THE LEAD UP

With just one more TransIowa to go, everything took on a new significance with me. The prep, the recon, the loading up of the truck the morning of the event. All of it - just one more time. Even writing this report is weird for me. Since, ya know, there won't be another TransIowa. I won't get all syrupy and whatnot with you. Besides, that would just make a mess out of you and I. No one wants that now, do we?

The load out is always significant here in the house since I have this practice of making a pile of whatever I need to take with me in the front entryway. If it is in the pile it is off my mind and ready to walk out the door with to be loaded into the truck. This practice really works well for me, but Mrs. Guitar Ted? Ah, not so much. She generally makes a snarky remark when I bring up another box or place another tote out there to go into the truck. Once they are gone the tension gets released and things are back to normal, kind of.

The boxes went into the truck and I texted a few of the volunteers to see if the plans they made to meet me in Grinnell were still in place. I thought back to TIV8 when I did everything alone for the most part. Now I had trusted people doing things I used to have to cover myself. Heck, even the recon of the route the day before TransIowa had already been done by Wally. I had intel and time to digest it, but I went down and drove part of the route anyway. I had the time and I wanted my own first-hand viewpoint.

The wind was fierce. Unreal dust was drifting like snow and blowing up into the air constantly. I've never seen the roads in this dry a state at this early of time in the year. How would that affect TransIowa, I wasn't sure. I did have some advice posted on Facebook from Sarah Cooper, who was to be in this event but couldn't, that riders should consider a dust mask or the like. I could certainly get behind that idea after what I saw on Friday. The other obvious thing that would affect TransIowa was the fresher gravel laid down seemingly everywhere. The dust was elevated to epic proportions due to this. More importantly, it was the roughness and slower speeds the chunky gravel would impart upon the riders that would be the most impactful. Wally had driven further into the course on Friday and stated it was slightly worse in this way where he was.

I finally headed over to the pre-race Meat-Up. I met with the Mikes and MG, Tony, Craig, and others. Folks started coming in, and the whole she-bang went off well. The overall vibe was that of excitement amongst the riders assembled. You could feel the good vibes there. It was very different than the year before where everyone felt it was when more than if they were going to bail out. The meeting went well and it was time to get to our motel room to get whatever sleep we could. The chit-chat afterward was that the meeting went well. 95 folks signed on, and with cues being handed out in the morning we had quite a different vibe overall.

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THE EVENT PART I

That thing called sleep is a precious thing. It rehabilitates, resuscitates, and revives. It's a vital part of the cycle of life, but apparently something I never considered to be all that important for TransIowa. To wit: The riders are generally so anxious and tense before a 300+ mile ride to parts unknown that they have trouble getting to sleep, but have to wake up at 2:30 a.m. just to make sure they can get to the start line before the 4 a.m. start. Getting right to the state where you are producing those imaginary z's over your head is paramount to having any chance of performing somewhat coherently the next what, 34 hours without sleep? Wait, what?!

This is something not just relegated to the riders, but to myself and my volunteers as well. I have been found guilty on several occasions of not following my own advice and getting to bed early. There was one year I ate a steak and had a glass of wine at midnight before a TransIowa with Bike to You Craig Cooper, or the many times I sat up late drinking beers with MG or other volunteers. This past TransIowa wasn't going to be like that. I was going to behave and be on target. That sleep plan was going well as I got into bed before 10 p.m., but then all hell broke loose and, well, fail. 

I snore. Loudly. While I was off to a good start, my roommate wasn't digging it. MG went out to his car and was going to crawl into his sleeping bag (apparently he was prepared for me!), and decided that I might freak out if I woke up to find an empty bed next to me. He kindly sent me a text and when the notification came through, loudly, as I don't turn off the sound on TransIowa weekends, I awoke. The patrons of the motel that particular evening handled the rest. Loud televisions, a bouncing rubber ball sound, and more forced me into staying lucid enough to worry about things. Our room clock was off by over an hour forward and at one point I thought it was 2:30 a.m. when it really was barely past 1 a.m. I called MG and woke him up, thinking it was go time. Embarrassed, I tried getting back to sleep. Then MG came in to use the toilet, as he had a sudden movement that needed attention. That was that. Sleep plan in tatters. By this time it was past 2 a.m and we were going to get moving by 2:30 a.m.
 

