Keeping up with dudes

Holla!

I spent last weekend doing the following:

• Camping! In a tent! That I pitched! For two whole nights! With no potties for at least 100 yards!
• This is truly a fact worthy of five exclamation points, as you see, I was raised a Girl Scout, but Troop 1050 of Henry Elementary were hardly the Red Feathers of Culver City, ifyouknowwhatI'msayin.
• Keeping up with Hubs and his pals on a 110-mile bike ride, even though they all have much (MUCH) nicer bikes than I. Thank you, Body Pump, for the quads of steel. Even with relatively little training, this ride was ten bazillion times easier than our little trip to Winterset last year. 
• It seems having a little less chunk to haul around makes a heckuva difference! I'm guessing all that running helped my endurance, too.
• Also, this was not a race. But I want all you fine people to know that I passed many, many riders on nice bikes, with fancy, unflattering bike shorts and $100 helmets. It seems looking like a biker does not make one a biker. Who knew?
• RAGBRAI, which for those of you who are not familiar is:
• A bike ride across the state of Iowa, in which I rode the final two days from Cedar Rapids to Clinton on the river.
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• Street parties galore!

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• 20,000 riders deep.

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• A little of this. 

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• Adorable local om-pa bands! 

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• PIE. Lots and lots of pie. 

It was so fun! My cell phone broke right before we headed out, so I was free as a bird all weekend, which was delightful. We're already plotting our return for 2013. Hopefully with slick team t-shirts and custom koozies. 

Were any of my lovely readers on RAGBRAI? I actually met up with an old college friend who randomly found me on the street in Anamosa. I was shocked because I had sunglasses on, and I can never recognize people when they wear sunglasses, particularly when I haven't seen them in seven years. Can you?

Related: your favorite type of pie? Mine is berry. With ice cream.

Pack it up, pack it up, you got it, you got it

As a gal who was once known for her tendencies to blow this joint and head for shores unknown, I have long coveted suitcases as decor. So, imagine how stoked I was when I found this sturdy old guy at the bi-monthly antiques showcase, Urban Finds. I nabbed the case and the antique valet it sits on for a cool $25! I topped it with a rad little mercury glass lamp from TJ Maxx and a woodsy candle since this corner is dangerously close to the litter box hideaway.

Perfect for our basement's so-called talking chairs, where I imagine guests sipping wine and discussing the news of the day. This has yet to happen, but these chairs give a great vantage point to the action on the foosball table so I think we are getting close. 

I think we are intermediate now

Since I got my sweet new purple bike, Hubs and I have been riding a lot. We've been spending Saturdays going 20, 30 then 40 miles all leading up to a little bike-cation over the long weekend.

Somehow, in the week leading up to this ride, it never dawned on us to check the weather for Saturday, so we were a little dismayed that as we got ready to roll, the news announced that several other outdoor events were cancelled that day because of rain.

Weenies.

I can say that because Hubs and I persevered, as we tend to do when faced with minor setbacks like a failed inspection or paint that needs four coats to cover.

Between downpours on the way to Martensdale.

Our plan was to coast down the trail that stretched from our house to a little town called Martensdale. From there, we'd be on county roads to St. Mary's and St. Charles and over to Winterset, where we'd stay for the night. All in all, Saturday would be 50 miles.

This route came from the latest Central Iowa Cycling map, which was probably the best $3.99 I've spent in some time.

Sunday we went north on 169 before getting on a rural road and getting back on the trails at Cumming - going just about 39 miles.

I know I wrote that like maybe we didn't stick to the plan, but you know what? We did stick to the plan and if you don't believe me, you can ask my poor hamstrings. They won't lie.

So, Saturday was rainy, but not as bad as I expected it to be and for that, I give all my credit to the two beers I downed at the Cumming Tap, seen here on our return stop, while we waited out the rain.

After that little knock-back, we were off to Martensdale and along the way, we met this guy:

His name is Bishop and even though he was very friendly, he wasn't 100% on board with our my idea of riding in the backpack for the next two days.

