Photos by Christopher Gannon/The Des Moines Register.

Brooklyn, known as the “Community of Flags” in Iowa, surely added to the All-American experience that is RAGBRAI.

After catching up on their sleep, day six of RAGBRAI will route riders 75 miles from Grinnell to Coralville on Friday.

-Christopher Gannon

Rick Stumpff atop his big bike. (Special to The Register)

This year isn’t the first time that Rick Stumpff or  Blaise Faber has ridden RAGBRAI, and they’ve heard it all. Their back story bears repeating, since so many riders continually wonder why these guys are stuck in the 19th century amid a swarm of high-tech bikes.

There’s a key difference in how these guys experience RAGBRAI compared to the vast majority of riders whose bikes cut a much lower profile and operate on much newer technology: They can’t talk much while going up hills.

I’ve seen during this, my inaugural ride: how bike-to-bike conversation is a key component, particularly on the way up hellish hills. The slower pace encourages interaction if only to help riders spur each other on.

But Stumpff, 45, and Faber, 26, can barely even breath, they said, while pedaling up a hill — so don’t take them for anti-social if they don’t chit-chat.

Their 50-pound bikes were built in Madison, Conn., as exact reproductions of vintage models.  (The man who built these reproductions in the late 1980s and early ’90s, Jim Spillane, died earlier this month.) Stumpff rides an 1884 Victor replica, while Faber is atop an 1890 Eagle (the first American bicycle, he said, in terms of original design) with the small wheel situated in front for safety. (So, no, gawkers, he’s not riding it backwards.)

There are no gears. It’s direct drive, which means these guys pedal down all the hills as well as up.

“You work your tris a lot, which is surprising on the hills,” Faber said. “Thighs and calves more than quads.”

“I don’t have a functioning brake,” Stumpff reminded me, then showed me the sole of his tennis shoe, where a groove was worn from applying friction with his foot to stop the bike.

This lofty pair is part of Team 5 O’Clock Somewhere, a crew of about 13 riders dominated by conventional bikers.

Faber is inspired by these big bikes’ sheer craftsmanship — “outstanding considering what they had in the 1800s.”

Stumpff is a funeral director by trade, so he’s buoyed by the “sheer amount of smiles and happy people” he sees along the road in reaction to the bikes.

He’s thrilled that he “can make somebody smile one week a year compared to at work.”

Strangely enough, the 5 O’Clock team bus is the opposite of these guys’ archaic bikes, with its four TVs, a full bar, mirrors, shower, strobe lights, etc.

The big bikes atop the 5 O'Clock Somewhere bus. (Special to The Register)

Team 5 O'Clock Somewhere's plush bus interior. (Special to The Register)

“It’s strictly for RAGBRAI,” Stumpff said of the bus.

Stumpff, from Kimberling City, Mo., has ridden big bikes for about a dozen years. He got the bug from a mentor and bike collector in Springfield, Mo. This is his third year on RAGBRAI riding the big wheel.

Faber, born and raised in Phoenix, Ariz., also does leather work, web page design and photography. He plans to embark April 22 next year on a cross-country ride in honor of pioneering bicyclist Tom Stevens, who embarked on the first transcontinental bicycle trek on that same date way back in 1884 — long before the Eisenhower Interstate system converted cattle paths into roadways.

Stumpff, left, and Faber pose during RAGBRAI 2010 in downtown Parkersburg, Ia. (Chris Gannon/The Register)

If you want to get with the jargon, Stumpff and Faber are wheelmen.

Also: Stumpff has sported hot wool duds so far this week but will wear pink Wednesday to raise awareness for breast cancer research.

I chatted with the big bicyclists in Carroll on board their ostentatious bus. Stumpff’s 19-year-old son, Tim, was there, too.

“I could ride a high-wheel bicycle before a regular bike,” Tim said of his childhood.

Now that kid is a spoke off the old wheel, so to speak.

The three mermaids, all 17 and local high school seniors from Kimballton, were, from left, Taylor Peterson, Codi Bissen and Cassidy Bissen.

Yes, the Bissens are twin sisters.

And aqua fashion comes natural to this trio: They’re all lifeguards at the pool.

“We want to buy a heater,” Cassidy explained.

Fortunately, RAGBRAI riders are interested only in cold, cold water. And mermaid photos.

Also in Elk Horn: Mayor Stan Jens greeted riders on Main Street with gusto:

I rolled up behind one conversation on my way north out of Griswold and couldn’t help but eavesdrop: The guy was talking about how he and his brother aim to ride across every state in the nation, while the woman was from Alaska and said that she was able to bike to within 150 miles of the Arctic Circle.

I was just steeling myself for the rest of the way into Lewis!

And apparently I need a cadence meter for my bike to help keep myself at the peak rpm for my knees and the rest of my legs.

