Sunday, August 1, 2010
Day one - Sioux Falls to Storm Lake
We dipped our tire in the Missouri River on Saturday evening before going to an early sleep experience in the tent. I did pretty well in the tent and got up at 6, packed everything up and got my bike ready. I had a problem keeping my valve stem in the tube so finally got my tires up to pressure and set off about 7:20. Just an aside, if you rode RAGBRAI last year, this year's route is soooo much easier. There were hills of course but they weren't endless and only about four or five were more than 5 degrees of climb.Stopped at the first town to get my valve stem tightened, then off I went. About 10 miles in I threw the chain and after getting it back on it gave me fits for the next 10 miles. Kept jumping gears which made it impossible to put much pressujre on pedals during the climbs. So my pace was much slower than I might have done. Got to Kingsley and spent an hour getting through the line to get it repaired. Discovered my chain was bent so replaced it. Filled my drink bottles and off I went. I promised Barbara I'd ride carefully this year so I slowed my pace from last year to about 13 mph and didnt fly downhills. I've also learned a lot about how to more effectively climb hills without tiring out and just spun my way up the hills without a lot of effort.Met some interesting people on the ride, as you would expect. A violinist with the Cherokee Symphony was identified by his tee shirt. He said they were giving a free concert in Storm Lake so I said I'd go. I did, by the way, and the all volunteer group played to a standing room only crowd and it was lots of fun. Music was good and appropriate for the audience.Talked to lots of other folks who commented on my Coe College riding clothes. The Coe group I'm riding with has neat clothes designed by the head of the art department, Peter Thompson. His paintings of farm yard scenes look great on the jersey and elicited a lot of conversation. There are 23 people on our group and they each have interesting personalities. More on them in the future.The ride went through some really pretty Iowa scenery and this year I was committed to watching more of it rather than trying to "finish first". There are very large wind farms with huge windmills to generate electricity. One of the turbines was destroyed by lightning two nights earlier during the storms that swept through the state. Bet the insurance bill for that is high.The streams were all still very full although they were receding.It seemed like there were a significantly larger number of riders this year. We spent more time walking our bikes because of the large crowds at some of the more popular food stands along the road than I remember last year. We still have to get off and walk through the towns like last year though.I ate very well as usual. Corn on the cob, rhubarb pie, pork sandwich all met the expectations of a trip through Iowa.The weather was cool in the morning and hot in the afternoon. I arrived in Storm Lake at 3:30 and the team had barbecue pork sandwiches, watermelon, potato salad and chips for dinner.It was a good day for a ride of 69 miles through the Iowa countryside. We are staying at a funeral home tonight after staying at a beautiful home last night that was more than a hundred years old. I showered and pitched my tent. Got my gears adjusted, attended the concert, enjoyed conversation with the team members and now I'm going to bed to get ready to ride to Algona tomorrow. Algona by the way is the home of the world's largest Chito. I think I might try to get a look at that when I arrive
Saturday's ride, July 30, Manchester to Dubuque
I’m a little late posting the information from the final day’s ride from Manchester to Dubuque but we packed up, showered and had lunch at Barb’s sister’s home in Dubuque and drove toward North Carolina, stopping late at night at a small town just north of Louisville, KY, and I was too tired to post, so here goes:
The final day’s ride was in our minds the entire trip because of the promise of the toughest hill on the trip: Potter’s Hill. It is a one mile long, up to 19 degree (so they said) climb that promised to challenge even the most fit, youthful rider. So when I awoke on Saturday to overcast skies and cool temperatures I was pleased. Potter’s Hill was one of the last obstacles we would encounter, occurring within a few miles of the outskirts of Dubuque and heat and overpowering sunshine weren’t going to help.
My occasional riding partners Doug and Ron had left the group the night before to return to Cedar Rapids for a family reunion, so I would be on my own for most of the ride. I left after packing up at about 7 am, a little later than normal, and rode east toward the first way point on the map, Earlville, Iowa.
I have been to Earlville many times as a young man. It was the nearest town, I think, to our favorite summer place, Lake Delhi, which now lay bereft of its water following the dam failure of a week ago. I didn’t plan to stop but once on this ride and Earlville wasn’t the place so I rode on with my battery powered taillight flashing. I rode slowly enjoying the foggy landscape with its rolling hills so typical of eastern Iowa. I also thought constantly of conserving energy because Potter’s Hill was looming.
Dyersville was roughly halfway to Dubuque and that was my planned stop. My neice, Kim, works at a restaurant there and I hoped to have breakfast there. We rode into town passed a large processing plant that smelled like yeast. A short jog beneath the railroad tracks put us on the outskirts of Dyersville where we crossed a small stream that a week earlier had obviously been a very large stream and had flooded the area.
Up a hill and into downtown Dyersville where there was a small sign saying “Country Junction, breakfast, 2 miles ahead”. That was Kim’s place but I realized it was going to take me more than a mile off the route and leaving the route wasn’t something I would do on this final day.
I rode slowly through the downtown finally dismounting and walking to where the route turned to the right. I parked my bike on the hillside and walked back into town. I got a coffee and Danish at a coffee shop. I loaded it with four shots of espresso for the climb ahead and went back to my bike. On the way there were two guys dressed in White Sox uniforms from the period depicted in the film “Field of Dreams” that was shot here in Dyersville. It is the most famous attraction in Dyersville, although I might think that the beautiful Basilica there would provide serious competition. Anyway, with cornstalks as the background, I had my picture taken with them.
Then back to the hillside where I sat down to enjoy my coffee and rest for the climb ahead. People watching is great at RAGBRAI and as I thought there listening to an eclectic music selection playing from loudspeakers across the street, I thought about this wonderful event and all the interesting people I have met and seen. Imagine bicycles and riders walking by that hillside four and more across beginning probably at 6 AM and continuing non stop until sometime in the afternoon. That is what you see if you are an observer sitting on the hillside of one of the pass-through towns when RAGBRAI comes through. It is one of the amazing things about the event; the sheer volume of riders that participate – some 10 to 15,000 of them on any given day. They are riding every kind of one, two, three and more wheeled bicycles (“bi” doesn’t seem right to describe them). From unicycles to old fashioned with one very large wheel and one very small one behind, to single speed old fashioned Schwinn’s of my youth, to six passenger “tandems” and recumbents of every configuration imagineable, to an elyptical bicycle, they stream by you. Parents with children in trailers, families traveling on tandems modified so the children can reach the pedals and participate, ride by each pedaling and pulling their weight as they cross this verdant and beautiful state.
I have to say I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it and as the music changed to the first mvmt of the Haydn Trumpet I got up and pedaled off with one final shot of the twin spires of the Basilica framed by an alleyway at the top of the Dyersville hill. There was no going back, Potter’s Hill lay ahead and I hoped I had the strength and ability to make the climb.
Riding out of town we passed the site of the Field of Dreams where riders were relaxing, playing ball, and enjoying the scene. I kept pedaling and met up with Tim and Ann for the first time on the ride. From Utah with Iowa roots, Tim and I had enjoyed many conversations in the mornings and evenings but hadn’t ridden together. For several miles we rode and it was obvious to me that Ann had the climbing ability to give her a chance at the hill. The terrain became a little more severe, there were over 2400 feet of climb during the short 47 miles of ride with almost all of it in the final miles.
We turned left onto a curving road, the first that I recall on the entire route. We rode a ridge road up and down hills with small climbs of 100 feet here and there just tempting us for the difficult time ahead.
I looked to my left, I was overwhelmed with the view. There was a valley way below us with a winding road at its base and another road marginally visible rising up the other side. That must be it.
All I could think of was the 23rd Psalm. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For Thy rod and Thy staff are with me.”
Here we go.
Down a screamer of a hill we wound into the basin into a small town at the base of the climb. A quick stop to adjust the tension on my shoes and out of town. They had paved the road recently so it was glass smooth coming through the town. We turned right and the handpainted sign said “Potter’s Hill, 19 degrees”. I didn’t really need that. I knew from reading about the hill that it had a false finish with a left turn and that when I got there I’d have another 1/3 of a mile to go to the top.
I looked up. There was no chance to get momentum. Most of the riders I could see had dismounted and were walking filling the right lane of the two lane road. I downshifted and began my climb.
I wear a heart rate monitor when I ride and I have a rule for my own safety that I will not ride more than a moment or two when my heart rate gets above 170 bpm. At my age it really isn’t safe. Up the hill I climbed and sweat was pouring off my forehead, arms, legs and anywhere else where sweat can leave your body.
