Marin County

MILL VALLEY, CALIFORNIA
Rodrigo Garcia and I met at the Mill Valley Community Center parking lot and rode up to Scout Hall where the 4K for Cancer group was staying. Upon arriving we asked if anyone wanted to go for a 40 mile tour of Marin Co. Only Peter Bai was willing to go with us.

It was cool if not cold. I wasn’t prepared for it expecting to ride in 90 degree weather each day. I should have remembered Mark Twain stating “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.” Thankfully, I had brought along my base layer jacket which I would wear.

(Or maybe Mark Twain didn’t say it. See SanFranciscoHistory.)

We rolled through the communities of Mill Valley, Corte Madera, Ross, and Fairfax; Rodrigo being the perfect host pointing out tidbits of information. When we turned to ride up to Alpine Dam we all stopped and removed the outer wear we had on. Just a few miles north made all the difference in temperature. Thankfully, Peter had a bag on the back of his bike where he could stow my jacket.

I had rented a Trek 1.2 from Summit Bikes in San Rafael. It wasn’t set
up for climbing, at least for my climbing, and I soon knew it. I followed
Rodrigo’s wheel and at times it seems he was pedaling twice as fast
although we were going the same speed. He was spinning. I was mashing.


It was a very relaxing climb. The weather was perfect. The views were
gorgeous. And the company was superb! And we stopped to take pictures.
It really was a great day on the bike.

Peter Bai, Photographer

After having ridden about 25 miles Peter asked how far we were planning to ride. I told him 40 miles and he said “I thought you said four miles.” We laughed at him. A lot. He explained that he thought it would be four that turned into 10 so he never said a word. Now he was on the hook for 40.

The Pacific Ocean is under all that fog
After Alpine Dam we climbed up to Mt. Tam (Tamalpais) and that wasn’t so bad. Until we reached the summit or plateau. Then began a stretch known as the “Seven Sisters” and even Rodrigo thought there were more hills than seven. It was gorgeous here but the road dropped in maniac undulations, each climb taking a bigger toll on me.

To our right was the Pacific Ocean but all we could see were clouds of
fog below us. It was like flying above the clouds. Reaching the main intersection we could
continue to Mt. Tam State Park or start our descent. Here Peter would extract
his revenge. When Rodrigo asked if we should descend or go to the
State Park, Peter said “let’s ride.”

Peter Bai

I was hoping the road was simply a summit road but it wasn’t. More climbing. It featured some crazy sections of 18% grade. We were rewarded with a view of San Francisco – covered by fog. Couldn’t see a thing other than the tower on Pacific Heights sticking through the clouds.


We turned and headed back, mindful that we also had some screaming descents on the way to the park. We had to climb out of here before descending.

Once back to the intersection where it was still warm, we stopped and followed Rodrigo’s direction to put our warm clothes back on. That was backwards in that usually most mountains are cool and the valleys are warm, Mt. Tam was warm because it was above the clouds and fog. Once we started the descent it got cold. The closer we got to Mill Valley the colder it got. The winds blew in from off the ocean making handling the bikes tricky.

Overlooking Mill Valley
I was disappointed I couldn’t go faster on that Trek – but I made it. Back at Scout Hall, we celebrated by going to In-N-Out Burger – a perfect way to end the day.

Let’s Get This Over With

CLINTON, IOWA

Although I had planned which cycling kits I would wear throughout the week and I still had clean kits to wear, the RAGBRAI XL and Bike Virginia jerseys were still available, I decided to wear my Cyclists Combating Cancer kit again. I had washed it in the shower on Monday although it’s never laundry fresh until it is washed for real.

But I wanted to display my support for Jacob Grecco and took a permanent marker and wrote PRAY FOR JAKE on my jersey. Jake had gone to Germany for two weeks of treatment and responded very well in the first 10 days or so. But just a couple of days before scheduled to return, he had become very ill.

With a feeling of “let’s get this over with” and wondering how my legs would respond to a 72-mile ride after 500 in five days, I rolled out of Anamosa early. The intense heat had broken from the storm Wednesday in Marshalltown and it may have been in the 50s when we rolled out so early. It was very delightful.

Early on I passed an older woman with a “license plate” on her bike that said Prayer Requests Taken. I rode by and said “Jake the Hero.” She may not have heard me as I kept going. When I stopped at a farm stand for some juice and a muffin, I saw her go rolling by in the crowd. This time I would do it right.

