Denver - Oskar Blues I

Eryn and I flew into Denver today to meet my parents and grandmother so we could drive my grandmother back north to the farm in Montana.  Usually we'd head down to Tucson to pick her up, but time was tight with ballet (Eryn, not me), so we only had Sunday morning through Saturday morning to make things happen.  We were still going to head down to Tucson, but my parents wanted to see more of Eryn, so they met us in Denver to trade grandma.  The best thing about that is the beer.  I haven't been to Denver before (just skirted it), and haven't even been in the area long enough to tour a brewery before, so this was my big chance.  I'm not talking about Budweiser and Coors.  I'm talking about good breweries.  Odell.  Great Divide.  Oskar Blues.  Breweries that are like Surly and Summit.

Today we went to Oskar Blues.  Unfortunately, it wasn't doing tours on Easter.  But the restaurant was open, and the guy who was on his way out of the brewery to bike stopped long enough to sell me some G'Knight from the brewery and let me look around for a minute.  Hell of a brewery.  The focus is beer.  Bikes.  Kids.  Fun.  I'm jealous.  That's what a job should look like.

This is a flight from Oskar Blues restaurant, just up the street from the brewery.  Couple of IPAs on the list.  One is 10% and smells like it's made out of crushed flowers, there are so many finishing hops in it.



I liked the flight so much I took a second picture with my stout in the foreground.  As a second beer, I had a glass of TenFidy.  That's like drinking concentrated Guinness.  It's got some real chew to it.


I know this is fuzzy, but vaguely readable, in case you want to know what was in the flight.  Check out the % on the alcohol.  Might as well be drinking two beers for every one.


Ingenious use of a keg.


Eryn trying to "pick up" the keg.


A better attempt.


When that didn't work, she went to a straight fashion shoot.


Girls' bathroom.  Flashdance is how you could tell.  What a feelin'.  I must be peein'.

Eryn and I go to Denver and Sidney...Her Report, 2 Years Later

I found this on my iPad today when I was taking notes.  I noticed there were a few things that were something like 767 days old.  That's weird to see.  Makes it seem like it happened forever ago.  One of the documents was Eryn's homework for her teacher explaining what we had done on our vacation to Denver and then driving her Great Grandma back to Sidney.  She did a pretty good job for typing on an iPad on a train in the middle of the night with an ear ache when she was barely eight.

Five days ago,my Dad and I flew to Denver,Colorado.  We met my grandma, grandpa and great grandma at the hotel La Quinta once we got in Denver.  We took a shuttle to get to get to the hotel.  I walked my great grandma's dog and after we went to Oskar Blues for lunch.  After that my Dad tried to go on a beer tour at a place called the tasty weasel but you could not go on tours on Easter.  The next day my dad got to go on the beer tour  at Great Divide.  I liked to watch the bottling machine then we went to Casa Bonita for lunch. I got a flasher when we where there.  We also saw divers at Casa Bonita. 

The next day we said bye to my grandma and grandpa we drove, and drove stopped for lunch drove some more and got to Hot Springs.  For dinner we went to All Star and the wings were the best ever!  We got a room at a Best Western and I got to swim!  The next day we went to the Mammoth Site.  We saw mammoth bones,tusks,and teeth. 

We also saw a sink hole inside the building.  I got a stuffed mammoth there and then we drove lots more and got to Medora.  I got a dragon in Medora.  We stayed at the Badlands hotel.  They had a really cool mini golf course that unfortunately I did not get to play on.the next day we got to sidney,montana and to my great grandma's trailer.  Later we set up my great grandma's garden.  We slept in her fold-out bed and then at five p.m. We went to the train station and my great grandma drove back to her trailer.we got in our sleeper car at seven,had dinner with another family,and then went back to our car.   

I played with Ipad for little while then went to bed,woke up in the middle of the night with an earache,went to the bathroom,my dad and I went to the View car, went back to our car,and went to sleep.  When I woke up my ear was all better and we went to breakfast with another person and then we went back to our car,got our stuff,and got off the train in st.paul.