I wore through the caffeine energy, through the energy bars I’d gobbled, through the Gatorade in my bottles, and through whatever reserves I had and I still wasn’t to the turn. I was more than halfway up the mountain though and passed David on his recumbent. I don’t know how recumbent riders can possibly make this hill. They fly down hills at great speed and then slowly make their way up the next one, wobbling their way skyward. I was too much for my friend and he and his daughter, who were riding together, put their feet on the pavement and began walking like most of those climbing.
A glance at my computer and I could see I was close to my heart rate limit. I wasn’t going to make it. It was time to stand on the pegs and really push but there was the 170 on the monitor and I had to get off, just short of the left turn that would have put the top in site and might have let me find enough energy to ride to the top.
Oh well, I’ll live to ride another day and another hill if I follow the rules. Off I went and walked the rest of the way.
Most of us walked and cheered those who could still pedal on their way with words of encouragement. We felt so good for them and really so bad for our inability to do the ride ourselves.
As I got closer to the top, the hill flattened slightly so I could remount and ride over the crest to the cheers of those watching at the top (no for me but for those who rode all the way). Someone on a loudspeaker was shouting, “This is Potter’s Hill. My father name is Potter. It is named for him. You can have your picture taken with him”.
Andy later said he called back that he didn’t want to do that and had something else in mind and the lady with the loudspeaker put the speaker down and said to him, “then you can hit him in the shins if you want”. That would have satisfied me right then and if she’d said it to me I might have.
The ride wasn’t over though and we rode down a couple more screamers (I reached a top speed of 43.5 mph and could have gotten more but thought better of it and braked slightly to slow. A downhill like that almost always means a similar climbs are coming and they did. All the way into Dubuque. The name must mean “the city of hills”.
We came to Clarke College next to Dubuque Senior High School where I had competed as a high school wrestler more than 50 years ago. A beautiful limestone rock building on a hilltop looked like a high school should look, I think. Not a modern, functional boxlike building but a solid structure where learning could be accomplished surrounded by architectural beauty.
Our instructions were to meet and wait til noon and then ride together down into the city and to the river to dip our front tire in the Mississippi to complete the ride that started with our rear tire dip in the Missouri 7 days previous.
We shared stories of success and failure. Ann did the hill; Tim didn’t. I wasn’t surprised that Ann was successful. Others had similar stories of success but all were satisfied, I think. A couple rode it after being forced to stop briefly by riders in front suddenly stopping in front. When you are riding hard up a hill at less than 3mph and someone stops in front of you, you will stop too or hit them. To my mind, restarting from that point would be the most difficult thing imaginable, but they were able to do that and get to the top successfully.
We rode into downtown Dubuque. It was a wonderful feeling to see the Coe College group riding together with our team jerseys on going down to the Mississippi where we walked to the water, posed for pictures and then went to a grassy hillside for a final team shot and began to disband, going our separate ways.
Barbara and her sister Jody were there. We walked back downtown to our truck, loaded the bike in and went to the Budget truck to collect the camping gear, say our farewells, and head to Jody’s.
This was a week of good fun. I’ve made new friends, reconnected with the college of my youth and ridden across the state that I call my homestate.
It was wonderful. It wasn’t the longest or the toughest RAGBRAI ever, but I think as my second one, it was the best. Isn’t that the way it is, though. The most recent experience is almost always the best. I’ll remember it always and hold it dearest til the next one.
The final day’s ride was in our minds the entire trip because of the promise of the toughest hill on the trip: Potter’s Hill. It is a one mile long, up to 19 degree (so they said) climb that promised to challenge even the most fit, youthful rider. So when I awoke on Saturday to overcast skies and cool temperatures I was pleased. Potter’s Hill was one of the last obstacles we would encounter, occurring within a few miles of the outskirts of Dubuque and heat and overpowering sunshine weren’t going to help.
My occasional riding partners Doug and Ron had left the group the night before to return to Cedar Rapids for a family reunion, so I would be on my own for most of the ride. I left after packing up at about 7 am, a little later than normal, and rode east toward the first way point on the map, Earlville, Iowa.
I have been to Earlville many times as a young man. It was the nearest town, I think, to our favorite summer place, Lake Delhi, which now lay bereft of its water following the dam failure of a week ago. I didn’t plan to stop but once on this ride and Earlville wasn’t the place so I rode on with my battery powered taillight flashing. I rode slowly enjoying the foggy landscape with its rolling hills so typical of eastern Iowa. I also thought constantly of conserving energy because Potter’s Hill was looming.
Dyersville was roughly halfway to Dubuque and that was my planned stop. My neice, Kim, works at a restaurant there and I hoped to have breakfast there. We rode into town passed a large processing plant that smelled like yeast. A short jog beneath the railroad tracks put us on the outskirts of Dyersville where we crossed a small stream that a week earlier had obviously been a very large stream and had flooded the area.
Up a hill and into downtown Dyersville where there was a small sign saying “Country Junction, breakfast, 2 miles ahead”. That was Kim’s place but I realized it was going to take me more than a mile off the route and leaving the route wasn’t something I would do on this final day.
I rode slowly through the downtown finally dismounting and walking to where the route turned to the right. I parked my bike on the hillside and walked back into town. I got a coffee and Danish at a coffee shop. I loaded it with four shots of espresso for the climb ahead and went back to my bike. On the way there were two guys dressed in White Sox uniforms from the period depicted in the film “Field of Dreams” that was shot here in Dyersville. It is the most famous attraction in Dyersville, although I might think that the beautiful Basilica there would provide serious competition. Anyway, with cornstalks as the background, I had my picture taken with them.
Then back to the hillside where I sat down to enjoy my coffee and rest for the climb ahead. People watching is great at RAGBRAI and as I thought there listening to an eclectic music selection playing from loudspeakers across the street, I thought about this wonderful event and all the interesting people I have met and seen. Imagine bicycles and riders walking by that hillside four and more across beginning probably at 6 AM and continuing non stop until sometime in the afternoon. That is what you see if you are an observer sitting on the hillside of one of the pass-through towns when RAGBRAI comes through. It is one of the amazing things about the event; the sheer volume of riders that participate – some 10 to 15,000 of them on any given day. They are riding every kind of one, two, three and more wheeled bicycles (“bi” doesn’t seem right to describe them). From unicycles to old fashioned with one very large wheel and one very small one behind, to single speed old fashioned Schwinn’s of my youth, to six passenger “tandems” and recumbents of every configuration imagineable, to an elyptical bicycle, they stream by you. Parents with children in trailers, families traveling on tandems modified so the children can reach the pedals and participate, ride by each pedaling and pulling their weight as they cross this verdant and beautiful state.
I have to say I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it and as the music changed to the first mvmt of the Haydn Trumpet I got up and pedaled off with one final shot of the twin spires of the Basilica framed by an alleyway at the top of the Dyersville hill. There was no going back, Potter’s Hill lay ahead and I hoped I had the strength and ability to make the climb.
Riding out of town we passed the site of the Field of Dreams where riders were relaxing, playing ball, and enjoying the scene. I kept pedaling and met up with Tim and Ann for the first time on the ride. From Utah with Iowa roots, Tim and I had enjoyed many conversations in the mornings and evenings but hadn’t ridden together. For several miles we rode and it was obvious to me that Ann had the climbing ability to give her a chance at the hill. The terrain became a little more severe, there were over 2400 feet of climb during the short 47 miles of ride with almost all of it in the final miles.
We turned left onto a curving road, the first that I recall on the entire route. We rode a ridge road up and down hills with small climbs of 100 feet here and there just tempting us for the difficult time ahead.
I looked to my left, I was overwhelmed with the view. There was a valley way below us with a winding road at its base and another road marginally visible rising up the other side. That must be it.
All I could think of was the 23rd Psalm. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For Thy rod and Thy staff are with me.”
Here we go.
Down a screamer of a hill we wound into the basin into a small town at the base of the climb. A quick stop to adjust the tension on my shoes and out of town. They had paved the road recently so it was glass smooth coming through the town. We turned right and the handpainted sign said “Potter’s Hill, 19 degrees”. I didn’t really need that. I knew from reading about the hill that it had a false finish with a left turn and that when I got there I’d have another 1/3 of a mile to go to the top.
I looked up. There was no chance to get momentum. Most of the riders I could see had dismounted and were walking filling the right lane of the two lane road. I downshifted and began my climb.
I wear a heart rate monitor when I ride and I have a rule for my own safety that I will not ride more than a moment or two when my heart rate gets above 170 bpm. At my age it really isn’t safe. Up the hill I climbed and sweat was pouring off my forehead, arms, legs and anywhere else where sweat can leave your body.
