RAGBRAI Part 2 (Iowa)
22-29 July 2023
This is Part Two of my account of this year’s ride across Iowa. These posts have been festering in a ‘drafts’ folder for a month and a half and now I’m determined to just get them out. This one is more of a chronological account of the last few days of the ride, combined with some overall observations of the whole spectacle.
Day 5 of RAGBRAI began with a beautiful pre-dawn ride through downtown Des Moines and out of the city to the east. This was the longest and hilliest day of the week-long ride, covering about 90 miles and climbing 4000’. We passed through Newton, where I’d stayed on my eastbound ride in 2019 and Grinnell before ending the day in the twin towns of Tama and Toledo.
Day 6 included Marengo and the Amana villages, but Oxford has become the most memorable pass-through town of the whole trip for me, simply because of the heat. The fire station doors were wide open and there were tables lined with folks enjoying shade and cooling fans and ice cream. There was an old fire truck parked outside and an open hydrant spraying water across the passing riders (all walking their bikes through town). The final 15 miles to Coralville was miserable but misery shared among thousands. It was hilly and hot and humid (‘feels like 113’). People, including me, were stopping at virtually every hilltop farmhouse to sit in the grass under the trees and to empty water bottles over our heads. Everyone was checking on everyone else for signs of heat stroke. And there were clearly several riders along side the road getting attention (from other cyclists and from occasional ambulances).
I arrived at the Pork Belly camp in Coralville around 3:00. I was not looking forward to pitching my tent in the hot sun, so when I heard that they had opened up more space in the nearby Xtreme Arena for a small donation, I jumped on it. I set up ‘camp’ on the concourse, amidst many others. I didn’t even hear the sirens and commotion outside when the storm arrived two hours later. Strong winds were tossing tents around and sending folks fleeing for the arena (which they had opened for everyone by then). Pork Belly moved the dinner service and the band into the arena which was wonderful (this was still mainly just the Pork Belly crowd, so while it was crowded, it was pretty spread out given the size of the facility. Things were crazier in the main RAGBRAI camps). It was so nice to spend a night in an air conditioned space.
Saturday (Day 7) was a very early start because of the potential heat and the urgency about getting to Davenport in time to get the afternoon shuttle back to Omaha. Route finding out of Coralville and through Iowa City in the dark at 5:30 was confusing, in part because the route was designed to go through the University of Iowa and Kinnick Stadium, but that wasn’t actually open until 6:00 am and instructions weren’t clear. The 70 miles went fast and was one of the nicest rides of the trip, in part due to cloud cover. We reached the Mississippi River in Muscatine, but then followed it the final 25 miles to Davenport. I stopped for ice cream at a Beekman’s stand along the way and joined others on plastic chairs along the shoulder cheering the crowd as they rode by (in previous days, the lines at Beekman’s had always been prohibitively long and the lack of cloud cover meant little interest in sitting anywhere without shade).
I dipped my wheel in the Mississippi around 11:00 (I’ve never ridden 70 miles by 11:00 am before!). The boat ramp was crowded, but it was only a few minute wait (I heard that by afternoon the line was much, much longer). I took my time riding along the riverfront park - this is where I crossed the Mississippi River in 2019 on my way west. Then it was a mile uphill to the St. Ambrose campus, where Pork Belly was set up. I put my bike on the ‘Stupidity’ trailer, retrieved my bags, visited the shower truck, grabbed a burger and a drink, and made it onto the first (of 8?) coaches headed back to Omaha that afternoon.
The bus trip was 5-6 hours, all on I-80, but it went by quickly. Everyone was excited about finishing the 7-day ride (and having already ridden 70 miles just that morning). I think we all let our guards down, since I’m pretty sure that’s where I picked up COVID, which I proceeded to share with M and C when I arrived home two days later!
Aside from the heat and the crowds and the lines, RAGBRAI was an amazing experience. I’m really glad I did it. Once. I appreciate that many people will want to do it again and again. But it’s just not the kind of experience I ride for. I like solitude. I like the interaction with locals in their normal lives, not during a traveling festival that has turned their lives upside down for a day. I don’t like heat and mugginess and damp gear that never dries out and sleeping in a tent when the temperature never drops below the high 70s. I’ve always been a bit bugged by the collegiate focus on partying and drinking - which may not accurately characterize most participants, but which was a dominant theme leading up to and during the event. Serving up vodka lemonade slushies in front yards and crowded beer gardens and countless Facebook posts about riding from beer stop to beer stop along the route contributes to this.
I talked to a lot of other riders on this trip. They came from a wide variety of places and personal histories and biking backgrounds. It was a great reminder of how different we all are, in what we’ve done, what we enjoy, and what inspires us, despite the fact that we all share an interest in the same thing and look sort of the same in our Lycra and our helmets.
I spent the week thinking how this ride compared with 2019. That was a tough five days, but if I ever want to ride across Iowa again, that’s the way I’d do it. And while I enjoy the landscapes of the Midwest, I’d rather be riding in the mountains or along the coast, through the forest or in a dramatic urban landscape.
