Blissful Riding

Drying out from a huge thunderstorm last night.

Day Thirteen: Chariton/Russell to Ottumwa

Chariton, Millerton, Bethlehem, Confidence, Iconium, Moravia, Unionville, Blakesburg, Ottumwa

77 miles, 6 and a half hours in the saddle plus half hour around town

A nicer day today, hillwise...we actually had some flat stretches, and the hills were more of a gradual grade than steep gut-busters (though there were some of those, too). I decided to take it easy and just go at a moderate pace. This was facilitated by a big breakfast at Mama Raphael's Breakfast Buffet...anything more than a moderate pace would have prompted me to enjoy that breakfast again...and again...and again. Let me tell you a little about Mama Raphael (“Are you Mama Raphael?” I asked the kind lady at the front of the operation. “No, Mama Raphael is the one with the mustache,” she replied, pointing me toward the trailer behind.)

So I went to the trailer behind and found a mustachioed man in the trailer and said thank you so much for this breakfast buffet! Everything is sooooo good, and it's such a nice variety of food! THANK YOU! and he said he used to ride Ragbrai and knows what people need.

So this buffet has scrambled eggs, salsa, tortillas, mushrooms, meat, pancakes, oatmeal, biscuits, gravy, granola and other cereals, milk, chocolate milk, coffee, orange juice, brown sugar, raisins...everything you can think of, and I'm sure I'm leaving some things out. I know I'm writing about food again, but It was SO GOOD! And I have had some problems this trip finding food that is not sausage, pork, sausage, beef, chicken, or sausage.

Mark and I motored on, slowly and contentedly, though Mark was actually not feeling quite so good in the stomach and I think has less fond memories of this meal. The road unwound invitingly before us, rolling through corn and soybeans bordered by Queen Anne's lace and tall prairie grasses. Blue sky, puffy white clouds, green fields and grass, and a gentle breeze...it was a fine day, indeed.

We were riding at the back of the pack, with back-of-the-pack stick bikers and many baggers. There were a few more stick bikes than one would normally expect at that hour, due to the fact that today included a 20-mile optional loop, for those who wanted to do a century. Actually, you could always tell a “looper”...they passed us with heads down, arms extended on aero bars, pedaling intently...zooming by as if we were standing still.

Not loopers.

I lucked out again on the food today with a stop at the Pastafari guy, just before Moravia. They were just shutting down; in fact, the guy making the food had just taken a bite out of the meal in front of him when I came up and asked about a veggie pasta. So he indicated the one he had just stuck his fork into and said, “Here...it's free”

“Free! No!” I said, protesting.

“I just took a bite out of it!” he said, and passed it to me over the counter.

I didn't care one whit about the bite...I was in heaven again. Pasta and nice spicy red sauce with grilled zucchinia and yellow squash and I'm not sure what else. SOOOOOOO tasty! I really need to eat better food on these trips. It really makes a big difference.

Mark gets the absolute last scrapings.

Anyway, the most important thing beyond the food was that we caught up with Lauree, Kentucky Jim, Hajdu, and Ohio Mike at this stop. We'd seen them riding by as we were stopped at a country store a ways back, but they hadn't heard our yells. So we got the update: Lauree had stayed in Chariton, and Toby had never made it out of Lacona. KY Jim, Ohio Mike, and Hajdu had ridden on from Chariton to Russell, not on the route but easy to rejoin the next day. And they were planning to go north at Moravia to Albia, visit Ohio Mike's sister-in-law, and then continue past Ottumwa to Agency and spend the night there.

We had a nice sit-down in the shade, eating pasta and chatting. A massage guy nearby was selling his Westie camper, and we all went over to check it out. Mint condition and chocolate color, 1984, previous owner VW mechanic. Hmm. Tempting!

Mark and I decided to stay on the route and be Ragbrai tourists the whole day, so after a nice sit-down and visit, we struck out for Moravia and beyond.

I guess I am not the only one with a sore butt.

Of course we HAD to go there...

More beautiful road and great riding...a few grind-up hills but mostly rollers, a shady stop in the cemetery at Unionville (some lovely old tombstones)...a Greg Leavengood sighting in Blakesburg (now my Ragbrai is complete, though not totally complete because he didn't sing me “Heather on the Hill”)...quick visit with Nick Gevock and Al and his friend Vicky, and we arrived in Ottumwa just before dark.

