In Which Mirror 2 Helps Me Look Back

Opening day Thursday at MMU. A bit foggy in the morning, campus looks pretty as I cross it.

On Tuesday, I picked up Clarence from the bike shop, where a new derailleur was installed during the free 30-day checkup. I also bought a new rear view mirror, and installed it Wednesday.

But a half mile into the ride to campus, the glass popped out and shattered.

Me in new mirror Friday before ride to campus. Swung by Cedar Lake, below. Nice week for biking.

It was Friday before I had time to take the mirror back to the bike shop, but they cheerfully replaced it. I didn’t want the same style—the first mirror had been hard to force inside my handlebars, so I got a round mirror of the same style I used to have on Francis. While a bit more complex, it fit easily and snugly—and has stayed on for three days.

I think we have a winner, in the mirror department.

In Which Clarence Gets More Bling

Picking up the bike at bike shop in downtown Marion. My stuff is already on back for the ride to Mount Mercy.

And we have a winner in the name the new bike contest. I was playing with “Clarissa” as the name for the new bike, in honor of a childhood family VW van, but didn’t think a female name suited this boy bike too well.

So, I suggested “Clare,” a version of Clarissa that is usually feminine, but can be used for a male, too. One of my sisters made a different suggestion on Facebook: How about “Clarence?” She noted the angel in “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Well, the Urban Dictionary says a Clarence is also a sexy metrosexual, which is not exactly what I’m going for here, but the name resonates with me. The meaning seems close to Clarissa, so it’s enough of a reference to the old van--so, I call it. Meet the new bike, Clarence, which just went into the bike shop for its 30-day checkup and emerged with a new front derailleur. It’s been a fun bike to ride—as you may have read, I attached a Tag-Along seat hitch to it, and have taken numerous grandchildren out for spins.

A couple of grandchildren pictures, above and below, showing reaction to Tag-Along seat in use.

Clarence in full bus mode. Don't be too sorry for me, the little guy in back is an extra motor.

The back rack from Francis fits nicely, and so it’s got the carrying capacity to be the main commuter bike. Next addition, which I already bought at the Marion bike shop, is a rearview mirror.

When I purchased it, the teen working the cash register gave me a little speech on how to install it. “That’s OK,” I said. “I know how to bling up a bike.”

The older gentleman working on a bike nearby chuckled. “Yeah,” he said. “That bike has gained a few things since the last time we saw it.”

In my first 30 days with Clarence, it gained lights, a bell, a bar to hold a baby seat and the Tag-Along hitch. I rode Clarence to campus Tuesday. Monday was a ride on Argent.

The contrast between them is not as great as it was between Francis and Argent—Francis was a much heavier bicycle—but there is still something about getting the road bike out now and then for a quicker spin. Still, especially with the seats in front and back, I’m very much enjoying biking with my sexy metrosexual.

In Which I Had a Hammer

If I had a hammer, I’d … repeatedly beat the seat post of my new bicycle.

Really, I would—and Saturday, I did. In spring, we purchased a used tag-a-long bicycle wheel and seat—one of those things that looks like half a bike and attaches to the rear of a larger bike so a child can bike along with an adult. Part of my argument for acquiring the yet-unnamed new blue hybrid bike was that, besides a pickup truck for commuting, I wanted a grandpa-bike--one I could attach a toddler seat to, and the hitch for the child half bike behind.

The hitch was a hitch. The attachment piece was not original, it was a sturdy piece of steel welded by a friend or family member of the previous owner—and the inside diameter of the piece was way too close to the outside diameter of my seat post.

I used WD40 and chain lube, but they were not enough. The hammer proved more persuasive, and 40 minutes of me humming “Working in the Coal Mine” or “If I Had a Hammer” later, the hitch was firmly in place.

The nut to hold it to the seat post was mostly installed as an afterthought—I’m sure this sucker isn’t going anywhere. Installing it required me to raise the seat on my commuting bike—today’s planned ride to the Hiawatha Farmer’s Market will test how well that worked, although I did take a short ride after installation, and the bike felt fine.

The new bike, with child bike attached and toddler seat in place. What shall we call this?