Once we hit Martensdale, it was lunch time. I went with a sensible salad and Hubs made another decision.

I suppose when you burn 2500 calories in one day, you really don't need to feel bad about eating a fried tenderloin the size of your face. Hubs sure looks happy.

After lunch, we tried desperately to not be killed by cranky drivers on two busy roads. We weren't doing anything wrong, but clearly the awesomeness of my purple bike threw some pick-up drivers into a blind rage as they loved honking and flying by at 80 on a 55 mph road. 

Luckily, our next stop was soothing and filled with gentle old people from Missouri - the oldest covered bridge in Madison County.

 

Sadly, things really started going downhill (even more sad, in no way do I mean that literally) after this charming stop. We had to take a detour on a gravel road for about two miles and then we hit the hills. Oh! Did we hit them! And the rain was raining. And we were sad. But the drivers were much nicer.

And soon, we saw this:

The lovely Madison County Winery and Twisted Vine Brewery vineyard and tasting room. We saddled up to the bar and ordered a beer flight ($3 for three samples! Hello, deal!) and a cheese platter while we recovered from a yucky ride. 

While we sat and recharged phones and ate giant chunks of Gouda, the sun was totally out. The owners were harvesting grapes that day and so they (being way smarter than us) got to work while the sun was out. Once we had downed our beers and were ready to go, the sky got dark. 

It is 11 miles from the winery to the bed and breakfast we were staying at and in the rain, that's not really all that fun. Zero fun, in fact. 

As we pulled up to the Heavenly Habitat, I was delirious. I wanted to be off my bike and done pedaling. So when  Steve, the owner, showed me this:

I very nearly fainted on the spot. Then, he showed us a washer and dryer which was hallelujah good news because Hubs and I only packed one pair of bike shorts each since a) that's all we own and b) we were our own UHauls.

Here we are the next day, fully healed from the rainy ride and ready to scoot out!

Sunday was a much quicker ride since there weren't a whole lot of places to stop at. Just lots of this:

 

One more quick stop at the Cumming Tap and we were practically home!

 It was an awesome ride and we're hoping to make it an annual trip. With my trusty Grown Up Bike, I can do just about anything.

Any other tips for fun weekend rides around these parts?

Tentative, cautious spontaneity

My brain has not been in Iowa for the past few days. It's busy ambling down cobblestone streets, sipping blonde ale and savoring the best damn croissant a brain has ever had.

You see, dear blog, we are plotting another vacation.

After last year's horrendous bout of me being too persuasive and impulsive for my own good, it is understandable that we are cautious creatures when it comes to cementing our plans. The last thing we need is to frittle away another few hundred dollars and rattle our nerves when they are so tender from months spent underground hammering things. 

We hatched a plan last Thursday, amid two liters of homebrew, to visit Paris and Belgium - of course for more beer. We've been researching, pondering, mulling it all over. I've been to Brussels before and (unlike our ill-fated escape to Panama) can already feel the good vibes of the countryside calling our names. I've never been to Paris because frankly, it sounded a little too artsy-fartsy and high-minded for me. Maybe I'm getting snobbish in my old age or maybe I was always wrong, but now I'm 100% totally stoked to France this shiz up.

All signs point to yes.

We bought some CDs to help us parlez the vou and a guidebook for Belgium, but we're holding off on making actual commitments until we're quite, quite, quite positive on this (but holy heck, you guys. I have my eye on the most beautiful and perfect itinerary of all time - no flights before 9:00 a.m., no 12-hour layovers, arrivals at perfectly normal times of the day and best of all - it's out of our very own DSM and somehow does not cost arms, legs, first borns!). It seems not going to Panama changed how we travel just as much as going might have. 

So, there you have it - proof positive that I am quite old and hardly any fun anymore. But, I promise that once we actually buy the plane tickets and get there, I will do my best to dig deep and find adventure.

So, any tips for seeing Paris or Belgian breweries in ways that don't make me feel like a fuddy duddy? (First tip to self, don't ever say fuddy duddy again. Sick.)

