In Which Team Joe Faces Heat

What a hot ride does to bikers. What hot bikers do to cats.

At the end of the ride, to celebrate, we had bottles of “Not Your Dad’s Root Beer,” which I should get a kickback from for product placement, but it’s been the official drink of Team Joe for a couple of years.

The Des Moines crew was kind enough to bring the six pack, but when it arrived in Cedar Rapids it was only a four-pack. The Des Moines crew looked away and let the silence grow slightly awkward.

Anyway, Team Joe met for its traditional pre-RABRAI summit—this year on Independence Day. There are four of us, two of my sisters, my brother-in-law and me. We had a nice breakfast at Riley’s (product placement) and then met at Cate’s house to start our ride.

We first headed over to Lowe Park. The visitors from the west were suitably impressed by both the flower meadows and the rusty buffalo being stalked by gardeners.

Although, from a distance, they also thought the Lowe Park art performance amphitheater looked like a statue of an alien from the movie “Alien.”

The morning was sunny and humid, and already quite warm by the time we got to Lowe Park. I was in the lead, which was nice because I do have a tender knee and it ensured that the group moved at the glacial pace of gimpy CR Biker. Eldon, who has a hamstring injury, said he did not mind the slow pace.

After Lowe Park, we headed over to the Boyson Trail, mostly to visit the facilities at Thomas Park.

After the break, while we were on the Lindale Trail, Eldon noticed a leak in one tyre, and for a while, there was some drama as we waited to find out if the sealant in his tubeless tyre would work. It took its time—we speculate extreme heat may have been a factor, and Eldon aired up the tyre several times—but in the end, the tyre held and the ride went on.

It went on through gathering heat. On Facebook, Brigid called the ride “hot and squiggly.” We were recreating my earlier slow quest for flowers, mostly because the Des Moines crew had not seen Lowe Park before.

But Noelridge again stole the show. We wandered over to the Monarch hatching area, and saw several of the majestic insects flitting about the milkweed there. And, of course, oohed and ahhed  at the cocoons.

A Monarch, upper left, takes off to avoid the press at Noelridge Park. Fortunately, the cacoons, below, can't flee as easily.

We then headed east and down to the 42nd Street Parlor City (product placement) on the Cedar River Trail for ice cream. After that, to finish the ride, we went north to side trail that leads to the Robins City Park (technically, South Troy Park--product placement).

Finally, we rode to Cate’s, drank our root beer and had our team meeting. Which basically consisted of: “Brigid has a driver’s schedule planned,” and the rest of us saying “that sounds like a good idea.”

We somnolently watched a hummingbird feed, some turkeys and other wildlife (note the importance of commas in the preceding sentence so that a hummingbird was not feeding turkeys and other wildlife--and no, Des Moines writer, no Oxford comma). One of Cate’s cats wondered onto the sun porch where we were lounging, and reflected the mood by itself lounging.

Nothing like a hot summer ride to turn at team of bikers into boneless kitties.

The ride will put a biker to sleep. The promise of root beer will wake them up. And there had been a hummingbird at this feeder (below), I have witnesses. Wildlife was being elusive on this hot day.

Anyway, we agreed that an early start each day is a key to RAGBRAI. We agree on that every year, and we’ll see how the execution of that idea goes. Our track record is a bit mixed. But our ride totaled over 30 miles (some dispute about how much over, there were minor computer problems, but I know my miles totaled close to 40 for the day—but include several solo miles to and from the ride).

It was a good pre-RAGBRAI ride. And it may lead to a crazier ride yet this week. The trail to Waterloo closes next week, so Cate and I are thinking … why not ride there Friday when the weather will be cooler? And if we can ride to Waterloo, what is there to keep us from riding back beyond sore knees and common sense? We sometimes try at least one pre-RAGBRAI century practice ride—and it’s 102 miles there and back again from the Hiawatha trail head.

Stay tuned, biker fans. There may be more pre-RAGBRAI adventures ahead. May your RAGBRAI training go well, too—and may you avoid melting in the Iowa summer heat.

I arrive home for family feast the afternoon of the fourth, and snap image of flag on my front stoop. Happy treason day, fellow colonialists!