"Cheney '08" (government servants "Boo-Boo" and "Bam-Bam"), Banana Man, "BMW," and Mongoose Man

So many old friends and a new RAGBRAI rider who's an old friend, Core Fitness spin-class pro Sandy Show! Wow, can Sandy climb those hills!

Sandy joined me, Jim, our daughter Sarah, and Sarah's boyfriend Adam Edelman early at the Village Inn this morning in Iowa City. Sarah joined us for half a day. Sandy's husband Paul is joining us to party in Mount Vernon. It'll be too hectic in Anamosa, where the ride ends tonight.

One of my favorite parts of the ride was running into the "Cheney '08" guys again. They wore pink and gray jerseys, two of my favorite colors, and again had their satirical send-up jerseys mocking former VICE President Dick Cheney.

The first time we saw them it was 2008. 

"Is that a joke?" I asked incredulously.

"Is freedom a joke?" one of them responded sternly.

Well, that sounded like something a real Cheney supporter would say. So Jim and I, both of whom were angered by the slogan, were confused.

Later, when we found a group of young men and women wearing "Cheney '08" jerseys lolling in the grass of a small town, we were less confused, because we saw the little stick figures with Dick Cheney heads on them and we read the messages on the back, the shoulders, the sides, and front of the jerseys. They were joking. They're the funniest jerseys I've ever seen on RAGBRAI, in fact. My previous favorite jersey was the Donner Party jerseys with the slogan on the back, "We eat the slow ones." 

This time, too, the "Cheney '08" jersey wearers were reluctant to reveal their true identities. They let me take photos of them though. 

"How about 'Boo-Boo' and 'Bam-Bam'?" I asked.

"Perfect," the tall one ("Bam-Bam") said.

The jersey front, of course, said, "Cheney '08." The back said, "Freedom-[excreting] death eagles.

One shoulder said, "Big victory." The other shoulder said, "Small d*ck," with an image of Dick Cheney as the "i."

After seeing several king-size "KING" signs for Republican Rep. Steve King on two large, prosperous looking farms in western Iowa on the way to Pocahontas on Highway 3, a clever jersey mocking Dick Cheney provided much needed comic relief. Little stick figures with Cheney heads on them decorated the hem of the jersey.

Harcourt, Iowa showed us a good time. They stationed the brats, Gatorade, and pie in efficient fashion in a large, shaded city park. Just one guy sang and played guitar, and he had talent. The music was pleasant, restful, and didn't blast us into the middle of next week like the music turned up in some towns, which I got through and out of as fast as possible. 

Young Brian Schott of Colorado Springs had the guts to wear a light pink skirt with black polka dots on it, reminiscent of the "Cheney '08" colors. He said he'd just been overseas in Germany, Holland, and Ireland. He came back for RAGBRAI.

"It takes a real man to wear a skirt," I told him. He wasn't the only one. There were men dressed in dresses, too.

I photographed Matt Donovan, a skate boarder, in Garrison, Iowa. A friend born in Lithuania is ahead of him on a skateboard. His name is Alex Voitenko. He would only tell me two of the countries he's been in, Lithuania and the U.S., for safety reasons. Alex is biking for Christ. He had Philippians 4:13 on the back of his jersey, I think. "Through him all things are possible."

Sarah pointed out a man sitting next to us at the Fuel espresso and pastry shop and told me his eyes are light green like her Daddy's. I looked at his eyes and they were. His name is Ray Tretheway (pronounced "treth-EW-ie" in Cornwall). Tretheway means "the homestead of David," he said.

Since he has a Jewish nose, I told him about the archaeological and genetics book "When Scotland Was Jewish," which he said he's going to read. He offered me a book written by one of his ancestors, I think, a book called "Cousin Jack." He said it's boring to read, but there's a wonderful glossary at the back of the book that explains what many surnames in Great Britain (or perhaps more locally, Cornwall) mean. Maybe that's how he knows that Tretheway means "homestead of David." I'll have to get it and look up the names on the British side of my family.

He and his wife were delightful and I'd love to run into them again. He let me take his photo, head on and profile both. His wife's mother's name is Hillman. She's also Scottish but looks Jewish. I told them what our National Geographic Genographic Project DNA profiles revealed about our family histories, and they seemed intrigued and eager to try testing their DNA.

Mongoose Man, Roger Denesha, was 38 years old when I met him two years ago. He's 40 now, but doesn't look it. He bought the Mongoose bike and all the accessories that he wanted when he was about eight years old, even the mask. I think he's a computer programmer, if I remember right.

On our way home from Clinton we unaccountably ran into the MelonHeads again at a Casey's convenience store in Clarence, Iowa. The odds of our meeting, with our different schedules, are so remote that bumping into each other is almost inevitable. Or so it seems. It was great seeing them again for one last hurrah as RAGBRAI ended. 

I gotta tell you. Usually I'm sad when RAGBRAI ends and don't want it to end. This time I was so exhausted from the heat, the hills, and the early hours that I came home, ate a piece of cold veggie pizza and made myself a gin-and-tonic, and then slept for 12 hours. I have a feeling I'm going to sleep soundly tonight, too.

That's the wonderful thing about RAGBRAI. It's wonderful to go and it's equally wonderful to come home, go to bed at 7:00 p.m., and sleep for 12 hours. I'll bet I sleep well tonight, too. I'm going to clean the house, do dishes, do laundry, and recover.