Vacation: Room 204

Welcome to Room 204 at the Super 8/Ramada Wheat Ridge (Denver).  we hope you enjoy your stay.  This sign will be the nicest experience of your stay.  You say you book sight unseen based on a Booking recommendation and a pool for your daughter?  Non-refundable, so make the best of it.



Smart guy - you checked for bed bugs, unlike one of the travels at Trip Advisor.  Sure, the toilet overflowed on the last day and you had to go tell the front desk staffer who seemed clueless about what to do even though you assured them you'd turned the water off so it wouldn't flood the room below.


It's a bad sign when even the vents are bent.  I wonder what someone was hiding up there.  Maybe this reviewer has an idea? (via Google)

"HOLY CRAP. YOU BETTER PROMISE ME KNOW ONE EVER GOES TO THIS PLACE YOU MIGHT GET PIMPED OUT SERIOUSLY. it was like watching cock roaches scatter in the night outside the window. ME and my friends took turns watching car and people go in and out after getting with what we assumed was prostitutes. There was plenty of Drug dealers and THE ROOMS WERE DISGUSTING AND SMELLED, the doors trimming were you shut and locked it looked as if it was kicked in a lot so they kept replacing the trimming. It felt unsafe even with the doors locked being there. If you're a family traveling looking for a decent price for a night this ain't worth it, spend the extra money and go somewhere nice this place is GHETTO. I live in Detroit and I wouldn't even stay here or wish this place of living on my worst enemy."



This hole isn't so bad - maybe it's just for a very big cable/satellite wire.  And maybe the ants coming out of it were laying the cable.  Then again, maybe it was a hidey hole.  What do you think reviewer #2?

"There was a group of young individuals in the lobby talking about a party they were having at the hotel. One individual was talking on his cell phone in the lobby, explaining how he could get any drug they wanted. We were apprehensive to stay as we did not want a loud party to interrupt our sleep."



Ah, the pool.  Looks nice from here.  But from here you can't see the health department sign on the gate declaring it closed down that last day.  Or the disappointed look on my daughter's face.  Other reviews seem to state that's almost always the case, and Eryn found a review describing homeless people bathing in it.  I suspect they weren't really homeless.  There seemed to be a bungalow full of migrant workers right next to the pool.  If their shower/bath facilities worked as well as ours, they were probably making due.  Albeit in a way the health department did not approve of.  Hey, other reviewer, didn't you want a place with a pool?

"Wanted a place with a pool. They advertised a pool but after I checked in we went to find the pool and they didn't have one. They used to but said it was in bad shape. I told them that is why I picked them to stay in and said I wanted a refund so I can find a place with a pool. The front desk lady acted like she couldn't do that and had to get special permission from someone on the phone. We just checked in.... I was serious and stood there with my kids and our luggage until I received a refund. She finally got a hold of someone and they offered to let me drive to another one of their locations that had a pool. I thought that was just so nice of them (sarcastic), but decided to go ahead since I was going to have to go find another hotel anyway with a pool (they offered me absolutely nothing for my inconvenience and acted like I was asking for a lot). I drove to the new location. The original location had a free full breakfast. This new location was in a bad neighborhood, did not have the same breakfast facility, and wasn't clean. But I was there and we were going to make the best of it. It did have a pool. We went into the room and it was so thick with cigarette smoke (and something else I'm not sure of) my sons and I couldn't breath (it was a non smoking room). The room was extremely dirty. The sheets had black spots and the cover to the bed had something hard and crusty on it. I felt like crying. We were in Denver because my uncle died and I wanted to have a relaxing night with some fun with my boys. The whole afternoon and going into night was the most frustrating I have had to ever deal with during travel. I'm not very picky, but this was bad. I decided to call the super 8 headquarters because I was hoping they would be able to refund my money because where I was at was not where I originally paid. The second location was comping my room since I already paid at the other place."



