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 that I could watch him fix her flat. (I offered to help, but three people on a flat are two too many.)
It was another hot day (100+ degrees – 37 ℃) 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.
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 to be 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 and then enjoyed the water.
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 my tent, 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. We had ridden together previously at the Livestrong Challenge – Philly.
After a catered dinner ($9) at the site arranged by Brancel Charters, I went swimming in the Iowa River. The water seemed bathwater warm, and it wasn’t very refreshing. Plus, small fish were nibbling at me.
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 was 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 my fear was that 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.
I forgot to reset the Garmin after the ride, so it included the first 59 miles of the next day’s ride. When I caught it I reset and then had to parse the mileage into two files.
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*It’s not. Marshalltown is at 942′. The highest point is 1600′.
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