RAGBRAI=BILTHY

Little did I know what I was getting into. I had heard of RAGBRAI (Registers Annual Great Ride Across Iowa) before, about a year ago, but underestimated it's importance and overall fun factor. I had a great time pedaling across Iowa with a bunch of friends this past week, about 440 miles from Missouri Valley to Leclaire, over 7 days with about 20,000 other assholes on bikes, myself and close friends included. Here's a bit...

We left for Missouri Valley Iowa Saturday morning around 1:00 pm after loading our gear and bikes into the trailer on the back of our driver Ross' white Jeep Cherokee. Hit the road and drove down 35 through Iowa and through some nasty weather as well, the kind of weather that makes you think twice about screaming “Bring that shit on bitch!!” into the swirly black clouds that seem to be just 1 step ahead of you. We reached town late in the evening and quickly met up with some of the cats from Team Marley and Evil, along with Carters RV appropriately dubbed Honey. After setting up camp and putin afew down I called it a night and retreated to m hammock, only to be awoken a few hours later by the scratchy voice of fella I would later be introduced to, his name being Bilthy. (The spell checker does not approve of this word, bilthy. It offers me only Filthy or Bil-thy.)

DAY 1 of Actual "Riding".


The first day brought us leaving Missouri Valley around 12:00 pm and eating mini-donuts and drinking coffee roadside 20 minutes into the ride. Met up with a few friends, Bilthy included, and rode on. We put in 59 miles that first day, ending in Harlan later that evening. I rolled in at about 5:30 and mulled about town until I got word of Honey (the rv) and proceeded to meet up with the rest of the crew. By this time I had already set up camp in the city park, so I figured I'd be back shortly. Later in the evening I awake to the gentle sound of my rain fly flapping in the gentle breeze. I lay there in my hammock, swaying back in forth in thoughts of the beauty of it all. Biking, people, camping, the wind. I am headed straight back to sleep with happy thoughts only to be ripped out of my slumber to the sounds of the loudest bull horn in the Midwest and a giant spotlight announcing "flaa flaa flaa, SHELTER. Flaa Fla fla Fla! Immediately! bnla crackling bull horn, shit sound blown speaker Tornado Warning...HAIL." What exactly was said, I have not the slightest clue, but I decide if am going to die in a mighty storm may it be en' route to my friends or with them. I secure my belongings inside the hammock, both weighting it down, and staking in to the ground more, and bike off towards the Honey. Some of us go inside the hosts house and sit it out. "It" never came though. The wind got heavy, real heavy, but it never came. We all awoke to sunshine, a fresh cooked breakfast, and another day of beautiful riding that lay ahead of us.

DAY 2 of actual "riding"


83 miles. Today was a long day. I have been carrying my bags with me, aka. Bagging, and this adds some what more of a challenge to your daily ride. Wind resistance, more weight, more fun. (more time) It is my preferred method of bicycle travel. Self sustained, nobodies-fault-but-your-own mentality. Freedom.
Lots of hills lead to homemade ice cream. I woke up this morning and found my chainring bolts missing from my little ring. Hm. It's gonna be a tough day in the saddle. Duct taped my chainring to my crank, had some coffee and granola, and left that morning feeling slightly challenged, yet motivated. Half way through the route storms rolled across the horizon and I got to enjoy the distant bolts of lightning reaching down to the earth through the warm wind and rain. Life is Good. Met up with some of the crew and left for the remainder of the ride with Cyril on his white Osell. After a short climb out of town we cruised to the second to last stop town, enjoyed the company of a train, and bolted to the last town to cap off the night, Jefferson, 83 miles later.

DAY 3 of actual "Riding"

Day three was an easy 57 miles compared to the day before. We'll end this night in Ames. (aim-es)
Today is the day when everything starts to blend together. I'll do my best to distinguish. We had already established a sleeping, eating, showering quarter for the evening thanks to the Corsan family. Muchas Gracias Carnales. Nice mellow ride, Great soap, good music, brats, beer. Damn what a good day! Here we added and RAGBRAI vet to the crew, and two newbies. (this was my first year as well.) The next day we were to head into flood country and to the overnight town of Tama/ Toledo.


DAY 4 of actual "Riding"


Going from town to town, there are vendors everywhere. From kids selling lemonade, to full on roadside stores. I tied as much as I could, my favorites being the "Draft ROOT BEER" and later in the week "Mr. Porkchop". If you ever decide to do the ride, don't resist buying these roadside goodies, as most of it will be homemade and what the hell, your gettin' rite back on the saddle anyway. The National Guard was giving out free water a couple times. Gatorade is about a buck a bottle, the same price as water, its so abundant that it makes you think twice about quoting lines from "Idiocracy", but shit...it's got electrolytes, right?
Today's ride went through a few towns that had obviously been hit by the floods. I overheard some one saying this As I was riding into the over night town, "hmmmm....the beautiful wetlands of Iowa." 78 miles later we rested up in Toledo.

DAY 5 of actual "Riding"

Woke up to a gentle rain today. My bike fell on my helmet yesterday and cracked my helmet in half, and my bar tape is starting come off, but I got my little chainring fixed today. I set up the hammock between a tree and my bike, since there was not a spot to properly hang it. I ran 2 fly line from the top tube of the bike and staked them into the ground, then tied the hammock ends one to the top tube of my bike, the other to the tree, put down a foot print and basically used the Hennesy Hammock as a tent, with myself actually resting on the ground last night. There is a photo above.
Rode under an overcast sky for most of the day en route to North Liberty. 76 miles later we arrived in the pirate themed city. Sitting by a corn field, drinking beer and pissing in the corn. We waited for the others to show up, and I was told tales of ass licking corn bears, while I peeled the skin off my ever reddening arm. Apparently I missed about a 2x3 inch patch on my upper right arm.

DAY 6 of actual "Riding"



We received some short cut/ scenic route directions last night from the guy who let us stay in his yard. Deciding it would be more fun to change things up a bit, we rode south out of town visiting the Coralville dam, swimming in the reservoir, getting busted without shorts on, and meeting up with team Marley. My frame bent on the right rear seatstay, so we fixed it by bending it back and hose clamping a peice of steel rod to the tubing. Stopped at a DQ, and rode down a county rode, hopped on a gravel rode for a bout four miles. Stopped in some shade and took a break. Then finished off the day in Tipton, maybe 30 miles later, cutting off half the normal route.

Day 6 and final day of riding.

We rode off route again today. I was told my mud flap was "tasteless" and "lame" by a sixty year old woman, but she "understood". Hm. Stopped and saw the worlds biggest horse (almost) had a rest under a shady tree. Finished off the day in Leclaire and hung out for a while. We all celebrated with huge pizzas and got into our time machines and went back to reality.
Life is Good.


See ya soon,
Marlin