The nicest, cleanest light switch.  If you weren't willing to touch them, then you couldn't really see them.  At least at night.  Bonus.  That hair dryer doesn't do anything.  It's for show.  How clean was it other reviewer?

"I wouldn't even give this place one star. I'm here with my kids and fiance and let me just say ew. We asked for a non smoking room it smells like a bar the door doesn't look like it's secure and did I mention the twakers downstairs. Never again this is f***ING disgusting."



The shower/tub referred to above.  We didn't try it until morning when I realized the shower didn't work at all.  So I tried to take a bath, but there was no plug.  So I used a washcloth to stop it up.  But I was concerned it would overflow into that hole in the tub.  The sunglass-ed woman I saw bringing her breakfast back to her room despite admonitions not to (who was trying hard not to look at me) seemed to have it all worked out.  I'm pretty sure she hadn't taken a shower in an extremely long time.  She didn't look like she'd even been in the sun in a long time.


The door.  The frame had been pried up in several places with a crowbar and the chain was attached to this loose piece of framing.  I put several large items in front of the door before we went to bed so there would be some warning.  I was more worried about my father in law's car, but it remained unmolested.  The only shady characters I saw in the lot were the two janitors who spent an hour picking dirt out of cracks (literally about a handful) rather than picking up the obvious fast food trash in their lot.


Here's the plaster hitting the floor from the frame.  They sunk the frame an inch deep into the wall, so when it started to pull out it was pulling half the wall with it.  Fortunately, it was a relatively rain free and stranger free night unlike for this reviewer:

"The girl at the desk at no idea what to do when the tornado warning said to seek shelter. She also did not believe my husband when he said there was someone in the room we were assigned. We had to embarrass the people and ourselves!"



Did I forget anything?  The awful breakfast with the grease all over every surface and the two guys (one older, one younger with a family) arguing about who was more religious and what appropriately speaking tongues sounded like?  The people sort of sitting in chairs staring at people in the dark?  The customers showing up only to sit in the entry for 30-60 minutes despite their being no other customers?  The food on the walls in the other building?  The amazingly dirty carpets?  The smell of musty smoke everywhere?  If you're in the Denver area, buck up, spend some extra cash, and follow this international advice:

"Schmutzig, musste 30 Minuten auf das Personal warten um das Zimmer zu bekommen. Pool geschlossen. Einrichtung völlig veraltetet."

Vacation: Kearney, Nebraska

We drove to Colorado on vacation.  I had originally planned to bring my bicycle, but my wife swapped cars with my father in law, and I wasn't willing to put the first scratches on his new SUV with my bones rack.  Some day I'll have to get back out there with my bike, or fly in and rent one, and bike the trail between Vail and Breckenridge.  It's probably more just coasting, but it looked like a lot of fun (it was pouring as we came down the mountain, so that part wouldn't have been any fun).

On the way out we stopped at the halfway mark around Kearney, Nebraska.  My wife wanted to check out the Great Platte Archway, a pioneering museum that crosses the interstate and looks like it might have once been one of those commercial places that span highways.  Unfortunately, we rolled in with only an hour or so to spare on Saturday night and decided to wait until the next morning when it was supposed to open at 9 a.m. or so according to AAA.  But the Great Platte Archway doesn't read AAA, and didn't open until noon.  Well past our timeline for moseying on to Denver.  Instead, we just wandered around outside.  A number of other folks were using the AAA guidebook as well and were there with us, staring at the closed building.

I wandered around the grounds picking up trash and checking out what we could see.  We were assured by one couple who was there three hours too early that they'd been there a decade before and it was wonderful.  Good to know.  So here are pictures of us doing pretty much nothing.

The museum itself is pretty cool looking.  There seem to be two floors up there, although it could just be a very open space.  Who's to say.


