The Northern Tier: Days 33-38

Day 33: RAGBRAI

RAGBRAI is an acronym for the Des Moines Register Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa. The ride has been hosted every year on the last week in July since 1973.  It starts from the west side of the state of Iowa, where riders dip their tires into the Missouri or Big Sioux River, and ends on the west side of the state, where riders dip their tires into the Mississippi. Each year the ride takes a different route, starting from a different western town and ending in a different eastern town.   Although I did not join the ride across Iowa, I did happen to be in Muscatine, this year’s finish town, on the same saturday that the ride finished there.

This year there were apparently 17,000 riders taking part in some form.  Many people were on fancy road bikes, some on older steel frames like mine, some on tandems,the mix was all over the place.  The daily mileage is about 60 and the tour is supported so it apparently ends up with a lot of partying each night.  The thousands of riders rolling into the finish in Muscatine certainly looked happy.

Despite the massive amounts of riders, I still stuck out like a sore thumb.  I had a fully loaded touring bike and was riding around in my town clothes and sandals, having planned on a rest day of drinking and revelry with the rest of the RAGBRAI folks.  Interestingly though, two other touring cyclists on the Northern Tier found me in the crowd and we ended up partnering up on the spot.  I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ride a few miles that day.

Their names were Matt and Jodie, two Floridians on leave from their jobs as school administrators to take on a cross country tour.  Around mid-day, and amid many hundreds of other cyclists, we took off over the Mississippi into Illinois. Our ride was pleasant, with cooler temps and good conversation among the cornfields.  A common misconception is that Iowa is flat.  It is not, being actually rather hilly. Illinois however is flat.  Incredibly flat. The most exciting thing we saw above the cornstalks were giant 250ft tall windmills eating up the winds.

After a short ride we arrived at the big timber campground, where I finally got the stench out of my clothes in the laundry machine.  We had a few beers, ice cream and the hit the tents for bed, only to have it pour down rain for several hours that night.

Mileage: 55

Day 34: Riders of the Corn

     Matt and Jodie got ready at light speed in the morning.  They make a coffee/protein powder/instant breakfast drink that speeds up their meal in the morning.  I like to take my time, reading news articles on my phone, writing in my journal, boiling water for tea and for instant oatmeal.  I take between two and three hours getting ready each morning because I enjoy it and because I can.  I told Matt and Jodie to go ahead and take off, opting to spend the morning chatting with the campground owners, writing a blog post in the morning mist.

 

I eventually got on the road around 1:00 PM, one of the later starts I’ve ever had.  I knew I had a lot of catching up to do if I was going to the same campsite as Matt and Jodie, so I hit the road hard.  There wasn’t much in terms of elevation so the miles went by quickly. The ride was actually pretty boring.  There wasn’t much other than corn and soy fields for scenery the entire time.  I was happy to have my audio book.

I ended up arriving in Wenona about an hour after Matt and Jodie.  They had taken their time, stopping in towns along the way for food and relaxation.  Matt and I had a good chat over pasta while watching the lightning bugs bob between the trees.

Mileage: 75

Day 35: Riders of the Corn II

     I woke up a few hours before my partners, knowing that if I slept in at all they would be on the road long before me.  I wanted to at least enjoy the morning riding with them. Just as I was starting to pack after breakfast, they woke and we ended up getting on the road at the same time, right around 8:30 AM.  I lasted about 10 miles with them before the need for speed got ahold of me and I took off.

They were pleasant to ride with, but I needed to go fast.   I got into an aero position on my drop bars and booked it for the rest of the day.  The scenery was dull, with more corn and soy fields as far as the eye could see.  There was not even a hint of hill for the entire ride so I amused myself by seeing how fast I could go from town to town.

Towards the end of the day I ended up stopping in Iriquois.  They had a nice facility for cyclists, with a shower and microwave along with a few cots.  The town undertaker rolled up in a golfcart that evening to chat.  He was pretty drunk, making for some interesting conversation.  I slept great in the air conditioning and started early the next morning, hoping for a big day.  I was sick of the cornfields and wanted to get to more interesting scenery.

Mileage: 96

Day 36: Riders of the Corn III

     It was nice starting in the early morning for once.  I was on the road early before seven, my mind already wandering far.  I was thinking of Seattle and what it’s going to be like moving there, what it’s going to be like as a graduate student.  I’m at an interesting moment in my life, on the edge of a significant lifestyle change and a move to a new city.  It’s nice having the assurance of steady employment and a location to live in for the next five years though.

 

At one point during the day as I was sitting on the side of the road having a peanut butter and jelly, a dog sauntered up.  For once a dog was not aggressive towards my bicycle. She hung out with me for a while, drooling over my jars and keeping me company.