An Opinion Expressed

Our brief, shining encounter with Josh and Andrea, long-time friends of Bob and Noelle and stout-hearted bicycle tourists. They went on to non-Ragbrai destinations from Orient.

Day Eleven: Orient to New Virginia

43 miles, 4 hours in the saddle

This day was great. We woke up early (that part is not so great) due to a loudspeaker blasting half a block away...turned out the local radio station had set up right there at the corner, and since Orient was the first town out, people had started coming through at FOUR THIRTY AM. No kidding.

About 8 was our rising time, though, and we emerged to find ourselves in the thick of things...actually, sort of toward the back of the front. Mark and I walked around town and did Ragbrai things, like having our picture taken under this sign...
...and meeting a very large rabbit. This is Blake and his second-place-winning rabbit at last year's county fair, Bigwig. This year's fair is this weekend, and they have high hopes of taking the big one this time.

I wanted to show Mark Chris Cakes, a Ragbrai tradition, so we headed to the pancake place and were treated to the spectacle of mass-pancake production and cakes flying through the air. (He'll toss them to folks willing to try and catch. Only a few end up on the ground!)

Serious business
Well, maybe not so serious!

We also saw our generous hostess from the mayor's house!

orange drink-like substance

Wow, we had the chance to really get ahead, since we were already one town up on the route. But of course we noodled around so long that almost everyone was gone by the time we left. Only the bus-riding drinkers and us baggers were left.

previously crowded street

It was just past noon when we were turning the corner out of town...past the convenience store...from whence we heard that timeless, classic call: WUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSS!

It was Bob and Cheri!!!
A visit ensued, and I decided their rigs are worthy of a feature and took a few pics (more on that later). It was about 1 p.m. when we finally left...back on our usual time schedule, I'm afraid. :-)

Rode to Macksburg, where the gang was hanging out outside the local tap. A sign advertised pasta salad, which Noelle confirmed was really good. I was thinking of more of a meal, however, and had spotted a cafe down the road. So down to the cafe we went, and when we arrived, we were informed our choices were "sausage and gravy, sausage sandwich, or just sausage."

"Um," I said, trying to frame a question which might net me something other than sausage, "Do you have a tomato?" I had in mind a vegetable sandwich of some sort, perhaps involving cheese and a tomato.

"No. Only sausage."

Wow. 10,000 cyclists had come through like a swarm of locusts, and there was literally nothing left but sausage. Not even a tomato!

Back to the bar, where pasta salad was looking pretty good. I went in.

"I'll have the pasta salad, please," I said to the woman behind the counter.

"We're out," she replied.

I looked at the guy next to me, whose plate was full of pasta salad. Rats.

"Okay, what do you have?" I asked.

"Pork sandwich or Maid-Rite," she replied.

Pork sandwich or Maid-Rite. A Maid-Rite, for those not in the midwest know, is kind of like sloppy joe. Actually, I myself am just reporting what others have told me, as I have never eaten one. In any case, neither of these options were going to do it for me. Mark ordered the pork sandwich, and we went back outside.

Luckily, we had gone to Hy-Vee and stocked up on salmon packets and cream cheese and Triscuits awhile back. Once again, my life was saved by our stash of food, though after repeated Triscuit-meals, it was losing its lustre somewhat.

It was in Macksburg that I noticed Jim's ball and chain...a perfect matched set, how about that, though he'd discovered them separately! Essential touring items for the discriminating biker, guaranteed to discourage would-be bike thieves.
We moved on to the Buck 'n Wild, across town, where the tour was on. They had a nice beer garden out back, and we sat around for awhile, trading stories and enjoying the ambiance.

Really enjoying the ambiance

Met a nice gal named Maria who'd been talked by her boyfriend into hopping onto a fully loaded touring bike going up and down these hills, having not ridden a bike since she was a kid...grounds for homicide, I'd say, but she was holding up well despite the hardships.

And then the Team Diego bus arrived. Loud music from the bus overwhelmed our jukebox selections, and drunken bikers began pouring across the lawn towards the beer garden. When a few tried to climb over the fence, the stalwart owner of the Buck 'n Wild protested, but eventually they decided to just move the fence and let them in.