I guess I was no worse for the wear since I severely limited alcohol consumption at the pre-race Meat-Up. Our overwhelmed waitress also pitched in by forgetting one of our requests. All good. The riders were starting to congregate already when MG and I pulled in. I directed MG to park in the street so we could get the riders lined up properly. A cop car then went by and returned shortly afterward, sidling up to where MG's car was blocking the southbound lane of Broad Street in front of Bikes to You. I approached and the cop leans out of his window and tells me we cannot park like that. I promised to have the car removed, he seemed satisfied and rolled off. Meanwhile Craig Cooper had Bikes to You open for last minute purchases. Riddle me this: At what long distance gravel event can you walk in five minutes before the start to purchase gel packets and walk right back out into the starting grid? Kudos to Craig Cooper. You made this event super unique by doing what you did.
 

Anyway, Dori Jansma, one of my CP1 volunteers who scored lodging just above the start line, had a coffee shop planned for the start. She had a table there with two coffee makers and I availed myself of some morning joe. Thanks, Dori! I love it when people find creative, positive ways to contribute. Especially when I am sleep deprived and that idea involves caffeine! The cue sheet handout process went on. It was a little disjointed, but it happened and we got it done before I thought we would. That was mostly due to the riders being there beforehand, actually ahead of schedule. My admonishments at the pre-race apparently having been taken to heart. Then I had MG move his car back where we had it before.

I guess if I were to ever do another TransIowa, this cue sheet handout process would be handled differently. I have tweaks I would make, but that won't be necessary. Still, I learned a lot once again by trying something new. Just for the record, I really liked the dynamic this added. I wished I had done this years ago. It was generally agreed upon that this change made the riders tackle the first leg like the others. I also found out that it was not uncommon for riders to study maps the evening before and have a strategy laid out. I knew this, as that was what changed the first checkpoint location years ago, but I guess it never dawned on me to eliminate that factor altogether. 
 

We were ready to go. I gave a few last minute admonishments, my usual fatherly advice, and that was that. Now, what many do not know is that it was at this very moment that I had planned on giving the news that this was to be the final TransIowa. Thoughts of how I would drop the bomb were going through my head for months and I had no good answer. Ultimately, it was an email from Sarah Cooper, who was informing me of an injury that was preventing her from being at TIV14, that gave me an idea. She added that there was a "rampant rumor that this will be the last TransIowa". That gave me pause. If it was already a rumor, it was already driving decisions. My confirmation of that fact may have made bad decisions by riders much more likely. I decided to abort that plan and just let the event unfold organically without that added stress.

I sauntered around a few minutes, soaking up the experience, then gave the one minute to go command. I jumped in MG's Subie, checked my phone which showed 4 a.m., MG honked the horn at my command, and we were off. The last TransIowa was finally in motion. I didn't have time to think about that. I would have time to reflect later in the day though.

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THE EVENT PART II

"I don't mean to be a bitch about speed, but try to keep it under 20", I said to MG. This was no less than the third time I asked him to back down the speed for the lead out. He was excited and it is hard to drive that slow. I know from having done this a few times myself. Plus, the spectacle of the lead out of a TransIowa field is not to be missed. We had a seat in the front row to view it, literally, and knowing it was the last TransIowa made it special for both of us. Yes, MG was in on the secret. He was one of three people I had confided in to help me decide this over 10 months prior.