I wore through the caffeine energy, through the energy bars I’d gobbled, through the Gatorade in my bottles, and through whatever reserves I had and I still wasn’t to the turn. I was more than halfway up the mountain though and passed David on his recumbent. I don’t know how recumbent riders can possibly make this hill. They fly down hills at great speed and then slowly make their way up the next one, wobbling their way skyward. I was too much for my friend and he and his daughter, who were riding together, put their feet on the pavement and began walking like most of those climbing.
A glance at my computer and I could see I was close to my heart rate limit. I wasn’t going to make it. It was time to stand on the pegs and really push but there was the 170 on the monitor and I had to get off, just short of the left turn that would have put the top in site and might have let me find enough energy to ride to the top.
Oh well, I’ll live to ride another day and another hill if I follow the rules. Off I went and walked the rest of the way.
Most of us walked and cheered those who could still pedal on their way with words of encouragement. We felt so good for them and really so bad for our inability to do the ride ourselves.
As I got closer to the top, the hill flattened slightly so I could remount and ride over the crest to the cheers of those watching at the top (no for me but for those who rode all the way). Someone on a loudspeaker was shouting, “This is Potter’s Hill. My father name is Potter. It is named for him. You can have your picture taken with him”.
Andy later said he called back that he didn’t want to do that and had something else in mind and the lady with the loudspeaker put the speaker down and said to him, “then you can hit him in the shins if you want”. That would have satisfied me right then and if she’d said it to me I might have.
The ride wasn’t over though and we rode down a couple more screamers (I reached a top speed of 43.5 mph and could have gotten more but thought better of it and braked slightly to slow. A downhill like that almost always means a similar climbs are coming and they did. All the way into Dubuque. The name must mean “the city of hills”.
We came to Clarke College next to Dubuque Senior High School where I had competed as a high school wrestler more than 50 years ago. A beautiful limestone rock building on a hilltop looked like a high school should look, I think. Not a modern, functional boxlike building but a solid structure where learning could be accomplished surrounded by architectural beauty.
Our instructions were to meet and wait til noon and then ride together down into the city and to the river to dip our front tire in the Mississippi to complete the ride that started with our rear tire dip in the Missouri 7 days previous.
We shared stories of success and failure. Ann did the hill; Tim didn’t. I wasn’t surprised that Ann was successful. Others had similar stories of success but all were satisfied, I think. A couple rode it after being forced to stop briefly by riders in front suddenly stopping in front. When you are riding hard up a hill at less than 3mph and someone stops in front of you, you will stop too or hit them. To my mind, restarting from that point would be the most difficult thing imaginable, but they were able to do that and get to the top successfully.
We rode into downtown Dubuque. It was a wonderful feeling to see the Coe College group riding together with our team jerseys on going down to the Mississippi where we walked to the water, posed for pictures and then went to a grassy hillside for a final team shot and began to disband, going our separate ways.
Barbara and her sister Jody were there. We walked back downtown to our truck, loaded the bike in and went to the Budget truck to collect the camping gear, say our farewells, and head to Jody’s.
This was a week of good fun. I’ve made new friends, reconnected with the college of my youth and ridden across the state that I call my homestate.
It was wonderful. It wasn’t the longest or the toughest RAGBRAI ever, but I think as my second one, it was the best. Isn’t that the way it is, though. The most recent experience is almost always the best. I’ll remember it always and hold it dearest til the next one.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Friday, July 30 ride, Waterloo to Manchester
Today’s journey to Manchester from Waterloo looked fairly easy on the map. A couple of thousand feet of climb over a 61 mile route didn’t sound too tough. Unfortunately mother nature figured heavily into the ride today.
When we went to bed we knew some weather was forecast. In fact we expected a shower at 11 pm that didn’t materialize. And the next day was 40 to 60% chance of intermittent showers for the day.
I left at 7 AM and the rain began. I rode about 4.5 miles in the rain from our host’s location until I was able to join the route near the Waterloo Water Park. It was just sprinkling by this time so when I got to Gilbertville I thought it was a good idea to stop for biscuits and gravy and a banana at the American Legion.
When I came out I heard thunder so I got on the bike and headed east rapidly trying to outrun the thunderstorm. The rain picked up until it was really coming down and the lightning was flashing around us. It was pretty spectacular. It teased us by dropping back to a sprinkle and I thought we might be alright. The sky lightened up,
Then “Wham”, a spectacular bolt of lightning struck about a half mile in front of us near a radio or tv tower and the rain began in earnest. It didn’t stop for 4 hours.
It is hard to describe riding this long (4 hours and 56 minutes) in a steady and sometimes driving rain with all those other riders. It was absolutely numbing. The miles just went by as you put your head down and pedaled away
Fortunately the road was good and the hills, though reoccurring on a regular basis, weren’t overwhelming – at least while it was raining.
I really felt sorry for the kids and groups who had set up shop along the way expecting to sell us beverages or food because we weren’t stopping for anything. We wound through the countryside (nearly all roads in Iowa run either north/south or /east west) until we came to a town where the call of nature and hunger forced me to stop. I was also out of liquids and the last thing you want to do on a multi day ride is to get dehydrated.
So Rowley got the benefit of my money with a chicken sandwich from the Tyson booth and a refill of liquids. Soaked doesn’t describe the day. As David said, “It just rained and got cold and then it got windy”.
I stalled a bit and then got back on the cold bike and pedaled on my way, determined not to stop again until I was at our Manchester host home. We’d come 35 miles to Rowley and there was about 30 more to go according to the map.
Through Quasqueton I pedaled even though it did look like a place where I would have liked to stop for a while. We had earlier crossed the Cedar River which was severely swollen from the previous rains. The Wapsie in Quasqy was also pretty full as I crossed it. No stopping and on I went. It really was a dreary day of riding without much of interest to report. I think it might have been more interesting, no, I know it would have been more interesting, if it had been sunny. The land we were riding through was the farmland of my youth and I could have enjoyed it if only the weather had been better.
I did reminisce a bit about my grandfather and going to some of the areas with him when he whitewashed barns or sprayed them with DDT to get rid of the flies, or sprayed barnyards for weeds with something akin to agent orange, I’m sure.
But mostly it was head down and pedal.
Finally we got to Winthrop, the last town before Manchester, about 15 miles to go according to the map. As we turned east, the rain stopped, but the wind slammed us in the face at what seemed like 20 mile an hour blast that set the flags out straight and the corn waving. And there were some decent hills to climb over the last miles too.
Finally into Manchester we came, across the Maquoketa River that had put Manchester in the national news only six days ago with a major flood. We could see what a sorry state it left some of the homes as we crossed the river.
Into the town we came and I had the chance to relax, take a shower at the nearby high school, and go visit an old family friend, Norma Hadrava, who drove up from Cedar Rapids with her daughter.
Then I got a message from a former business associate, Rick Werth, who now lives in Des Moines. He is riding tomorrow with his wife, daughter and son in law. We worked on Northern Telecom programs together for many years. He came to our host home and we talked for some time. It was good to see him and meet his family.
Our hosts brought us wonderful food tonight that they prepare. We had brats and burgers.
Tomorrow we finish in Dubuque, so rain or not it will be over. All is dried. I hope it can stay that way. We will say our goodbyes to our new friends and Barb and I will head home.
Oh, Barbara? Sounds like she’s not going to ride any with me after all. Maybe next year.
Remember, I just rode hard n a really crummy day but I didn’t have it near as bad as lots of folks in the Clemmons area who need your help. So send some money, maybe $68fo match the number of miles I rode today. Or $442 for the advertised route mileage for the week. Send your check to the Clemmons Food Pantry, c/o Clemmons Methodist Church, Clemmons, NC 27012 and mark “Roger’s Ride” on the check.
Thanks. I’ll post something tomorrow.Today’s journey to Manchester from Waterloo looked fairly easy on the map. A couple of thousand feet of climb over a 61 mile route didn’t sound too tough. Unfortunately mother nature figured heavily into the ride today.
When we went to bed we knew some weather was forecast. In fact we expected a shower at 11 pm that didn’t materialize. And the next day was 40 to 60% chance of intermittent showers for the day.
I left at 7 AM and the rain began. I rode about 4.5 miles in the rain from our host’s location until I was able to join the route near the Waterloo Water Park. It was just sprinkling by this time so when I got to Gilbertville I thought it was a good idea to stop for biscuits and gravy and a banana at the American Legion.
