Oskaloosa to Fairfield, IA: HE DID IT! HE REALLY, REALLY DID IT! (Day 9)

Today would be Philip's final day of the RAGBRAI ride, and we awoke with mixed emotions.  Yay ... it's almost over!  Boo ... it's almost over!

Today's planned ride was from Oskaloosa to Fairfield, but Philip would ALSO be doing tomorrow's planned ride from Fairfield to Fort Madison ... a total of 118 miles!  Phoenix to Tucson is 116 miles, and you know how long and boring that ride can be (even at 75 MPH, instead of 15!)

So, you can imagine Philip's trepidation at doing not only his longest daily ride EVER, but especially when tacked onto on the tail end of five previous daily back-to-back rides of 50 to 107 miles each.  He wasn't sure he was going to make it!

Saying a quick prayer for strength!

As Philip's support crew, Bella and Sprinkles and I have really enjoyed following him from town to town, trying to provide inspiration and celebration with each milestone!  Today, our support would be especially important for the second half of the day, because all of the other RAGBRAI riders would be staying in Fairfield, while we were just taking a lunch break (pork tenderloin sandwiches! yes, again!) and then going on for another five hours (!!!) by ourselves.

Bella gave him a little pep talk and a high-five in the Fairfield town square during halftime ....

 and then, Philip bought me a t-shirt just to make sure there was no confusion about my role in the shebang.

Today's cities and celebrations took a backseat to one thing, and one thing only .... SURVIVAL.  The heart wants what the heart wants, and Philip's heart wanted to finish this damn ride!  As support crew, we would drive ahead 10 miles, wait for him to catch up, offer cold water/words of encouragement/cocktails, then do the whole thing over again every 10 miles, until we reached the end!

A glimpse of our guy out the front windshield of the support-mobile!

There was one city, however, that really captured our hearts and that we actually spent some time hanging out in.  It is called Bonaparte, has a population of 468 people, and was founded in 1837 on the banks of the Des Moines River.  It has been named the smallest "Main Street Community" in the U.S., and their Riverfront District is part of the National Register of Historic Places.  It was totally enchanting!

But then, you don't really want to hear about charming historical places ... you want to hear about the GRAND FINALE of the ride, right??

If you recall, RAGBRAI began at the Missouri River and would end at the Mississippi River, spanning the entire width of the State of Iowa.  The ending point was Fort Madison, and the terrific thing about wrapping this up an entire day earlier than the rest of the crowd, is that THERE WAS NO REST OF THE CROWD!  We had the finishing line all to ourselves!  He was literally the first person to finish the race!  :-)

Philip's Fan Club was at the finish line about 10 minutes before he arrived, allowing us to get "in position" for him to roll through the finish line.  This also allowed us to meet the one old guy who single-handedly designed and constructed this awesome finish line marker (those are real bikes!), and who was just leaving for the night as we pulled up:

Both Philip and I were literally crying as he rolled through the finish (and not just because we also cry when somebody wins at the big wheel on The Price Is Right).

And then the REAL celebrations began!  Jumping for joy ....

Mounting the podium ....

Spraying the champagne ....

And of course, the important moment, the final ceremonial dip of the front wheel in the Mississippi River!

We couldn't help but reminisce about the start of this biking obsession, I mean hobby, for Philip.  In 2010, he weighed 290 pounds and due to a long-standing knee injury, could barely walk across the street because of excruciating pain.  He wanted to have knee surgery, but the doctor told him the surgery would not be successful unless Philip lost 25 pounds before the surgery and 25 pounds after.  "How can I lose weight when I can't exercise on this knee?" Philip asked.  "You can ride a bike," said Dr. Russo.

And so it began.  He proceeded to lose 65 pounds and over the past three years has ridden in organized bike rides and races in Phoenix, Tucson, Scottsdale, Mesa, Flagstaff, Las Vegas, Lake Mead, Solvang (CA), and now across Iowa.  He started on a heavy, clunky mountain bike and gradually moved his way up to his current love, "Ariel."  ("Grace" has been put out to pasture but is still remembered fondly.)