Then the turn on to 37th Street and gravel. We were off now on our own. The fat, nearly full moon graced the Iowa rural landscape in its luminescence. Honestly, I cannot remember talking about much beside the commands to turn this way or that and the conditions of the race which were going to affect the riders. The gravel was dry, very dusty, and loose. Despite that, I figured the event would be fast. MG agreed. We figured riders would start showing up at Hartwick, Iowa, the location of CP1, shortly after 6 a.m. with a guessed at 18mph average speed. There were fast enough guys in the field to do this, for sure. Dan Hughes, the defending race winner, Greg Gleason, Eric Brunt, and Walter Zitz, all former winners, along with Luke Wilson, Corey "Cornbread" Godfrey, and some new hot shots. There was no reason to not believe at that time that the event had a sub-24 hour look to it.
 

The wind from the day before had subsided and the forecast was for light breezes, lots of sun, and comfortable temperatures. It was perfect weather, or so it was seeming to be. The wind factor didn't seem to be one, with the possible exception of Sunday. It was supposed to pick up in intensity all Sunday morning, but that probably would not affect the leaders. The air was dry though. Really dry by Iowa standards. 40% humidity without any wind is no joke and I figured a few people would likely suffer issues related to that throughout the day. The event seemed to have this record number of finishers feel to it at the start. Kind of like TIV12, which saw 42 folks finish. Still, everything has to line up for that to happen. Just having the roads be as sketchy and loose at the beginning as they were was pause to consider that a record finishing rate wasn't going to happen. Plus, my friend Wally had driven out further on Friday on the course and pronounced the roads as being really rough. Hmm. In the meantime, it was just a bumpy ride toward CP1 with MG. Suddenly, the phone sprang to life startling me. It isn't uncommon to have a DNF call this early in the event, but seasoned TransIowa veterans like Jeremy Kershaw usually are not at the the other end of those texts and calls. Unfortunately, it was him, and respiratory problems forced him to abandon. Both MG and I were shocked and saddened, but onward we went.

 

Just before CP1 there was a four-way all B-road intersection. I asked MG to stop and we walked around a bit, just taking it all in. The sound of song birds was in the air, and the hollow where the intersection was gave the rising sun a perfect chance to backlight the rural landscape. It was a calm before the storm moment, since several cyclists would soon be descending upon this spot. We hopped back in the Subie and continued to the checkpoint location. We arrived when a few of the other volunteers pulled up. The invasion of Hartwick, Iowa, had commenced! Dennis and Christina Grelk were already there. Mike Baggio, Jess Rundlett, Dori Jansma, Todd Southworth, and Julie Fisher rolled in. Last but not least, Patrice Parsons joined us. We all chatted, laughed, and made prognostications about the day's events. Then the cows kicked in.

Hartwick is not very big. It is a village, maybe five or six blocks for the entire place, and seemingly surrounded by herds of cows. Cows that were not happy. Not by the evidence of their melodious bellering which filled the air. Despite our hi jinx and the loud sounds emanating from the bovine residents of Hartwick, we were alone out there in the street. Perhaps the invasion of outsiders was so alarming we frightened the few residents of Hartwick away into hiding behind curtains and blinds, or perhaps they just couldn't have cared less.

As 6 a.m. passed we strained our eyes southward down the main street of Hartwick looking for any signs of riders up. 6:15 went by and still nothing. Puzzled looks at 6:30 a.m. and we were still waiting. Maybe this was a harder day than any of us imagined. Finally, at about ten minutes to 7, riders appeared. About nine strong, this group included Greg Gleason, Luke Wilson, Dan Hughes, and Walter Zitz. The usual suspects. Then, something surprising happened. Dan Hughes stated he was waiting for his girlfriend who was also in the event. He poked fun or made some comment which elicited a terse comeback from Gleason. Then the sneaky Eric Brunt tried a surprise escape and bolted on out of the checkpoint. Hughes bellowed that the chasers better get going, and the small group of riders was off again, with Nick Legan bringing up the rear. Dan made some small talk with us and then we bade him farewell. MG and I hopped back into the Subie in hot pursuit of the lead group in the bright morning sun.

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THE EVENT PART III

We left CP1 and passed the lead group shortly afterward. Then we were simply out on our own. The route actually went closer to Grinnell again before turning North then Eastward along the Tama/Powesheik County line toward a Level B Road I always have liked.