We were officially invaded.

And we were not happy about it.

So an opinion was expressed...
:-))))

After Macksburg it was East Peru...that's East PEE-roo. Seriously. And in East Peru we met Annette, proprietor of the local bar, who told us that East Peru is famous for being the home of the original Delicious apple. And she had the history book to prove it, with the whole story written down right there, which of course I had to read aloud to everyone in the bar. You can take the girl out of teaching, but you can't take teaching out of the girl...

Annette with the East Peru history book

In East Peru there was also not a scrap of food left. The locusts had struck here, too. This is what happens when you ride at the back of the pack...the VERY back, the very very absolute last back. You are stuck with an American cheese, mustard, and radish sandwich.

Mark models the sandwich.

Which, I might add, was actually very tasty.

In East Peru, though, I realized something dreadful: I had left my packet of maps and other sundry paper items back in Macksburg. This included a book I had bought in Red Oak, Travels With Lucy, which I had carried up and down a bunch of really big hills and had only gotten to page 6 in.

NUTS!

We tried in vain to locate a phone number for the bar in Macksburg. Ohio Mike had a collection of coasters this trip, and was able to dig out the one from the bar and that's how we knew it was called the Buck 'n Wild. Thank you, Mike, for all your valiant efforts in trying to help me regain my stuff. But information had no record of the Buck 'n Wild, and the Macksburg Bar and Tap phone was not being answered.

Nuts again!

I was most frustrated, not by the loss of the things themselves, but by my own irresponsibility! I had the whole route highlighted, and I like to have my information handy. I just like to be organized and in control! And now I had left my maps 10 hilly miles behind.

Well, there was no way I was going to ride back there...Hajdu generously said he had another Iowa map ($5 now, $10 tomorrow)...we had a number for some Macksburg bar, and maybe I could get ahold of them later and have them send me the stuff. We had to motor on.

And then Ohio Mike discovered he'd lost his coasters! Now this WAS a tragedy. You can replace maps and a book, but coasters you've collected over two weeks at every bar with people's signatures and such...well, that's not so replaceable.

After a bunch of searching, Mike found the coasters...in his bike pannier.

Mike nominates himself for the Alzheimer's Award.

On to Truro, and then a ride in the dark up and down some HUUUUUGE gravel hills to New Virginia. Once again, we were cutting off some of the route and getting ahead. This has got to be a record! The Bad Boys also did the same, and we hung out at the bar in New Virginia where great music and some stompy dancing by Jim.

Airborn

---

So the featured rig...today is going to be kind of a rig round-up, of some rigs that are not actually traveling with our group. We'll start with Bob and Cheri's. Bob, for many years, traveled with his truck and a driver and a few other members of Team WUS (Weird Urban Cyclists-but-with-an-S...well, it does say "weird" in the title). He always thought we were nuts for carrying all that stuff, sticking so far out to the sides, bucking the wind. It's not that he wasn't up for a challenge; he usually brought along a one-speed beater bike and would ride it at least one day--hence his nickname, "Beater Bob." And, as Worm said to me long ago, "That boy can RIDE!"

So it was never a question of ability, simply choices. And Bob came up with some interesting and unique choices when he finally did decide to carry all his own gear. I like to call it the "mountain" system, because Bob's idea is to minimize aerodynamic interference and pile everything--absolutely everything--behind the seat in a huge MOUNTAIN of stuff. All of it over the rear wheel.

Now how do you fit everything in a few bags on the back? Well, you pile it up high, for one thing. But you also use compression sacks and pack everything down tight. Bob's clothes for the week are contained in a stuff sack about the size of a grapefruit. Its weight is more like that of a cannonball, however. So it may look like Bob has less stuff, but if you try to pick up his bike, you'll be in for a surprise.

Bob continually tinkers with his system, adding little bags here and there. He has a place for everything, and everything one might need on a bike trip (and more). When asked what feature of his bike he would like to highlight, Bob pointed to the small blue plastic lightning bolt on the front wheel. I guess this is the most essential item.
Next, we have the Quadrabike. If you see these guys approaching, you'd better get on your bike and ride. You are SERIOUSLY behind.