When I came out I heard thunder so I got on the bike and headed east rapidly trying to outrun the thunderstorm. The rain picked up until it was really coming down and the lightning was flashing around us. It was pretty spectacular. It teased us by dropping back to a sprinkle and I thought we might be alright. The sky lightened up,
Then “Wham”, a spectacular bolt of lightning struck about a half mile in front of us near a radio or tv tower and the rain began in earnest. It didn’t stop for 4 hours.
It is hard to describe riding this long (4 hours and 56 minutes) in a steady and sometimes driving rain with all those other riders. It was absolutely numbing. The miles just went by as you put your head down and pedaled away
Fortunately the road was good and the hills, though reoccurring on a regular basis, weren’t overwhelming – at least while it was raining.
I really felt sorry for the kids and groups who had set up shop along the way expecting to sell us beverages or food because we weren’t stopping for anything. We wound through the countryside (nearly all roads in Iowa run either north/south or /east west) until we came to a town where the call of nature and hunger forced me to stop. I was also out of liquids and the last thing you want to do on a multi day ride is to get dehydrated.
So Rowley got the benefit of my money with a chicken sandwich from the Tyson booth and a refill of liquids. Soaked doesn’t describe the day. As David said, “It just rained and got cold and then it got windy”.
I stalled a bit and then got back on the cold bike and pedaled on my way, determined not to stop again until I was at our Manchester host home. We’d come 35 miles to Rowley and there was about 30 more to go according to the map.
Through Quasqueton I pedaled even though it did look like a place where I would have liked to stop for a while. We had earlier crossed the Cedar River which was severely swollen from the previous rains. The Wapsie in Quasqy was also pretty full as I crossed it. No stopping and on I went. It really was a dreary day of riding without much of interest to report. I think it might have been more interesting, no, I know it would have been more interesting, if it had been sunny. The land we were riding through was the farmland of my youth and I could have enjoyed it if only the weather had been better.
I did reminisce a bit about my grandfather and going to some of the areas with him when he whitewashed barns or sprayed them with DDT to get rid of the flies, or sprayed barnyards for weeds with something akin to agent orange, I’m sure.
But mostly it was head down and pedal.
Finally we got to Winthrop, the last town before Manchester, about 15 miles to go according to the map. As we turned east, the rain stopped, but the wind slammed us in the face at what seemed like 20 mile an hour blast that set the flags out straight and the corn waving. And there were some decent hills to climb over the last miles too.
Finally into Manchester we came, across the Maquoketa River that had put Manchester in the national news only six days ago with a major flood. We could see what a sorry state it left some of the homes as we crossed the river.
Into the town we came and I had the chance to relax, take a shower at the nearby high school, and go visit an old family friend, Norma Hadrava, who drove up from Cedar Rapids with her daughter.
Then I got a message from a former business associate, Rick Werth, who now lives in Des Moines. He is riding tomorrow with his wife, daughter and son in law. We worked on Northern Telecom programs together for many years. He came to our host home and we talked for some time. It was good to see him and meet his family.
Our hosts brought us wonderful food tonight that they prepare. We had brats and burgers.
Tomorrow we finish in Dubuque, so rain or not it will be over. All is dried. I hope it can stay that way. We will say our goodbyes to our new friends and Barb and I will head home.
Oh, Barbara? Sounds like she’s not going to ride any with me after all. Maybe next year.
Remember, I just rode hard n a really crummy day but I didn’t have it near as bad as lots of folks in the Clemmons area who need your help. So send some money, maybe $68 to match the number of miles I rode today. Or $442 for the advertised route mileage for the week. Send your check to the Clemmons Food Pantry, c/o Clemmons Methodist Church, Clemmons, NC 27012 and mark “Roger’s Ride” on the check.
Thanks. I’ll post something tomorrow.
When we went to bed we knew some weather was forecast. In fact we expected a shower at 11 pm that didn’t materialize. And the next day was 40 to 60% chance of intermittent showers for the day.
I left at 7 AM and the rain began. I rode about 4.5 miles in the rain from our host’s location until I was able to join the route near the Waterloo Water Park. It was just sprinkling by this time so when I got to Gilbertville I thought it was a good idea to stop for biscuits and gravy and a banana at the American Legion.
When I came out I heard thunder so I got on the bike and headed east rapidly trying to outrun the thunderstorm. The rain picked up until it was really coming down and the lightning was flashing around us. It was pretty spectacular. It teased us by dropping back to a sprinkle and I thought we might be alright. The sky lightened up,
Then “Wham”, a spectacular bolt of lightning struck about a half mile in front of us near a radio or tv tower and the rain began in earnest. It didn’t stop for 4 hours.
It is hard to describe riding this long (4 hours and 56 minutes) in a steady and sometimes driving rain with all those other riders. It was absolutely numbing. The miles just went by as you put your head down and pedaled away
Fortunately the road was good and the hills, though reoccurring on a regular basis, weren’t overwhelming – at least while it was raining.
I really felt sorry for the kids and groups who had set up shop along the way expecting to sell us beverages or food because we weren’t stopping for anything. We wound through the countryside (nearly all roads in Iowa run either north/south or /east west) until we came to a town where the call of nature and hunger forced me to stop. I was also out of liquids and the last thing you want to do on a multi day ride is to get dehydrated.
So Rowley got the benefit of my money with a chicken sandwich from the Tyson booth and a refill of liquids. Soaked doesn’t describe the day. As David said, “It just rained and got cold and then it got windy”.
I stalled a bit and then got back on the cold bike and pedaled on my way, determined not to stop again until I was at our Manchester host home. We’d come 35 miles to Rowley and there was about 30 more to go according to the map.
Through Quasqueton I pedaled even though it did look like a place where I would have liked to stop for a while. We had earlier crossed the Cedar River which was severely swollen from the previous rains. The Wapsie in Quasqy was also pretty full as I crossed it. No stopping and on I went. It really was a dreary day of riding without much of interest to report. I think it might have been more interesting, no, I know it would have been more interesting, if it had been sunny. The land we were riding through was the farmland of my youth and I could have enjoyed it if only the weather had been better.
I did reminisce a bit about my grandfather and going to some of the areas with him when he whitewashed barns or sprayed them with DDT to get rid of the flies, or sprayed barnyards for weeds with something akin to agent orange, I’m sure.
But mostly it was head down and pedal.
Finally we got to Winthrop, the last town before Manchester, about 15 miles to go according to the map. As we turned east, the rain stopped, but the wind slammed us in the face at what seemed like 20 mile an hour blast that set the flags out straight and the corn waving. And there were some decent hills to climb over the last miles too.
Finally into Manchester we came, across the Maquoketa River that had put Manchester in the national news only six days ago with a major flood. We could see what a sorry state it left some of the homes as we crossed the river.
Into the town we came and I had the chance to relax, take a shower at the nearby high school, and go visit an old family friend, Norma Hadrava, who drove up from Cedar Rapids with her daughter.
Then I got a message from a former business associate, Rick Werth, who now lives in Des Moines. He is riding tomorrow with his wife, daughter and son in law. We worked on Northern Telecom programs together for many years. He came to our host home and we talked for some time. It was good to see him and meet his family.
Our hosts brought us wonderful food tonight that they prepare. We had brats and burgers.
Tomorrow we finish in Dubuque, so rain or not it will be over. All is dried. I hope it can stay that way. We will say our goodbyes to our new friends and Barb and I will head home.
Oh, Barbara? Sounds like she’s not going to ride any with me after all. Maybe next year.
Remember, I just rode hard n a really crummy day but I didn’t have it near as bad as lots of folks in the Clemmons area who need your help. So send some money, maybe $68fo match the number of miles I rode today. Or $442 for the advertised route mileage for the week. Send your check to the Clemmons Food Pantry, c/o Clemmons Methodist Church, Clemmons, NC 27012 and mark “Roger’s Ride” on the check.
Thanks. I’ll post something tomorrow.Today’s journey to Manchester from Waterloo looked fairly easy on the map. A couple of thousand feet of climb over a 61 mile route didn’t sound too tough. Unfortunately mother nature figured heavily into the ride today.
When we went to bed we knew some weather was forecast. In fact we expected a shower at 11 pm that didn’t materialize. And the next day was 40 to 60% chance of intermittent showers for the day.
I left at 7 AM and the rain began. I rode about 4.5 miles in the rain from our host’s location until I was able to join the route near the Waterloo Water Park. It was just sprinkling by this time so when I got to Gilbertville I thought it was a good idea to stop for biscuits and gravy and a banana at the American Legion.