Seventeen beach hippies

Growing up, our family always vacationed with lots of friends and family, always at the beach. We'd pile into minivans and drive through the night to the Florida pan-handle, ready to spend the week camped out (oh my gosh, NOT literally. EW.) in the white sand, getting sunburnt beyond recognition, buying loads of tie-dyed coverups and bonding like whoa.

This year, after an eight-year hiatus, we hit the beach again. Seventeen of us bunked up in a house right on the beach and settled in for delightful times.

We set up the traditional beach shanty and in between sips of boozed-up Arnold Palmers, we sailed, kayaked and boogie-boarded the days away. Our most vocally-talented member knocked the snot out of some townies at kareoke (metaphorically, you know). The "kids" (now all 21+ (ok, fine, ++)) taught our parents flippy cup and I will thank my lucky stars for the rest of my days that there were no cameras out that night.

Every minute was superfun (and I'm not just saying that because for the first time in my whole life, I didn't get sunburnt at the beach), but the highlight was our twilight beach photo shoot, complete with matching tie-dyed shirts, courtesy of my sister.

Overwhelming, isn't it? (in a good way)

Of course, it soon became Jump Picture Fest 2011. 

Wheeee!

Nice air, Hubs!

Clearly ahead of my time.

Do you vacation in bulk? Have you ever taught your parents a drinking game? Have you ever seen a better looking group of tie-dye-wearing homies? I didn't think so.

In which I delight in the city

I am not a city mouse. I hate crowds and tall buildings and paying SO MUCH attention to pedestrian-right-of-way and would much rather plod along a quiet, shady street and have enough space to maybepossibly grow some chickens someday when Hubs isn't looking.

But, I shelved the city-animosity for a nice weekend break in Chicago. You know, a holiday - a quick break is what I think I remember the UK-iest of sets calling them.

Please note the dude on the left of me. It's true what they say about Cubs fans - they're hot!

My lack of photographs from this excursion is at once sad (because it was a great hair weekend) and truly perfect (because it was also a weekend of great beers). I mean, we went to the Cubs-Sox game at Wrigley, and I, being a humble Cards fan (OK, fine, just a person from St. Louis), did my best to blend in with the locals, who seem impervious to all that frosty Old Style.

We wined and dined ourselves as much as humanly possibly because, c'mon, it was vacation. I even knocked back my first raw oyster at Gibsons. (I don't want to talk about it.)

Sunday, we wandered around like true tourists and hit the top of the Hancock. I also departed from my standby of empire-waisted day dresses and went for a true waist look. Thrilling and exotic life I lead, right?

We had a great time and if you're looking for a good place to stay in Chicago, I'd recommend the Sutton Place Hotel. It was all swank and swagger with a pinch of 1985. Who doesn't want a chunky black phone in the bathroom these days?

On the Fourth, we made it back to good old Iowa in time for some pool-axin' (pool + relaxing....? Will this one stick?), a quick bike ride to dinner and fireworks.

How was your long weekend? Whatcha doin' this weekend? Can I tag along?

A lot to live up to

I hope you all had a Most Stellar Memorial Day Weekend. I did. My accomplishments were as follows:

• Slept in for four glorious days.
• Successfully drove a total of twelve hours with two cats. No one pooped in the car and no one scratched a person or passenger seat to shreds.
• Browsed DSW and HomeGoods without buying a thing for myself.
• Bought gas for under $3.50.
• Watched a wedding. 
• Ate my weight in taquitos at the wedding.
• Recognized the opening strands of Sweet Caroline before anyone else and was first on the dance floor.
• Spent quality time with my people and possibly awed them with my newly amazing shoulder muscles.
• Commandeered a hotel pool for a family party.
• Did not get sunburnt.
• Finally figured out how to eat a chicken wing.
• Visited Jefferson Barracks Cemetery and made the customary post-cemetery trip to TGI Fridays. 
• Discovered the Trader Joe's baked version of Funions, which aren't terrible for you. Ate a whole bag.
• Transplanted two tiny pine trees from my Nana's house to The Pit.
• I Fast Eddie'd.