Most importantly, he has had the time of his life and enjoyed every single minute, and I could simply burst from pride at all that he has accomplished.  It was barely 45 minutes after finishing RAGBRAI that he said, "I think I am going to do the ride from Oregon to Mexico down the coast of California next!"  And so, I think we can call this experience a success!  Thanks for the good times and memories, RAGBRAI!

Fairfield to Des Moines, IA: SEWER 101: TESSA GETS AN A+ (Day 8)

Day Five of RAGBRAI.  Kinda like "Hump Day" in a regular workweek ... the worst is behind you, but you still gotta make it to the end.  273 miles in, 165 to go!  One guy is running the entire RAGBRAI route.  That means he is running at least two full marathons (back to back) every day, except Monday when he ran three full marathons.  They interviewed him on the news and he said, "There are no easy days, just less-hard days!"  Philip agrees, and noted that today's tone and energy level was definitely a little more subdued for the entire group. Today's ride was 50 miles to Oskaloosa, and as you can see here, Philip is developing some awesome abs!

The first town, Pella, has a Danish heritage and was proud to show it off for the riders.  Under the sheltering gaze of multiple classic windmills and Danish-style buildings, residents were dressed in traditional Danish attire, and riders participated in a variety of Danish themed games and activities.  In one such contest, riders would replace their biking cleats with wooden clogs, fill pails of water and carry them on their shoulders about 100 feet,  dump the pails, and race back, all in these hideously uncomfortable and non-fashion-forward wooden clogs.

Or, if wooden shoes weren't your thing, you could instead load up as many cheese wheels as possible onto a sled, race to the end of the course for the fastest time and/or the least number of cheese wheels, which would of course falling all over the place and careen down the street, knocking down little children and old people.  If that was too much frenetic activity for you, you could instead hop on a bicycle built for 21, and basically fake like you were pedaling and allow the other 20 people to do the work for you.

Pulling into another extremely small town, Bussey, all of the town residents had come out into their front yards and set up rows upon rows of lawn chairs.  This in itself is not unusual, but their people were having their own par-tay complete with full potluck and cocktails, not for the riders but for themselves, as they chatted and watched the suckers, I mean the riders, go by.  Philip decided that today was the day to try eating and drinking like a 30-something, and indulged in fresh homemade pizza (where the chef was pounding the dough and mixing the sauce right before his eyes), then gulped a couple of cold beers, just like all the other crazies.  He confidently climbed back on his bike, strapped on his helmet, and then ... reality hit.  He almost puked as the melted cheese and spicy sausage and beers combined in a toxic mix of motivation-killer.  But this day was not gonna finish itself, so on he rode, searching in vain for a vendor selling Tums or Maalox.

The riding scenery has been spectacular and we have become solid fans of this beautiful state!  If you have not visited, you really should!  (This blog sponsored by the Iowa Department of Tourism.)  Seriously ... we have a real appreciation of Iowa and its people and would visit again in a heartbeat!  

Today's ride ended in Oskaloosa, (another) darling town which just happened to be serving the most scrumptious, oversized pork tenderloin sandwiches ... an Iowa classic, and my favorite!  Nom nom nom!

Somebody asked if it was difficult to drive from place to place, with so many bikes on the road.  It really isn't, for a lot of different reasons.  (1) They have everything roped off, so that even if you have to go on the same road as the bikers, you are right next to them but in a totally different lane.  (2) If you need to cross the bikers' path, you drive on ahead to a designated turn, where a police officer will periodically let cars through.  (3) There are a lot of different back roads in Iowa so with careful plotting, you can mostly avoid them altogether.  (4) The end cities put out very detailed maps so you can enter town from a different angle than the bikers.  (5)  My fabulously detailed and organized husband spent many, many hours putting together a 3" thick notebook of maps and directions and confirmations for this entire trip, so all I have to do is open the book to today's section, and off I go!  Thanks, darling!

"Then you turn left, then you go to the second right ..."