I caught her and told her “Jake the Hero.” I told her Jake was in Germany and we were trying to get him home. She said she would pray for him but wasn’t sure of his name. “Jake the Hero” is enough, I said. “God knows who he is.”

I passed a girl with two flags in her helmet – a Swiss flag and a U.S flag. I asked her if she was from Switzerland and she said she was. Near Zurich. Her sister had been an exchange student and came back to visit her host family so she came with her and rode RAGBRAI.

Coming into Delmar I stopped at a corner Lemonade Stand — just 25 cents a cup. Two cute kids ran the stand and I was tired of water and Gatorade. I gave them a dollar for a cup and they started to make change. I laughed. “Everything’s a dollar (or more) on RAGBRAI,” I said. I got a second cup then gave them another dollar and they filled my water bottle with Lemonade. And gave out free Rice Krispie treats.

Two girls selling lemonade – and a free Rice Krispie treat too – Delmar, Ia.

RAGBRAI means a lot to the communities. Countless people had water hoses turned on. Some were sprinklers where one could ride through; others were looking to spray those who wanted to be sprayed. When I took the time to stop it was fun meeting people although I would not try to meet people in every town. To do so would mean I would never finish.

Delmar, Iowa. Cyclists seeking shade.

I passed a roller blader — “The whole way?,” I asked. He said yes. Impressive.

Lunch in Charlotte, Iowa

At ten miles to go the signs marked each mile. A couple of miles from the Mississippi River in Clinton, Iowa, people lined the streets and sat in their yards as though they were waiting for a trade to pass. And they were. We were the parade. Most were clapping. Almost all had congratulatory signs.

Just 10 more miles to go. Why the 0.2?

It meant a lot to the people to congratulate the riders. Approaching Clinton we passed a park and the River City Band was playing. These are good folks these Iowans.

River City Band in Clinton, Iowa

I went to the finish banner and although I said I would not dip my tire in the Mississippi, I followed the crowds and did so. I was only reserving dipping for the occasion when I ride across the U.S. and use the oceans as my dipping points. But it was fun.

Dipping. Or preparing to dip, in the Mississippi River.

I then made my way to the Brancel Charters meet-up point which was the long-term parking area. I found my luggage then pitched my tent to let it air since it had dew on it in the morning. I had a few hours before my group finished so it could air out before I packed it for the ride home.

Mississippi River, Clinton, Ia. – 2021
(Showing the ending location used in 2012 and 2021)
Source: Facebook page of RAGBRAI, posted 31 Jul 2021
Two riders on right: Paul McClintic and Kevin Skellenger. Source: Des Moines Register, 31 Jul 2021

Noticing my mileage, I then went for a 10-mile ride to make it 700 for the week. It was a good week.


Livestrong for Jake

ANAMOSA, IOWA

I had wanted to ride with Scott Scudamore and his friends from IMBA although they constantly stroked my ego by telling me how much stronger and faster I was. Today would be the day. I would stay with them no matter what.

We stayed together nine miles.

Overnight we had camped on the outskirts of Cedar Rapids. In the morning we rode to the downtown area. When we came to Czech Village they had “Breakfast on the Bridge” which was very nice. But it also meant confusion in walking across the long bridge over the Cedar River.

Breakfast on the Bridge – Cedar Rapids, Ia.

I found two riders of Scott’s group on a tandem, Nancy DeVore and Coroleen Bean and stayed with them for a couple of blocks as they tried to get the front wheel of their recumbent fixed. And did.

After the repair, I slipped into the Chrome Horse Saloon for an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet ($8) and never saw anyone from Scott’s group the rest of the day. I honestly tried to stay with them. No matter what.

Chrome Horse Saloon, Cedar Rapids, Iowa

All alone with 23,000 other cyclists, I headed towards Anamosa. There were a couple of climbs coming out of Cedar Rapids which slowed many riders. I passed a rider from LIVESTRONG but kept going. At the top of the climb I decided to wait for her. After a few minutes and thinking I had missed her, I jumped on the bike then more LIVESTRONG riders passed by me including this one.

This time I did not miss my opportunity. Eliza Hanson was riding in Honor of “Normal” so I asked her what “Normal” was. Eliza told me that cancer patients don’t want anything other than to be Normal. And that was what she was riding for.

Then I told her I wanted to write on her back. I wanted her to ride for Jake. And she let me. I told her the story of Jake and then wrote “Jake The Hero Grecco” on her back and then left to never see her again.

Eliza Hanson, Team Livestrong

I was surprised with the ease and my interest in riding with the cycling cancer community at RAGBRAI. Four years ago I wouldn’t have wanted to ride with them and now I found myself seeking them out.