On the other hand, I’ve been seeing so many familiar faces and places on RAGBRAI that it feels like old home week. Well, I guess it was old home day: I grew up in southwest Iowa. My parents still live in rural Silver City, and I graduated from high school in Carson. (Fellow southwest Iowan Chuck “Iowa Boy” Offenburger even chatted with me about the convergence of my first RAGBRAI and my roots in Mills, Pottawattamie and Cass counties.

Here are some snaps from my first day:

My cousin Brooke Freiborg, left, and her business partner, Deb Amorde, launched a new line of women’s bicycling tank tops this year, Moxie Cycling, and sold them in Glenwood. I ran into their booth at the expo and have  since been spotting the Moxie tops on the route:

Phil Joens of Sioux City is riding this year’s RAGBRAI. He’s the ball hawk whom I wrote about in June 2010. I’m also happy to report that Joens has decided to launch into a journalism career and will be attending college at Mizzou. (Journalism can use all the young talent it can get these days.)

Bikers streamed past my childhood Methodist church in Silver City, the day’s first pass-through town. Pancakes (courtesy of “Mr. Pancake”) were being lobbed heavenward in lieu of prayers in the church and parsonage’s front yard:

Jacque Jerkovich of Council Bluffs took care of the annoyance of rolling up her sleeves by having friend Rich Lang of Council Bluffs hack off the sleeves with his pocket knife on the side of the road in Silver City. And she gave me one of them to hang on my bike. So I guess I’m collecting sleeves rather than RAGBRAI team koozies:

Matt Donovan of Ankeny is roller-blading RAGBRAI this year because of his bad back (from high school pole-vaulting):

Deb Rozeboom of Sauk Rapids, Minn., took a horrible spill last year on her first RAGBRAI and broke her left arm. But she’s back in the saddle this year and showed off her scar from surgery to install a plate as long as 6 inches, with six screws:

I have to admit that I wasn’t as impressed with the roller-blader when I learned that Blake Anderson of Iowa City is skateboarding RAGBRAI for charity:

My Carson-Macedonia High School class of 1990 was represented well along the route: The biggest parties on either side of Carson took place on two of my classmates’ farms.

Todd Richardson had everything from Mr. Pork Chop to Kelly’s Berry Best Pies on his 5-acre farmstead. (Oh, and free beer, which might have made a difference.) Here’s Todd in front of the throng:

Riders stoot in cool mist and also signed their hometowns (or countries) to a map:

And then on the other side of Carson, near Griswold, classmate Amy (Canoyer) Wyman and her family had their Canoyer Country Greenhouse well stocked with vendors — and strategically placed at the top of a stubborn hill in the middle of a sweltering afternoon.

But let me end with an image of a RAGBRAI pie — my first piece of the ride, a “Berry supreme” slice from the Richardson farm:

Much more to come … I need to crash now so I don’t tomorrow …

I asked him about his day as he was collapsed in the schoolyard lawn near the world’s biggest bicycle.

And yes, he explained his green facial hair, too.

TJ Juskiewicz, RAGBRAI Director said, “For many years, our riders have been showcasing their college spirit while riding through our great state of Iowa and it was our goal to create a special day of fun that we could recognize the nation’s colleges and universities, starting with the universities of Drake, Iowa, Iowa State and Northern Iowa.”

Juskiewicz added, “We invite all riders to show their support for their favorite schools on Friday, July 29.”

Organizers are continuing to plan festivities around RAGBRAI College Spirit Day. One exciting event planned is the “RAGBRAI Mascot Challenge” in Coralville. All mascots are invited to participate in the fun and celebrate their school spirit. For more information on the “RAGBRAI Mascot Challenge”, please contact Gregg Niemiec at gniemiec@hawkeyesports.com.

In true college spirit, RAGBRAI has launched a new collegiate merchandise collection. The collection includes a men’s and women’s jersey by Primal and technical tees and baseball caps for Drake, Iowa, Iowa State and Northern Iowa. Merchandise can be purchased at SHOP.RAGBRAI.ORG

RAGBRAI, the world’s oldest, largest and longest annual bicycle ride across Iowa. RAGBRAI is an Iowa tradition held annually the last week of July. It celebrates the sights, sounds, friends and the hospitality of the warm and friendly people of Iowa.

Orders will be accepted until December 20 for holiday delivery. 

Vist the RAGBRAI Shop to order

Of course you do. The guy’s a legend.

Well, two of his new fans, riders Greta Songe and John Martinek, are making a short animated film about him. (Songe, by the way, is part of the Tiny Circus animation team that worked out of the Airstream trailer for the past two years at the Des Moines Arts Festival.)

Here’s a clip from the cartoon, which is still a work in progress:

– Michael Morain