The day was now warming up nicely from the chill of dawn. The Sun rode up high into the sky and the breezes were light. The countryside was strangely quiet. I felt as though a peace was over the lands of Eastern Powesheik County. Where were the farmers I was warning the riders about? Only a lone Ag-Gator spraying a field was seen to break the idyllic scenery of that morning.

MG and I were chatting about life, love, and the pursuit of gravelly happiness. We came upon that Level B road I mentioned and it did not disappoint. Although it was easily traversed, due to the Summer-like conditions, it was still beautiful in that rustic, pre-automobile era way that only certain Level B roads can impart. One could easily imagine running a team of horses pulling a heavy farm wagon through the slot cut into the Earth here.
 

Near the end of that mile of beautiful Iowa dirt road we stopped by a grove of trees to have a "nature break" and we fell to chatting about "The End". You know, the end of TransIowa? MG wanted to express his feelings and in that moment the tears flowed. I don't mind saying that it was a special moment between two great friends.

The whole weekend was about "soaking it in" for me. I mean, I knew it was the last time for all of this stuff. The good and the bad. The hanging out wasn't something I ever relished enough in years past. I was always feeling a bit guilty because I felt responsible for the outcomes associated with the event. This last time I relaxed about that and tried to just "be", if that makes any sense. If there was one take-away from the entire weekend for me it was this- I should have done this years ago. Worrying never got anything accomplished. Not that I shouldn't "care" about things. But caring and worrying are not the same thing. Wish I could have discerned that a little earlier. There were a few things that happened later which brought this home for me, but that will come in the next post.
 

Anyway, it was a special time there at the end of that unknown dirt road in the middle of nowhere. It may have not been a special place to anyone else, but to me and MG it was now sacred ground. Something I'll always cherish. But good times must end, just like this event would, so we gathered it back up and moved on. Not before a huge semi-tractor trailer rig went by us and baptized us in a thin layer of dirt though. Somehow that seemed appropriate.

We wound our way down into Iowa County and on some narrow, almost farm lane-like roads. This would take us near to Marengo, and we dropped South of Highway 6 into some wild territory. The turns came quick so navigation was the theme of this stretch. That was until we came upon the bit of road that has a "Road Closed" sign at the intersection.

This was the first "navigational challenge" of TransIowa v14. Everyone passed this test, at least I think so. I never heard anyone say it threw them for a loop, but adventure bicyclists generally don't let "Road Closed" signs rattle them. The road was well maintained right up to where a short, chip seal covered steel bridge jumped over a typical creek. I was pretty excited to show it to MG, who also likes finding stuff like this that cyclists can utilize out in the country. As we approached MG spied Tony's Ford truck parked on the other side of the bridge. We would see those guys then and maybe hang out a bit on the bridge.
 

Sure enough, Tony and Mike emerged from the Ford and strode up to the bridge from the South as MG and I met them from the North. We chatted about things we had seen and had heard so far into the event. Then, "Hey, want a beer?", and then more conversation ensued. Again, it was a fun time.I'm sure the farmer who was doing field work there was wondering what the heck the conflab was all about. We weren't causing any trouble though, and with farm work pressing in, and time being short, I am sure that farmer wasn't going to stop to question our motives.
 

Suddenly we saw a cyclist. It was Luke Wilson, solo! What? We were surprised and stoked to see this. Luke has been in other TransIowa events and is well liked by almost everyone I know that is aware of him. He's just is generally a good dude and you want to pull for him. His humble yet powerful style of cycling commands respect and admiration. So, we were pretty happy to see this development. We stuck around, marveling at this new development until the chase group showed up about twelve minutes later. Okay then! This was a big deal now.

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THE EVENT PART IV

With the action up front in the event having passed through the bridge we were hanging out on it was time to get a move on. Tony and Mike had corners to mark and we had to keep ahead of the riders.

