The Spirit of RAGBRAI came alive on the road from Jefferson to Ames. With most of the team riding the Century Loop on Monday, we were planning to sleep a little later and enjoy a much shorter ride on Tuesday. Our plan was to make a lot of stops and enjoy "RAGBRAI'ing", a term used to describe the Spirit of RAGBRAI. Basically, it means partying as much or more than riding, taking in the local flavor of all the towns on the route, and generally having a good 'ole time. Some riders "RAGBRAI'ed" the whole 470 miles. Others just liked to ride. For most of the week Team Joyride was somewhere in the middle, but on Tuesday we were RAGBRAI'ing the whole way. And why not? The weather was perfect and the towns all did a great job of entertaining us.
Our first stop was Grand Junction and a pancake breakfast served by the local fire protection district, because firemen make the best pancakes (it's a fact, I don't know why). From there, I stopped in Dana to visit an old client from my St. Louis banking days. I hadn't talked to Mark Juhl, president of Juhl Feed, for several years, and it was nice to reconnect while RAGBRAI passed through this town of less than 100 inhabitants.
Most of Team Joyride regrouped between Dana and Ogden, where we enjoyed our first real tailwind of the trip coming into Ogden from the north. The road was downhill all the way into town, which appealed particularly to Greg Sierra. Greg has been a consistent member of Team
Joyride over the years and was one of the key organizers of the 2008 team. Prior to joining the accounting instruction staff at Southern Illinois University - Edwardsville, Greg worked for the Federal Reserve Bank. Several years ago he recruited fellow Fed man Art Lindo to Team Joyride. When riding downhill, Greg's pace is nearly impossible to match. He pedals hard and enjoys some natural "ballast" that gives him momentum I just can't touch. On this last stretch of road to Ogden, Greg was in roadie heaven.
Whenever RAGBRAI passes through an Iowa town, its residents stop what they're doing (mostly because they have to) and come out to see the action. As we entered the towns, we were first welcomed by many, then barraged with solicitations from everyone selling anything. Kids, teenagers, adults, and grandmothers let us know exactly where we could find food, beverages and merchandise. Most towns became a traffic jam of bicycles as RAGBRAI'ers swarmed main street in search of pie and other Iowa specialties. We were thanked by residents on our way out of town. Good people, the Iowans.
Boone was the final town before our overnight stop in Ames. These "last towns" are unofficially designated as Party Towns on the RAGBRAI route. Boone lived up to its expectations, with multiple beer gardens. But to get there, we first had to scale the longest hill of the week: a 300-foot, mile-long climb out of the Des Moines River valley. It was a tough climb for a flatlander. Matt Kavan had the advantage of living in San Diego up until early 2008, which afforded him the ability to ride year round and train for these kind of hills. No one was surprised to see him first to the top. At the crest of the hill, one of the teams taunted riders with "Free beer for quitters!" From what I could tell, the beer may have been free, but the team served it to the quitters by pouring it over their heads.
We spent some quality time in the Miller beer tent watching grown men get spanked by the Miller Girls, who I'd characterize as a poor man's Bud Girls. On the way to Ames, we stopped at Beekman's roadside stand for homemade raspberry ice cream, strategically placed at the top of a hill. The roadside vendors long ago figured out the most important marketing aspect of RAGBRAI - it's all about location. Nobody stops for a break at the bottom of a hill.
Larry and I rode into Ames together on a route that took us through the campus of Iowa State University. Frat boys had slip-n-slides set up in their front yards, and one of them handed me a bicep-mounted iPod carrier with a Barilla pasta logo as I pedaled by. I have no idea why I received this gift (I don't even own an iPod) but I thanked the boys and dreamed of a real-life Old School fraternity. We continued on past the ISU stadium, where the legendary band Styx was to perform that night. Contrary to popular rumor, Styx is not dead...yet. Neither is Lance Armstrong, who made a cameo appearance that night.
Our host for the night, whose name I can't remember, offered up his shower and washer/dryer so we could do some laundry. The next morning, he brought us muffins. Like I said, good people in Iowa. Marlene took charge of the laundry and had our dirty clothes washed, dried and folded in no time. She was our mom during the week. Each day we'd arrive at our host's house with the RV parked and set up, beverages in the refrigerator, beer on ice in the cooler, snacks laid out on the table, and chairs lined up in a shady spot. Marlene is a grandmother of about 20, give or take, and did her first RAGBRAI last year. She says she's retired, but from the sound of it, she's not exactly sitting around the house. Marlene's hometown, Rock Rapids, has been a RAGBRAI starting point several times, and she's been an active participant in the community's planning and organization. This was a key advantage in finding housing for the towns that didn't have us set up with host families. Our sweet location in Tama/Toledo the following night was only because of her persistence during the week. Marlene was awesome.
For dinner, our host in Ames recommended a pizza joint downtown. We all piled into the RV, since we were a couple miles away and didn't feel like riding our bikes. Upon arrival, the restaurant was without air conditioning. Inside temperature: 101 degrees. The hostess suggested the bar upstairs, where we could eat the pizza and have some beers. Larry staked out a spot in the upper bar, which promptly introduced its musical entertainment. Here's a word of advice: If a band's first words of introduction are "We'd like to apologize to anyone expecting a quiet evening", get the hell out. Immediately. I wanted to unplug their amps and toss them out the 2nd story window. I felt...old. We took the pizza back to the house and ate it there.