Because Philip leaves on his ride long before I leave to drive to the next town, the care and maintenance duties of the RV are my responsibility.  It is not difficult, but I live in terror that I will forget a step.  If I forget to unplug before driving out, I will rip the electrical junction out of the ground!  If I forget to wind down the TV antenna, the tree will rip it from the roof!  If I forget to fill the fresh water tank, we won't be able to take showers at the next campground!  If I don't secure every last item, they might come flying out of the cabinets as I drive over yet another curb!  For a neurotic, this RV stuff is breeding ground for insecurity.

The most crucial task in an RV trip, of course, is the periodic dumping of the sewage tank.  There was never any doubt that I would have to learn to do this, and I didn't raise a stink (pun intended).  The first few times, I watched Philip.  The next few times, I helped Philip.  (Disposable gloves ... mandatory.)  Finally, it was time to try the entire process on my own, and I didn't want any help because I had to be sure I had the whole thing down pat, for when I would be doing it while he was out riding.  The most hysterical thing was to watch other campers driving by, sneering in disgust at a strong, grown man (Philip) just standing there with his arms crossed, while his little wifey-poo (pun intended, again) struggled with the hoses and couplers and valves and whatnot.  They clearly thought he was the biggest jerk in the world!  But, now I can dump like a pro ... black tank, gray tank, it doesn't matter, I got this!

Tomorrow, Philip will be doing a "two-fer" ... two days fer the price of one, combining the Friday AND the Saturday rides for a total of 115 miles.  This is because we are heading to Max's summer camp in Indiana on Saturday and have to be there to check him out by noon, so there won't be time to ride the last day on Saturday.

We have really enjoyed all of your messages on this blog and Facebook, so know that they are giving Philip great motivation to know that the "home team" is rooting for him!  Philip says, "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak" ... so say a little prayer of encouragement that he finishes strong tomorrow and brings home the gold!

Des Moines to Knoxville, IA: FREE SKINNY DIPPING! (Day 7)

Today's fourth day of RAGBRAI took Philip 54 miles from Des Moines to Knoxville, Iowa on what could only be described as a roller-coaster of a ride.  Up a hill at 7 miles an hour, down a hill at 30 miles an hour, up a hill, down a hill ... rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat.  Whew!  It was extremely crowded today because a lot of Des Moines residents were joining in for today's ride only, so as the ride began, people were pouring into the group from every side street in Des Moines.

Today was deemed "RAGBRAI Jersey Day" and riders were encouraged to wear this year's jersey, or any previous year's jersey.  Of course, it is a badge of honor to have a jersey from past years ... the older, the better! ... and riders love to brag about how many years they have done this ride.  Unfortunately for spectators, however, it makes it extremely difficult to pick out the blur that is "your guy" when the majority of riders are wearing the exact same blue jersey as they go flying by!

There continue to be quite the variety of participants, including some people on unicycles, a guy doing the route on a skateboard, a guy pulling a cart with his two dogs in it, and hundreds of handicapped people in modified bicycles climbing the same hills using only their arm power ... totally inspirational!  And remember the hippie pulling a solar-powered stereo we mentioned in an earlier post?  Philip found him again and took a photo ... just for you, dear readers!

Today's pass through Runnells, Iowa came complete with a roadside sign advertising "Free Skinny Dipping" at a farmer's pond. The farmer had built the pond 9 years ago and had always hoped that the RAGBRAI route would go past for this express purpose (creepy voyeurism, but whatever).  People dropped their bikes, dropped their pants, and went charging into the pond, laughing all the way.  This joyous celebration of the human body was interrupted when the cops arrived, but not before Philip had snapped a couple pictures of "When Woodstock Meets RAGBRAI" .....

We know you are zooming in right now ... yes that guy is really naked ... and white

Law enforcement = not amused

The diversions continue.  Mechanical bull riding.  Slip-N-Slides down every big hill.  High school marching band dance lines.  At one point, the route passed through the Iowa State Fairgrounds, right by the carnival barkers out in full force, "Hop off that bike and come win a goldfish!"  In tiny Monroe, Iowa, the entertainment consisted of a Firehose Battle, similar to Tug-of-War, where they would dress bikers in fireman gear and put two at each end of an overhead cable with an empty keg strung upon it. At the whistle, each team would train their water stream onto the barrel and the winning team was that which could drive it to the other end first.  Clearly, RAGBRAI organizers are finding creative uses for the hundreds of kegs left behind in the beer gardens each day.