On the ride it was college spirit day. Riders were asked to wear their alma mater or favorite college jersey. With the NCAA sanctions against Penn State coming down, it wasn’t a good time to be a Nittany Lion. I wore the sweater of the Pittsburgh Penguins. Yes, I know, that’s not a college.

Arriving Mt. Vernon I suspect that every college in Iowa had a booth on the side of the
streets and this was one you absolutely had to walk through. Slowly. Mount Vernon is a beautiful town and home to Cornell College.

One of my favorite team busses

All week we had been traveling with Brancel Charters. There are different levels of charters available but with Brancel we knew our luggage would be transported separately from RAGBRAI’s and we didn’t have to sort through it. It also meant that we had our own camping area scouted out. Today it was next to the community swimming pool and stage.

Camping at Goettsch Funeral Home, Anamosa, Iowa

I pitched my tent next to the swimming pool — a bad idea — and then — went for a ride. I had promised myself to rest some and not do a fifth straight century ride. I had a feeling that might not be good for my body. Today’s ride was listed at 42 miles although we seemed to be six miles from the start point so we were at 48 miles when we arrived in Anamosa.

Penitentiary

I set out to explore the town. I found a penitentiary, then Riverside Cemetery, burial place of the painter, Grant Wood. And I found people camping in the cemetery of the burial place of Grant Wood. With RAGBRAI, anything’s acceptable. And I assume this was a RAGBRAI camp site although do not know for certain.

Riverside Cemetery, Anamosa, Iowa

Although I wasn’t tired, or overly tired, I had promised myself that I would not turn a 42-mile ride into my fifth straight century ride. But my mileage of 75 gave me 500 for five days. Not too bad.

When I returned I noticed two things. First, when I left the pool was empty and very serene. But when I returned it was full of patrons and overflow from the pool ran down the sidewalk right under my tent. This was not good. I tore down the tent and moved it to higher ground.

Camping in Riverside Cemetery, Anamosa, Ia.

Second, there was something big happening at the stage by the pool. And we were the only people who were camping there.

For our last night of RAGBRAI, Bob Brancel brought in a band, Swing Crew, to play for us. Walking towards the stage I could hear the band but only see the audience and they were dying with laughter. I thought the band sounded OK playing “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” but didn’t know why it was so funny. When I walked around the corner I could see that Scott had joined them on stage. He was doing motions to the song, let’s just say these weren’t the motions I learned attending church camp at Camp Allegheny. OMG. So funny!!! (And I deleted the video to protect the guilty.)

Scott Scudamore leading the shenanigans

Shortly after that Scott then led a number of people on stage (pictured) doing the Conga or some type of line dance. A fun time is always what you get when Scott is around. No, it’s a party.


No More Pacelines

CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA

I quit looking for pacelines. I noticed that most days I rode faster than just about everyone which hopefully isn’t as arrogant as it sounds. On the few occasions I was passed it was usually by a paceline and often I caught them later.

I started to jump into a line but halfway back was a rider who pedaled fast, then braked, then coasted. Repeat. I felt the advantage of riding in a paceline was not worth the risk of a crash. It was easier, and safer, to ride by myself.

Riding for Jake (Grecco)

RAGBRAI brings out all kinds of riders and probably less than the average number of serious riders. I passed amputees with one leg. I passed tons of recumbent riders including three-wheel ones for paraplegics using hand cranks. Well done my friends! There were families towing kids, either in trailers or on tandems. Which, in the heat, I think they should be charged with child neglect. Children’s bodies cannot regulate the 100-degree heat for 10-12 hours.

There was a banana boat crew – a tandem recumbent that looked like a boat, in yellow, with five wheels. There was a couple who had a tandem painted in the black and white pattern of a cow. And they wore cow costumes. There was even an older lady who dressed up as the tooth fairy.

The banana crew

I was resigned to enjoying the ride when I rolled into Vinton which may have been the first signs of a city we saw since leaving Sioux Center. A guy advertising Pizza Hut was spinning his sign as I rolled by I reminded him we didn’t come to RAGBRAI to eat at Pizza Hut. I went by and stopped — at Subway. It was so inviting.

Large tractor displayed at a rest stop

Air conditioning. And free refills. It hit the spot.

Once out on the road, I caught or was caught by Cindi and Ken Hart. We then rode together to Cedar Rapids. We could talk about cancer and most importantly, Jake the Hero. I also talked about a group of college students from Baltimore cycling 4,000 miles across the U.S. to raise awareness and money in the fight against cancer. My “Pedal pal” on this trip is Patrick Sheridan.

