Post RAGBRAI Reflections

And we're back!  Time to debrief and reflect on last week's journey across Iowa.  I'll give the breakdown day by day and mention lessons learned along the way.  

The fun began Saturday night in Orange City after 5 long hours in the car (shout out to my parents for driving us there!).  Dan and I found a great place to set up camp (aka our hammocks) and then walked a few blocks to where all the music, food vendors, and expo tents were set up.  It's impossible to describe the vibe of RAGBRAI for those who have never witnessed it, but I will try.  It's visceral and electric and...awesome?  There are no fitting adjectives, you see.  It sounds like classic 80s rock music, tastes like homemade pie and cheap beer, smells like fried food vendors and porta potties (called kybos on RAGBRAI), and feels like gritty sunscreen sweating off down your face.  Still not selling it?  It's thousands of people excited, just like you are, to ride bikes for a week straight and forget about the outside world.  It's just...my favorite. 

We dipped our tires at Windmill Park to officially mark the beginning of our trip and enjoyed a few beers before calling it a night. 

Tire dip in Orange City (start of RAGBRAI)

Sunday brought 62.6 miles all the way to Spencer with 6 stops through towns along the way, each town offering different vendors, activities, and entertainment for the riders. The miles between the towns are filled with roadside vendors selling fruit, granola, and other homemade goodies, many with funny signs (like the picture below) to keep you intrigued and motivated on the road.  The designated camping spot in Spencer was the fairground which didn't offer much for hammocking trees, except a row of pine trees along the outside edge of the stadium.  We took what we could get but learned our first important lesson:  hammocking in pine trees means you must have a tarp to cover all gear from sap drips.  Luckily, we didn't need to use our rain fly that night, so we covered our gear with that.  We also learned that the shower semis pack up between 8:30 and 9 p.m. (we persuaded the workers to let us be the last ones in), so we learned that we can't dilly dally much after setting up camp and eating dinner.

Monday was a rough day.  Not only was it the longest in mileage (71.7 miles), it was also the day of two flats, a new tire, and a painful injury.  We were just outside of our first stop, Ayrshire, when my front tire popped.  I heard the loud sound, watched my front tire instantly deflate, and before I could successfully unclip my shoes from my pedals, I was on the ground.  Dan and a stranger immediately came to my rescue as I brushed off the gravel from my arms and legs.  The major pain was not in the gravel scratches though. Nope, it was in my lady business because as I fell the saddle jammed me real, real hard.  Woof, as if those areas weren't already feeling enough discomfort from my (always very timely) period.  Ew. Ouch. Not fun.  

Dan changed the tube quickly, but since we were only a few hundred yards outside of the last town, we headed back to make sure the tube was fully inflated for the upcoming 45+ miles.  As Dan was inflating the new tube, it burst again.  Clearly there was another issue, so we waited in line for a bike mechanic to take a look at it.  Sure enough, a small bead on the inside of the tire had broken and seemed to be the source of the two flat tubes.  We replaced my tire, and somehow I was able to push through the pain to make it to Algona.   Lessons learned:  check beading inside of tires after getting a flat and all the chamois butter in the world doesn't make a bruised nether region feel any better.

Tuesday was the flattest day of our journey but also turned out to be the windiest and hottest.  We rode 51.4 miles into Clear Lake with lofty ambitions to stay up late enjoying the headline band, The Wailers (Bob Marley's band).  In reality, after we showered up at Dan's grandpa's house, we barely had enough energy to walk downtown and grab food before falling asleep in the grass during the Wailers.  Lesson learned: bikes with fully loaded bags and 25 mph winds takes it out of you.

The Lady of the Lake, Clear Lake, Iowa

The next morning challenged us with a few thunderstorms.  Luckily, we had made it to the Thornton country club before the first big downpour and were able to scurry under a cupcake vendor tent until the heaviest part passed.  We were a little wet and cold, but the storm provided a good excuse to eat a cupcake before 9 a.m.  It rained off and on for the rest of the morning and afternoon which presented us with yet another valuable lesson: we don't have effective rain jackets to deal with heavy, Iowa downpours.  The rain had stopped by the time we rolled into Charles City 57.5 miles from where we had started that morning, and we were able to quickly find trees and showers.  The headliner that night was an old Cedar Falls favorite, the Pork Tornadoes, and this time we were able to stay awake for the whole show.  We even had the foresight to swing by Kwik Star on our walk back and pick up some discounted donuts for the following morning--which leads me to another lesson learned: never leave bag-o-donuts unattended.  One eager and efficient clean-up crew man wrongly assumed our donut bag on the ground was empty and therefore trash.  We turned our backs as we were packing up for a mere second and our donut bag was gone.  Unfortunate start to our Thursday!

