Author Archives: TaminFrance

July 20: Leaving Mount Vernon by 9 or so, riding in 2 vans across the state with our bikes transported in a large Budget Moving Truck. We set up our tents in the backyard of some nice folks (a former student of one of our team members) in rural Glenwood. We had a beautiful view to the west of the Loess Hills, and the large back yard, high up was a perfect first night’s camping spot. We took our group photo after our guidelines meeting.

Then I said I wanted to dip my tire in the Missouri River, and 5 others decided to come with me. The was great! But it was about ten miles to the river and back, and, after getting really muddy at the dipping spot, and heading back east, we had to stop in town at Glenwood to get an idea of the crowd and experience the expo, where one could buy anything needed. I had a tasty high carb meal from a food truck and we made it back to camp just before dark. Most everyone else was already tucked in for the night.

July 21: Glenwood to Red Oak

Getting up early, putting my tent away, getting it into the truck, maybe eating some breakfast food, all before 6:30 was a bit of a challenge for me. The mile into town was mostly down hill, and then I tried to follow the huge crowd east. Fog blanketed everything, so the views were limited. I stopped in Silver City, past the crowds, to drink some water and watch the bikes pass by. I liked the mile of silence for the bikers who had been killed or injured by motorists, with the fog the silence made sense, and it added a bit of reverence to the new thing I was doing, like a prayer for safety for us all as we began. Don’t remember too much about this day except finally it cleared off and we could see lots of hills as we made our way very slowly to Red Oak and its giant orange water tower. I met Greg and Cindy & Steve up the hill just across from Chautauqua Park (the water tower location) and then it was time for me to get in the truck that Greg and I could drive to Des Moines and get ready for David & Sadie’s wedding, which was that evening at 5 in Newton!

July 22: Red Oak to Atlantic

The wedding was wonderful! We stayed to the end (10 pm) and cheered them off with glowsticks. Got home to Johnston and slept and on Monday morning we had to leave early to get back to Red Oak to ride all of day 2! Elizabeth joined us, so it was fun to have her riding for the rest of the week! The Red Oak to Griswold ride wasn’t too hard, because I knew that my special brother would be there with Greg, waiting to see the long line of bikes passing north right in front of the Griswold school complex, which is two blocks from the nursing home where Charly lives. He was there, but he wasn’t having his best day. My glorious vision of how cool it would be for him was a little less than I imagined, but WE DID IT! He wasn’t feeling the best, but of course he needed to hug his sister. Big thanks to Greg for transporting us to Red Oak and then getting Charly & our truck to our meeting spot.

I LOVED riding on the high road between Griswold to Lewis, Great views, winding roads, lush corn and beauty on every side. It took a long time in Lewis to find the watering station, and we probably spent too much time there, but it was a fun stop.

EJ loves to pet farm animals! After our stop here, we decided to separate, as she is much faster than I an. I knew Atlantic wasn’t that far, from Lewis, so I was looking forward to the easy ride alone in the pm. But, instead of taking the direct, short, fkat way to Atlantic, the official route went north and a bit west. What?? And so many big hills! I stopped at a beautiful old farm house after a long hill. Blankets were laid out, everyone was relaxing, and there were drinks and snacks available for sale. I talked with a young mom with two children. She was doing it alone with them. The boy was about 6 and the girl not much over one, and mom was nursing her. I could not believe that a woman could be that strong! pulling two children behind her up all these hills! She had her mom and sister as a backup, if anything came up, but otherwise she was alone. The little boy told me that dad went back to Slovenia, and he missed him. He said “I really like living there.” Mom hushed him, but the little tike sure seemed to want to talk with me. I bought them some treats and I give him a hug before they left. I think he knew that I was a “Mimi” and that he was very safe with me. Never saw her again, on the ride, but will always remember her beauty and strength.

July 23: Atlantic to Winterset (But we stopped in Greenfield, and had Greg meet us there.) My big goal was to stop in Cumberland and visit with my 90-year-old. Aunt Betty Jean and cousin Steve! EJ and I met in the crowed Main Street of Cumberland and got stuck there for too long. Then when we tried to get out of town and turn off the official route to the right up the long lane to their farm, EJ missed the turn. (Because she was in front of me instead of behind me!) I stopped half way up the lane, and EJ was nowhere to be seen. She went all the way uphill to the road where we turn east, Highway 92. I texted her and she had to come back down the hill against the hundreds of bikers filling the road going up. NOT easy! But she finally made it and we stayed for another 15 minutes. EJ was even able to pet their cute little dog!