When I came out I heard thunder so I got on the bike and headed east rapidly trying to outrun the thunderstorm. The rain picked up until it was really coming down and the lightning was flashing around us. It was pretty spectacular. It teased us by dropping back to a sprinkle and I thought we might be alright. The sky lightened up,
Then “Wham”, a spectacular bolt of lightning struck about a half mile in front of us near a radio or tv tower and the rain began in earnest. It didn’t stop for 4 hours.
It is hard to describe riding this long (4 hours and 56 minutes) in a steady and sometimes driving rain with all those other riders. It was absolutely numbing. The miles just went by as you put your head down and pedaled away
Fortunately the road was good and the hills, though reoccurring on a regular basis, weren’t overwhelming – at least while it was raining.
I really felt sorry for the kids and groups who had set up shop along the way expecting to sell us beverages or food because we weren’t stopping for anything. We wound through the countryside (nearly all roads in Iowa run either north/south or /east west) until we came to a town where the call of nature and hunger forced me to stop. I was also out of liquids and the last thing you want to do on a multi day ride is to get dehydrated.
So Rowley got the benefit of my money with a chicken sandwich from the Tyson booth and a refill of liquids. Soaked doesn’t describe the day. As David said, “It just rained and got cold and then it got windy”.
I stalled a bit and then got back on the cold bike and pedaled on my way, determined not to stop again until I was at our Manchester host home. We’d come 35 miles to Rowley and there was about 30 more to go according to the map.
Through Quasqueton I pedaled even though it did look like a place where I would have liked to stop for a while. We had earlier crossed the Cedar River which was severely swollen from the previous rains. The Wapsie in Quasqy was also pretty full as I crossed it. No stopping and on I went. It really was a dreary day of riding without much of interest to report. I think it might have been more interesting, no, I know it would have been more interesting, if it had been sunny. The land we were riding through was the farmland of my youth and I could have enjoyed it if only the weather had been better.
I did reminisce a bit about my grandfather and going to some of the areas with him when he whitewashed barns or sprayed them with DDT to get rid of the flies, or sprayed barnyards for weeds with something akin to agent orange, I’m sure.
But mostly it was head down and pedal.
Finally we got to Winthrop, the last town before Manchester, about 15 miles to go according to the map. As we turned east, the rain stopped, but the wind slammed us in the face at what seemed like 20 mile an hour blast that set the flags out straight and the corn waving. And there were some decent hills to climb over the last miles too.
Finally into Manchester we came, across the Maquoketa River that had put Manchester in the national news only six days ago with a major flood. We could see what a sorry state it left some of the homes as we crossed the river.
Into the town we came and I had the chance to relax, take a shower at the nearby high school, and go visit an old family friend, Norma Hadrava, who drove up from Cedar Rapids with her daughter.
Then I got a message from a former business associate, Rick Werth, who now lives in Des Moines. He is riding tomorrow with his wife, daughter and son in law. We worked on Northern Telecom programs together for many years. He came to our host home and we talked for some time. It was good to see him and meet his family.
Our hosts brought us wonderful food tonight that they prepare. We had brats and burgers.
Tomorrow we finish in Dubuque, so rain or not it will be over. All is dried. I hope it can stay that way. We will say our goodbyes to our new friends and Barb and I will head home.
Oh, Barbara? Sounds like she’s not going to ride any with me after all. Maybe next year.
Remember, I just rode hard n a really crummy day but I didn’t have it near as bad as lots of folks in the Clemmons area who need your help. So send some money, maybe $68 to match the number of miles I rode today. Or $442 for the advertised route mileage for the week. Send your check to the Clemmons Food Pantry, c/o Clemmons Methodist Church, Clemmons, NC 27012 and mark “Roger’s Ride” on the check.
Thanks. I’ll post something tomorrow.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Thursday, July 29, Charles City to Waterloo
On Thursday we rode from Charles City to Waterloo, a distance of about 88 miles the way we were routed. Waterloo is generally south southeast from Chucktown and the day was spectacular for bike riding.
The penultimate stop of the day was scheduled to be the small town of Dike. This town is very special to Barbara and me. It is the childhood home of one of our favorite former coworkers: Alicia Hansen Burdick. Alicia’s mother and father are Curt and Alice and I told them I’d stop by on the bike ride and that I’d be there about noon. Curt is a former race car driver who I’ve known for 4 decades. We are both members of the Hawkeye Downs “Wall of Fame” of the speedway in my hometown of Cedar Rapids.
The budget folks delivered our new truck at about 11 pm and it is a nice one that should serve us well for the remainder of the trip.
As I slept in my tent last night someone set of their car alarm not once but twice. Must have been about 3 AM, so I slept before and after that but not quite as well afterwards. I woke up at 5 and got ready to leave which I did just before 6 knowing I’d probably be in Dike before my scheduled time. I’d figure out how to handle that enroute but couldn’t call the Hansen’s because Verizon’s service is really spotty in this part of northern Iowa. So away I rode, the second person in the group to leave Charles City.
The road the RAGBRAI organizers sent us on was newly paved and very smooth. I felt like every pedal stroke I made moved me forward by using 100% of the energy I put into the stroke without any loss from bumps or from dodging cracks in the pavement. I was averaging 20 mph for the first10 to 12 miles until we left the county and got onto less perfect roads although they still were plenty smooth. Overall these roads for the first 40 miles of the ride were the smoothest of the entire 300 miles of our journey so far.
Doug and Ron joined me on the road and we clipped along quickly to the first town where we stopped for breakfast of scrambled eggs with French toast, cinnamon, whipped cream and cherries. While we ate four other team members joined us and we watched the crowd of riders walk through town, checking for characters. Saw my first guy with a thong and bike shoes, that’s all. Not sure I’d do that. It can’t be comfortable to ride clothed like that and besides I’m not sure thongs are becoming to me. He sure lit up the cameras in the crowd though so if he was seeking attention (surprise) he got it.
20 miles later we arrived in Parkersburg, a town in Iowa that has had its share of tragedy in the past two years. On May 28, 2008 an EF5 tornado struck the town, leveling half of the village and killing 7 people. Then last year their popular and nationally known high school football coach was killed by a former student and son of the coaches family friends. It was a tragedy that was documented nationally and also affected this small town.
I think RAGBRAI made special effort to go through this town this year. The town absolutely turned out for the event with statues made of discarded bike parts, great food stands, flags and music to entertain us. Then as we rode out of town we climbed a hill and entered the devastated portion of the town. Not a tree in site, no original buildings at all, and every home and business there was newly built. The families sat in their front yards greeting us and I was impressed how beautifully the homes were landscaped and the fresh appearance of this part of town, the half that was completely destroyed. As we rode east and then south I could easily see the path of this tornadic monster by the complete lack of trees. Curt Hansen told me later that when he went to help he saw big trees with nothing but the trunk of the tree standing, no limbs, no bark, nothing – all torn off by the twister.
I stalled for some time in Parkersburg before riding off so I didn’t arrive too early in Dike. I called Barb to see if she was going to meet me in Dike to ride to Waterloo and found out she had food poisoning from dinner the night before and couldn’t make the trip today. I windowshopped and strolled through the town before enjoying some water and a frozen fruit cup offered by students from a nearby school. I walked back to my bike and headed south.
We rode through Stout where there was more food although I didn’t stop because I figured Alice would have something. The temperature had begun to rise a little bit and the wind picked up ever so slightly from the South Southeast so occasionally I had a headwind, but it was inconsequential. The terrain was rolling all day with little flat area, mostly either uphill or down. There were times it looked like the rolling hills of a Grant Wood painting.
I was able to easily keep up a good pace and carried a 16 mph or more average all the way to Dike where I asked a Deputy Sheriff where Curt and Alice lived. He directed me to the house and I rolled up about noon. Curt was watching for me and took me inside to see their wonderful house where Alicia and Bobby Hansen grew up. Curt remodeled it a few years ago and Alice and Alicia designed a trophy room to display his considerable collection of winner’s trophies and memorabilia. It is beautifully done.
And surprise Alice made a rhubarb pie. Who would have guessed! She also made Danish coffee which I hadn’t enjoyed in years. It is made with by putting an egg in the water along with the grounds, altogether in the pot, and boiled. Then you strain out the grounds and the coffee is smooth and delicious. We also had some fresh lemonade. But mostly we talked about the memories we have and about our children and our plans for the future. Curt was interested in the mechanics of the bike so afterwards we went outside and I showed him how it all worked. It wouldn’t surprise me to see him take on RAGBRAI some day. I’d love to have him ride with me.