Jerry Ask – Cycling supporter

Near Cedar Rapids, we pulled over for some free water supplied by Jerry Ask, a cyclist and multi-RAGBRAI rider. I asked him about a local ride since 82 miles wouldn’t be enough today.

Jerry sent me in a direction to “Czech Town” although it is marked as Czech Village. I wondered if that was a derisive term the locals use for it. But I found the path along the Cedar River he recommended and followed it to Ely, Iowa.

Spokes of Hope / Cyclists Combating Cancer sign

At the campsite, next to Cherry Hill Aquatic Center, the decision was which showers to use. The pool had $5 showers, actually free showers with a pool admission while the shower trailer, next to Pork Belly Ventures, was six dollars. I had heard there was standing water in the pool showers, that they were cold, and were spring-loaded for only a few seconds of water at a time. I opted for the trailers. Plus the line to the pool was long.

Showers on RAGBRAI usually meant a 20-40 minute wait, especially on the men’s side. The women had it better because there were far fewer of them on RAGBRAI.

The Brancel Charter moving van which transported our gear every day

Dinner was at Cedar Hills Community Church nearby – prepaid when I registered with Brancel Charters. RAGBRAI campers were spread out through Cedar Rapids. We were camped next to the water park but there were no close-by eateries. But there was the church close that served dinner which was presented to us as an attractive option. They served chicken breasts and corn. It was pretty good actually.

Mileage: 115. It was my fourth century in four days.

Scott Scudamore in Cedar Rapids

Even Stronger Winds

MARSHALLTOWN, IOWA
I didn’t wear any cancer apparel which would have come in handy today. Riding solo I came to Story City and saw the Spokes of Hope banner on the left. I hit the brakes then went over and introduced myself. 
I met Cindi and Ken Hart, “Cindi from Indy” as she says. Cindi and another rider left without me but I pulled over down the road when she had flatted so I could watch him fix her flat. (I really did offer to help but three people on a flat are two too many.)

Cindi Hart

It was another hot day (100+ degrees) day on our way to Marshalltown.
Other than the brief encounter with Cindi, I met no one and just kept
riding to the city. And looking to keep cool.

Cute kids selling water in McCallsburg, Iowa
Many groups or people sold water. Some gave away free ice water. The Air Force
reserve had tanker trucks on the route at one location per day for free
water. Residents had sprinklers next to the road and some had garden
hoses and were more than willing to hose down riders who wanted drenched.

But my favorite stop was in Clemons where a sprinkler hose was stretched across the street. I removed my cell phone from my pocket then enjoyed the water.

Sprinkler hose stretched over the street in Clemons, Iowa

Arriving Marshalltown, I stopped at a convenience store and talked to the manager. I asked him where the locals ride and he told me of a river path on the levee that goes 10 miles out of town. Once set up I went for a quiet 10-mile ride and found a delightful nature center at Grimes Farm. I even climbed a steep hill, on a grass path, to an observation tower.

In Marshalltown I met Michelle Haalman, a fellow cancer survivor and friend of my sister, Brenda. She is working for Bubba’s Pampered Pedalers and often buys Steelers tickets from me. It was nice to say hello.

Highest point in town
Maybe in Iowa*

After a catered dinner ($9) at the site, I went swimming in the Iowa River. The water seemed bath water warm and wasn’t real refreshing. Plus there were small fish nibbling at me.

Art work on the bike trail underpass

At sunset a storm moved in. Not just any storm but a wicked storm. One hellacious wicked storm. Hunkered down in my tent, I thought the sides would tear. I’m guessing two gusts of wind hit hard. The first was 50 mph and the second 60. Who knows, they could have been 20 and 30 or 80 and 90 — but the second was stronger than the first. If my body weight had not been in the tent it surely would have taken off.

Then lightning and thunder struck all around. This was one where you’d see the lighting and hear the thunder, almost simultaneously. Then the rain came. And I was scared. We were among trees and the fear was a branch could be struck and fall and crush us as well. And Marshalltown was the one place on RAGBRAI where they had no safe evacuation for us. No shelter in schools.

We simply waited it out. And no one got hurt although I heard of damage later.

A note about the mileage: I forgot to reset the Garmin after the ride so it includes the first 59 miles of the next day ride. It does not include an extra mile on the levee at the end of the day when I was charging the Garmin and it wasn’t on the bike. Total: 101.5.