 My first weekend of summer was perfect. Here's to hoping all remaining summer weekends are as productive, as fun, as full of my favorite people and as lacking in sunburntness as this one was.

A time when I wasn't cold

A while back (right after our little NoCal adventure), I hopped a plane with two goofy gals and went to surprise Brittney (who is a blogger, but first and foremost a real life friend, so please do not interpret this surprise to be creepy in anyway. Note to blog-only friends: I promise to never ring your doorbell unless asked to do so.) for her birthday.

Hilarity ensued.

We ate burgers, hilariously.

We got just buzzed enough to still call ourselves classy ladies at a beach bar.

We strolled around the beach, as classy dames are wont to do.

We (I) posed with animal statues on the Santa Monica pier.

We went really swanky and watched the sunset from a rooftop bar populated by people who, unlike myself, were not clad entirely in clothes from Target. Apparently, that is kind of the norm at chic rooftop bars in California. Who knew?

We ate Italian food and told completely inappropriate stories way too loud and made the tables next to us uncomfortable (I imagine anyway).

We rode a bus. It was my first time on a bus that was not taking me to and from the State Fair. Ain't I a big city gal now?

We ate awesome breakfast sandwiches.

We rode tandem bikes on the beach. In flip-flops! In November! Oh me, oh my.

We ate at Don Antonio's and spotted the Broke Ass Bride and her dude, but were too busy stuffing our faces to say hello.

We had a good time.

Have you ever surprised anyone by just showing up one day? 

Other Napa adventures

Our two days in Napa were so relaxing. We scored a great deal on our hotel thanks to my sister's connections and so we got to hang out with swans on our way to breakfast each morning. Nothing starts the day off right more than swan-gazing.

We spent one day rolling around the valley in a bus with a few other folks (you know, they type that wears sweaters and knows everything about everything.) on a wine tasting tour. While we didn't stop at the ritziest places, they were indeed tasty and gorgeous and generous with their pours.

Black Stallion

Hagafen

At our lunch winery, V Sattui, we (predictably) got a loaf of bread, two cheeses, some salami and a bottle of Chardonnay for a little mid-day snack. No leftovers were had (predictably).

Our last stop of the day was Rubicon Winery, which was really pretty but plagued with a snot-tastic wait staff, who also knew everything about everything. I guess the educational system in California is like, really good.

We ended the tour at Chandon, where one of our tour mates got a little sloppy and hit on the poor tasting gal. He failed miserably and we enjoyed truffled popcorn and the show. So much for knowing everything about picking up ladies.

Of course, after a day of winery gallivanting, we needed a good dinner. Driving around downtown the day before, we saw that Moriomoto (of Iron Chef fame! Squeal!) had a restaurant here. We snagged reservations and fell in love.

We ordered a platter for two that included a nice combo of rolls and ngiri. It was all chef's choice, so we got adventurous with eel, roe and some new-to-us fish.

It was totally amazing and every single item on the platter was so fresh and bright, I couldn't even stand it.

We were stuffed afterward, but decided to order a dessert of a ginger cake, caramel sauce, chocolate cream and a banana milkshake. Oh holy heavens. It left me speechless and fat and even writing about it now makes me crave a little bit of the ginger cake and a healthy smear of smooth chocolate cream.

They even gave us a little anniversary shout out in chocolate! Of course, as soon as we left, my button popped off my jeans. No joke. I'm only telling you so that I am motivated to workout tonight.

The next day, we had to head out of town, but before we did, we had to hit up Bouchon Bakery in Yountville. We sampled a croissant and pistachio macaroon (the macaroon that made me get macaroons. Yes, this craze is justified.). Even the Diet Cokes we got were in fancy glass bottles. Oo la la. How very French.

I love Napa. I could live there. I could die there. They have flowers like this in November! What's not to love?

*We also stopped into Bottega for lunch, but it was highly disappointing. The food was great, but we were seated next to wholesale plate dealers peddling their wares to the chef and the waitress ignored us, making our little pit stop last well over two hours.