After about an hour and a half off I went for the final run to Waterloo. We went through Hudson before heading into Waterloo and I stopped for a pork burger. The town was themed as a pirate town in honor of their high school athletic teams, the Pirates. They had a pirate ship as we entered town with lots of folks dressed the part and saying, “Arrrgh”.
Then on to Waterloo where our group directions called for us to turn off the route onto a gravel road enroute to our overnight home. I and nearly all the others elected to find a different way to get there. In my case I rode to the end of the route (82 miles) and kept on going past the water park and the casino until I came to a street with a name I recognized. A quick stop at the fire station gave me the directions to the house and I arrived with an 88 mile ride at 16 mph average.
They have a swimming pool! It didn’t take me long to get into my trunks and into the pool followed by a stop in the hot tub with the jets wide open making my tired muscles feel so much better. They served us a wonderful dinner of ribs, lasagna, fruit, salads and desert
This ride was entirely enjoyable, not too strenuous, and decently interesting. It looks like my phone is working better now so I’ll make use of it before I go to bed to get some sleep. It is on to Manchester tomorrow where we hope we won’t have problems with the floods of last weekend.
I’ll let you know tomorrow.
The penultimate stop of the day was scheduled to be the small town of Dike. This town is very special to Barbara and me. It is the childhood home of one of our favorite former coworkers: Alicia Hansen Burdick. Alicia’s mother and father are Curt and Alice and I told them I’d stop by on the bike ride and that I’d be there about noon. Curt is a former race car driver who I’ve known for 4 decades. We are both members of the Hawkeye Downs “Wall of Fame” of the speedway in my hometown of Cedar Rapids.
The budget folks delivered our new truck at about 11 pm and it is a nice one that should serve us well for the remainder of the trip.
As I slept in my tent last night someone set of their car alarm not once but twice. Must have been about 3 AM, so I slept before and after that but not quite as well afterwards. I woke up at 5 and got ready to leave which I did just before 6 knowing I’d probably be in Dike before my scheduled time. I’d figure out how to handle that enroute but couldn’t call the Hansen’s because Verizon’s service is really spotty in this part of northern Iowa. So away I rode, the second person in the group to leave Charles City.
The road the RAGBRAI organizers sent us on was newly paved and very smooth. I felt like every pedal stroke I made moved me forward by using 100% of the energy I put into the stroke without any loss from bumps or from dodging cracks in the pavement. I was averaging 20 mph for the first10 to 12 miles until we left the county and got onto less perfect roads although they still were plenty smooth. Overall these roads for the first 40 miles of the ride were the smoothest of the entire 300 miles of our journey so far.
Doug and Ron joined me on the road and we clipped along quickly to the first town where we stopped for breakfast of scrambled eggs with French toast, cinnamon, whipped cream and cherries. While we ate four other team members joined us and we watched the crowd of riders walk through town, checking for characters. Saw my first guy with a thong and bike shoes, that’s all. Not sure I’d do that. It can’t be comfortable to ride clothed like that and besides I’m not sure thongs are becoming to me. He sure lit up the cameras in the crowd though so if he was seeking attention (surprise) he got it.
20 miles later we arrived in Parkersburg, a town in Iowa that has had its share of tragedy in the past two years. On May 28, 2008 an EF5 tornado struck the town, leveling half of the village and killing 7 people. Then last year their popular and nationally known high school football coach was killed by a former student and son of the coaches family friends. It was a tragedy that was documented nationally and also affected this small town.
I think RAGBRAI made special effort to go through this town this year. The town absolutely turned out for the event with statues made of discarded bike parts, great food stands, flags and music to entertain us. Then as we rode out of town we climbed a hill and entered the devastated portion of the town. Not a tree in site, no original buildings at all, and every home and business there was newly built. The families sat in their front yards greeting us and I was impressed how beautifully the homes were landscaped and the fresh appearance of this part of town, the half that was completely destroyed. As we rode east and then south I could easily see the path of this tornadic monster by the complete lack of trees. Curt Hansen told me later that when he went to help he saw big trees with nothing but the trunk of the tree standing, no limbs, no bark, nothing – all torn off by the twister.
I stalled for some time in Parkersburg before riding off so I didn’t arrive too early in Dike. I called Barb to see if she was going to meet me in Dike to ride to Waterloo and found out she had food poisoning from dinner the night before and couldn’t make the trip today. I windowshopped and strolled through the town before enjoying some water and a frozen fruit cup offered by students from a nearby school. I walked back to my bike and headed south.
We rode through Stout where there was more food although I didn’t stop because I figured Alice would have something. The temperature had begun to rise a little bit and the wind picked up ever so slightly from the South Southeast so occasionally I had a headwind, but it was inconsequential. The terrain was rolling all day with little flat area, mostly either uphill or down. There were times it looked like the rolling hills of a Grant Wood painting.
I was able to easily keep up a good pace and carried a 16 mph or more average all the way to Dike where I asked a Deputy Sheriff where Curt and Alice lived. He directed me to the house and I rolled up about noon. Curt was watching for me and took me inside to see their wonderful house where Alicia and Bobby Hansen grew up. Curt remodeled it a few years ago and Alice and Alicia designed a trophy room to display his considerable collection of winner’s trophies and memorabilia. It is beautifully done.
And surprise Alice made a rhubarb pie. Who would have guessed! She also made Danish coffee which I hadn’t enjoyed in years. It is made with by putting an egg in the water along with the grounds, altogether in the pot, and boiled. Then you strain out the grounds and the coffee is smooth and delicious. We also had some fresh lemonade. But mostly we talked about the memories we have and about our children and our plans for the future. Curt was interested in the mechanics of the bike so afterwards we went outside and I showed him how it all worked. It wouldn’t surprise me to see him take on RAGBRAI some day. I’d love to have him ride with me.
After about an hour and a half off I went for the final run to Waterloo. We went through Hudson before heading into Waterloo and I stopped for a pork burger. The town was themed as a pirate town in honor of their high school athletic teams, the Pirates. They had a pirate ship as we entered town with lots of folks dressed the part and saying, “Arrrgh”.
Then on to Waterloo where our group directions called for us to turn off the route onto a gravel road enroute to our overnight home. I and nearly all the others elected to find a different way to get there. In my case I rode to the end of the route (82 miles) and kept on going past the water park and the casino until I came to a street with a name I recognized. A quick stop at the fire station gave me the directions to the house and I arrived with an 88 mile ride at 16 mph average.
They have a swimming pool! It didn’t take me long to get into my trunks and into the pool followed by a stop in the hot tub with the jets wide open making my tired muscles feel so much better. They served us a wonderful dinner of ribs, lasagna, fruit, salads and desert
This ride was entirely enjoyable, not too strenuous, and decently interesting. It looks like my phone is working better now so I’ll make use of it before I go to bed to get some sleep. It is on to Manchester tomorrow where we hope we won’t have problems with the floods of last weekend.
I’ll let you know tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, Clear Lake to Charles City
First, ignore some of the titles of the posts. Dates and cities are incorrect. Also some of the posts are not here anymore. Don't know what happened but will try to recreate later.
When we got to Clear Lake we were obviously hot and exhausted so I showered (no hot water was left to be had but cold felt really good) and a group of us went to find something to eat after resting for a while. By the time we got to the Lutheran church and then to the Methodist church there was no food remaining. Then on to other commercial locations. Same story or lines so long I wasn't interested. I returned to camp and found others with the same dilemma so we got bread and bologna at the grocery store and ate just fine. Then to bed.
Anyway, here is the story of the ride on Wednesday from Clear Lake to Charles City.
It rained an inch last night with lots of lightning and thunder so I left a little later than usual for today's ride. An 8 AM start sent me south out of Clear Lake with an overcast sky and a wonderful tail wind. Ran 20 to 21 mph to the first turn off where one of our group said her mother was waiting for us with cinnamon rolls. Sure enough Judy's mother had driven from Minnesota with delicious rolls. Then on toward Charles City and a short ride of 51 miles. Swaledale was the first town and one of the hightlights. They had many firsts there but today's exhibit was the first impractical mechanical invention, a moving junkyard. And it was. Photos to follow. Then in Cartersville, an unincorporated town, the entire city of maybe 50 people had rallied around their school and had created a fundraiser where you launched yourself into the pond by holding a trapeze-like contraption. People paid $5 each and they sent about 4 or 5 a minute into the pond and it was nonstop. Everyone stopped either on the road or into the area to see it and then bought food and beverages. Great idea.