The day was now full-on warm and summer-like. Not too crazy as far as heat, but t-shirt weather for sure. We noted breezes, strong ones, in spots, but then at other places it would be calm. Weird.

Then we started getting fairly regular DNF calls. Several were from folks reaching CP1 too late. Then an alarming set of crashes were reported. Nothing super serious, but alarming none the less. One fellow crashed so hard he broke off his saddle and brake lever but said "...miraculously I'm okay." MG and I pondered this and we really had no solid answer as to what might be going on here. TransIowa isn't an event where you typically see crashes, but they have happened from time to time.

We ended up over taking the leaders coming South on L Avenue North of North English. If you want to experience some tough hills, go there! I've used that section of road in TransIowa several times. In fact, I mentioned to MG that a famous image of him riding these hills happened back in v10. He was thrilled to see that same section again. Ahh...memories! 
 

 It was in this section we found Greg Gleason floundering off the back. We ran up alongside of him and he said he was in "survival mode". Later on we heard that others who had been riding with him earlier were feeling he wasn't breathing well. Whatever it was, MG and I were a bit bummed for him. Meanwhile Walter and Stefano Tomaselli were chasing Luke Wilson who had about 20 minutes on the chasers by this point. Some ways back behind Greg was Mathew Kutilek who had been riding on his own for some time since leaving CP1.

Along about this time, noon or after, I believe, more DNF calls started up. The most alarming one was news of Kate Ankofski's crash which had apparently rendered her unconscious, according to reports from the riders. My volunteers, John and Celeste Mathias, were dispatched to fetch Kate while Warren Wiebe and Keisuke Inoue stayed with her till help arrived. Kate was observed, treated, and released at the hospital with bruises and a clean bill of health as far as concussions go.

Simultaneously, as I was gathering info on Kate's case, I was contacted by a mysterious person not in TransIowa, but claiming her Labrador was drawn off by cyclists and that the dog was missing. I was a bit befuddled as to just how that was an issue I needed to deal with, but I sent along images of the route cues for this person's area so they could search for the dog. Ultimately, who knows where the dog really went, and I never heard whether or not anything came of that.
 

Then MG was saying something about not turning, but going straight instead while my head was down recording information. I called for a stop and it was obvious to my eyes that we were off course here. We went back to the last corner and looked at the signage, but it didn't jive with the cues. I knew the cues were correct, but what gives?! After further investigation, it became apparent that the sign was removed from its sleeved base, turned 90°, and replaced. By design or by default, I know not, but it was off. Great!

I called in Mike and Steve to mark it with stakes, hoping riders would see those and make the correct turn. I never heard whether that tripped anyone up, so it must have been mostly effective. Meanwhile, after the corner was staked out, a driver pulled up to ask if we were okay. That was kind, and I figured that was that, but then the guy gets out of his car and starts hawking the local Amish shops, almost as if he were a salesman for them. He was carrying on a little longer than was comfortable, but finally he got back in his car and went along his way. Weird!

But that wasn't all! Oh no! Luke Wilson had passed by and not long afterward he called me with a report that the road out of the next town was "torn up". What!? I asked Luke, "Does it look like you could get through?", to which he replied, yes, he was sure he could. Then I asked, "Are there any workers around?", to which he replied that there were none he could see, so I told him to go for it. We came over and witnessed him coming through, and we stayed long enough to find that Walter, Stefano, and now Greg Gleason (?!) were chasing yet. They got through fine, so we left that and moved along. We did note that Luke Wilson had extended his lead by this point to about an hour!
 

With these navigational challenges addressed, which were totally unexpected, we moved on from the mid-afternoon drama into an area that presented what we knew would be the biggest mind bender of them all.

Over the weekend I am posting the next "Minus Ten Review" and another edition of "The Touring Series". Look for this tale to be taken back up on Monday. That next post in my TransIowa v14 report will be called "Left On 120th "

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THE EVENT PART V

TransIowa is not just a long distance ride with timed sections one must reach. It is a lot more than that. To me, one of the facets that figures into the TransIowa experience is navigation. Decision making also is of utmost importance in this event as well. So, it is a mental challenge on top of the rest of it. I've always paid attention to this aspect of the event.