In one small town, their theme was "Christmas in July" and the entire town was decorated in holiday fare ... wreaths on the lampposts, Rudolph and Santa inflatables on the front lawns, an artificial snow machine (below), everything Christmas themed ... perfect for Philip ... a.k.a. Mr. Christmas!   While Philip was searching in earnest for a cup of eggnog, townspeople suddenly ran out from every booth, alley, sidewalk and front doorstep and "Frosty's Flashmob" performed a rap rendition of Jingle Bell Rock ......  right before Philip's very eyes.  Ho ho ho!

Lance Armstrong is doing RAGBRAI this year (how far must one's star fall from the sky, to go from winning the Tour de France, to Iowa in July, but who am I to judge); however, Philip says that Lance has not yet caught up with him (tee hee) so he hasn't caught any glimpses of him in person.  Or maybe he is wearing a disguise to avoid detection, and is actually the old hippie pictured above?  Hmmmm.

Philip had to use all 20 of his gears today because of all the hills, and his back derailer had to be fixed in order to continue on the ride.  Thankfully, at the Trails' End there are mechanics who can solve any biking related problem ... for a price, of course.  Don't kid yourself ... fun and fitness do not come cheap!

In each of the ending towns, the local churches host a variety of dinners for the hungry masses.  I have been trying to determine if each of the faiths specialize in a certain meal  ... it kind of seems that way!  Catholics ... spaghetti.  Methodists ... chicken and noodles.  Living Word ... hamburgers and hot dogs.  Apostolic ... lasagna.  Episcopal ... pork tenderloin.  Or maybe having the same churches do the same meals allows them to ship the leftovers on to the next town?  Now that's economy of scale!

The day ended in Knoxville, which seems to be a bit more affluent of a town that the previous host cities.  Every stop light post had been adorned with a decorated bicycle, and were mounted hiiiiigh in the air!

Tonight, we stayed in the Whitebreast Campground just outside Knoxville, with bicyclists and tents all around us, everyone bonded together in a mutual state of exhaustion, but after a couple Rum-and-Cokes, the enthusiasm returns by bedtime.  Philip is starting to get sore, after day upon day of riding, and is getting definition in muscles he never knew he had!

Tomorrow ... on to Oskaloosa .... Philip's last relatively "short" day of the ride (another 50+ miles).  He has informed me that today he is going to take his time and really enjoy all of the goings-on in each of the towns.  This bodes well for some more interesting stories, don't you think?  Stay tuned .....

Des Moines, IA: EVEN BETTER IN SPANDEX (Day 6)

Day Three of RAGBRAI: after today, we are halfway done!  Today's route goes to the "big city" of Des Moines, whose marketing department has decreed itself "Des Moines: Even Better In Spandex."  A little obvious; everything is better in spandex, right?  (Maybe not Chris Christie.)

Today, riders were encouraged to wear a biking jersey from the college or university they attended.  Of course, the variety of jerseys was amazing and was a terrific source of camaraderie.  Philip was wearing his University of South Carolina jersey, which seems innocent enough, except that they are the USC "Gamecocks" (you see where I am headed with this) and that is boldly proclaimed down both sides of the jersey. Every other rider:  "Go 'cocks!" "Are the 'cocks going to go hard this year?" "Alright, the big 'cocks are here!"  Everyone's a comedian.

The array of towns and activities continues to be memorable. You really can't even begin to imagine the crush of bicycles.  Joining the flow, or leaving the flow, is like trying to yield onto a six-lane California freeway and the LAWS OF TRAFFIC must be obeyed!  You have to actually yell "biker coming off" and let people move to the side to let you get out or "biker coming on" and hope to God that somebody gives you a six-inch window to squeeze yourself into the group ... and you better be going the same rate of speed as they are, as you merge!  Then, riders are flying along at 18-20 miles per hour, and suddenly everybody, EVERYBODY, is slamming on their brakes because a small town has been reached!

