Refueling

Yesterday was epic.

I rode my bike 153 miles -- from Sioux City to Algona. From 7:30 am to 9:00 pm, on the first day of RAGBRAI XXXVIII, I managed to do the entire distance of the first two RAGBRAI days and covered over a third of the mileage for the week.

I started the day in Sioux City with my buddy Clint, his girlfriend and a bunch of their friends, and really wasn't sure how far I was going to ride.

The plan for me was to go at least 100 miles but I wasn't sure if I could do over 150.

I had a blast riding with Clint, Abbey, Bill D, Megan, John, Mike, Dan, Micky and Betsy. Team Groucho is a fun group and I'm really looking forward to riding with them again a couple times this week.

After about 40 miles with the group, I had to take off on my own so I could keep moving along for the day.

I ended up in Storm Lake at around 2:00 pm, fueled up with a gyro and lemonade and was ready to take off on my own, down the empty county roads --- when I got a flat tire.

My CO2 cartridge over-inflated my spare tube and I was forced to carry my bike for a 1/2 mile to get a new tube and find a pump.

Finally, at around 3:30 pm I was leaving Storm Lake and pedaling toward Varina, Pocahontas, Plover, West Bend, Whittemore and Algona.

The country roads that would be so busy in less than a day were empty. Just a few cars driving into Storm Lake but none of the hullabaloo of RAGBRAI -- just me, my bike and the open road.

I stopped at a four-way intersection to call my dad with an update, take in some energy gel and have a drink of Gatorade.

A truck drove by and the farmer yelled out to me, "Problems?"

"Nope," I replied, "just refueling."

As I looked at the route ahead, I kind of felt like Tom Hanks character at the end of Cast Away.

Four directions that I could turn but only one of them was laid for me. The route clearly marked.

I'm not sure why but I suddenly thought the farmer's question seemed like a bigger deal.

Like he was a character in a movie asking me if I had problems with life, not just a problem on the side of the road.

What direction was I going to take? Turn left? Turn right? Follow the path?

Of course, on this day the plan was to follow the marked route and I would do so all the way to Algona.

But part of me wondered when I was going to choose to not follow the route.

Maybe the problem has been that I've been following the route too closely.

I guess you could argue that riding 153 miles in one day isn't really following the path but when the guys you're riding with teach English in Poland and set up Ironman triathlons, you start to wonder if your life is a bit, well....blah.

I pushed on toward Algona and made short stops at a Casey's in Pocahontas for pizza and a Red Bull and just before Plover for a beer and to see the 100-foot slip n slide.

The last 33 miles were really tough but I got into Algona at 9 pm and met my dad at the McDonalds (we had arranged a meeting place at 7:30 pm).

I felt such a sense of accomplishment as we drove home. I had pushed myself to the limits and had come through the other end of the ride with one of those endorphin highs.

I might have had "problems" the day before but on this day I was refueling my body, my mind and my spirit with the invigorating, powerful, high-dosage version of life.

Any problems I had just vanished away for a while.

Enjoy the ride,
Damm