In Which I Contemplate No Alt RAGBRAI

June 23--Early morning ride on very hot summer day, bike near C Avenue on Lindale Trail.

The last time I didn’t ride RAGBRAI, my family team and I made up for it with alternative, non-RAGBRAI miles. Not so, this year--some are riding some of RAGBRAI while I am sidelined.

As of today, I have biked 711.87 miles in 2025—a pretty low figure for this point in recent years. My riding has been constrained by serious health issues—I had heart bypass surgery in January and was subsequently knocked off two wheels for a while.

I was back to riding in a couple of months, but a lingering heart flutter kept me from longer rides—and now I’m off the bike again due to yet another heart treatment. I developed a heart flutter following my bypass surgery, and the flutter required what’s called a cardiac ablation. On Tuesday of this week, they put me to sleep and snaked a needle through my veins to my heart, where some tissue was frozen to end the errant nerve signals causing the flutter and to put my heart back into normal rhythm.

And now I have to take a week off from most activities, including biking, in order to recover from that procedure. We’ve had some beautiful days this week which I have been watching from a recliner in my living room. Not to complain too much—the procedure was apparently successful and the recovery is far less onerous and lengthy than the one that followed the surgery.

July 10--Above and below--Black Swallowtail Butterfly seen at Hanna Park garden in Marion during bike ride.

Still, no RAGBRAI riding for me this year. Good luck those of you that are setting out Sunday, crossing the state the west to east, I’ll be thinking of you and hoping you have a good ride.

In the meantime, if all goes well (and the first two days of recovery have gone well), I should be back on a bike by the end of next week.

June 13--Pretty day, late afternoon ride, bike at north end of Creek Trail near Tower Terrace Road.

June 14--Two rides totaling more than 14 miles. Evening ride, final one before heart procedure, is to see grandson play baseball in Marion. On the ride, I encounter one of those indifferent deer on the Lindale Trail--it's such a heavily used trail with woods that deer love that they become too used to humans.

I rode over 14 miles on July 14 and had my heart procedure July 15. I expected my miles in June to exceed my May miles. That did not happen—I rode 228.9 miles in May but 228.78 miles in June. So, I was not off much, but weather got more complicated at the end of June and my heart flutter was getting to me, a bit, making my rides shorter.

We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Tomorrow as in the vague future that starts in the second half of next week when I can start riding again. It’s been an interesting summer in Iowa, some very hot weather, but no extreme heat, and the June wet period has lasted into July, when a dry time usually starts.

Recent rides may have been a bit short, but have also been pleasant and pretty. I’m looking forward to rolling across my corner of Iowa again soon—I hope to see some of you out there on the trails next week!

In Which I Have Hope for a Brighter Future

Lights of bike bridge in Marion seen Dec. 18, 2024.

In the end, 2024 didn’t go as I hoped that it would. I didn’t exceed 3,000 miles on my bikes, nor reach my goal of riding 3,300 miles. And I thought, through much of the year, that my miles in 2025 would easily be even more, what with my retiring and having for time for more, longer bicycle rides.

What I didn’t anticipate were some medical bumps in the road. In March, I had a TIA, and was being way more careful after that to not push my bike rides too hard. Yet, as the year drew to its close, I had some dizziness, some light headedness and chest pressure—not pain, but a feeling that something was not right.

As it turns out, my feelings were right, in that something was not right. I ended up having some medical tests which indicated some heart issues, and now I’m going to have heart surgery in early 2025—and Dec. 18, the day before I met with a heart doctor, was my final bike ride of 2024, which was not my life plan.

Well, life is like a bike ride. You can make plans but also must just deal with what you find, what you encounter on the journey. My time on two wheels is on temporary hiatus, probably for several months. Yet, it is likely by March or so I will be ready to roll again.

Dec. 9--Bike ride on Lindale Trail in sunshine--deer traffic on trail. There was winter weather in December, but it was nice enough for biking in most days in Iowa.

I won’t set a mile goal for 2025. I feel like when I start riding again, it will be like starting to ride again, with a body I have to get used to and train from square one. Well, at least the skill of riding a bike won’t have gone away. And heart rehab will be aided by wheeling across the planet, once I’m ready.

At least the months I’m losing—January and February—aren’t prime biking season anyway. While there are no guarantees in this life—as I’m well learning now—my health prognosis is good, with a very high likelihood of being able to get back to biking this year.

We’ll see what is coming.

My last ride, Dec. 18, was an interesting day, one week before Christmas. It’s my wedding anniversary, and after my solo ride, my wife and I went out for a nice dinner.

It was a chilly, grey winter day. I rode down to campus (to get some files I needed for work) and then doubled back along the Cemar Trail. It was a medium ride—cool, but not too cold as I was dressed well.