Time passes quickly when you have 82 miles to go in a day. I stopped in Massena and had a bite to eat without going into that main street! Stayed close to the highway! When I finally made it to Greenfield, was supposed to drive through where the tornado went, but I asked about the library, our meeting spot, and missed what I really should have seen!! Whew! (I was getting a bit tired and hungry, I think.) EJ and I loved being in Greenfield near the courthouse on the square. I found an air-conditioned beautiful restaurant to hang out in and I even attended a Zoom meeting for my Bible Study group on my phone there, so no wonder we didn’t commit to going any further that day. It was really nice to have Greg close to be our sag driver. He drove us to Winterset where we would meet up with our old friends Cindy & Steve and have our annual meal out together when they are riding Ragbrai. But this year I was riding Ragbrai (sort of) too. And having Elizabeth with us was great. Too bad it is almost impossible to find a quiet restaurant during Ragbrai!

July 24: Winterset to Knoxville (I sagged with the Register van in Milo.)

It was beautiful riding out of Winterset in the morning, with the sun rising in front of the throng, and passing through St. Charles was also amazing too. The rolling hills and rich greens of the beauty of Iowa as seen from your bike and having 100’s of others beside you somehow makes it an awesome experience. I must confess that at several times, and I remember this day in particular, I walked my bike up long or steep hills. But, I decided to feel no shame. I embrace the fact that I am a stronger walker than I am biker. And, other folks walking their bikes up those same hills had me passing them on the RIGHT. I was the fastest bike walker on the entire trek, I think.

Near Milo, I stopped at another beautiful farm house, set high at the end of one of those hills. Trees shaded the front yard, and I could look at the bikers ride up and then descend into the gorgeous valley. I got a lemonade and some granola and just enjoyed the view &?met a female biker from California who had once taught English at Cornell for one term. We chatted about everything, as she is a poet/writer/creator, and she has finally found a way to make a living and still do her thing as a college professor after several years of struggling in adjunct and temporary positions. Her boyfriend was somewhere ahead of her one the ride. She and he were both into long distance treks, so I was able too share about my pilgrimage in France and she said that was another one they wanted too do.

After she left, I learned that there was pool out back and that we could take a dip. Why not? I jumped in the blue water where kids moms, and three 40-something guys were relaxing. They insisted I try the floaty they had tried, so I did. They were right.

We talked about the charity they were supporting (can’t remember it now) and how they loved doing this ride every year, and that stops like THIS one were what it is really all about. After another 30 minutes in the pool, I got back into my shoes – and I was off! Leaving the farm’s front yard, I saw my three swimming companions mounting their bikes and heading off: they were the famous three guys wearing speedos and American flag capes!

I had seen them several times and just thought they were a bit odd, maybe too much. But after having spent time with them in the most gorgeous pool, I knew they were people just like me. (This wonderful stop must’ve been at least two hours.) And that is why I chose to sag at Milo.

July 25: Knoxville to Ottumwa (I sagged at Eddyville, thanks to my cousin Rebecca who came and fetched me and a fellow Cornell rider, and dropped us off to our overnight home.)

I don’t recall much about this day, other than a sign I saw in Lovilia, I think, that read: “I survived – day 5.” Wow. Other people think this is hard too. I remember having a great meal with EJ at a Tasty Freeze or something in Albia. We talked to an older couple there, and then EJ left and she rode all the way to Ottumwa, and she was beat. Especially having to ride another 3 miles uphill once one gets into town. I knew I couldn’t make it to Ottumwa, and was so glad Rebecca was willing to come to Eddyville, or rather to the BP gas station, where we always stop at on our drives to the family place in Van Buren County. Norm had heard about my planned pick-up during a pleasant stop/conversation earlier in the day, and he decided to meet us there for a lift. That made me happy.

That night we had another big yard to camp in, and I can’t remember going anywhere for dinner that evening. Maybe just snacks around camp. ???? I’m getting a little foggy about things by now. I think the week is wearing on me, even with my sagging.