This is the horse atop the right hand tower.  It looks a little like a flying Blucifer from the Denver airport, which Eryn had us go out of our way to say on the nighttime trip home.  No light up eyes though - at least not during the daytime, or the daytime prior to noon opening hours.


Jen and Eryn did spend a lot of time feeding the fish.  Perhaps just to mock all the folks fishing who were required to stay at least 50 yards away from the bridge.  I bet it's harder to fish when all the fish go to the bridge to eat.  There's a trail from here through town.  Missed bicycling opportunity #1.


A maze that was also closed.  Eryn said she would have liked to try it.  I picked up some geotagged trash just to show we were there and didn't bother to get lost.


Fortunately, there was a statue I could touch inappropriately and almost no one around to frown at me for it.


Eryn and Jen checking out some of the native and pioneer buildings near the museum along the bike path.  Jen thought that was a bunny hutch, but if it was, then you put the bunnies in and force them through the bottom until the chaff is out of the bunnies.  Maybe pioneers did that sort of things.  I can't really say.  I was more a Tudor/Stuart history guy.


Eryn looking like she just finished up a pioneer rap song.  Here I be, in my lean too teepee, You might think it's the funnies, but I'm all about chaffing bunnies. Word.


There's a big area inside this mound where you can get a lecture during open hours.  My best picture is actually the litterati picture I took from inside the Pawnee Hidatsa Lodge.  No set up - I try never to move the trash unless it's merely to flip it over to see who produced it.


And the wire bison.  These kept my wife busy for 20 minutes or so.  I bet she has a few hundred pictures on her camera.  I'm glad I don't have to sort them.  I took two - one of them I permanently deleted because it was a lot like the other one.  Go figure.  That was Kearney.  We stopped on the way back as well, but only long enough to grab breakfast at Perkins while we waited for the sun to come up because I was getting tired after driving all night.  I'm glad we hit the halfway point on the way out - straight through in a car was too much.

Great Divide - Denver

I cajoled my family into going to two breweries while we were in Denver. The second day we went downtown to Great Divide. If a cop asks, I'll say it's just a story, but I was angling to eliminate three generations of my family downtown that day. Five people in the car, four of them talking while I was driving in a circle trying to zero in on the brewery. I sort of forgot there were things like stoplights. A few other drivers were keen to remind me they existed.

You'd think it would have been easier to find with a big beer bottle hanging off the corner of the building.


And an amusing beer truck out front.


My grandma and mother were enjoying the sun.  Keep in mind we were in the mile high city, and it was relatively toasty out, even with the snowy mountains nearby.  Compare that to a few days later when it snowed 7" in Sidney, or when it was 30 degrees for the Ironman here in Minnesota.  Grandma looks great for 95.


The bottling room.  Can you tell I spent some time in the taproom prior to the tour?  I was enjoying some of their casked beer which was running closer to the 10% alcohol range.  A few of those on top of the tasting glasses, and it was definitely having an effect.  Eryn LOVED the bottling machine.  They were loading a palate of bottles into it while we were there.  It just picks them off one row at a time and feeds them into the line.  Hasenpfeffer Incorporated!  John from work told me there's a name for it - something like "the paletizer."  For obvious reasons.  There were also kegs - whiskey kegs - in the brewery for making the casked beer (delicious).  I asked the tour guide about them, and she said they were a local brewery, Stranahans.  Kyle said he though Stranahans and Great Divide traded in kind - casks for mash to distill.  They have a tour as well, so when I go back, that's a definite destination.  Apparently they do limited bottlings (140) of whiskeys with names like "SCW Triplewood Snowflake".  If it tastes as good as the name, I bet it's wonderful.

Reexamining this picture, I really do look soused.  It doesn't help that my pants don't actually fit and I look like I need a rope belt with them sort of sticking out the top of my leather belt.


Eryn wasn't so sure she wanted me to take this picture, although she thought it was pretty funny.


