Daughter Engaged, Has New Job, and We're Cycling Outside

Caption: From left, Maria Conzemius; in middle, Sarah Conzemius; on right, Matt A. Quinn. Photo taken by Jesse Conzemius, Sarah's brother, our son.

Our daughter Sarah and attorney Matt A. Quinn just got engaged, and she just got a new job at her same company, American Waters. The new job has a higher base pay and much better hours. She’ll have weekends and holidays off! Her boss is sorry to see her go. He joked that he lost her bid form. One of her former supervisors congratulated her and said she'd go far in the water industry. He said it was his honor to train her.

So we were in a great mood when we decided to join the MelonHeads this past Saturday for a cold, rainy, sleeting, snowy bike ride from Missippi Brew in Muscatine to Mad Marv’s in Fruitland, Iowa. Instead of wearing a helmet, I wore my mad bomber hat from China to stay warm. I didn’t fall down, so all was well. The MelonHeads weren’t sure they were going to allow a nonhelmeted rider on Highway 61, but they decided they were "in no position to impose safety regulations on anyone."

We took a scenic journey on back country roads in river bottom land past quaint little farms till the MelonHeads stopped for “roadies.” Those are the beers they carry with them as emergency supplies after emptying pitchers of beer at the Missippi Brew.

Just how much beer does it take to get the MelonHeads 10 miles and back?

I was warm everywhere but in my toes, which were going numb with cold, so I was in no mood to stop for a cold one, not that I drink beer in any case. I drink the hard stuff in modest quantities most of the time. What I needed most was warmth and shelter to thaw out my toes before they dropped off frozen along the roadside, so I took off and reached Highway 61.

I knew to turn left, because I asked directions from nearby residents when I finally lost sight of Tom Hammer and Al. I rode the footwide, paved shoulder with rumbles carved into the shoulder (carved in the shoulder so vehicles would know when they’d left the road).

Most drivers pulled into the opposite lane of the one I was riding next to, but not one goofball in a white sedan. He buzzed me as close as he could without knocking me over. And he had his whole family with him, small children and all! He veered left into his lane at a safe distance once he passed me, so I know his buzz was intentional. I was so mad and scared I had a hard time keeping my line for a sec, but I remembered in time to stay safe.

This is why I will never own or carry a loaded gun. My temper is such I’d probably shoot the next son of a gun who buzzed me or engaged in some hostile, anti-bicyclist act, and none of those anti-social nut jobs is worth going to prison for.

Once the MelonHeads caught up to me at Mad Marv's in Fruitland, we had a great time. Norm Kasten, the tallest MelonHead, a kindly stringbean of a man who once rode 1.25 miles with Lance Armstrong, lent me a pair of grey socks to put over my wet wool socks. After a couple of hot coffees laced with Bailey’s Irish cream, I was toasty all the way back to the Missippi Brew in Muscatine. Norm further cemented his friendship with Jim and me by noticing Jim’s helmet and gloves he left in the bike stall behind the Brew and took them home with him. Norm texted Jim that he had Jim’s helmet and gloves on Sunday morning and Jim drove down to get them before the Hawkeye/Villanova game began (groan).

With great company, hot Irish coffee, and an extra pair of dry socks, it’s amazing what you can do, even when it’s snowing! We rode our bicycles the next day too in Iowa City, stopping at Blackstone’s. I can’t wait until it’s warm enough so I can start wearing my watermelon helmet again. It’d be safer.