July 26: Ottumwa to Mount Pleasant (I stopped in Fairfield where daughter-in law Alicia and the girls picked EJ and me up and drive us to Mount Pleasant.)

Leaving Ottumwa was strange riding on a smaller road north of highway 34 that we usually zoom by on heading to the farm. We crossed over that highway and headed south to Agency, where I sat on the front porch with a lady and watched the morning parade. She had retired recently and moved from the Quad Cities-happy to be in a nice house in a small town.

John and I pose with the famous couple. John is a medical school instructor from Chicago, and a die-hard biker. The heat and the winds from the east combined to make me feel tired and weak this day. I thought that coffee would help, but it didn’t do the trick. I stayed in Eldon for an hour or so. And then I stopped to rest in Selma for another hour.

And then it was on to Libertyville where almost everything was packed up. Luckily a few kybos were still available! I carried on toward Fairfield, but at the end of another uphill, had to stop for treats and more ice water. I was able to leave a $20 bill in the free-will basket for a little boy who was sad about not making much money yet. That made me happy, and since I spent so much time there, it was worth it. Entering Fairfield from the southwest through a residential area was really nice. The square was almost all packed up, but Alicia the girls and Elizabeth were waiting for me-and we tried even more coffee to keep me going. I told them no hugs because I was draggin’ and that one person on our team had reported that he tested positive for Covid – and was going home. 🥲 It was a long night in Mountain Pleasant, but the next day would be our last!

July 27: Mount Pleasant to Burlington!

Great river road!

Wheel in the Mississippi!

I did it. I didn’t ride every mile I could have, but I logged at least 300 miles. I saw beautiful countryside, met some cool people, was encouraged by so many, just as I encouraged others. Meeting strangers as friends was wonderful. And even though I didn’t ace RAGBRAI, I’m glad I did my first one at the age of 66 with my simple, too heavy non-electric Trek Verve 2. Wish I could have gotten to know more of my Rambrai team members better. My trying to do too much stopped me from having much down time to sit in the circle. 🥲

We got back to Mount Vernon and said goodbye to our Rambrai teammates. Elizabeth and I had a delicious meal at the restaurant next to the now-famous pizza place. It was perfect.

Then we drove home to Johnston, where EJ had left her car. On Sunday morning I was draggin’ again, so I stayed home from church. Rested a lot and watched a fun French film with Greg that evening. Tested positive for Covid on Monday. Not fun. Not a souvenir any of us wanted to pick up on RAGBRAI. And then the next week Greg was down with it.

But I am fully recovered-and even Covid-protected for a while. If I do RAGBRAI again, I will train more, not let anything else take me away from being 100%, fully present to the ride and my team, and take fewer long breaks! Maybe only one nice break a day.

But I don’t regret any of my lovely breaks and conversations-like the swimming pool one with the 3 Speedo guys. Iowa is worth riding across again, and RAGBRAI is a ride worth remembering. What do you remember from RAGBRAI? My friend said that I need to watch the new documentary Shift, to understand more about how important Ragbrai can be. Maybe you have seen it. Thanks for reading some of my reflections!

RAGBRAI LI: Home Sweet Home, aka the Hilliest RAGBRAI ever, July 20-27, 2024.

It had been a long walking day, and even though the man was very nice and the price was right, the ambiance was less than lovely. A barking black dog greeted us, whom the host referred to as his “chien terroriste.” He explained that his wife lived in the house pictured above and that he now lived out back with all of the cars, stored materials, and piles of dirt and gravel in the long concrete-block building that he was building which contained his massive shop (aka man-cave) with numerous vehicles and projects within. It also contained his living quarters with a nice wood-burning stove & produce from the farm-like beef jerkey & apples & pate for sale. There was a small kitchen area for us campers next to his little farm produce boutique with a counter and plug-ins for charging phones. There was a big black plastic bag filled with garbage at the end of that space which was smelling & attracting flies. I took it outside to a garbage bin and boiled some water and made some home/grown organic mint tea (graciously provided) to freshen up my interior space for the evening.

Behind all of this there was an outdoor shower which was open to the far back & fields with rather unfinished concrete. I decided not to shower. Quite a distance across the way from the shower was the dry composting outhouse, which thankfully did not stink. We hiked up the hill to our little green trailer where we slept. When he gave us the initial tour of his domain, he explained that there were lots of wolves in the area and some rare owls. He said not to be afraid if we heard them during the night.,I tried to go to bed late and get up early to avoid being in that green trailer (that he remodeled all by himself) too long.