She drank so much she was dancing on street poles afterwards.  I like this picture because she's smiling and cute, and there's a hidden brewery in the background as well as a bike.  Beer, bike, Eryn...definitely things that make vacation enjoyable.

Things I learned on my trip from Denver to Montana

LissyJo, my sister, is afraid of "Grandma's Fireworks" and hides under the dash when she is confronted with them.  Apparently she was afraid of lightning as a child.

Drew, my brother, is a little tyke who was obsessed with dollar pancakes as a child and would demand them from waitresses.

My father used to call any horse with more than one color a "two pieces".  This link on equine coat color at wikipedia is for him so he knows whether he's looking at a piebald or pinto.

Firehouse Brewing in Rapid City is not as exciting the second time round.  Perhaps it was my starvation the first time, or the lack of 3/4 of the beers I asked for the second time.  My food and beer were good, they just weren't as good as what I had in Denver.

I like the print "Dakota Nation" by JoAnne Bird.  I also like Paul Goble's prints.

Riding in a closed environment with grandma for 3 days after she's been sick makes everyone else sick.

Eating with strangers on the train is the best.  I got to talk Princess Mononoke, Howl's Moving Castle, hear a story about a dead body, and meet two very fun travelers (both female and neither with a ring, in case Kyle is looking for a singles opportunity).

I'm very very lucky.  How else to account for missing so much hail it looked like a snow storm in the 30 miles leading up to Hot Springs, SD, and missing the 7 inches of snow at Sidney and Williston?

Eryn says "All Star Grill and Pub" in Hot Springs has her favorite wings of the trip.  I learned that it's possible to survive on a long tip on just wings and Shirley Temples.

All Star Grill and Pub was advertising Monte Criscos.  I assumed this was wrong.  It's a Monte Cristo.  However, the Crisco message board implies that if you go the recipe from them, it might just be referred to as a Monte Crisco.  By the way, if you eat Monte Cristos, I dare you to look up the calories.  That's some serious food.

In Hot Springs, it is not outside the realm of reason to tour the Mammoth Museum during the morning, and then go to "The Flood and Fossils: Record of the Lost World" at the 7th Day Adventist church in the evening.  I missed a practical theologian debating evolution with a scientist and presenting "evidence you cannot miss!" by just a day.

It is possible to find a geocache without a GPS if you just search the rest stops.

"Wild horse sanctuary" seems like an oxymoron.

You can be a friend of E470 on Facebook.

The Fall River County Republicans are illiterate, otherwise they wouldn't refer to the "Fall River County Republican's Lincoln Day Dinner."

Mammoth Springs has a merit badge program for scouts.  That's for Ming's benefit, should he ever find himself near Hot Springs.

Casa Bonita - Denver

I'm not sure I liked Casa Bonita.  It seemed a bit cheesy, which is never my favorite motif.  But Eryn loved it and had a great time, and that's what counts.  I can handle a bit of cheesy if it keeps the kid happy.  Casa Bonita is this restaurant in a somewhat rundown part of Denver that has a big tower out front, serves food reminiscent of Don Pablo's, and features entertainment, the highlight of which is local divers from the college who dive off faux cliffs into a deep pool.  There are also western gun fights, a game room, a haunted tunnel (which Eryn refused to traverse after noticing there was a strobe light.  She hates strobe lights), and dancing monkeys, which were actually a dancing ape if you want to be precise in your nomenclature.

Grandma and great grandma walking up to the restaurant.  What you're not seeing is the run down strip mall with almost no one in the cracked parking lot or the couple fighting about lost keys before going to work. But they do a good job of maintaining the tower and fountain area - they looked nice.


The entry area fountain.  Eryn getting a happy picture taken.


Me doing what I do at fountains.  Can't go to lunch half full.


Inside the restaurant watching the divers.  Obviously enjoying herself.


We didn't notice this until later, but there was a very nice area behind the falls in the restaurant (at the back side of the pool) where there were fake rock walls and some booths.  It looked like a good place to have dinner, except I can't imagine Casa Bonita being the place for a romantic evening (lots of kids, and Don Pablo's food factored in).