___
*It’s not. Marshalltown is at 942′. The highest point is 1600′.

Strong Winds and a Strong Ride

WEBSTER CITY, IOWA

I wore my full Belgian FUCANCER kit today, riding for Jake. I packed the tent and then asked a stranger in our campground to write “JAKE GRECCO” on my calves. Lots of people write “Virgin” on their calves to indicate they are first-time RAGBRAIers but from the beginning, I told Scott Scudamore that I would only write Jake’s name on my legs.

I saw Scott at the campsite but he wasn’t ready so I rolled out at 6:15 a.m. I rode on my own for 20 miles, almost always passing people and rarely being passed. And if I was passed I always looked to see if I could jump in and make or join a paceline.

An old service station in Webster City

Pace lines were discouraged if not prohibited. I already realized that a typical RAGBRAI pace line was one guy pulling and 5-6 guys wheel sucking. They weren’t pace lines at all — just wheel suckers looking for a free ride.

But then three guys went by me and I jumped on their wheels. It was easy to follow because they kept a steady pace with a constant cadence – no herky-jerky pedaling movements. When the first guy peeled off the front and slid back he saw me on 4th wheel. Without saying a word, I slid up to 3rd wheel so he could fall in behind me. Perfect. I was part of a four-man pace line.

They were three guys from Des Moines, Brad, Pat, and Joe, later to be joined by a fourth, Jay. At Mile 52 we stopped in Dayton and ate watermelon. Without a word, we were four. I was waiting for them and they were waiting for me.

Joe, from Des Moines, in Stratford, Iowa

We went 10 miles and turned onto the Karras Loop. This 22-mile loop was designed to allow riders to turn one day into a century ride. Named for the founder of RAGRBAI, John Karras, he was actually at the stopping town on the loop, Stratford, for photos or a meet and greet.

The winter day I rode at Trexlertown, Pa., featured the windiest gusty day I ever rode. But I think this day was second. None of us knew for sure but 30 mph seemed like the right measurement for the gusts of winds. And so we rode directly into 30 mph headwinds most of the way. Or a lot of the way. And still, we hammered it.

Brad (Bianchi green) and Pat, in Stratford, Iowa

I stopped in Stratford for lunch and had the most delicious chicken sandwich on the trip. To my surprise or amazement, Brad, Joe, and Pat did too. It meant either I still had someone to ride with or meant more miles of suffering keeping up with the pace.

At Lehigh, they stopped to find Jay and I searched for the hill climb. The Register promised a hill climb with a 20-26% grade. I found it. Joe and I did it although it was supposed to be a fundraiser for the town. Lay down $5 and if you can do it in less than three minutes they give you a koozie — a foam cover for your drinks. We did it, neither paid the $5 for a koozie but both in under three minutes. It was a formidable climb, even in Iowa. I suspect it averaged 15% most of the way up.

Lake City, Iowa
The town’s motto is “Everything but a lake”

It was from these guys I learned how the non-registered riders (bandits) do it. Being from Iowa they explained they all know someone who knows someone who has a great aunt living in one of the towns. They contact them to pitch their tent. There are port-a-johns scattered throughout the host cities and showers everywhere – in schools and portable shower trucks mostly.  Apparently, most vendors don’t care if you are registered or not.

The charters do care. To ride with Brancel Charters or any other group, you must be a registered rider. But certainly, the farm stand on the side of the road looks at all money as green.

The Karras Loop Patch

Our bandits rotated driver duties. On any given day one person doesn’t ride but drives to the next location with their gear then often doubles back on their bike part way to meet their group. While the roads aren’t close, most are back roads and the riders often fan all the way across the road. It is always scary and dangerous to meet a rider coming against the flow of traffic.

Today Jay, their designated driver, met us in Lehigh. As we climbed out of the river valley we dropped Pat. I was hoping, even praying, that we would sit up and wait for him but they seemed to think he wanted to drop and ride at his own pace. The pace we were keeping was too much for him. We remained at four riders.

And we rode at our pace, which into a strong wind, and was hard. Arriving at Webster City, we did a rolling goodbye, never to see, or even really know who my friends were, again.

Maybe I should not have ridden with them. I play by the rules and having 10,000-15,000 bandits jump in this ride makes it more dangerous than it is. When I learned they weren’t official RAGBRAI riders I could have left them. But today they were just cyclists.

In Webster City, we camped next to a middle school. Showers were $5 and the school served a spaghetti dinner for $8. Entertainment was by Three Dog Night, which I did not attend. I didn’t want to stay up that late.


