Day 7 Mt, Pleasant - Burlington
Throughout RAGBRAI, I found myself waking up earlier and earlier. On this particular morning, my wake-up call came at 4:30 AM from a passing train. But I didn’t mind, I loved having that quiet hour to myself, turning off “parent mode” for some peaceful self-reflection. The first time I slipped out for coffee, I dashed to the truck as quickly as I could, more worried that Lionel might wake up and cause a scene if he couldn’t find me than for his safety, as everyone around us knew him. However, the opposite problem usually occurred, getting Lionel out up was the usual challenge. As I returned to camp, another train blared by, and from the distance, I heard a familiar “DADDDDYYYYYY - DADDDDDDDDY.” I wasn’t thrilled about Lionel potentially waking up other riders, but after two more train horns, I figured the entire campground was awake.
Lionel and I packed our bags leisurely and headed to the breakfast tent for some Gogurt and peanut butter protein balls. We shook hands with many of our tent neighbors, bidding them farewell before departing at the late hour of 7:00 AM. Our first stop was just outside Mt. Pleasant, where we had a final interview with writer Curt Swarm for an online paper. After a brief fifteen-minute ride, we were in the back of Curt’s truck, enjoying lemon muffins. Lionel, however, was restless. Watching riders pass us by, he urged, “Come on, Daddy, we’re getting passed!” By this point, he was also understandably a bit “interviewed out.” I bought some time by playing a Safety Sheriff Labrador episode for him, but soon, even I was getting listless. After saying goodbye to Curt, we hit the road again around 8:00 AM and began to pedal.
Day 7 was supposed to be comically easy, a short route with only about 1,000 feet of elevation gain. But the first leg was anything but easy. My body ached, I could barely sit on the seat, the sun was already out, and my caffeine high had worn off. I had also gotten used to having a pass-through town every 8-12 miles, but today there was only one pass-through town, Mediapolis, which was 23.5 miles from Mt. Pleasant. For the first time, pessimistic thoughts crept into my mind in the morning. I kept thinking about how, on any other day, we would have been there by now.
As we approached Mediapolis, which had a banana theme, there were signs along the road with banana jokes spaced out every quarter mile. The questions would lead to punchlines like, "Why did the banana get arrested? Because he got mixed up with a few bad apples." These jokes helped break up my negative thoughts and brought some good chuckles from Lionel. When we pulled into town, we saw Brenda one last time. While we were in the medical trailer, Xiao Hong called, and Brenda was surprisingly impressed to hear Lionel talking a mile a minute in his native Chinese. With fruit snacks in hand, we made a bittersweet farewell to our best friend on RAGBRAI.
Before heading out, I decided to refuel with some cold oatmeal and a banana. We had another 23 miles to go, but with some sustenance in the belly I felt I could now at least appreciate some of the ride instead of counting down the miles until it could all be over.
The ride towards Burlington was about as perfect as it could be—smooth, flat, and beautiful. Lionel wanted to go as fast as possible to beat Grammy and Mommy to the end town. I was fine with that idea, though my “fast” seemed to be about half of what I could crank out in the previous days. When I saw a sign that said “10 more miles,” I was flooded with a wide range of emotions. “How can I possibly pedal another 10 miles? I need this to be over now.” And yet, “10 miles? I’ve come all this way, and now it’s all going to end in just a measly 10 miles?” Never have I wanted something to end so badly, and never have I enjoyed something quite as much as this ride.
Five miles north of Burlington, I made Lionel stop—despite his protests—at a girls’ softball stand. His objections were quickly quelled when he sank his teeth into a home-baked snickerdoodle. These team stands were always my favorite stops on the trip, and this one was up there with the best. They had as many options as a mid-sized convenience store, with everything home-baked. The softball team even had water soakers to cool off riders zipping by. While slipping off to the backwoods to use the bathroom, a rider stopped us to say that she had read about us in the newspaper and to congratulate us. It was a cool moment, cut short by Lionel’s insistence that we find the bathroom immediately. After saying goodbye to the wonderful softball team and continued towards the Mississippi.
After living 12 years in China, I’m somewhere between the metric and imperial systems. When driving, I prefer miles, but when running or biking, I enjoy kilometers as it feels like you’re progressing more quickly. The last five miles could have been measured in eons and were an emotional whirlwind. I was pretty choked up heading into town. The ride into Burlington was naturally and emotionally beautiful.
Pulling into Burlington, there was a massive line to dip your tire into the Mississippi. Not one for lines or pictures, I contemplated skipping the whole thing. After all, I can access the Mississippi ten minutes from my parents’ home in Saint Paul. But while in line, Xiao Hong came to greet us with waters and congratulations. By Chinese custom, you haven’t really done or traveled anywhere unless you have a picture to prove it. While the line dampened some of the emotional feel of accomplishment, it was worth the wait—the picture is one I’m most proud of. Most people dip their front tire into the river, but Lionel insisted on dipping his back tire.
Burlington looked like an amazing town, with an additional challenge for bikers to attempt a ride up Snake Alley, which looked both unique and challenging. But we had a long six-hour ride back to the Twin Cities, so we threw the bike on the SUV, picked up our bags from the Pork Belly campsite, and ironically, headed back to Mt. Pleasant (the same town I had just biked from) for some lunch.
On the ride back, I faded in and out of consciousness, replaying RAGBRAI in my mind. Lionel, in the back, passed out pretty hard. It felt good to be in a car seat, good to be in the A.C., good to lean my head up on the daddy pillow, and good to be done. Coming home, there was a sign on our door, posted by one of our neighbors, that was the perfect welcome home.
WE DID IT! It was undoubtedly the most challenging yet rewarding thing either of us has ever done. Looking back, it was an astonishing adventure, where even the low moments feel like highlights in the rearview mirror. Looking ahead, we know life with present us with even more obstacles than just hills, heat, and wind, but we also know that together, we can achieve accomplishments of great magnitude. Thank you for reading our adventure.
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