They had a gift shop, although you could also buy toys on the floor and a waitress was wandering around with toys from table to table. Eryn wanted a "flasher" (her words and Casa Bonita's words, not mine), and got my usual "are you sure?" when confronted with cheap toys. But Grandma was easier to convince and got her this nice laser gun. I include a video so you can appreciate exactly how annoying it was whenever she got it in her head to shoot it for 5 or 10 minutes in the van during the drive.


We took this picture for Eryn's cousin who loves My Little Pony.  I don't think LissyJo would like Casa Bonita, so I'm doing my part to ensure she ends up there.


If there's already a driver, why are you also driving?  Who wins?  The painted guy who's been practicing forever or the kid in the sunroof?  The hole in the wall is fake derelict so you can imagine you're driving through a slum.


A fun time, despite my snarky comments.

Vacation: Concerts

My family was supposed to plan vacation, but in the interest of making sure there was something to do, I scheduled two concerts at the Chatfield Botanical Garden annex.  It was a nice place, near the mountains in Denver and not too big.  We sat just left and behind the sound and light controls for both concerts and had a great view.  Surprisingly, with the marijuana laws, it didn't smell like smoke at all.  The timing of all those smoking laws fit well with the relaxing of the marijuana laws.  So I suspect people are eating it and using oil, but not puffing.  That was nice.  Smoke in any form is no fun at a concert.

Here's Sara Bareilles.  That was the second night.  It was a good concert except for the women next to us getting louder and louder as they drank more and more.  I'd have preferred they toked up (well, in a fashion - eaten a brownie, I guess). I bet they'd have been mellower on pot rather than alcohol.  I thought I'd lost my sunglasses as we were finishing up and I was able to go back and scan the area by locating their nest of empties.

I was a bit disappointed she didn't sing Gonna Get Over You.  One of my favorites.



Eryn preferred the concert the night before by The Barenaked Ladies.  I've got to say, they did a great concert.  Good patter, good songs, all the favorites, and a montage of modern pop at the end including Wrecking Ball that was hilarious, followed by a lot of extra songs that weren't there's and serious bouncing around.  A smaller audience than Sara Bareilles who seems to draw an LGBT crowd and larger percentage of young women overall, but an enthusiastic crowd as evidenced by the fingers.  Wooo!


Eryn went up to the stage after the concert and came away with a set list that now decorates our refrigerator.  She told me the next night over and over how she wished that concert would have been second because it was obviously going to be the better of the two.  Then she tried to read her book in the dark to prove herself right.  Well her you go daughter, BNL is second here.

Vacation: Golden

We spent one evening, though not the night, in Golden, Colorado.  Reminded me a lot of parts of the Twin Cities.  A very hippy vibe for sitting next to the Miller/Coors brewery.  We checked out the local fair that was going on so Eryn could slide down the giant bouncy slide, walked along the river where lots of people were tubing despite the rain, and had dinner at Woody's Wood Fired Pizza, which was excellent and had particularly friendly service.

I know this photo doesn't look like it's raining, but you can see some of the clouds in the next one.  Then again, maybe I just remember rain the whole time despite it not raining the whole time.  Everywhere we went was somewhat flooded or raining.  In Colorado Springs.  In Denver.  Near Vail and Breckenridge on the mountain.  I noticed in the news it rained more after we left - as in more frequently and with more intensity - the whole state must have been a giant pool for a while.

Here's the brewery.  Doesn't look like a major source of conservative politics from here.



There's a little pioneer town along the river.  Eryn fed the chickens.  Our vacations seem to involve feeding animals.  There's a little train that runs up and down the river (no tracks) and you have to be careful not to get run over.


Golden seems to be something of an artist community slash resort town.  So there's a lot of art along the river as well.  I took the opportunity to avail myself of posing with a few of the statue installations.  I sang.