My experience with bike shops is that they usually adjust my seat too low. I know you don’t want to unbend your leg all the way on the down stroke, but I almost always end up raising the seat after they’ve adjusted it.

Anyway, I had to take the toddler bar off to installed the hitch, and putting that back on was difficult. Today’s ride will test that system, too, although again I checked it out and it seems OK.

So, now that the bike is ready to tow grandchildren, what do we call this new vehicle? I know it’s the wrong color, it’s blue and not a yellowish green, but I am tempted by “Clarissa,” the name of the first family car I remember, because Clarissa, a chartreuse 1959 VW Microbus, was a people hauler, too. Then again, this is a manly bike--is there a masculine form of the name Clarissa?

So, friends and family, what do you say? What do we call the new bus, or rather, bike?

In Which RAGBRAI Karma is Complex

In camp the first night in Shenandoah--a RAGBRAI rainbow.

Eldon Rocca and I don’t look much like a superhero and his sidekick, but we got to play those parts briefly in Leon, Iowa.

We saved Delbert. Or maybe Dilbert—I’m not sure.

Anyway, the other two members of Team Joe were biking that morning, and Eldon and I had packed up to drive out of Leon. As we headed down a street, Eldon spotted an old man in a power chair who had turned a corner from a sidewalk to a gravel alley too abruptly and had tipped.

Eldon stomped on the brakes of the Eldonmobile, and he and his sidekick (CR Biker) sprang into action. We helped the man stand, evaluated his injuries (scratches, but he was coherent), and righted his chair.

In the process, Eldon’s shirt got some blood on it, and he had to change, so the incident did delay our trip to that day’s meeting town, Humeston. That was unfortunate, because the first leg of riding that day was rather short, and our bikers beat us to the meet town.

At least we had a story to tell. And we thought we had had the RAGBRAI adventure of the week.

Wrong—more dramatic events were in store when one member of our team slipped in the shower in Centerville, ending her RAGBRAI ride three days early. Her head injury was serious enough that she blacked out briefly and required a CAT scan at the local clinic. Fortunately, no cats were found. She ended up being mostly OK, although it was a scary experience.

It was a RAGBRAI to remember. It was the best of rides, it was the worst of rides. The ride featured a “mile of silence” on the first day to honor bicycle riders who died in accidents, and one such death took place on the ride. There was a serious injury in the first campground, when a man in a tent was dragged by a vehicle.

Team Joe at the end of RAGBRAI. Crazy guy with the gloves is CR Biker.

And yet it was RAGBRAI, a week of summer sun (for the most part), hospitality and decadent food. Iowans can sure make pies.

Team Joe was mostly four people, until the injury knocked us down to three, but we were six on Sunday, and seeing my son and his girlfriend that day was fun.

I was also passed twice during the week by Nate Klein, am MMU business professor who clearly needs to slow down.

I did try to do a few good deeds on this ride. In addition to helping to rescue Dilbert, I gave several strangers squirts of my hand sanitizer outside cornfield restrooms. At one such stop, a woman pulled off the route. Somehow, she looked distressed, and I asked her if she was alright.

“No,” she said. “My chain came off.”

Well, the chain was not broken, and luckily she hadn’t continued to pedal after it slipped off the gear—because a slipped chain can get really mashed in there and be hard to extract. This one wasn’t, and I was able, despite my limited mechanical abilities, to fix her bike in a manner of seconds.

And I bombed ditches with Milkweed seed.

My bike's bomb bay is loaded. Ready to toss some balls to spread Milkweed.

Still, my karma wasn’t all positive. In Sigourney, seeking Marco, I turned left in front of another biker, nearly toppling him. I didn’t mean to create a near accident, but I did—and it was clearly my fault because I was the biker making the sudden, unexpected and unannounced, move.

You’ve got to be always careful on RAGBRAI.

Ottumwa was an especially enjoyable stop this year. The town camp was at a large and beautiful park. There was a concert by Rick Springfield, the one such event I did attend this year. Also, on the way out of town, there was the best food stop of all of RAGBRAI, in my opinion—a magnificent breakfast provided by student groups at Indian Hills Community College.