I also achieved one of my objectives for the trip with a stop at Mr. Porkchops for a huge pork chop. They do them right in Iowa. A chop about an inch and a half thick, charred but medium rare and juicy on the inside. Best ever.
Then on to Rockwood where there are a host of Devonian fossils. Many riders stopped at a stone pit outside of town to look for fossils. Into the town and I enjoyed a root beer float.
Short ride then into Charles City to meet the crew at our hosts home. Did 53 miles at an average of 15.6 mph. Could have ridden lots more.
The truck has broken again. I tried to find an available race car hauler to fill in for the day, but Lonnie and crew found a truck that will be delivered here. Also tried to convince Barb to bring our truck here but that didn't work!
Anyway, the best part of the day was to come. Carmen and Everrett Schacht were coming from Cresco for dinner and she was bringing a rhubarb pie. We met at the parking lot outside the HyVee and chatted for a while about all the friends from our youth group who had recently gotten together. We shared pictures of them and my family then went to a pizza place for a great dinner and more conversation. (Plenty of food in Charles City) Then they followed me to the campsite and I brought the pie into the house. It was spectacularly good. I shared it with the group and they were ecstatic as well.
We are ready to go to bed in preparation for the longer ride tomorrow. We are headed to Waterloo with a stop in Parkersburg, a city nearly destroyed with a tornado a couple of years ago, and a very important stop in Dike to visit with the Hansen's. Alice might have something for me to eat as well -- hope, hope.
Also it would be a nice surprise if Barb showed up for her ride with us. We'll see.
I'll be with you tomorrow.
When we got to Clear Lake we were obviously hot and exhausted so I showered (no hot water was left to be had but cold felt really good) and a group of us went to find something to eat after resting for a while. By the time we got to the Lutheran church and then to the Methodist church there was no food remaining. Then on to other commercial locations. Same story or lines so long I wasn't interested. I returned to camp and found others with the same dilemma so we got bread and bologna at the grocery store and ate just fine. Then to bed.
Anyway, here is the story of the ride on Wednesday from Clear Lake to Charles City.
It rained an inch last night with lots of lightning and thunder so I left a little later than usual for today's ride. An 8 AM start sent me south out of Clear Lake with an overcast sky and a wonderful tail wind. Ran 20 to 21 mph to the first turn off where one of our group said her mother was waiting for us with cinnamon rolls. Sure enough Judy's mother had driven from Minnesota with delicious rolls. Then on toward Charles City and a short ride of 51 miles. Swaledale was the first town and one of the hightlights. They had many firsts there but today's exhibit was the first impractical mechanical invention, a moving junkyard. And it was. Photos to follow. Then in Cartersville, an unincorporated town, the entire city of maybe 50 people had rallied around their school and had created a fundraiser where you launched yourself into the pond by holding a trapeze-like contraption. People paid $5 each and they sent about 4 or 5 a minute into the pond and it was nonstop. Everyone stopped either on the road or into the area to see it and then bought food and beverages. Great idea.
I also achieved one of my objectives for the trip with a stop at Mr. Porkchops for a huge pork chop. They do them right in Iowa. A chop about an inch and a half thick, charred but medium rare and juicy on the inside. Best ever.
Then on to Rockwood where there are a host of Devonian fossils. Many riders stopped at a stone pit outside of town to look for fossils. Into the town and I enjoyed a root beer float.
Short ride then into Charles City to meet the crew at our hosts home. Did 53 miles at an average of 15.6 mph. Could have ridden lots more.
The truck has broken again. I tried to find an available race car hauler to fill in for the day, but Lonnie and crew found a truck that will be delivered here. Also tried to convince Barb to bring our truck here but that didn't work!
Anyway, the best part of the day was to come. Carmen and Everrett Schacht were coming from Cresco for dinner and she was bringing a rhubarb pie. We met at the parking lot outside the HyVee and chatted for a while about all the friends from our youth group who had recently gotten together. We shared pictures of them and my family then went to a pizza place for a great dinner and more conversation. (Plenty of food in Charles City) Then they followed me to the campsite and I brought the pie into the house. It was spectacularly good. I shared it with the group and they were ecstatic as well.
We are ready to go to bed in preparation for the longer ride tomorrow. We are headed to Waterloo with a stop in Parkersburg, a city nearly destroyed with a tornado a couple of years ago, and a very important stop in Dike to visit with the Hansen's. Alice might have something for me to eat as well -- hope, hope.
Also it would be a nice surprise if Barb showed up for her ride with us. We'll see.
I'll be with you tomorrow.
Third day - July 26 - Algona to Clear Lake
This was supposed to be an easy ride of only 59 miles so I got up early and set off at 6:57 in the morning. 65 miles later I arrived in Clear Lake listening for the music of Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper and Richie Valens but I was so exhausted I couldn't make out the tunes or vibes from the last concert before their plane crash that cold winter night in 1958 or 9.It really wasn't such a tough ride geographically but wow did the temparature and the southerly wind take its toll.Into Wesley we went only about 5 miles down the road. As usual the roads were so packed with riders we had to get off and walk our bikes. I walked to a french toast vendor run by a local charity and had a banana, french toast and sausage. The syrup was in ketchup plastic squeeze bottles. But here in Iowa they had fake butter! Unimageanable. Still it was good and I didn't use the butter.Then back on the bike with a short stop on the way out to fill my water bottle and on the road I went to the next small town which, interestingly had absolutely no services. Wow did they miss an opportunity. These little towns generate incredible business for their churches, We came to Britt, Iowa next. It is the site of theannual Hobo Fextival. Britt is located next to the mainline of the railroad and for decades they have celebrated the railroad hobo with a festival, naming the "Hobo of the Year" annually. It really is a big deal around here so RAGBRAI offers them another celebration opprotunity. You could get your picture with the Hobo of the Year, meet Barney Fife and whatever the town drunk was in the Mayberry show and of course enjoy good food, fill your water bottles and stock up on gatorade. I walked and rode slowly through town and kept going because we were warned that it was going to get really hot. Wedid jog south for a bit and the head wind wasn't fun. Slowed to 11-12 mph into the wind from the 17-18 mph I'd been able to run.The hills aren't large through this area, we only climbed a total of 1,000 feet for the day, but they do keep on coming just enough so you have to work all the time. Remember I can't get into my third ring, the faster ring on the front of the bike, so I pedal a little faster to maintain my speed.We made it to Garner with about 25 miles to go. Elvis was singing at the town square. Politicians were handing out free water and after a short stop at the porta-potty with such a short line I couldn't resist, I pedalled on.Now it is really hot and, if I had continued straight on the road I'd have been better off and in Clear Lake, but I really do follow the rules so when they said turn south for about 8 miles into the teeth of the wind, I did it. The road was smooth but the wind was difficult and the temperature was well over 90. I rumbled on and finally we made the left turn into a quartering wind. Got to tell you I was tired. About two miles down the road there was a farm with no services but a string of tall pine trees along the road. I couldn't resist and parked the bike with the proper "Biker Off" shout and went to the shade. I took my glasses and helmet off, laid my head on the helmet and fell sound asleep for a half hour. The biting flies woke me so off I went. We finally turned back north and had a tail wind so I picked the speed up but for 8 miles the c\racks in the road shoook me so much it took all the fun out of the ride in. Finally we got to Clear Lake, a beautiful town along a lake whose water is is said comes through the aquifer from Lake Superior in northern Minnesota. Our house is wonderful and shady. The shower is great and the hosts are terrific people. They had ice water, local beef jerky, local soy beans as snacks, cookies and some wonderful summer sausage with cranberries.The owners and their friends had ended up on a cruise with the Rusty Wallace fan club and had spent some time with Rusty and Kenny Wallace. We had a good time talking.It was sooo hot I can't describe it. This ride was more difficult than ysterday's 100 mile ride.We think it might rain tonight and the wind is supposed to turn to the south so it should improve Btomorrow, I hope.Besides, I meet Carmen Schacht for dinner and she promised me a rhubarb pie. We grew up together in Cedar Rapids so it will be an evening for reminscing.I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.
