Day 1 - The entire trip was thrown into immediate peril before we even biked a single mile. The night before we were to leave, Chicago received an onslaught of rain as Lori and I awoke to find that our basement possessed a foot and a half of water. Fortunately, the rain began to subside, the water levels receded, and Lori, being the saint that she is, gave me the green light to take off. Rather than dwell on Lori slogging through countless soggy boxes, I decided to regard the flood as a good luck charm, something akin to rain on your wedding day.
However, things did not get much better that first day. While driving to the westernmost part of the state, I experience a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. As our rented SUV strained to climb hill after rolling hill, I immediately realize that Iowa isn't the flat prairie that I assumed it was. I come to the horrifying realization that the completely flat trail along Lake Michigan in no way prepared me for what was in store. Unprecedented trepidation sets in, and I immediately begin to concoct schemes to get out of the situation. I decide it's best to begin to lay the groundwork for some sort of injury, so I can bow out gracefully and with my dignity in tact.
Day 2 - During our first day of riding, we come to the realization that most bikers on the trip are actually a part of highly organized teams, complete with matching uniforms. We decide that our rag-tag team of four guys riding in cargo shorts and tee shirts at least needs a name. We decide that for the rest of the trip we'll be known as "Team Four Guys, One Tent." To cope with the awkwardness of having a close friend's hot, steamy breath bear down on your neck as you try to sleep, we take to drinking copious amounts of alcohol just prior to bedding down each night.
Day 3 - Each town along the route rolls out the red carpet for the RAGBRAI bikers. After all, the presence of over 10,000 riders is easily the most exciting thing to ever happen to most of these places. As such, we feel it is our duty to support the local economy during these trying times by stopping into each watering hole that we pass. On this day, all the drinking puts me in a great mood, despite the hills and over 80 miles of riding. In a fit of alcohol-induced merriment, I decide that this trip should become an annual tradition. In fact, I even go so far as to propose that we change our name to "Team Three Guys, Two Newlyweds, One Tent." I'm sure that with a small degree of cajoling I can convince Lori that the 2011 ride is an ideal honeymoon location.
One of the many highly-organized teams is a group of riders from the Air Force. Despite their aerodynamic blue uniforms, undoubtedly designed by NASA for optimal speed, I fly past their team and reach the final town minutes before them due to my 5th wind of the day. I can only assume that several privates were water-tortured later that night for allowing the slovenly civilian to beat them. If they can't chase down a 250 lb hippie in Iowa, it's no wonder they have such a difficult time subduing insurgents in the Middles East
Day 4 - The ubiquitous niceness of small-town Iowans begins to rub off on Jackson. He is usually rather cantankerous when at home in Chicago. However, during the ride he can't help but curb his snarky comments. For example, during one beer pit stop, Jackson commented, "It's interesting how all the riders on this tour come in all shapes and sizes." This made me laugh because what he really meant was, "I can't believe how many fat-asses are on this tour."
Most towns arrange for a dj or a cover band to entertain the masses that descend upon their communities. However, on this particular day, Clear Lake, a particularly wealthy resort community, goes the extra mile and books The Spin Doctors for our listening pleasure. It may have been the endorphins still coursing through my body after the ride, but I feel fairly confident that I achieved a state of total enlightenment while sitting in a porta-potty and listening to Alexi Lalas's doppelganger belt out "Two Princes" a mere 100 feet away. So I got that going for me...
Drinking all day makes us, as you might expect, have to relieve ourselves in the middle of the night. However, this proves to be a problem when you are camping in a sea of tents and the porta potties are roughly a hundred yards away. Jackson was particularly stubborn when it came to making this late night trek. He began experimenting with various ways in which he could relieve himself without having to exit the tent. After much trial and error, he finally developed a technique that would not soil the tent or its inhabitants. I don't want to go into too much detail here because this is a family-oriented blog after all. However, for those camping fanatics among you who have struggled with this problem, I don't want to leave you hanging. Imagine Jackson as the center on an offensive line, with his head in the tent and his backside pointing out the mouth of the tent. I'll leave it to your imagination to figure out how he completes the technique that has come to be known as the "long snap."
Neil also experimented with some progressive methods of gastrointestinal-relief. He found an entire roll of toilet paper to be too burdensome for our already heavy bag, so he took to carrying a single banana each day on the route. While squatting in the middle of a corn field, he would proceed to eat said banana and then afterwards put the peel to other uses. Local Indian tribes remain astounded by his resourcefullness.
Day 5 - The fake injury that I had been planning to stage becomes an actual one when my quad muscle starts to hurt. This is particularly bothersome to me because I have have no insurance and I've been told that reconstructive knee surgery can get pricey. During a pit stop I decide to consult the three doctors in my family via text message. When only one of the three uses the term "MRI," I decide the odds are in my favor and that I should press on, ignoring the pain.
Day 6 - After 5 days of relatively nice weather, we get hit with our first thunderstorm. Flying down the backside of a steep hill at over 30 mph is particularly scary when coupled with a slick road and pelting rain fogging up your glasses. However, despite the treacherous road conditions, I decided it was safer than being in my neighborhood, where an armed convict was being hunted by swat teams (for those of you visiting this month, don't let this deter you. We've been assured that this was an isolated incident).
Day 7 - We play catch on the "Field of Dreams." Words can not do this place justice, so I won't try. In fact I'm getting a little misty-eyed just thinking about it. Aftewards, we proceed to Dubuque where we touch our tires in the Mississippi River, signifying that our trip across the entire state has come to an end. Thousands of dollars change hands as the multitude of people across the country who bet against me are shocked to learn that I actually rode each of the roughly 450 miles.
During this trip, I learned that the endorphins released through rigorous exercise are almost as good as actual drugs. So I think I'll try to continue this exercise binge. Any suggestions concerning another challenge to take on???