The Quadrabike is a home-made concoction of some bikes welded together...I honestly am not too sure how this all works. But I do know it has a well-stocked cooler in the middle, plus a stereo, of course. All their gear is in the netting above.

Adios, Quadrabike. We are now officially dead last of 10,000 people.

But that's okay, because I got to hold the bunny.

Rain

Day Ten: Red Oak/Corning to Orient

The weather has been shifting...from 90s and suffocatingly hot the first part of the trip, to 70s and beautiful weather the last few days, to rain today...but just a little, not even enough to put on your rain gear. But still, we're glad to have our bikes under some awnings here in Corning.

So it's the middle of the day and I'm taking advantage of a little coffee and gift shop here in Corning to do a little posting. I'm surrounded by kids' books, white fluffy lambs, and pink ruffles. The rest of the gang is outside...we are reunited once again, as everyone was still here in Corning when Mark and I arrived.

So backing up, we were, as predicted, awoken quite early this morning. I heard people packing up BEFORE THE DAWN. At about 6, people started talking and packing up, and though I rearranged my earplugs fairly successfully, it was still kind of futile and I wound up getting up at SIX FIFTY AM. Yes, that is before seven.

I peeked my head out the tent, and I'd say about half the people were gone by then, but here's a pic of what was left, which was still a big change from our solitary site the night before:
It was a cool, overcast morning, which was nice. Mark and I packed up and went down to the Rainbow Cafe, where they had been so nice Saturday night, letting us use their computer. On the way in, I admired a bike outside outfitted with Arkels, front and back...well, one Arkel back and a basket on the other side, which was my touring style for all but the last two Ragbrais. It was the only bagger bike there.

I can't say enough good stuff about Arkels, by the way. They ROCK! They are sturdy and well-designed...obviously, whoever made these things did a lot of touring, and knew what bicycle tourists need. Pricey, but worth every penny.

Anyway, we walked in and I saw a gal sitting at the bar and I said to Mark, "I'll bet that gal is riding that bike with the Arkels." Mark said, "How do you know?" I said, "I don't know...I just do."

So I asked her if she was riding that bike, and sure enough, she was. We got to talking, and we mentioned we were traveling from Wray, Colorado, and then she mentioned that last year she had spent the night on the patio of Rube's Steakhouse in Montour with some people that had biked from New Mexico, and then we mentioned...well, exclaimed..."That was us!" Ha, we had been on the patio at Rube's together last year, and now here we were at the Rainbow Cafe in Red Oak.

Dorrie and I, former Rube's patio-mates.

Things like that are starting to happen...running into people from years past...feels like Ragbrai, all right. And now especially, we have REALLY run into Ragbrai. We wound up smack-dab in the middle of the pack, due to skipping three town and some miles by coming straight across on H34 from Red Oak to Corning this morning.

It was a great ride...I loved every minute of it. Rolling hills...well, some steep grinders, too, but I'm rejuvenated after our day of rest...plus, it's not hot.

It's hard to capture a steep grinder, but here is one.

We started out with the back of the pack, then were by ourselves for about ten miles, which was quite a nice change...peaceful and quiet. Stopped at a historical marker where wagon trains had camped, took a picture beside this sign which represents our riding style (not),then rejoined the crowd as they came back onto H34. And since we'd skipped three towns, we were now right in the middle of a seemingly never-ending stream of cyclists riding three or four abreast, sometimes taking up both sides of the road...and here is the amazing part: we actually passed quite a fair number of people going uphill. We GOT passed by even more people, probably, but hey. I felt studly for awhile.
Arrived in Corning around 12:30, and it was a madhouse.

There was such a crush at the corner that everyone walked their bikes up the hill to town.

Aaaaaaa! Who are all these people?!

In town, whilst looking for something to eat, we were invited to tour the Corning Opera House, which is in the early stages of restoration. Very interesting, and an endeavor I fully support. The arts are so important, and a place like that in a community becomes its heart and soul.

Corning Opera House
View from the Opera House window

This guy is pulling a cord that makes that leg on the top of the truck go up and down. Best quote from side of truck: "Worry doesn't improve the future; it only ruins the present."