Eldon added to his Karma when I had a minor situation Friday morning. During the night, one of my foam earplugs had become embedded in my right ear.

That was bad news for several reasons, including that I normally hear better out of my right ear, so my hearing was cut to less than 50 percent. I decided to seek help at a medical tent—but before I did, Eldon decided to see if he had a tool that would help.

What Iowa countryside looks like. Very pretty.

His multi-tool had tweezers, but they were too small. Still, with the pliers part of the tool, he was able to painlessly grab the foam and pop it out of my ear like a cork from a wine bottle.

Highs and lows of this year’s RAGBRAI:

High: One of my daughters discovered and recommended “Not Your Father’s Root Beer,” a sweet and very alcoholic drink that tastes like dreamy root beer. We took to the drink like thirsty RAGBRAI riders, and root beer became the Team Joe official flavor. We took the idea one more step by inventing the alcoholic root beer float—which is quite good.

High: Iowa scenery and the enthusiasm of small town folk.

Low: Riders who don’t understand that “car back,” especially when said car is an ambulance carrying an injured biker, means get the heck out of that left lane.

Low: How the vehicle route is marked. Rather badly, and not at all inside towns.

High: The weather this year. True, we had some rain, but no terrible storm and no soakers. After last week’s heat wave, we can’t complain at all.

Low: It’s over. So suddenly it passes. By Monday, you feel you’ve been on RAGBRAI forever. By Wednesday you realize you are halfway. By Thursday morning, you suddenly understand that there isn’t much RAGBRAI left.

Overall, this was a very nice RAGBRAI, although I would have very much wished for our team to finish full strength. Still, the sister who fell in the shower was able to meet us and ride a few miles on the last day, which was nice.

What do I wish for future RAGBRAIs? Somehow, at some point, I would like to do a full RAGBRAI again—to actually ride all of the miles. I felt in better physical shape this year than I have in the past, and I don’t want to miss any sights. I also wish for safe biking for my team and for all of RAGBRAI.

On the final day, my youngest sister and I stopped at Beekman’s for ice cream. We were running ahead of schedule, and didn’t want to get to Muscatine too early, since we knew we were meeting one of my other sisters there.

The ice cream was good. And our sister was waiting for use in Pearl City, but hadn’t had to wait too long.

Rescue Cindy, at right, woman who aided a fallen member of our team. And below, Rescue Eldon, friend of hearing and Delberts or Dilberts everywhere.

Somehow, that felt like good karma. If you want to, explore more of my photos.

Some RAGBRAI thank yous: Joann, the final stay in Muscatine was perfect. Al and Lorna, you made our night in Washington very easy. Rescue Cindy, wherever you are, Team Joe is a fan. Eldon, gadget guy can even fix up an ear. I feel like a real cyborg. RAGBRAI—I can quibble with details of your efforts, but overall, kudos. You put on a great ride this year.

I hope Team Joe grows a bit next year, although that will depend on the route, to some extent. We shall see. For now, farewell, RAGBRAI 2016. We’ll miss you.

In Which I Bomb the Ditch on RAGBRAI

First town on RAGBRAI was Malvern, where I ran into this Milkweed booth. You could get clay balls loaded with Milkweed seeds to toss in ditches to help spread the plant, which is essential to Monarch butterflied. I loaded up and bombed away.

Monday, July 25--No, don’t worry, “bomb the ditch” does not mean face plant. I picked up some Milkweed seed balls in the magical town of Malvern and tried to strategically drop them in appropriate ditches.

It’s a thing one does on RAGBRAI, these days. One also finds pie and Koi in interesting hidden places, which is part of the magic of Malvern.

I was walking after parking in the first town, seeking breakfast and caffeine. Between two tiny commercial buildings was a fenced lot, with a pie sign. I went in, and found a cute little oriental style garden, dominated by a Koi pond. I had magical pie—some sort of berry I had not tried before—in a magical garden.

Shadows of RAGBRAI on first day's ride.

The second, and only other town I biked to (half day due to driving duties of team support vehicle) was Tabor, which was magical, too. I met Ben and Kate there, had lunch, and then met Cate there. A cat tried to ride along when I left town, but it was a charming stay.