This was my second 100-mile ride in a row. The legs held up fine with most of the damage from the hard pace into the wind. Average speed was almost 18 mph over these 100 miles which include time walking through towns. Plus it was 100 degrees.


Mr. Pork Chop

LAKE VIEW, IOWA

Sunday was hot and Monday (today) got hotter. With 20,000 cyclists you will never be first or last at anything. Never. Get up at 4:30 to be first? Guaranteed that someone is already on the road.

Even if you wanted to sleep in, which on RAGBRAI is until sunrise, it’s almost impossible. With our charter, we had a campsite and all tents were close together. Someone was always up before sunrise tearing down their tent and dragging their roller bags to the truck. And talking. And so I was up before sunrise.

The daily routine was to roll up the sleeping bag (used to lay on, never to crawl in), dress for the day’s ride, smoosh the clothes back into the suitcase, tear down and pack the tent, then take the two bags to the truck. Check the air in the tires, jump on the bike and roll. Breakfast, if at all, would come on the road.

Good morning Iowa!

I wore my new Cyclists Combating Cancer kit, thinking of 8-year-old Jacob Grecco getting hyperthermia treatments in Germany. 

On the bus ride from Clinton to Sioux City we saw the official RAGBRAI welcome video. It was clear that Mr. Pork Chop was a tradition not to be missed. But there were other vendors too. And I found the Schwan Ice Cream Man.

The Schwan Ice Cream Man

RAGBRAI is a celebration of Iowa. Maybe of cycling too, but mostly Iowa. For the host towns, it is a major event to be selected. But even for the pass-thru towns like Schaller, it is huge.

Churches, schools, civic groups, clubs, and sports teams all come out to greet and welcome the riders. And to sell things, mostly food. But not everyone is selling. Like Punxsutawney with the Groundhog Queen or Meyersdale (Pa.) with the Maple Queen, and thousands of communities with their various themed queens, this town wanted to greet us with their best. And I met Schaller’s 2012 Popcorn Queen, Heather Hansen.

Heather Hansen, 2012 Popcorn Queen

Heather was mingling with other friends when I asked for a photograph. Once I did it seemed a line form to get a picture with her.

I only had to walk a few meters through Schaller before being able to jump on the bike and roll. Once back on the road, I met Rod Ambelang from Kansas City. We were wearing the same CCC jersey so we talked about — cancer. We rode for a while before I joined an ill-formed paceline and went down the road far ahead of him.

Mr. Pork Chop

I wasn’t with the paceline long and we broke up when we came to the roadside stand of Mr. Pork Chop, a RAGBRAI tradition. Unfortunately, so is the stupid tradition of rides going by yelling “Mr. Pork CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!” For $7 I got a chop so thick that I could not eat the entire thing. But I tried it.

Helper of Mr. Pork Chop

At Sac City, I stopped to see the World’s Largest Popcorn Ball. It’s a celebration of Iowa and the Sac City natives were proud of their ball. This was straight out of National Lampoon’s Vacation.

World’s Largest Ball of Popcorn, Sac City, Iowa

After Sac City I caught Rod again. We rode together the last 10 miles to Lake View and then said goodbye.

Rod Ambelang, Barry Sherry

Once I got to camp and set up, I surmised the situation. I just rode 65 miles. It was 100º. I could shower, put on clothes, then sweat through them. Or —  I could ride.

I asked a local resident how far it was around the lake and she told me seven miles. So I did five loops of the lake trying to keep cool. And to see if it was foolish to ride 100 miles before tomorrow’s century ride.

Lake View, Iowa

After a shower, I took a shuttle (a wagon pulled by a tractor) into town for a $9 spaghetti dinner at the United Methodist Church. The line, unbeknownst to me when I entered it, was more than one hour, the first 30 minutes spent in the 100º sun. Inside we were ushered into the sanctuary until our number was called to eat.

I sat beside a couple and asked Emily Fuhrman where she was from. She said Fort Wayne, Indiana, and introduced me to her boyfriend who was from Houston, Ohio (pronounced House-ton, by the way). She was hesitant at first to name the town because it was so small no one would have ever heard of it. A small town about 40 miles north of Dayton. When she said Houston I paused and said, “Oh, I attended school there.” And I had attended school there in 1966-1967. It’s a small world indeed.


My good friend, Scott, came rolling in with a group around 3:00 or 4:00. He asked me when I arrived at I told him 11:00 a.m. He was astounded. “How you could do that, he asked?” And I told him I rode 100 miles today.