One thing presented itself with regard to this course which I found particularly delicious. A mental snag which, if the rider was paying attention to the cue sheets, would be navigated through with no issues. I've been laser focused on having exact cues to follow since T.I.v7, and I know without a doubt that TransIowa cues are some of the best written in the business. So, the cues were correct at the spot that threw a wrench into many rider's day. Despite what some may have thought later...

Without getting into a detailed and boring dissection of the situation, suffice it to say that the "Left on 120th" was a pitfall many fell into Saturday. The cues read that you needed to "BR On Keokuk/Washington Rd." before you turned left on 120th. Because there were TWO LEFTS one could make on 120th, one which occurred BEFORE you bore right on Keokuk/Washington Road. That cue - BR On Keokuk/Washington Rd. -  was of paramount importance. The mileages were spot on for these as well. So, if you did make the mistake of taking the first left, you ended up a mile down the road at a strange intersection. Now...most riders figured the conundrum out at this point. They went back, found the correct left on 120th, and were good to go. But a few did not...

Before I get to that though there was more hang out time to tell you about! Tony, realizing that the whole 120th deal was probably going to trip a few folks up, found a place to park for a time which was just down from the intersection in question at the English River Wildlife Preserve. Anyone who figured it out, either eventually or right away, would go right by us. The four of us relaxed in the afternoon Sun, drinking a few cold ones, sharing stories, and just having a great time. Suddenly the phone lit up and it was Luke again. He was asking about the cues for, well...you know where. I chose my words carefully, because the question was whether the cue sheet was wrong. I asked Luke if he could verify that his cues said "bear right on..." and he said that it was there. I told him to think if he had done that, and then the light bulb went off. We hung up and not much later, there went Luke. Next up should have been the three chasers, but after over an hour went by, here came Mathew Kutilek. Hmm... Time to spring into action.

 

Tony and Mike went straight to CP2, but MG and I followed the route. We passed Mathew again, but no one else was found up the road. We reached CP2 to learn that Wilson and Gleason, Tomasello, and Zitz had went through. Apparently, the chasers were now only eight minutes behind Wilson. 

We didn't stick around to enjoy the scene at CP2, unfortunately, because it looked like a lot of fun. There was a small fire going, beer, people having a good time, and all that. Unfortunately I had to address a situation that I had rather not have had to address. Three riders cut the course. So, MG and I headed out. Tony and Mike were already way ahead of us looking for the three miscreants.

This wasn't the first time something like this happened, but it was a long time ago since the last time I was aware that it had. In fact, you have to go all the way back to TIV1 for that incident.

Back then, there was no one else out on the course but me. I was at the end of my rope, since, you know, staying up all night wasn't in my tool box at the time. I was having a really hard time at a "checkpoint" I set up just on the north side of Cresco, Iowa.

I was supposed to watch for the riders as they came through and warn the finish line volunteer for the Decorah Time Trials, whose finish line we were sharing. I saw Alex Dolpp go by, who was the leader, but when the finish was tallied up, Ira Ryan was first with Brian Hannon second and Alex Dolpp ended up third. What? Did I fall asleep and miss Hannon and Ryan? About six months later I found Ira Ryan's race report and it became apparent that after getting off course in the middle of the night, Hannon and Ryan cut the course to get back on track, effectively leap frogging Dolpp in the process.

But it was what it was. If you cannot call the foul during the game, it is too late.

This time it wasn't too late. We knew Gleason, Zitz, and Tomasello hadn't suddenly put on the afterburners and made up an hour on Wilson. We also knew that they had not passed by the spot where we were watching. We couldn't watch every rider, but we were watching when the three riders that didn't go by us should have gone by us. There was nothing we could do but to confront them on the road and tell them they were DQ'ed.
 