The day had its share of RAGBRAI mishaps. Due to a sequence of misfortune, one half of our team was very late getting in, which messed with evening plans. Cate took a minor spill, but thankfully is OK.

But then we had to put up Brigid and Eldon’s tent, easily the most complex in our little group. It turned into theater, with Ben and Cate and Kate helping as I did a dramatic reading of 11-point directions.

Today, we had rain, we had heat, we had a fall. But, we had a little RAGBRAI magic, too, and that was nice.

NOTE: I wrote this on the first day of the RAGBRAI 2016 ride--but my plans to do a brief daily post quickly fell apart after that, due to time limits and lack of internet access. I'm sure I will do a more comprehensive longer post about the week as a whole, but here is my first RAGBRAI 2016 post. News that is only 6 days old.

In Which I Smell The Scent of RAGBRAI

My sister and I and our bikes, ready to head out to RAGBRAI.

RAGBRAI is an event which is mostly outdoors, and today was a good demonstration of why that is a good idea.

On the 5-hour drive over from Cedar, we watched the thermometer hover in the upper 80s. We may have thought that wasn’t so bad—but wait. When we got to Glenwood, about 2 p.m., the sun was shining. It was brutal. The temperature soared into the 90s, and the humidity made it feel well over 100.

We practically melted. Luckily, the campground is near Glenwood High School, and air conditioned building.

Cate just said it is 77 in Cedar Rapids. Sigh.

Well, the smell in the long line for the spaghetti dinner was a bit on the ripe side, but the dinner was nice. We ate early, long before they ran out of food.

Street painted in downtown Glendwood.

And now I am typing a blog post, mostly to waste time inside the high school. Fortunately, it is not supposed to be so hot tomorrow. I only bike a half day Sunday, and hope to

We shall see!

If you ride RAGBRAI this year, hope you are staying cool tonight. I am hoping for an early start to the adventure tomorrow. I will let you know how it goes.

Here is my Facebook photo gallery.

In Which We Face RAGBRAI

Boyson Road, Cedar Rapids. Morning skies have been a bit dramatic this week, what with overnight thunderstorms.

How do I feel going into RAGBRAI 2016?

A little tired—I woke up at 5 a.m. for no particular reason, on this, the day before the biking starts. I looked at my pile of luggage and realized the goal of “packing light” was a bit elusive (a twin-sized air mattress and pump take a lot of space).

Excited—I woke up at 5 a.m. for no particular reason, on the morning of a car ride across Iowa. It’s a state that is pretty exciting to bicycle across in a week, but not so fun to ride across in a day. Still, I woke up early today, as I think I do every Christmas. I could use a stocking full of candy right about now …

Ready—I think. My weight this morning was 252.3 pounds—my goal was to be in the 240s by RAGBRAI, but since I have in the past flirted with the 260s, I guess I’ll say 252 is OK. We’ll see what a week of pie does. I’ve not put in as many training miles as I wanted—no training century ride, for example—but I have trained. We’ll see if it was enough. But I’m physically feeling fairly ready.

This ride starts in Glenwood, where my first RAGBRAI began, and ends in Muscatine, where 40 years ago I graduated from high school. I didn’t make it to the reunion—honestly, I didn’t really try. High school was not a highlight of my life. Still, it will feel a little like coming home when I cycle into Muscatine.

The images are from Wednesday morning, my final practice rides up the Brentwood Hill. It took a bike bag exchange for me to get the “stuff” for the ride—and I found spare bike gloves just the day before RAGBRAI. So it feels as if my final prep was a bit haphazard, but I guess “a bit haphazard” is a description of my life’s journey so far.

We’ll see how RAGBRAI goes. I am taking a computer (packing light-ha!) so I will try to blog during the ride, although WIFI access isn’t always the best in tiny towns swelled to 10 times normal size by an invading horde of cell-phone toting party animals. Still, stay tuned, America! Or at least the handful of you that are readers of CR biker …

Two more sky views on my next circuit over the Brentwood Drive hill. On Brentwood near Boyson, looking to the east.