And I read.  But I did not touch any of these statues inappropriately as I did the buffalo earlier.  Some statues you just have to leave alone.

RAGBRAI XXXV - Cedar Falls to Independence - Day 5

July 26th, Cedar Falls to Independence - 62.9 miles, 1505 feet of climb. Went through Cedar Falls, Denver, Klinger, Dunkerton, Fairbank, Otterville and Independence.

This shall be referred to as THE DAY JOHN DITCHED ME! That's right. Left behind to rot without so much as a tube and tire wrenches, and he wouldn't answer his phone. I blew yet another spoke, but this time close enough to a town to double back a mile and a half to get it fixed. I told Dad to meet me in the next town, to which he agreed as he sped off. So when I reached the next town, he wasn't at the beginning of town. And he wasn't at the end of town. Then after another complete loop, he wasn't at the beginning or end again (I was worried he'd hidden in a porta potty). So I called. And called again. And his phone would pick up immediately because it was off. So finally I left him 2 or 3 grumpy messages and biked off toward the anchor town...where he was waiting for me. Grumble. I hate riding without a spare. In the end, it didn't matter, but that's for day 7.

There were some interesting people on the road. There were two young women in bikini tops pulling a dachshund in a burley. It doesn't get much more Freudian than that. It really struck me as something Tall Brad might appreciate, had they been kissing the wiener dog, and each other.

And there was once again a guy rolling along in his recumbent listening to Chicago 16 on his iPod speakers. How can you bike to Chicago 16? When I was fifteen or so, I had two girls give me copies of Chicago 16 for the same birthday. One was my girlfriend. I suspect the other wanted to be. But even so, I didn't load it up on my walkman (oh yeah, walkman - I had one, and it was sometimes strapped to the bike with speakers) and go tooling around Monti blaring it at the world. If I had, someone would have beat me up. Appropriate '80s biking music is Eye of the Tiger and Funkytown and Prince. Not the mellow sounds of, "It's hard to say I'm sorry...I just want you to know...after all that we've been through, I will make it up to you...I promise to..." It's just too hard to pedal while you're crying to breakup music.

And the jogger was out again. 62.9 miles of biking, and then she was out running for 2 hours after the ride. Crazy - short, deeply tan, hot-bodied, crazy woman. I can only assume there are many triathlons in her future.

We had a particularly unique shower experience. It was in the local carwash. They ran pvc tubing to the sprayers and hung dozens of yards of blue plastic tarp to make individual showers. There was a big tarp between the men's side and the women's side, and you could see the naked shapes drying off behind the tarp, like when George is watching the nurse give a sponge bath on Seinfeld. There were a few thirteen or fourteen year old boys in the showers trying desperately not to watch the silhouettes with their father standing there.


Here's a Dad with his kids in a burley. Twenty-four ice-cold kids with tab tops. He was pulling around a cooler full of beer in his Hooters-adorned trailer. It's good to be so focused on your priorities.


I saw a few Ron Paul signs before this one - but this is the first candidate sign I saw in someone's yard.


The Armstrong bus and Armstrong RV. Forward attack vehicles for the Livestrong Army, complete with generators, LP tank, and large screen t.v. Needless to say, I'm sure he slept more comfortably than I did.


I wanted to provide a picture of the baggage trailer, so you can see how much luggage is hauled from town to town. There's actually a little more than this hauled on the communal transportation, because the Army stepped in to haul some of it in their trucks when there was overflow.


When the truck gets to the other town, they sort of tip and and just dump the baggage out in rows. So don't take luggage you love, it's going to get scuffed. And don't strap a pump to the outside of your luggage that you love, it's going to get dents and scratches. And pack your breakables in the middle surrounded by the softer items like your sleeping bag and mattress and pillow, so they're safe. Safe from the scuffing and breaking - I still had things like the lining in the stuff bag for my sleeping bag and some gel tablets that were beginning to melt as the luggage sat in the heat. Here's a picture of the dumped luggage. Until 6:00 p.m. they put two people in charge of it who match the tag on your wrist to the tag on the luggage. After 6:00, it's out there sitting in the lot unclaimed. We saw a lot of that - it seemed to be people who were spending the night at someone's house, and would show up in the morning to load it back onto the semi.

