Estrogen Ride 2007: Day Three
The weather on this trip had simply been unbeatable: temperatures in the mid-80’s, low humidity, mostly sunny. Monday was no exception, though it may have been just a touch warmer. It was still well within “perfect” range for a bike trip.
We gathered Monday morning in the hotel parking lot. A few riders were going to take the Interstate home so they could fulfill some evening commitments; a few others were going back down to Galena’s shopping district before heading home. The rest of us - 11 bikes, I think - had planned a slow westward mosey with stops that included the Wilwert’s dealership in Dubuque and J&P Cycles in Anamosa.
Leaving Galena the same way we’d come back from dinner the night before, Holly lead us on a short detour through Dubuque so we could all have the experience of riding through a particular neighborhood. It wasn’t the historic homes she wanted to show us, though - it was the street itself: I swear to God this thing was a 45-degree incline, with a 90-degree turn-with-incline at the start and another 90-degree-turn-with-incline at the end, followed by an immediate steep decline back down. It was a road that would have really intimidated me had I not encountered something nearly identical last summer out in Deadwood at Mt. Moriah Cemetery. I knew the key was to keep my speed up (though the instinct is to take it slow) - the challenge was to do that while being mindful of what the riders ahead of you were doing.
We all made it through without problems - and gave another WOOHOO at the end - and then we were on to Wilwert’s for more shopping.
After Wilwert’s, we headed out of Dubuque and traveled Highway 151 to Anamosa, where we stopped at the Iowa biker
mecca, J&P Cycles. J&P is a retail and mail-order company offering all manner of bike parts, accessories, apparel and gifts. Their catalog is a must-have for anyone who rides, and their annual Open House event draws thousands of bikers from around the Midwest. We did some shopping and then headed on down the road to Scooter’s, a biker bar and grill that looked brand-new, where we had a really good lunch and took some time to pass our cameras around for a preview of some of the weekend’s pictures. That was an eye-opener, to say the least.
I’ll pause here a moment while you ponder that statement.
We continued down 151 through the town of Marion on the outskirts of Cedar Rapids (larger Iowa city), and it was here that we had our biggest traffic problems with cars separating our group and trucks unwilling to give an inch to help us keep together. More butt puckering as we ran the gauntlet down to the junction of 151 and Interstate 80 at the Amana Colonies, then thankfully a gas stop where we could breathe again for
few minutes, count fingers and toes to make sure we were all still in one piece, and get familiar with the westward route home. (I didn’t get the full story, but I know Judy B. had a close call with an impatient driver during this portion of the ride. She was understandably pissed and a little shaken at the gas stop.)
We followed County Roads F52, F57 and F62 west, and took our final gas stop at Prairie City about 20 miles east of Des Moines. We toasted our trip and said our good-byes, as we’d all be peeling off in different directions once we hit Highway 163 into the city. It was the last “group moment” of an awesome three-day adventure, and we vowed to expand on the idea for next year with more days and more amazing women.
I rolled into my driveway at home at about 6:30 p.m. Monday night, wishing I’d taken an extra day off work to recover from my vacation but happy to see my family and thrilled to note my biker sunburn: the lower two-thirds of my face are deep red, while the parts covered by my sunglasses and do-rag/helmet combo were distinctly lighter. It’s a look I wear with pride!
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Having conquered Poopy’s, we left Savanna around 5:45 p.m. with Laurie and her GPS-equipped bike in the lead, and headed for Sunday night’s supper destination: Breitbach’s Restaurant in Balltown, Iowa. Breitbach’s is Iowa’s longest-existing restaurant and bar, dating back to the mid-1800’s.
the road - I’m sure several of them must be bed-and-breakfast inns.
The ride back to Galena was interesting. I hate riding deer-laden roads at night. (I’m quite certain the little buggers hover behind every tree on these dark country highways, just waiting for the opportunity to spring out onto the road and offer a cheerful - if stupidly mutually-destructive - “hello!” to us bikers.) By the time supper was concluded, it was dusk and now we had to ride back to Galena… along an unfamiliar deer-laden road at night. To further complicate things for me, I happened to be the last bike out of the restaurant, and the closest bike to me was a good hundred or more yards ahead for the first several miles of the trip. I had to ride about 10 mph faster than was comfortable for me on that road just to keep tail lights in sight, and that made me far less confident that I would spot any lurking deer far enough in advance to avoid a collision. (This is where the “ride your own ride” advice kind of fails: if I had ridden my own ride, I would’ve slowed down - but then would have quickly lost the rest of my group, and been forced to ride alone at night without a map in unfamiliar territory.)
Day Two started out with a fond (if slightly hung-over) farewell to McGregor and a short hop down the road to the Isle of Capri Casino, where we enjoyed the breakfast buffet.
anyone visiting that area. It’s a narrow little road under a canopy of trees which runs right alongside the Lower Wisconsin River (which feeds into the Mississippi back at that Pikes Peak Overlook) and offers constant twists and curves as well as beautiful views (woops! and deer!). Our group spread out a little so we could each enjoy the road, and when we pulled up to the stop-sign at the end of it we all let out a “WOOHOO!!” so Holly would know we had enjoyed it.
I met up with Susan S. and Michelle C. once I got parked; my only purchase (besides bottled water) was a bottle of homemade hot sauce from
out Poopy’s had relocated a little ways out of town), but true to our womanhood we were not afraid to stop and ask directions so we soon found it.
What happens when 30-plus high-spirited biker women go bar-hopping in a small town?
What do women bikers want?
and east to Grundy Center where we had our first gas/potty stop. We eyed the western sky a little nervously at first - it looked like it might rain on us - but eventually the clouds went away and we never saw a drop.
By this time the Iowa landscape had certainly changed: in central Iowa, there are some gentle hills and lots of lush green cornfields, but in the northeastern part of the state you start to see some significant bluffs and hills as the land climbs up from the Mississippi River.
bathroom) and getting everyone to stand still at the same time proved nearly impossible. (I’m pretty sure Marquette and Joliet didn’t have this problem.)
WOW!!

