JULY 21, 2026
Day 3 – Guthrie Center to Boone
All downhill to Perry (Meeting Town) and then *gasp* uphill to Boone. Today’s route is simple: Left-Right-Left-Right-Left-Right-Left-Right. Going east, then north, then east, then north. Repeat.
With the storm last night, the heat dropped so much that I had to use a sleeping bag. I was with Lou and Dave and asked them where the water refill station was (by the ball field). I filled up my bottles and waited for them to ride by. I thought they would ride by me. After 10 minutes, I assumed they had left, so I took off at 7:00 a.m. and figured I’d catch them. Never saw them again. RAGBRAI.
Today’s 61-mile ride to Boone was easier than the first two days because of the lack of climbing. Unlike the 28 and 35 climbs on those routes, this one only had four. I rode on to Panora, pop. 1094, just eight miles away. The economy here is smashing eggs into powder. Yum. (Nutriom operates a facility in Panora, which converts the equivalent of approximately 24 million eggs each year into a powder that can later be combined with water and heated to create scrambled eggs.) I found and bought a cinnamon roll ($2) and was walking my bike when I saw Sue. Surprised, she was waiting for Mary Pat. Once we got everyone together, Steve, Mary Pat, Sue, and I rode to Yale, pop. 264.
And then we rode 17 more miles to Perry, pop. 8208. The largest employer here was Tyson Foods’ pork plant that closed in March 2024, costing 800 Perry residents their jobs. It’s also the future home of the RAGBRAI Museum. Donate your sweaty jersey.
When we came to the inevitable bike congestion, Steve said that he and his wife were going to find something to eat. I turned to see where Sue went, and she was gone. Ah, RAGBRAI.
I had no expectation that I would see any of my riding partners the rest of the ride. I walked on alone through a crowded Perry, Iowa.
If you were one of 20,000 or so registered users you were given a license plate to put on your bike. I’d say less than half did. Of those that did, most wrote their names in ball point pen which made reading it while passing almost impossible. Some wrote Team names where it said to put Team or Hometown. Dumb instruction. I don’t care if you’re with Team Whoop-dee-do. I want to see where you are from. “Loud and proud,” as one of my referees, Debbie, would instruct team captains or players. My name was written Loud and Proud so I could be seen.
I was walking through Perry pushing my bike when I heard my name called out. “Barry Sherry! We rode together two years ago on the Blue Ridge Parkway!” I remembered Finnegan. But I haven’t been on the Blue Ridge Parkway since 2020. He certainly could be excused for confusing the two roads because they connect. He was riding from New Jersey to Argentina, and I said, “Yes, you went to Argentina.” And he said, “No, Colombia.” Just as fast as he found me, he quickly excused himself to get back in his food line. Wow. Small world.
I spent the next few minutes thinking about that interaction. Was it real? Or maybe it was someone who saw my name on my “license plate” who just pranked me? I decided this was Finnegan from two years ago. I would have to reconcile Colombia from Argentina later.
It was College Jersey Day on RAGBRAI. When I was here in 2012, Penn State was embroiled in the Jerry Sandusky scandal and was vilified by the sports media and therefore, the American public. It was no time to wear the blue and white for the Nittany Lions. But today I was free to fly.
I saw a man wearing a University of Texas jersey. I asked him if he had heard of the Texas4000, and he had not. So I gave him the best sales pitch I had for this great organization. I told him just to remember that number, 4000, and go back and search on Texas4000. I hope he did.
I pulled over with the promise of Free Bacon, but sadly, it was not ready yet. There was a promise of free postcards, and I sat down and wrote two to our youngest four grandkids. And then I rode on. Without bacon.
At MP 44, there was a sign offering llama petting. It looked interesting, but before I could pull over, I noticed a family pulling out and back on the road pedaling. I caught K—’s family of five. I immediately said, “This is K—‘s family,” letting them know we had met before. And we had. We met her two nights ago at a church spaghetti dinner in Harlan. I told her mother that she has a HUGE personality, and she acknowledged that she did. I took a photo on the road and then rode ahead. She said, “See you tomorrow,” oblivious to how unusual it is to see someone twice on this ride
Five miles farther, I arrived in Ogden and entered a Casey’s. I got a Coke Zero and two BBQ Bacon sliders from their hot food case. I was sitting on a milk crate on the curb eating one when K— walked by me and said hello. Her family had just arrived on the tandems, and she went inside. When she came out and joined her family. They were taking a short break, so I walked over and introduced myself. I even gave her dad one of my sliders because I couldn’t finish two. We rolled out together into town but soon went our separate ways. But I had a photo to show our group. And they were envious.
I carried enough gels plus Nuun nutrition that I didn’t need much to eat while I rode. I had the one slider, and I rode the last 12-13 miles into Boone. I set up my tent and would be joined by Dave. We were near the luggage truck, and he knew where Lou’s gear was, so we (meaning mostly Dave) set his tent up as well.
We were starting to look at a time crunch. We had reservations for the 5:30 Boone & Scenic Railroad in town. Brancel Bicycle Charters offered a mid-week laundry service. Originally scheduled for 5-7 p.m., in deference to those of us who were taking a train ride, they moved it to 4:00 p.m. They also had Hyvee, the grocery store, set up a cookout ($) for us in camp, but we did not have time to use it. We discovered the shuttle did not go to the train, and Sue arranged for an Uber driver.
Our driver was from Des Moines. He was with RAGBRAI as a support driver for his brother and running Uber in the evenings. He also had no knowledge of local street closures for RAGBRAI. We zigged, and we zagged around town and arrived at 5:25 p.m. This was a special train for RAGBRAI, and it felt like they were willing to wait for all ticketed passengers to arrive before departing.
I had reserved caboose seating, and it was for one. I found that sort of strange. This would be perfect for families to take their kids but seems to be just for one. And I got a certificate at the end for having a “crummy” ride.
After the train ride, we walked downtown and Sue, Dave, and Lou went to a BBQ restaurant. I didn’t join them because my electronics were charging back at the campground and I wanted to pick them up before 9:00 p.m. I walked to a shuttle that did not go to the campground and was going to walk the one and one-half miles back to camp. Then I saw a pedi-cab. I hailed him, and he gave me a ride. The driver was from Des Moines, following RAGBRAI, and I gladly paid him $20 for an e-bike pedi-cab ride to camp.
We were two blocks from what would be a strip mall. There was a Jimmy John’s where I placed an order for a toasted sandwich, but they called me and told me they turned their toaster off at 8:30. I canceled the order. I walked two blocks and found a Dairy Queen. Got a burger and about one hour of electricity while I charged my phone.
MILEAGE: 62.9
MILES WITH PWCC: 24
Recent Comments