At one such stop today, every single resident was wearing the exact same pink shirt and all along the route through their town, they were having a contest, because every other house had an outline map of the United States and wanted the riders to yell what state they were from, whereupon a darling little milk-fed cherub of a child would color in that state on the map. In another small town, there was an enormous cow and they were giving away thousands of cartons of chocolate milk and nobody can resist "free" OR "chocolate milk."  The only problem was, then you were dodging discarded milk cartons in the street for the next 3 miles, and burping chocolate milk for the next 30 miles.

Every RAGBRAI'er has a yellow card on the back of their bike with their name and where they are from. This is presumably an ice-breaker and a way to get to "know your neighbors" on the ride, but also possibly so they know where to ship your body if you don't survive the week.  Philip has seen cards from Alaska, Montreal Canada, London England, Puerto Rico, and of course everything in between.  He has met two girls from Scottsdale, and another whose entire family lives in Scottsdale, but truthfully Arizona seems to be light in attendance.  Time for all you AZ residents to start training and step up for the 42nd RAGBRAI next year!  (Ryan Weed ... Keith and Nancy Keil .... Steve Deming ... Nancy Britt .... Philip is gunnin' for you .... get ready!)

Every Town Square is virtually unpassable, as every vendor is there heckling you to buy their homemade cinnamon rolls, or family-recipe jam, or whatever; throw a ball for the dunk tank which makes a toilet mounted on top "pee" onto the person in the tank below; or watch two crazies in a wrestling ring throw each other around like Nacho Libre on a bad day.  Keep in mind that these people are doing this just for fun.  Because they can.  Because they have an audience.  A really big, big, big audience.

Although many of the offerings were made quite unappealing by the length of the lines, Philip couldn't resist a stand with homemade individual apple pies which were being made fresh on the farmhouse up the hill and being brought down by the family's charming daughters. (It was unclear in his telling of the story if was the pies, or the daughters, that were irresistible.)  One town had LITERALLY three miles of 8-foot-tall American flags erected on both sides of the street just a few feet apart leading into town, and when you actually arrived at the town square, "Proud to Be An American" was playing on the loudspeakers.  It was all Philip (and the other riders) could do, not to break into tears.  Can't you just picture it?

Downtown Des Moines was beautiful and the town had set up the "Totally Tubular Tuesday" (get it?) Trails' End celebration on a majestic bridge, with all of the vendors and entertainment over the water.  In each host city, they have ongoing music with headliners for the night's party, and in Des Moines it was the Summerland Live Tour featuring Everclear and other popular rock bands.  The concerts are free and open to the public, so they were bracing for probably 15,000 people to jam downtown that evening.  We spent time at the festival during the day, but would instead be happily tucked into our cozy campground for the evening.

Tomorrow's ride will go from Des Moines to Knoxville, approximately 50 miles.  Believe it or not, the sweatshirts have come out as the evenings are cool and the nights have actually become cold!  Philip is enjoying every minute of this experience and already starting to plan his cross-country ride at his retirement in 2017!

Harlan to Des Moines, IA: DON'T FORGET YOUR INFLATABLE DOLL! (Day 5)

The longest ride day began with the same enthusiasm and get-'er-done attitude as the day before ... but the tides would be turning before the day was done!  (More on that later.)  As Day Two of the ride began, RAGBRAI'ers were sharing stories of the fun they had in the "Tent Cities" in Harlan the night before.  Of course sleeping in a tent by yourself after a long day's ride is lonely, and many people carried their sleeping companions on the back of their bikes.  Large stuffed teddy bears.  A plush pink flamingo.  A fully inflated female doll.  When you are among 20,000 of your closest friends for days on end, apparently all privacy rules are suspended.

Most riders are staying in tents spread all over town on every available patch of real estate.

