing out that we had never drank beer in every town before last year. Still skepticism.

I then dropped the bomb -- we should ride to get some miles in and only start drinking after we reached the halfway point. It was as if I had ripped Tad's heart out and Normie just shook her head in disbelief. There weren't totally on board, but I could tell that some of my reasoning resonated a teeny tiny bit with them. I remember thinking, "that's okay, tomorrow I will reiterate my thinking and convince everybody that we can get some miles in, drink, and really get to relax in the last few towns."

Little did I know what was in store for me the next day...

R15 15 Time to Ride the Bikes

Day 1 was a doozy

Soon, all the beavers were stirring, slapping on spandex, loading their pockets, and finding early morning snacks. 

Poor Pochs.

I made some coffee and guzzled it as quickly as I could, packed up my gear, and headed outside for sunscreening and picture taking.

At some point I glanced inside the RV and noticed the Dale was inside, fully kitted out, sitting at the table eating breakfast. "Oh, people in cycling clothes eating breakfast," I thought to myself. 

Virgin Pochs

Virgin Linda! 

Soon we began the labeling of the virgins, who were understandably nervous. Day 1 was a big ride, a lot of miles and a lot of climbing. And those who hadn't done the ride before needed to be marked. 

Virgin Gpa

We needed to get rolling. We didn't have a place to stay secured in Storm Lake, so the Deb was being sent on ahead to scout out a beaver den. We needed to get our directions, get our group pictures taken, and hit the road. 

But where was the Dale? 

I asked the Deb. "Dale's not feeling very well this morning, so he's going to ride with me."

Ah-ha! Apparently, ragby isn't the time to lose weight or get in shape, but it is the time to stay up until the wee hours, drinking Seven and Sevens, to the point of a hangover so grim, bike riding is impossible. 

All the training in the world is for naught if you don't get on the bike. #truth

All kidding aside, we felt bad for the Dale. There's nothing worse than riding in an RV in ragbrai traffic while hungover. 

We were down one beaver before we even began...

R15 14 Pochy's Expo Thoughts Continued

So, Pochy had a few more thoughts about the Expo that came late. And, because it is Sunday, that's all you get. I mean, quick reading blogs, go spend some time with your family or your god or something, why don't you? 

The thing is - I thought The Expo would be fun.  I thought that Norman and The Boss were making a mistake by staying home and missing out on all-things-ragbrai... but they were right.  The Expo was not fun.  

I don't really think there is anything else I can say about it.  I think we ate some food.  Too Much and Grandpa got a cool picture in the Des Moines Register, and then we just couldn't wait to leave. 

R15 13 Beavers Are Nocturnal Creatures

All of the events in the following blog took place in the middle of the night, and so there are no pictures to support this blog or incriminate the criminals, but the beavers got busy once the sun went down. 

I was bunking down on the leather sofa in the living room. LindaLindaListen (LLL) was sleeping on the carpet behind the couch. Masinga was in the porch and Too Much and Grandpa were in the dining room. 

The Deb and the Dale were supposed to be sleeping in the Ark, and Steven and Mayor were in the spare bedroom, with the bed. I was considering using this space as a place to complain about American culture and the undue value we put on the archaic and paternalistic state of matrimony, so that single people have to sleep on couches while married people get beds and privacy, but...perhaps its better if the romance of the Mayor and Steven is kept behind closed doors. (Wink, wink). 

Grandpa wanted to go out to the concert. I can't remember who was playing but they were a pretty big band and he was going to meet his friend downtown, so he got ready and took the Jeep back to the Expo grounds. 

I nestled down on the couch, put my eye mask on and tried to sleep. In my 6 ragbys I've never had a good night sleep before the first day. There is too much going on, too much anxiety, and on this night, too many beavers running amuck! 

The Deb and Dale stayed up with our hosts, and they proceeded to drink a bunch of whisky. And you know what they like in their whisky? Ice and diet Dr. Pepper. That means every 15-45 minutes the door to the back porch would open and someone would stumble inside, rustling around in the fridge, with increasing ineffectivity, and then slam back out the door. Like. Fucking. Clockwork. 

I don't know when they eventually called it a night, but I do know that just about the time when it seemed like all was peaceful, Grandpa came home and proceeded to settle into the noisiest, rustliest sleeping pad in the whole world. Crinkle! Zing! Scraaatch! 

There was no sleep in SUX-ville for this beaver that night. 

I fell into a light doze around 2am, and when my alarm sounded, well before dawn, I was cursing my team. Thankfully, the Gods of Ragby had sweet vengeance on their minds as well! 

R15 12 Fueling!

Just a few reminders, Beavers, as we go into the weekend. 