I proceeded to ask Scott about his day. He said they rolled out but stopped to grab breakfast in Cherokee. In Aurelia, they stopped for refreshments (not sure if this was alcohol or not).

In Schaller, Scott and some friends went to a beer garden and spent a lot of time there then sought relief from some sprinklers. In Sac City, he went into an air-conditioned church (which was open to riders) and fell asleep on a pew. Then, perhaps, another beer garden.

Just rolling through Iowa
Photo Credit: Rob Ambelang

Two different approaches to RAGBRAI. Me, I just wanted to ride my bike. Scott, on the other hand, wanted to enjoy everything there was about Iowa. We were both happy with our different approaches to this ride.


Me and 23,000 Friends

CHEROKEE, IOWA

I waited for Scott Scudamore and his group of friends and they asked me to lead them out, joking that I would soon drop them. We went 150 meters and I pulled over to look for a friend, Mickey Haalman, who was working with Bubba’s Pampered Pedalers. They rolled on without me and I never saw them the rest of the day. And I didn’t see Mickey either.

Rolling out of Sioux Center

We rolled out of Sioux Center. The fire department hung American flags high above the road for our roll out. Thousands, 10,000 registered and estimates of 23,000 total, rolled out of Sioux Center. And I was alone. With thousands.

Marcus, Iowa

Once on the open road one can ride at speed. Mostly. But entering the small towns you often come to a complete stop. So many people are stopping and dismounting that more often than not you have to dismount and walk your bike through the town.

Welcome Shagbrai to Orange City

The first town I came to was Orange City. Dead stop. I thought I could stay on my bike but came to the realization that so many people would just stop and turn that it was safer to walk.

Farm girl and Stephen

I met up with a young man, Stephen, from Chicago and we rode together the entire day. It was nice having company. We stopped at a farm stand selling water, Gatorade, and bananas, a RAGBRAI staple.

A real Iowa farm girl

RAGBRAI is a celebration of Iowa. In the towns and cities where it passes they bring out their firetrucks and hang banners. Churches, schools, scout and civic groups all set up stands selling food. And in between the towns, the farmers set up stands selling food.

In Marcus we stopped for more drink and watermelon. But mostly we pedaled. We did a rolling farewell when we arrived Cherokee, never to see each other again. “Nice riding with you – have a great week.”

Once I arrived in Cherokee, and it was a bit early, I did a little riding around town. I found a nice swimming pool but the line was too long to get in. That would have been the best deal going. At RAGBRAI everything, including a shower, costs money. Rather than pay $6-$8 for a shower I could get a swim and a shower for $6-$8.

Plus I was a little uncomfortable leaving my bike outside the pool without locking it. I don’t carry a lock. My bike is in my car, in my house, or between my legs. Or at RAGBRAI, in my tent.

Marcus, Iowa

I found a restaurant where I could leave my bike outside the window and watch it while eating in my booth. If you want to know, it was a Pizza Hut. But it worked.

Charging station at Brancel Charters

I ate dinner then went to the campsite where I put the bike in my tent, showered, and enjoyed some good company of others before dark. I also found the recharging station that we had at our camp. It was generator powered and I grabbed two spots – one for my phone and one for my Garmin.

As soon as it was dark I went to bed. I’m boring.


 

RAGBRAI

SIOUX CENTER, IOWA

It’s called the Des Moines Registers’ Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa –
aka RAGBRAI.
Some cyclists want to do it every year but most every cyclist
wants to attend once. The circumstances worked out that this would be
the year that I rode RAGBRAI.

Logistics can be complicated but I attended with my friend and one-time veteran, Scott Scudamore, which made it easier. We drove to the finish city, Clinton, Iowa, on Friday and took Registers’ Annual Great Bus Ride Across Iowa on Saturday to the start city, Sioux Center. Brancel Bicycle Charters transported our bikes in a moving van to Sioux Center.

And for me, RAGBRAI began in Sioux Center. The city center was transformed into RAGBRAI headquarters and so it began. Arriving around 4:30 p.m., I set up my tent and then went for a bike ride.

Tent City in Sioux Center
RAGBRAI is the ride across Iowa and it seemed disingenuous to not start at the Iowa border yet claim that one rode all the way across Iowa. And although it was hot, something that would dog us all week, I put two bottles of water on the bike and headed west — searching for the South Dakota border.
Lots of Jr. High Humor and Innuendo at RAGBRAI
I found Oak Hill State Park which led to the Big Sioux River, the border between South Dakota and Iowa. There were only a few riders here and each dipped their rear wheel in the river. I didn’t.
Big Sioux River. South Dakota is across the river.