But I digress. Today's ride was 80 miles, unless you chose to add on a loop which would make your ride 105 miles.  Those who added the "Karras Loop" received a special patch for their jersey, and of course, Mr. Competitive was NOT leaving Iowa without that patch.  80-105 miles is 7-9 hours of riding at a fairly fast pace, and "Butt Butter" (a soothing cream that eases the pain of having a 2" wide seat up your crack) is a must-have item.   The riders were talkative and in good spirits as they set out.  The never-ending parade of costumes continued .... a couple on a tandem bike wearing old-timey wedding gear; a group of drag queens; an old hippie pulling a homemade wagon, with a stereo powered by a solar panel, playing Eric Clapton and The Doors; balloons and feathers and wigs, oh my!

The first 2/3 of the ride were the hilliest by far ... don't ever let anyone tell you that Iowa is flat! There were several 5-mile long, 5% grade hills and only one way up!  PEDAL POWER! One hill was called "Big Bertha" and was a 12% grade for 1.5 miles.  On most hills, there was a single-file line of bikers walking their chariots slowly to the top.  The moaning, the bitching, the eye rolls, the deep sighs ... let's just say the optimism was fading fast.  "Inner Motivation" was key!

There were longer distances between the small towns than the day before, and as lunchtime approached, Philip was debating eating a Clif Bar or a banana, when he suddenly came over the top of a hill and saw 600+ bikers spread out all around a farmhouse, with a big school bus painted pink and made to look like a pig.  Smoke was billowing out and they were grilling and serving very large, thick pork chops in paper napkins for $7 each.  With the delicious smell and potential for some time "out of the saddle," he would have paid $70!  The beer garden was right next door (how convenient!) and of course, people were partying and carrying on.  Philip continues to marvel at how people can drink so much and still have the wherewithall to get back on their bikes, but I pointed out that most of those people are in their 20's, and he is 59, and surely when he was in his 20's he did a ton of crazy things while under the influence!

During the last 30 miles to the finish line in Perry, Iowa, the mood was in deep contrast to the beginning, and nobody was talking or joking anymore. Philip likened it to a death march, and as you passed any shade tree, any front yard, any patch of grass, you would see the carcasses of wounded warriors passed out underneath and bicycles laying wherever they were dropped.  Today was hot, hot, hot, and as the day wore on, and temperatures approached 92 degrees and 96% humidity, the SAG Wagon (SAG stands for Support And Gear and it is the van that goes around helping people) was making multiple full runs, picking people up from the route and ferrying them to the end.

Once again, Midwestern graciousness was in full display.  The dogs and I stood under a tree in somebody's yard, waiting for Philip to cross the finish line.  Suddenly, the front door flew open and I braced myself for the angry homeowner to tell me to get off their lawn.  "HEY!" she said.  "I have a fully fenced back yard; why don't you let the dogs off their leashes and they can run around back there while you wait!  Would you like some iced tea?"  Turns out she was waiting for some riders too, because she was putting a few of them, total strangers, up for the night in her house, just like the majority of the town's residents were doing.

Waiting on daddy to arrive!

The sound of the high school marching band in Perry, Iowa was the cue that the riders had finally made it back from the edge.  By the time Philip made it home, he could barely whisper ... "Water ... air conditioning ... soft place to sit ..."  He had gone 107 miles and burned 8,020 calories.  Thankfully, this would be the hardest day of the ride, and the weather was supposed to break overnight.

And did it EVER break!  That evening, we were tucked into the RV, eating dinner and watching a DVD movie, when KA-BOOOOOM, the thunder and lightning and rain and hail started up.  It is really cool to be inside an RV during inclement weather, because you feel like you are right inside the belly of the storm, but Bella is scared of thunder and having a 75-pound dog scramble into your lap is not pleasant.  It lasted almost an hour and the temperature dropped 30 degrees.  We saw on the news that night that the thousands of riders staying in tents were taking cover in local businesses ... or maybe that was just an excuse to go back into the bars.

Tomorrow will be "happy times are here again" for two reasons ... the ride will be half the distance, and the temperatures will be at least 20 degrees cooler.  Also, when it is cooler, you can leave later in the day, avoiding those nasty 6 AM wake-ups that are otherwise necessary to beat the heat.  There is no official start time each day, so everyone just heads out "whenever," which also keeps the riders more spread out throughout the route.  Philip is looking forward to an "easy day" of "ONLY" 50 miles!