Some people slept under the semi on cots. Instant shade. Probably much better than in the little ovens that were our tents.


I had to put up my picture of this guy - the one on the far right. He stopped our shuttle bus to ask the driver where Iowa Avenue was. The driver told him, and he said he didn't understand. A passenger explained. He said he didn't understand. Finally, one of the other passengers said, "Why don't you ask the guy on your team with the sign, Dumbass." Another passenger piped in with, "We were all thinking it."


I didn't take kindly to being ditched. They had to bury poor John in an unmarked grave in Independence, Iowa. This picture is for my grandmother as I'm sure it will get her all wound up - bad karma and all. It's not like it says his name.


I guess you don't want to be a skank on RAGBRAI. Someone will play tricks on your bike.


This bastard biked his sail bike all the way across the state. He wasn't a single day rider - he rode every day. And almost every day, the wind was going against the ride. That made it less of a sail and more of an anchor. Nevertheless, he pulled into town about the same time as us most days.


There's a big mill in Independence where unnameable hoary shamblers dwell, awaiting to arise and devour body and soul. What? That's the Necronomicon Mill, not the Wapsipinicon Mill? Sorry. But the rock you sit on to be the king of Scotland was there... Get it? Probably not funny if you don't know my name is Scott. Probably not funny if you do. The mill was open until a few years ago, grinding flour. Big place - there are some more pictures below.


Entertainment for the evening consisted of a guy riding around on a giant tricycle doing tricks. I wasn't there for the actual tricks - just the aftermath of when they carted him away and tossed him in the river, leaving behind his giant, silly trike.


The Mill from the other side of the falls. To the right you can see one of the shady campgrounds you'd have access to if you have private sag. Independence may be the town where one of the riders went for a swim in a tributary and got pulled down under the dam. Another rider, a gym teacher, pulled him out, and by the time the ride was over, he still hadn't come out of his coma. Someone noted that it's not a RAGBRAI until someone dies - which is horrible, but apparently almost a truism. He might have almost drown in Dyersville - I was never certain.


The grain bins inside the mill - just to give you an idea of how big they were - they go up from the second row of windows in the picture above to top floor.


And the mill from the front, as we were coming back from a run for beef jerky and milk. Mmm.... Their sign says they'll deliver anywhere in town.


For a while, in the evening, everyone was watching the weather on the high school television trying to see if it was going to pour 2" in an hour and wash us away, but by 9:00 the potential storm had been downgraded. My Dad wasn't watching the weather, because he was getting a massage from a sneaky masseuse who had snuck under the radar of approved masseuse-vendors to give him a leg massage. Creepy - but way less creepy than the old guys on the sides of the road in some towns who were offering roadside massages on what looked like massage tables they'd hauled out of the basement. You kept wondering why they had one, and if they were licensed, or if they just liked to rub firm, tense bikers.

The rain did show up, just not 2". And when it did, our waterproof Target tents sprung leaks. I stuffed all my equipment, including my sleeping bag, into the plastic bags and slept under my raincoat so the dripping water wouldn't wake me up - although the resulting sauna caused me to reposition now and then. My Dad, on the other hand, stayed in his sleeping bag and all the water leaking into the tent ran to where he was sleeping (because that's where there's a depression) and soaked into his sleeping bag. I tried to wake him up to tell him we should throw our ground cloths over the tent, but he wouldn't wake up, so I gave up.

Moral: make sure your waterproof tent is waterproof. I recommend setting it up in your back yard next to the wave sprinkler and then sealing anything that leaks with cheap nail polish. We're lucky it didn't rain for a few days in a row or we'd have been pretty miserable.