Roughing it, stripping down to the bare essentials, with plenty of time to think about what’s really important. What matters. What’s fluff. What’s complete bullshit.
Getting back to nature in the parking lot of a middle school in small town Iowa, it’s RAGBRAI, and I did pitch the tent on a patch of grass but it was mostly smooth asphalt and there were hot showers inside the school and plenty of electrical outlets to charge your cellphone and the gentle hum and soft orange glow of the street lights. We were 20 yards from the road and before the sun came up there were hundreds of cyclists heading out for a day of riding to the next town, the next beer garden the next cherry pie stand, the next girl scout fundraiser. Their headlights blinking in the pre-dawn mist, sound bites of their conversations drifting into my tent. And I was thinking “what time is it, and why the hell are you jokers riding already?”
It’s now October, but I want to remind you once again that RAGBRAI is an experience, a spectacle that I wish everyone could see at least once.
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