When I got close to home, the light was getting dim, and I decided to ride down the Lindale Trail. They have completed the trail bridge in Marion that goes across Seventh Avenue, the town’s main drag at that point. I don’t typically ride the trail in dark, but twilight is not full dark. Yet it was dark enough that I hoped to see what the bridge lighting looks like.

Dec. 18--Last biking selfie of the year (above) and bike parked at twilight near bridge.

Well, it was quite pretty, but also obviously set to be decorative from the street—to be a fancy gateway into Marion. The lights are on the exterior of the bridge. They leak enough light onto the bridge deck to illuminate the way there at night, but there is a bit of a ride on a dark trail to get to the bridge from either direction, so I don’t blame the powers that be for illuminating the bridge to look good for drivers rather than plan it to be best for bikers on the bridge, since one would not expect many bikers there at night.

I’m glad I came. The bridge was pretty to see with its lights on, and my twilight strategy worked out OK—I won’t make a habit of a ride at that time, but my bike lights were adequate and I enjoyed the sight, not realizing that is would become my final ride for a while. It all, it was 11.18 miles for the day, almost 95 miles in December and 2,953.83 miles for the year.

Goodbye, 2024. What with one thing and another, it wasn’t quite the year I hoped that it would be, but then again, I suppose, life is never fully what I hope it will be. I still enjoyed almost 3,000 miles rolling across this pretty Earth via bicycle in 2024, and I look forward, after my unexpected break, to continue that kind of journey.

I hope your 2024 went well and that you’ll roll many miles in 2025. And I hope to see some of you out on the bike trails soon enough!

Bike on Cemar Trail near Raining Rose. Gray, cool day. As it turned out, this ride on my road bike Argent was the final ride of 2024. Not what I wanted, but I enjoyed the miles I could ride.

In Which My Achy-Breaky Heart Rides 22 Miles

Late afternoon sun on Cedar Lake, it was a gorgeous day to ride around the lake and a gorgeous day to be alive.

As you know, blog pals, I had some disturbing symptoms on RAGBRAI. Mostly, they were on Tuesday’s long, warm ride.

A spasm in my chest. Fatigue. Dizziness. A burning sensation in my upper left arm. Pins and needles in my left foot.

Whoa, you might say. Did you stop? Did you catch a ride in the cherry-topped sag wagon, aka an ambulance?

Well, no. And I’m not totally cray cray, either. Each of the symptoms is something I've experienced before, and each has an innocent explanation. Fatigue and dizziness can be dehydration. Arm pain can be, well, arm pain. I fought a headwind in the first 20 miles of the ride, and my body was crouched in an unnatural position. Even today, my left shoulder and left upper arm are sore, and it’s muscle and joint soreness from that headwind 10 days ago, not cardiac arrest.

Spasm of pain? Well, I've been treated before for acid reflux, and although I don’t commonly have digestive problems, heartburn is an experience I've had before. So, I could rationalize, drink some water, rest a few minutes and solider on.

But, as the week wore on, the fatigue did not quit. My RAGBRAI team members envied my ability to quickly fall asleep, which is not unusual for me, but it is unusual for me to get 7 hours of sleep and still feel so totally lethargic.

I had little energy for the rest of RAGBRAI, and it worried me, so I went to my doc’s office.

My doctor, by the way, is a very nice lady, but I've rarely seen her. I’m almost always seen by a PA, but that’s OK. Anyway, the PA took my blood pressure (a little too high), listened to my heart (it must have been ca-thumping pretty normally because he said nothing and had no reaction) and took note of my symptoms.

Not classic heart symptoms, he noted. But, on the other hand: “I don’t think you’re here because your left shoulder is sore. I think you’re here because you’re concerned about your heart. And while the symptoms aren't classic, it’s hard for me to ignore a spasm and left side pain. Go to the hospital and get an EKG.”

So off to said hospital I went. The technician didn't shave me before she put the sticky sensors on—she explained that most patients don’t want to be shaved—but lady, I would have gladly been shaved because I knew that what goes on must come off. A few minutes later, I was done. And, OUCH!

Later that day, an aide form the doc called to say preliminary EKG results were just fine. But the office would call the next day with final results.

As fate would have it, the next day’s call was a bit different. I don’t recall all of the details—for some reason, when important medical information is given to me about me I start to quickly fade out into some odd mental limbo—but I clearly recall: "We've made an appointment for you with a cardiologist."

The problem isn't major or imminently life threatening. Or so I suppose, since the lady on the phone didn't seem to be in a hurry and she didn't give me any advice about living like an invalid. The EKG showed a “left anterior fascicular block,” whatever the heck that is. Google gave me lots of confusing disinformation, but the impression I get is that it’s a common problem and is either no big deal or indicates YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.

Then again, my favorite Onion headline of all time is: “Death Rate Continues At 100 Percent.”