Day two - Algona to Clear Lake
This was a really fun day. The ride was not over especially difficult terrain although the last 10 miles were mostly uphill, but the length made it interesting. I decided to do the century today - that's 100 miles for the day - and the wind got stronger today from the south so it was a factor.But the most interesting thing today was that Allison Foil and I connected about 33 miles. There are about 13,000 riders in this event. Allison is one of our Davie County Cycling Club riders from NC and is the only club member other than myself in the ride. We spoke by phone last night and I told her that I planned to wear our Davie Club jersey today and to look for me. Well, one wouldn't really expect her to be able to find me. We all leave to join the ride at different times, we ride at our own speed and we stop at towns and meal stops for various lengths of time.I left at 7:10 this morning and rode with Jim from our group. We travelled with hundreds of other cyclists on the road headed for Varina, the firsty town some 16 miles down the road. We stopped briefly for watermelon just past Varina, electing not to stop in Varina because there was such a crush of people and long lines. After the melon, which served as our second breakfast after the juice and a bagel with cream cheese,we rode on and I increased my speed leaving Jim a little behind. The road was so flat or slightly downhill so I could easily manage a 16 to 20 mph average. The wind was negligible.Pocohantas was the first sizeable city on the route and as I was slowing into the town I heard a voice shout "Hey Davie County -- Roger!" It was Allison. We rode the rest of the way together averaging 15.5 mph for the 100 mile trip. Allison, like me, wanted to take advantage of the interesting things along the way. We stopped for Ice Cream, PB&J with raisins and bananas, corn on the cob, pasta, visited with mechanics, grabbed beverages enroute and, best of all, toured the largest grotto in the world in West Bend. The grotto in West Bend is a remarkable structure that took more than 80 years to create. The structures covered with semi precious and interesting stones from around the world. The stations of the cross, the italian marble statues depicting Christ, the holy family in stone covered settings that are difficult to describe but are housed on roughly 2 acres of property. It was worth the ride.We averaged 15.5 mph, rode about 6 hours of the total of 8.5 hours before arriving in Algona.I missed the turn to our housing so wandered around the outskirts of Algona before I found someone who gave me directions to the home where we are staying. Big hills in and around Algona.Lets talk about the ride situation. The wind picked up from the south during the day so we had a cross wind or head wind most of the time. It made the ride challenging at times.I also had my gears and derailleurs worked on last night to correct a slight rub of the front derrailleur. Well, that $10 was not well spent. I could not get on the large ring (gear) on the front without a great deal of difficulty and if I could engage the ring, the derrailleur rubbed so much it created a racket. During the 20 mile "loop" those of us doing 100 miles instead of the posted 80 miles, we came across a mechanic who also worked on my gears and pronounced them fine. Wrong. So I think this is a larger problem than I can get handled on this ride. Guess I'll be riding with the first and second rings and forget the large ring so I need to get used to it. Its not a huge deal, but relaxing and going real fast are out of the question. Barbara will like that.Did I tell you that one of the claims to fame Algona claims is that it is the home of the world's largest Cheeto? Seems someone in England opened a Cheeto bag and found a Cheeto larger than a golf ball but smaller than a tennis ball. It was put up for auction and somehow the city began bidding. Some DeeJay in town took the ball and got it rolling. The bidding outpace the town's ability to pay getting up to a ridiculous $1,000,000 on EBay. Well, the Brit who owned it decided that Algona really needed the Cheeto so he awarded it to them for whatever and today it is housed in a bullet proof display case in town. I haven't seen it (likely won't) but it is a claim to fame.Enroute we passed more wind farms with their giant blades turning on the horizon. These mammoths are really remarkable to see. There was more corn and soybeans than you could believe. In one area the corn stretched from horizon to horizon. That's a lot of corn.Tomorrow we go toClear Lake , an Iowa town I've never seen. I'm told it is really beautiful and interesting. The route is only 8 miles and looks like it has rolling hills and is east west. It gets me one day closer to seeing childhood friend Carmen in Charles City who has promised me a rhubarb pie when we have dinner together.The group I'm riding with is really interesting and we have shared stories about the college from the days I went to now. It really is nice to know this school has maintained its high standards as a liberal arts institution and, from what I can see, has moved to make things even better for the students than when I attended. It also costs $30,000+ a year vs. $2,000Don't forget to help the Clemmons Food Pantry by sending a check to Clemmons Methodist Church, Clemmons, NC 27012 and note either Food Pantry or Roger's Ride on the check. You will help some very deserving people who volunteer to proved help to some other very deserving people.Thanks.
This was a really fun day. The ride was not over especially difficult terrain although the last 10 miles were mostly uphill, but the length made it interesting. I decided to do the century today - that's 100 miles for the day - and the wind got stronger today from the south so it was a factor.But the most interesting thing today was that Allison Foil and I connected about 33 miles. There are about 13,000 riders in this event. Allison is one of our Davie County Cycling Club riders from NC and is the only club member other than myself in the ride. We spoke by phone last night and I told her that I planned to wear our Davie Club jersey today and to look for me. Well, one wouldn't really expect her to be able to find me. We all leave to join the ride at different times, we ride at our own speed and we stop at towns and meal stops for various lengths of time.I left at 7:10 this morning and rode with Jim from our group. We travelled with hundreds of other cyclists on the road headed for Varina, the firsty town some 16 miles down the road. We stopped briefly for watermelon just past Varina, electing not to stop in Varina because there was such a crush of people and long lines. After the melon, which served as our second breakfast after the juice and a bagel with cream cheese,we rode on and I increased my speed leaving Jim a little behind. The road was so flat or slightly downhill so I could easily manage a 16 to 20 mph average. The wind was negligible.Pocohantas was the first sizeable city on the route and as I was slowing into the town I heard a voice shout "Hey Davie County -- Roger!" It was Allison. We rode the rest of the way together averaging 15.5 mph for the 100 mile trip. Allison, like me, wanted to take advantage of the interesting things along the way. We stopped for Ice Cream, PB&J with raisins and bananas, corn on the cob, pasta, visited with mechanics, grabbed beverages enroute and, best of all, toured the largest grotto in the world in West Bend. The grotto in West Bend is a remarkable structure that took more than 80 years to create. The structures covered with semi precious and interesting stones from around the world. The stations of the cross, the italian marble statues depicting Christ, the holy family in stone covered settings that are difficult to describe but are housed on roughly 2 acres of property. It was worth the ride.We averaged 15.5 mph, rode about 6 hours of the total of 8.5 hours before arriving in Algona.I missed the turn to our housing so wandered around the outskirts of Algona before I found someone who gave me directions to the home where we are staying. Big hills in and around Algona.Lets talk about the ride situation. The wind picked up from the south during the day so we had a cross wind or head wind most of the time. It made the ride challenging at times.I also had my gears and derailleurs worked on last night to correct a slight rub of the front derrailleur. Well, that $10 was not well spent. I could not get on the large ring (gear) on the front without a great deal of difficulty and if I could engage the ring, the derrailleur rubbed so much it created a racket. During the 20 mile "loop" those of us doing 100 miles instead of the posted 80 miles, we came across a mechanic who also worked on my gears and pronounced them fine. Wrong. So I think this is a larger problem than I can get handled on this ride. Guess I'll be riding with the first and second rings and forget the large ring so I need to get used to it. Its not a huge deal, but relaxing and going real fast are out of the question. Barbara will like that.Did I tell you that one of the claims to fame Algona claims is that it is the home of the world's largest Cheeto? Seems someone in England opened a Cheeto bag and found a Cheeto larger than a golf ball but smaller than a tennis ball. It was put up for auction and somehow the city began bidding. Some DeeJay in town took the ball and got it rolling. The bidding outpace the town's ability to pay getting up to a ridiculous $1,000,000 on EBay. Well, the Brit who owned it decided that Algona really needed the Cheeto so he awarded it to them for whatever and today it is housed in a bullet proof display case in town. I haven't seen it (likely won't) but it is a claim to fame.Enroute we passed more wind farms with their giant blades turning on the horizon. These mammoths are really remarkable to see. There was more corn and soybeans than you could believe. In one area the corn stretched from horizon to horizon. That's a lot of corn.Tomorrow we go toClear Lake , an Iowa town I've never seen. I'm told it is really beautiful and interesting. The route is only 8 miles and looks like it has rolling hills and is east west. It gets me one day closer to seeing childhood friend Carmen in Charles City who has promised me a rhubarb pie when we have dinner together.The group I'm riding with is really interesting and we have shared stories about the college from the days I went to now. It really is nice to know this school has maintained its high standards as a liberal arts institution and, from what I can see, has moved to make things even better for the students than when I attended. It also costs $30,000+ a year vs. $2,000Don't forget to help the Clemmons Food Pantry by sending a check to Clemmons Methodist Church, Clemmons, NC 27012 and note either Food Pantry or Roger's Ride on the check. You will help some very deserving people who volunteer to proved help to some other very deserving people.Thanks.
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