I camped for the night in Salamonie State Forest, happy to have some trees and scenery for a change.  The cicadas were deafening, droning on and on at earsplitting volume.  I broke out the earplugs and enjoyed my pasta in relative quiet.

Mileage: 115

Day 37: Gone Fishing

Raccoons stole a loaf of bread and a bag of beef jerky during the night.  I was so tired from the ride that I didn’t even notice them drag my bag to the trees, work through the buckles and scamper off with a bounty.  I was pissed in the morning.  As I was getting ready a neighbor asked if I needed anything before setting off.  Truthfuly I mentioned that I could use some bread, as the next town was 30 miles and I had nothing but peanut butter and raw pasta for food until then. He immediately invited me to his tarp pavilion and made me a second breakfast.

His name was Derek and was camping with his girlfriend Amber and her dog Bella.  Breakfast was chili, with Not Your Father’s Rootbeer and lemonade.  Derek was incredibly talkative and invited me to go fishing with him.  After considering the miles I had covered the past two days I decided to take a half day and join him out on the lake.  I love fishing, and it had been years since I had held a rod.  He was eager as a puppy and we rolled out onto the lake in his canoe.

Derek hooked me up in royal fashion that day.  He gave me a rod, tackle and bait, along with a knife and flashlight and beta on fishing techniques that I had either forgotten or never learned.  The fish were biting and we both caught a few.  I landed a few bluegill, two medium, two small and Derek caught a fair sized bass.  The weather was blistering hot but I didn’t really notice because I was having such a good time.

The half day turned into a full rest day that afternoon.  Derek invited me to dinner, boasting of a secret recipe he had come up with for the bass filets he had caught earlier.  I couldn’t pass up that opportunity, and despite Derek’s near constant evangelizing, he was growing on me.  I stayed for dinner and it was delicious.  He cooked the fish over the fire, marinated in a blend of spices and plenty of butter with deviled eggs on the side.

After dinner the raccoons came back.  At around midnight they started rummaging through the trash bin, waking bella in the process.  She chased one up a tree, where it proceeded to growl unhappily for the next few hours.  This woke Derek who proceeded to tear out of his pavilion and shoot the animal with a BB gun several times.  The cicadas were still deafeningly loud and neither Bellas defence nor Derek’s BB gun antics prevented the raccoons from coming back for more trash.  I did not sleep much that night.  I was still smiling as I stared at the ceiling of my tent though.  The day was wonderful, although once or twice I was asking myself what I had gotten myself into; when, after mere seconds after launching onto the lake in Derek’s canoe, he asked “So Andy, are you a believer in God?”, another time when Derek made a run to the store for an onion and drove 100+ down the two lane country roads to the store.  It was a great day though, having met some interesting folks, caught several fish and been loaded up with a new fishing pole, some tackle and a knife and flashlight all courtesy of Derek the magnanimous.

Mileage: 0

Day 38: Monroeville Demonstrates a Good Time

That morning Derek took off to take a shower at the next state park down the road.  During that time I got to speak with Amber, who is the balancing force to Derek’s wild personality.  She was calm and steady, assured and gentle in her manner.  She was a nice break from Derek’s exuberance.

I prepared for my ride and made my way out of the park.  On the road to the dam, Derek pulled ahead of my in his truck, stopping me to give a prayer for me on the side of the road.  I appreciated the gesture and his words filled me with a brightness that made the first several miles of my ride very enjoyable, even if I didn’t really agree with him about my being “lost” and needing to find God.  It was a heartfelt message and I enjoyed his reaching out to me in the way he knew how.

I rode in silence for a long while, taking in the events of the past 24 hours and enjoying the cool morning.  The rest of the ride was cornfields and soybeans (surprise!) until Monroeville.  I was about halfway done upon rolling into town where I met Jenny.  She’s also on the Northern Tier and was taking a rest day in Monroeville in order to see what the Harvest Festival was all about.  I was about to continue on until she mentioned the lawnmower races.  I had to see what that was all about.

The festival was excellent.  Monreoville has a city park with a fabulous shelter in the middle. There was a shower and laundry, cots to sleep on and a nice cool room  mostly to ourselves.  The townspeople were gathering for the festival.  Local churches served fried food and ice cream while a few bands played on the stage.  Craftsmen and women showed their wares in tents next to the stage and later in the evening enginges began to roar from the race track.

They were drag races and every type of vehicle was present.  There were a few legitamate lawnmowers, several golf carts, a go cart, several trucks, ATVs, dirtbikes and some veicles that may have once been lawnmowers but were so chopped up that they were purely dirt drag racing machines now.  They all raced each other, kicking up huge clouds of dust and dirt, engines roaring in the evening sun.  I sipped lemonade with Jenny, laughing and enjoying the spectacle.  The bands continued to play and I ate ice cream and fried food until I was stuffed.  I was glad I stopped.

Mileage: 56