I’m not fatalistic about it. I intend to be very serious about getting and following medical advice. I want to live decades more and ride many more RAGBRAIs. And I’ll be calling the PA back, because right now we’re dealing with this one problem—I haven’t really had a full physical checkup.

And “left anterior fascicular block” or not, the real take away for me, the thing that in the long run is probably more personally dangerous given my family history, is the blood pressure.

Anyway, doc talk was Tuesday. I rode my bike 12 miles Wednesday. I rode it again 22 miles today. So far, no spasms of pain and no sudden fatal heart attacks, I’m happy to report.

I’m healthy as a horse. If the horse has an asterisk on its chart and has an appointment with a heart doc. And you knew, didn't you, that I couldn't resist:

In Which I Share My RAGBRAI Wisdom

The ride is almost over and Eldon and I check out the Father of Waters.

Each year, RAGBRAI asks for feedback. Well, I will share some. And each year, other riders don’t ask for feedback, but they’ll get it anyway.

I didn't know about the two deaths on RAGBRAI this year right away—when you don’t camp in the campgrounds, you don’t get the free Registers handed out there, and I was cut off from news. Sad tidings.

Anyway, advice to myself, my team, my fellow bikers and RAGBRAI:

RAGBRAI, mark the darn route more clearly. I don’t mean the bike route—the support vehicle route. It’s marked as it if were being used by bicycles—tiny signs right at the exit you are supposed to use on a 4-lane highway, for instance. If you were riding a bike at 15 mph, you could see and react to that sign. In an SUV at 65? If you’re not watching the map like a hawk (and who wants drivers to do that?) it’s often a case of, “damn, I missed that exit.” And the code is confusing—Pink? Green?

Team Joe, go to the driver’s meeting, or send a representative. Maybe it’s partly our fault the vehicle signs did not make sense. On the other hand, we did scout the destination town and anticipated that traffic would be terrible. The scouting trip was a good idea.

RAGBRAI, add more information to the web site. Easy to find links to planning committee web sites in overnight and meeting towns, for instance. Detailed maps of said towns that show the bike and vehicle routes. I went to the Iowa DOT web site and downloaded maps for our team, which Eldon had printed. Those maps were very useful--but not as easy to get as RAGBRAI could make them.

Our meeting spot after the ride.

RAGBRAI, fill those rumbles. I don’t mean all of them—rumble strips on a flat are amusing, not consequential. But on the final day, in the infamous “W,” which I named that because there is a distinct W shape on the elevation profile due to two consecutive valleys with steep ascents and descents, one rapid downhill run ended in rumble strips. And several RAGBRAI riders ended their rides with broken bones there. I remember whizzing along at something close to 40 mph and seeing the little sign that said “rumbles ahead” and thinking, “really?” Most riders missed that sign because they were moving at car speed. And, as noted, some shattered bones resulted—I didn't see the fall, but I saw one aftermath, and during our break in Garber, several ambulances sped by, from, I’m assuming, deathtrap rumble strips hill.

Riders, "car back” means move over, jerk. Fast bikers often cross the center line. Well, if they have a clear view, OK. But when someone yells “car back,” quickly find a gap and move right, fast peddlers. The “car” is often an ambulance, and it could be a friend or, someday, you in there. For safety’s sake and as a courtesy, make a hole.

RAGBRAI, clone those Edgewood farmers. In the final meet town, the tiny village of Edgewood, farmers on ATVs actually escorted vehicles to specific parking places. It was a slick, nice system. Getting to the town was not so easy—the route markings were confusing and led Eldon and I to drive too far towards Guttenberg (I’m looking at you, RAGBRAI!)—but once you got there, you were briefly detained at city limits until a tan farm man on an ATV took you to a parking place. Our escort said there had been some complaints. We could not figure out why. There was no other town so easy on support vehicles along this year’s route as Edgewood was. Kudos, Edgewood. RAGBRAI, can you find out who planned that stop and hire her or him as “meeting town czar?”

My "Hello Kitty" system worked well--vital supplies, such as this, my bathroom bag, were easy to find. In my bike bag, I had the "on the road" kit in case Mother Nature called, and she did. As I was walking to a kybo holding a small lunch box with vital supplies inside, one lady I passed noted "I love your purse." It was very functional.

CR Joe, train more. I promise on a stack of Participant Guides that I will call my doctor tomorrow (Monday) and make an appointment. I had some symptoms that I described after the ride. My sister said, “I didn't know about the left arm pain.” Her spouse, a nurse, said: “If you feel those symptoms again, go to the ER.”

I’m happy to say I didn't end up the third fatality on this year’s ride. My vital organs are still functioning, although I don’t guarantee at what capacity. No Joe bones were broken, either. Here is my Facebook album of this year's ride. And RAGBRAI was so much fun that I will surely participate again.

After a medical checkup.

Friday morning in Waverly. It was wet. This is Brigid's trike, and she and I drove that morning. I don't think we regret it.