• If you haven't reserved your spot at the TB RRAP please do so! We need 5 more beavers and beaver supporters to join us for a night of fun, feelings, and fur. Tickets are $61 and I will personally guarantee you have the best time ever. 

• Winter break starts for me tomorrow. And I am traveling a lot. That means I have to do a lot of pre-blogging to ensure blogs are posted every day while I am afield. What's it to you? Well, if you want to help old Norman out, get me your guest blogs ASAP. It really does take some pressure off. Thanks. 

IT. IS. On.

• And finally, just a quick thank you to Steven, for reminding me that even though this is my blog, I shouldn't just assume I can curate the images of me that are posted in this venue. Just when I thought I could reserve a sliver of dignity... 

Beaver Feast!

As the beavers were preparing for the first day of the ride, our hosts were preparing a massive Iowa-style feast! Hamburgers! Hot dogs! Mayo-based salads! Chips! Watermelon! Etc. Homemade food is a pretty rare commodity on the ragby, so it was especially delicious. 

#IowaCore

As we were eating, of course, we were also doing yoga, counting our moneys, chatting about the ride, and drankin'. Obviously. I was mostly sticking to beers of the light variety, in an effort to re hydrate after my #rollout fireworks of champagne and Surly Coffee Bender. 

Whoo?!

And soon little beavers were showering and preparing to bed down all through the house. Well, most beavers were preparing for bed down. Others were preparing for some nocturnal shenanigans. 

Wait, did I take notes???

R 15 11 Get Ready, but Don't Let Your Hubris Hit You On Your Way Out!

When I emerged from the fog of my #rollout drunken stupor, the team had returned from the Expo and everyone was puttering around and preparing for the next day.

I am pretty sure most teams and riders do this the night before the big ride, but Team Beaver adds some special flourishes to our ragby preparations.

Of course, everyone is concerned that their bikes are in ship-shape. Beavers are the same. Chains are lubed, tires are aired, and the bikes are stored with the utmost care for security.

Beaver bike storage.

Of course, some beaver bikes have more equipment than others.

Selfie Stick Installation with Grandpa 5.0

The revolution will be documented, and then squirreled away for no one to see, ever.

Physically, too, everyone wants to make sure they are feeling their best before the ride. Of course that means getting hydrated. 

More cheers!

Others spend some time getting limbered up.

Bendy as a pole cat, that one!

While other beavers are more concerned with their appearance. Looking pretty is important to beavers. (The rules: look good, have fun, safety third!)

French braids. Keep it tight! 

While others are simply reflecting on their intentions for the journey ahead.

All part of the uniform!

And, of course, beavers got to double check they have sufficient funds to get them through the week.

While I was making my preparations, I had an intriguing and it turns out foreshadowing conversation. Sophomore year beavers have a tendency towards confidence. After a successful first year of ragby, second year riders will often feel like they know everything their is to know about bikes, bike riding, ragby, etc. There is some over confidence there, that I find, the sophomore year beats out of you.

I was puttering around with the Mad One during the preparations when The Dale walked over to me. I don't exactly know how the conversation started, but he says to me, "You know, Norman, ragbrai is not the time to get in shape or lose weight."

I assume this was in reference to my clear and obvious out-of-shapedness. I'd spend the summer cheating on cycling with sailing and Goldie's pool. Turns out, the same weather that is good for bike riding is good for sunbathing.

I sort of nodded in agreement, but I had experienced a ragby-related shape up a time or two, so I knew it would be painful, but I'd survive.

Then he looked my tires, and to add bossiness to insult, he said, "you need new tires, too."

Again, I sort of nodded. If I'd learned anything from the Mayor's casual approach to bike maintenance, I knew that I'd probably be fine for the week. It's not like I'd been riding my bike all summer...

The Dale's comments stung, because they were both correct and because he's my parent. I knew I was completely out of shape and looking at a slow and sucktastic ragby. I also know I needed new tires. I also knew that I had been riding my bike and ragby a lot longer than my totally Freded-Out stepdad.

The Dale wandered off, leaving me to finish my preparations, muttering to myself in annoyance. "We'll see!"

R15 10 "Relaxing!"

Hey there, Beaver Readers! It is Steven (The Boss)! I interrupt this Expo Explanation to offer a piece of video evidence to illustrate what "relaxing" at our host house really looked like. Some call it "relaxing", I call it "drunk whining in the front yard." Tom-ay-to...Tom-ah-to!

I will call this Exhibit A.

Open Coors Tall Boy Nearby? Check
Amazing Skin Belt? Check
Plush and luscious western Iowa grass? Check
Normie in all of her RAGBRAI splendor? Check

Game on!