Ragbrai: A Taste of God's Kingdom

In February of this year, a friend called and invited me to join him in attending the Super Bowl in Miami, Florida. This was one of those "once in a life time" experiences and even though the wrong team won (in my opinion), the fact that I was there in Shark Stadium watching the Colts play the Saints was mind blowing.

Last Friday, I had another one of those surreal experiences.... sort of. My son, Josh has been after me to join him in Ragbrai. He and his father-in-law (one of my dearest friends) have been riding across Iowa on a bicycle for the past five years. Josh and Scott have continued to hound me and I finally broke. However, I didn't fully dive in. I agreed to ride one "leg", from Waterloo to Manchester.

In June, I got out my blue Diamond Back cross-trainer bike and logged about 50 miles on the beautiful Cedar Valley bike trails in preparation for the 62 mile ride to Manchester. Not enough prep but I was pumped. Our ride began at 8 a.m. My youngest son, Arnold, agreed to go with us and baby sit me along the way.

Our ride started in a torrential downpour of rain. As lightening flashed and the thunder roared, we began our journey toward our first stop in Gilbertville. By the time we arrived, we were soaked and forced to stop and wait out the rain. Of course, we had to knock down some biscuits and gravy, breakfast burritos and home made pie.

The rain began to let up a bit and so we forged on. We got to Brandon and though the rain had stopped, I was pulling on my biking shorts, you know, the ones with the stitched padding in the backside. Scott, my close friend took one look at me and asked, "Are you wearing underwear under your biking shorts?" "Ya", I said, "Aren't you suppose to?" Scott handed me a tube of cream that read "Butt-butter" and pointed toward the cornfield. I walked, head hanging down, into the cornfield, took one article of no longer needed apparel off and I hung it on a corn stalk, I then smeared about a half cup of butter on my behind, put my bike shorts back on and came back a bit more ready for the last 40 miles of our trip. By that time, Arnold had spotted pork chops roasting on the open fire so we ate again, washing it all down with a couple of bottles of Gatorade.

Back on the road to Quasqueton, the "lunch stop town". We pulled in to Quaskey at about 4 p.m. ready to eat lunch. We had Blue Sky ice cream (to die for) and another couple bottles of Gatorade.

Now understand, there is a certain etiquette when riding Ragbrai. All along the way, Josh had been teaching me the Ragbrai lingo. "Biker off" was what you were to yell when you were going to pull over and stop. "Biker on" was yelled as you pulled back onto the road. "Car up" was the call when a vehicle was coming toward you. "Car back" was called when a vehicle was coming up behind you. My favorite was "rumble" announcing to riders there were rumble strips on the highway that could potentially throw a rider off his bike. Every bit of lingo was somehow connected with care for the other riders. Everyone was looking out for everyone else. You could hear people calling out to each other all along the way.

We fought a head wind the last 40 miles and by the time we got to Manchester, it was 8 p.m. We stuck together the entire way. I was exhausted and yet felt fulfilled. Not so much that I had ridden 62 miles on a bike but that I had experienced something very similar the Kingdom of God. People intently watching out for their "brothers and sisters" on the same journey.

It made me think of this Bible verse; Galatians 6:1-2 Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

I can say I had fun and will do it again. But the thing that is etched in my mind is how dangerously safe I felt on my journey. Not that I was competent as a rider but that my fellow Ragbrai'ers were watching out for me.