Walking down Main Street to get a burrito, we were surprised to hear someone calling our names...it was Dr. Bob, Noelle, and Hajdu! I wasn't sure they would still be in town. All the rest were just down the street, including Tim Kelly, whom we'd run into at the decision point for the short cut (after much debating, he'd also taken it in the end). Ahh, reunited, and it feels so good!

Decision point, at which Tim was pretty sure he was taking the long way...not!

One veggie burrito and smoothie later (okay, again with the food! sorry), here I am with my mocha and little Asus plugged in and connected. Life is good.
---
post-Corning update:

Mark and I left Corning with Bob and Noelle in somewhat drippy weather, but not enough to put on the rain covers. (That would change.) We somehow got ahead of Bob and Noelle and went by ourselves into Prescott, which was about a quarter-mile off the route. Not much there; the Ragbrai mafia has decided that things need to shut down in each town at a certain time, in order to "move people along." Some people don't want to be "moved along," though, and just wait it out outside.

The Prescott Tap, closed for half an hour.

We didn't really want to stop, so headed back to the main road. Noelle caught up with us at the junction and decided to go into town to look for Bob, though we told her we hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. (We'd find out later that he had missed the turn and ridden right past.)

Whilst we were standing there, guess who should pull up but Nick Gevock! Twenty years ago we rode together when he was a stripling of 19...big straw hat, many happy memories of a very fun ride. Nick is riding this year with his friend Chris, who got this stellar haircut as "social experiment" and is having a very interesting time. Pre-bike ride but post-haircut, Chris was ticketed for "littering" after throwing some twigs in a creek. !! Um, can anyone say "mullet profiling?"
I had to make a hard choice between "with sweatband" and "without sweatband" for the picture...loved the band, but you will have to imagine the three chiseled lines of hair on each side just above the ears.

We rode with Nick until the turn-off for Orient, where Tender Tom's Turkey had set up a stand.

Leon and Nick at Tender Tom's Turkey

It was now starting to come down, so I put on rain covers and Mark and I decided to wait for Noelle and ride in together.
The gang had many fond memories of a previous trip to Orient, so we were eagerly anticipating a great night. But when we arrived, we found the bar filled with smoke and very loud jukebox music, and no food. On the plus side, LJ was there! and Terry Vorbreck, whom I hadn't seen in a coon's age! But the downside was a bit too much for Mark and I, and we headed out to set up camp in a concrete shelter down the block from the bar.

So we were setting up camp when two ladies came up to the chain-link fence (which was up to the roof...it was kind of like we were in a cage) and asked if we needed any blankets. No we were really fine, thank you... Well, they said, if you need anything, just ask. Really, anything.

Well, what I really needed more than anything was a shower...you see the problem in Orient, beyond the smoky bar, lack of food, and really loud music, was that I couldn't wash up in the bar rest room. Because this bar had only a john in the little room and the sink was OUTSIDE, in full view of everyone in the place. NOT A HEATHER-FRIENDLY BAR BATHROOM WASH-UP ARRANGEMENT. I have perfected, if I do say so myself, the art of a completely refreshing, yes almost comparable to a shower, wash-up in any restroom. Any restroom that includes a SINK, for crying out loud!

So I'm standing there thinking well, they said anything...and I go over and say through the chain link well, what I really need, and if this isn't convenient for you it's no problem at all, I understand...but what I really could use, if you wouldn't mind me coming over, and really not everyone would be up for this and it's okay, but if you wouldn't mind...you see, I've been riding all day and usually I can clean up in the restroom but I really can't here because the sink is outside...and so what I really need, if you're willing, is a shower.

And I held my breath while I waited for their response, my life teetering between heavenly cleanliness and a night of disgustingness sleeping in my own grime, and it was all in their hands...and they said...

"Why, sure! Come on over! We just live right there!" and pointed to a white house just on the other side of the chain link.

Ahhhhhhh! Bliss!! And not only did they let me take a shower, they let Mark come over, too. And it turned out to be the mayor of Orient's house, and we had a very nice chat about Orient and bike riding and other things of interest. I really enjoy meeting people and finding out what their lives are like.

Post-shower, I retired happily to my tent. I realize I love sleeping outside...I love my Thermarest and the tent...most of the reason I ever want to go to a motel is just for the shower! I'm thinking of some kind of portable enclosure with a sun-shower for next year...

The mayor of Orient's house, which has a FANTASTIC shower!