The Pinky of the Mitten: 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.