I have been in 44 states but never South Dakota and wanted to cross the river. I thought about wading or swimming to the other side but there was no welcome sign.

I left the park determined to follow a road until I came to South Dakota. Heck, I might even have to ask someone for directions. But I didn’t need to.

On Hwy 10 I found the crossing into South Dakota. Now I was ready to return to Sioux Center in the knowledge that I was about to bike all the way across Iowa.

Barry’s start of RAGBRAI
A RAGBRAI tradition is for rookies to write VIRGIN on their calves. Part hazing but good fun. Jake the Hero Grecco was weighing heavy on my mind and I never allowed anyone to write Virgin on my calves — only Jake’s name would go on my legs.

Dead Legs

CATHARPIN, VA

The last day of Bike Virginia, I had to decide to ride with my cousin, Kay Walborn, one last time, my friends, John Dockins or Vince Amodeo, or something different. Initially I thought I’d roll out with Bike Virginia until the 50 mile mark then head home and ride another 60 miles. In the end I decided to just ride home – a distance of 70-80 miles, depending on which roads I took.

The Bike Virginia folks rolled out starting at 7:00 a.m. and at 7:44 a.m. I got a message from John:

   “Major crash. Road closed. Car hit bike.” 

   “Very somber ride today. People have seen chest compressions on the biker.

I was glad not to be in the group today. I can ride comfortably as one or one in the 2,000. I took the roads I knew and ended up on Kabletown Road. I was surprised when after pulling over to check the message from John a Bike Virginia rider pulled up and asked me if she was on the right road. She must have left at 6:00 a.m. I assured her she was.

Kabletown Road was part of the Bike Virginia route but not until their Mile 40 or so. I simply took a short cut from Ashley’s place over to it to get me home and expected to see no one today since that would put me far in front of the event.

With today’s route one could not get lost. Headed south, you are bordered on the east by the Shenandoah River, on the west by Rte 340, and on the south by Rte 7. Either 340 or 7 takes one to Berryville, the ending location.

But that should not be an issue. Bike Virginia had perhaps the best signage of any supported event I have been on, except perhaps Livestrong-Philly. Up at 4:30 a.m., volunteers were placing signs and cones, and even using some flagmen (and flag women) at dangerous locations.

I continued on, passing the rider, and was first to arrive at the last rest stop of the ride, Moose Apple Christmas Tree Farm.

Moss Apple Christmas Tree Farm

The owner was a retired teacher from Fairfax Co. He has 25,000 trees planted. And sells some stain glass and other crafts on the side. It’s a real neat place. I even passed a turkey going in.

At 8:45 a.m., I was almost two hours ahead of the planned arrival and they were surprised and honored me. They took pictures of this rider. Number One!

I stayed for close to an hour, almost feeling that I had to stay until other riders showed up. Within an hour one did, then another, then my friend John. After a few more minutes it was time to go.

It was bittersweet that I was leaving Bike Virginia. I turned off the route and was now unsupported.

Note to self: The two mile section one has to ride on Route 7 eastbound is very scary. I’m thinking Rte 9 may be safer, especially once the new bypass is in and most of the traffic is off it.

I followed Rte 7 to Snickersville Turnpike and don’t remember a rougher time climbing. I had dead legs. They weren’t sore or didn’t ache. They were just dead. No power. And Snickersville is not flat. It has lots of steep drops and steep climbs. Ugh.

I thought I’d try Rte 234 – Sudley Road and that wasn’t the best option either. No shoulder and 55 mph traffic. At 52 miles in, I heard something break and immediately stopped. It was a spoke on the rear wheel.

With nowhere to go, I could not repair it, I called a cab for the final 27 miles. And fell asleep in someone’s yard.

EPILOGUE — The cyclist died.

The cyclist, a Corning, N.Y., man taking part in the Bike Virginia Tour was in critical condition at Winchester Medical Center Wednesday afternoon after having a heart attack while bicycling through Jefferson County, according to the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department. He died at the Winchester Medical Center late Wednesday night.

It is a somber reminder that this sport that I love is inherently dangerous. And there, but for the Grace of God, go I. Hit by a car with an awkward fall on Saturday, I could have landed badly and died. And faced with what must have been a slow speed crossing of those tracks, it was a freak accident that his awkward landing may have induced his cardiac arrest.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Mark Hogan.  🙁

Live each day to the fullest. And enjoy the journey.

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