After six consecutive days riding a bike, the garage floor of Dr. Mark and Sharon Nile's country home made for some pretty good sleepy time. We had planned to rise early and be on the road in time to arrive in Le Claire early enough to get the rented RV back to St. Louis by 5:00 p.m. This would require a wheels-on-the-road time of no later than 6:30 a.m., and I wasn't sure we could pull it off. Each of the past six mornings I'd spent a lot of time pretending to have something to do while others in the group readied themselves to ride. On Saturday morning, it was more of the same. Matt Kavan was usually right beside me, politely waiting.
There had been talk of loading the bikes into the RV and having Marlene drive us down the gravel hill to Route 130, where we'd join the RAGBRAI route to Le Claire. I nixed that idea and led Matt and Darren down the half-mile of gravel. We joined in another long, steady line of riders with the same idea - start early, finish early, and go home.
Saturday's route was the shortest of the week, and the flattest. Finally, after many days of fighting headwinds, a gentle breeze from the northwest pushed us toward the Mississippi. The first two towns passed quickly as we pedaled to our planned stop at Maysville, about halfway into the day's ride. Matt and Darren picked up the pace while I hung back with Ron Schechter for several miles. During the week I hadn't had a chance to ride much with Ron, an attorney at the same Washington D.C. law firm as Ted Frank. Ron has a classic radio voice, deep and articulate, the type you'd expect from NPR on the drive to work. After completing his law degree at Georgetown University in the early 1970's, Ron stuck around Washington D.C. and has called it home ever since. Art Lindo recruited Ron to Team Joyride a few years ago, and on this day he was about to finish his 3rd ride across Iowa.
The Joyriders were making fast progress as we approached Maysville, where we stopped for some baked goods at the fire station. Darren was served the beer garden's first beverage of the day, a Blue Moon at 8:10 a.m. And why not? It was RAGBRAI, a week of making exceptions.
Just after Maysville, we turned off Route 130 and discovered just how much of a tailwind had been helping our progress. A short stretch of county road took us back to the northwest, straight into the wind, before we headed east on Le Claire Road. This mile of so of headwind was an unwelcome guest on our road to the Mississippi, but the route planners didn't make us suffer long.
By this time our climbing legs were tired, but Matt and I wanted to make a push to Le Claire with enough time to dip our tires in the Mississippi. This is one of the oldest traditions of RAGBRAI, and it's usually preceded by dipping tires in the Missouri River at the start of the ride. Missouri Valley was several miles east of the Missouri River, so we didn't get a chance to wet our tires in the Big Muddy, but we wanted to at least get to touch the water in Le Claire.
Closer to town, the hills were more frequent. On a descent, I experienced the one and only mechanical issue of the week, luckily a minor one. As I flew down a steep grade at about 35 mph, my chain hopped off the front chain wheel after I shifted into lower gears for the climb back up the next hill. Half a minute later, I was back on the road. From there we breezed into Le Claire and took a break at the Pebble Creek golf course. My parents were meeting me at the finish and I wanted to let them know I was close, but like everywhere else in Iowa, Matt's iPhone was struggling to find AT&T service. Cell coverage had been spotty across Iowa, most likely because of the 15,000 or so RABGRAI'ers and their entourages overloading just about every rural wireless system we came across.
Wisconsin Street took us straight to the Mississippi, where I found my parents sitting along the street near a huge U.S. flag hung from a fire engine ladder truck. We walked down to the picturesque, historical riverfront under clear skies, where crowds were gathering as riders formed a line to dip their bicycle tires in the river. Matt and I had arrived early enough to get ourselves in and out of the river quickly. As we headed for Marlene's location up the road at the Comfort Inn, the rest of Team Joyride - minus Ted Frank - joined us for one last climb. Our RV was parked at the hotel parking lot on top of a bluff overlooking the Mississippi, where Marlene and Larry Baerveldt were waiting. Ted arrived a few minutes later, and the RV pulled out at 11:00 a.m., right on schedule. I gave Marlene a hug, shook hands with the team, and watched the RV pull away. My RAGBRAI was over.
In the weeks leading up to RAGBRAI, my parents had been almost as excited as I was about this latest of my adventures. I didn't have to explain Mr. Porkchop, tire dipping, the big hill climb up to Boone, or even the weather we'd encountered. During the week they had logged on to the Des Moines Register website regularly, viewed the online photos, tracked Doppler radar across Iowa and read all the news articles.
On our way out of Le Claire, a massive number of support vehicles was lined up along U.S. 67, in all shapes and sizes, waiting to pick up their riders. Our early arrival gave us a head start in navigating our way across the river into Illinois, as well as a full view of just how RAGBRAI takes over the towns it passes through. In most of the overnight towns, the motor homes, cargo vans and buses were spread throughout the communities, but in Le Claire they were all concentrated along the river. For riders having their gear hauled from town to town by RAGBRAI trucks, their stuff was left in huge piles next to the long term parking lots. I got lucky - I had a personal ride.
Once you get your first taste of RAGBRAI, it's easy to understand why so many people participate, and why so many keep coming back for more. Seven days of riding across an entire state appeals to anyone who's serious about riding bicycles. Seven days of food, beverages and entertainment is popular with anyone who likes to eat and drink. This works so well in Iowa for a variety of reasons, starting with the towns which welcomed us into their communities. There's no better example of Midwest hospitality than RAGBRAI, but it wouldn't happen if the riders were disrespectful or unappreciative. The bikers are just good folks getting together to relax and have fun. We're generally harmless to the locals, which helps us get camping spots in front yards. Plus, we open our wallets. For many of the small towns the route passed through this year, RAGBRAI will be their largest single-day revenue opportunity until the next time 10,000 bikers roll through their communities.
To sum it up, RAGBRAI is something everyone should try once...at least. Whether you rough it with the general population of campers or organize a team with a support vehicle, it will be an experience like no other. Riding 470 miles in a week was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but it was also one of the most enjoyable weeks I've had in a long time.