One other woman came in late and she very kindly offered me some of her garden tomatoe and vinaigrette as we shared the kitchen area. We had very few other options that evening, and all-in-all, it was a good night. I’m trying to be able to be happy, regardless of my circumstances, and avoid complaining, so this overnight required some effort on my part.

Now that we are done walking and Greg is flying home, I finally have time and energy to reflect on our walk. Whew! First, it was harder than either of us imagined. Second, if we had given ourselves more time, we could have walked fewer miles each day and had more time to enjoy the towns we visited. Third, three weeks traveling with one’s spouse (or with anyone for that matter) makes one appreciate being alone.

Our plan was to walk from Le Puy en Velay to Alès. It’s the entire modern Stevenson trail, about 267 kilometers or about 166 miles. Stevenson only walked from Le Monastier sur Gazeille (where he purchased his donkey Modestine to carry all of his things) to St. Jean du Gard (where he sold her at a loss because she was no longer fit to travel) So he never walked the first and last sections of the modern trail, but he did visit both those towns. His 12-day walk with his donkey was perhaps about 200 kilometers or about 124 miles. It’s hard to know his exact path, but the towns he stayed in are well documented in his book. After he sold his broken-down beast of burden, he took the diligence (a French stagecoach of sorts) to Alès, eager for news of his beloved Fanny.

We, on the other hand, started in Le Puy en Velay with Greg carrying 30 pounds of our camping stuff on his back. (I knew my limits & carried only 10 pounds.) Walking around here is nothing like walking around Johnston!

My donkey was done in after those first two days, when he learned that he could not carry all that weight up and down the rocky paths. (When Greg is too tired to eat, you know it’s serious.) We then used the Malle Postale (a French travel business whose motto is “hike light” or in French: “Randonnez légèrement”) Things went much better after that change and our sabbath from walking to start refreshed.

Our final statistics: 10 walking days covering about 122 miles. On average, we walked about 12 miles each walking day. We started walking on September 13 in Le Puy en Velay and stopped our walk in St Jean du Gard on the 27th. As I work to catch up on my blog, you’ll discover that we preferred short days and truly loved our rest days. (Glad we scheduled extra days to do the walk.) But we never gave up – and we had no tears or meltdowns or big fights. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what we learned by walking the Stevenson Trail in France this September, but perhaps by filling in the gaps of our journey, I’ll figure it out.

Stevenson’s original journal (only published for the first time in 1978 in conjunction with the 100th anniversary of his walk) revealed a lot of his anxiety and distress, whereas the edited and published version (which came out a few months after his walk in 1878) had a pleasant and humorous tone. Hahaha. I get it. I’m hoping to find meaning and humor in our journey (now that the pain has left my legs and feet) as I slowly look back – while relaxing in Nimes, a beautiful once-Roman city about 30 minutes by train from Alès, the terminus of the Stevenson Trail. Thanks for your patience and thanks for reading!

A new flower on a path this morning. We got off the path before reaching Florac. Still beautiful.

We loved covering only 6 miles on our 3rd walking day – from Le Bouchet-Saint-Nicolas to our campground near Rauret. So lovely, peaceful, rural and calm. Everything was about conserving resources, respecting nature, living in harmony with nature & others. The wind blew strong all night but we were cozy and safe in our new tent. No more than 20 guests are allowed per night and there were only three small cabins and several grassy tent sites overlooking the Mini mountains of the Massif Centrale to the south. We were rested & ready to advance on the Stevenson Trail.

Day 2 was hard. Greg was carrying 30 pounds on his back and walking up long hills on very rocky paths. And then we had to descend those same rocky, treacherous, narrow paths. The flat paths and views from on high were beautiful and walking along the high trails is heaven for me.

It was about 7:15 pm when we finally made it to Le Bouchet-Saint-Nicholas and La Potala, our old French guest house that was built in 1637. We had walked more than 14 miles. Greg was too tired to eat. He somehow carried himself and his bag to the third floor and crashed. We decided to take a real sabbath from walking on Sunday and stay there a second night.

More to come: we start our walk this morning after a day of rest in Le Puy.