Charles City overnight

Thursday's 54.6 mile ride to Cresco was quite lovely.  The temperature and wind that day were perfect allowing for a refreshing, shaded nap in New Hampton after lunch.  Although nothing eventful happened, I think the exhaustion from the week finally caught up to me all at once as we walked through downtown Cresco hunting for dinner that night. We had been eating our space food at night for dinner, but that night we wanted to treat ourselves to a nicer meal.  I had visions of sitting down in air conditioning for a few hours, but by the time we got downtown, either lines were out the doors or restaurants had already put up "out of supplies" (true story!) signs.  That triggered a bit of a breakdown, resulting in none of the vendors sounding good and Dan (with remarkable patience) insisting that I eat some gosh-darn stirfry noodles.  Lesson learned: Dan takes good care of me even when I'm being a huge brat (I already knew this but this lesson has been re-affirmed).

People from all over the U.S. and world join RAGBRAI

Friday's 60.1 mile ride into Waukon was hilly and beautiful.  We met my sister and Maleah in Decorah for lunch at Mabe's Pizza after stopping for a few favorite brews at Toppling Goliath Brewery.  Lunch was super delicious, but an important lesson followed:  biking and greasy cheese do not mix well in our increasingly dairy-resistant bodies.  I probably shouldn't have had an ice cream sandwich that afternoon as well---ugh, it's just so hard to give up foods you love but body rejects! Postville was another fascinating stop that deserves mentioning.  Did you know that Postville is the most diverse city in Iowa?  It was great to see RAGBRAIers interacting with the mix of cultures represented in Postville.  I can't imagine what was running through the minds of the Somali immigrants as they watched 20,000 strangers pass through their town on bicycles that day.

Postville main street

The evening in Waukon ended suddenly after setting up camp because I fell asleep as soon as I sat in the hammock without dinner or a shower.  Again, Dan is an angel for putting up with me.

Saturday, our last day, was the shortest (only 44.8 miles) but hilliest. We knew that this would be the most challenging day of the week and had been mentally prepping for it all summer as we trained. Wooo, it was crazy tough, but WE DID IT!  There were many times I wanted to get off my bike and walk, but instead I kicked the bike into "granny gear" and just took it slow and steady.  On the other hand, the downhills were insane!  With all the weight in our bags, we cruised past the lightweight bikes at scary speeds (over 40 mph easy).  Not only did we finish every mile, but we can now call ourselves "baggers."  I should take a minute here to mention how supportive other baggers were on RAGBRAI.  Having bags automatically puts you into a unique community of cyclists and every one of the other baggers we passed or passed us had an encouraging word to say, which definitely makes me want to keep doing this type of cycling.  

Somewhere between Waukon and Lansing

The last day is always bittersweet. I was exhausted from a week of consecutive biking, late nights, and early mornings but at the same time didn't want any of it to end. One RAGBRAIer in front of me in line at Casey's gas station one morning said it best.  She said, "There's no other event like this where you can ride all day for one week, protected from cars, enjoying beautiful scenery, pee in a cornfield, and meet such happy people from all over the world."  As she talked about her experiences kissing pigs and meeting local people I teared up with pride to have such an event in my home state. There's just nothing like RAGBRAI.

We did it! 

And RAGBRAI really goes beyond the party, the beers, the new and old friends, the entertainment, etc; this year in particular, it has given me a renewed sense of confidence.  I set goals and met them.  I challenged myself and didn't give up when I felt like quitting.  I am amazed at what my body and mind can do.  I needed that before heading into another school year at UI.  

Last, but certainly not least, the whole experience grew my love for Dan even more.  He loved and encouraged me the whole week, even when I was being a bear to him.  He's strong and gentle and smart and patient and easy on the eyes and...I can't wait to marry him!

Tire dip in Lansing (end of RAGBRAI)

My heart is full.  I can't wait for more touring trips around Iowa and the Midwest this fall, all of which I will be documenting here.  Cheers to "bagging" it! 

Peace, love, and bicycles,

Kelly