Tony and Mike caught up with the three first. They broke the news. We came up just a bit later on the three and Tony and Mike on a hill Southeast of Montezuma. The three riders took the news about as well as you could, I guess. Walter was determined to ride out the course, and asked if that was okay. I affirmed him it was, he wasn't going to be scored though. He shrugged and turned up the road to the West. Tomasello followed, but I don't know that he actually rode the entire course, as Walter did. I saw Stefano at the finish line and we chatted though. Gleason disappeared. I never saw him again the rest of the weekend.
 

I felt sad. Sad that this happened, but I didn't place any blame. None of us did. What actually happened amongst those three riders which precipitated the decision they made is only a story they know. I'm not really interested in the full story, to be honest. It is what it is.

We still had an event happening and after this situation was dealt with we were left with a single rider with over an hour lead on then second place Mathew Kutilek. But there was 100 plus miles to go, a night and a morning of riding ahead, and anything could happen.

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THE EVENT PART VI

The Sun had set on an eventful day of TransIowa. MG and I found ourselves bumping down the last few miles to the final town on the course, Montezuma. It was chosen since it had a 24 hour Casey's which riders could avail themselves of no matter when they got there Saturday night or Sunday morning.

We needed to get gas and when we pulled up we found Tony and Mike there finishing up what was supper. Since MG and I had been on a diet of pizza for breakfast and lunch, we decided to finish it off with a Casey's slice o' pie. As we munched and chatted here came in Luke Wilson, shivering in the now plummeting temperatures. The dry air and dying winds doubled up for an intense drop in temperature which would dive well below freezing during the overnight hours.

At this point Luke was still a bit rattled by the sudden appearance of the three chasers at CP2. He still hadn't quite got it out of his mind that he was being hounded by them. We informed him that the reason they were so close at CP2 was that the chasers missed the same corner he called us about and that the three had cut the course there. Luke took that in and then relaxed a bit, taking care of his needs for the last 100 miles.
 

We took leave of Luke and Tony and Mike here and went about our business. We wound our way Southwest of the city, then North, then West until we crossed Highway 146 directly South of Grinnell. It was about at this point that I noted MG had the "thousand yard stare" and he wasn't going to make it to Grinnell without some shut eye. I suggested we find a place to allow him to catch a few winks and we found a turn in to a farm field just West of 146 and pulled in. I grabbed my book and phone as the DNF's were piling up now. It was shortly before 11 p.m., CP2 was about to close, and a lot of riders were figuring out they weren't going to make it on time.

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I was taking calls, trying not to shine the flashlight app on my phone in MG's direction, and being as quiet between calls as I could be. If you have never stood outside in Iowa in the middle of nowhere, with almost no wind, at night, there is a level of quiet that you do not know.  It was serene. Then, as if on cue, with the full moon riding up over a grove of trees, a Barred Owl hooted- "who cooks for you-who cooks for YOUUUU...". The sound echoed into the night. It sent shivers down my spine. Then an answering hoot from further away. It was scary, magical, and made me feel alive. I loved it.

Then I heard the distinctive sound of car tires on gravel. Faintly at first, but then it grew louder. I figured a lone figure sauntering around near a parked car might elicit a confrontation that I may not want to have. So I quickly moved over to the Subie, crouched down near the rear wheel, and made myself still. Just as the car was coming the phone lit up with a call. Great! I answered and the car went roaring by, with no sign of slowing down. Good! I stayed completely still until the car disappeared over the next hill.

Not long afterward MG appeared out of the car refreshed enough that we went along about our business. We came across Tony and Mike parked off the road about 50 miles from the finish line, but we didn't want to wake them up. We pushed onward and ended up on the last Level B road on the course. I told MG to park. We grabbed two beers and toasted to the end of the road for TransIowa. I stared around, trying to feel all the feels I could. I would never be on this "mission" again. Eventually we were freezing, as it reached a recorded 23 degrees in places that evening. MG and I jumped in the Subie and rolled into Grinnell shortly before 3 a.m.

I got my truck and rolled into the parking lot at Miller Park where MG was already sleeping. I sat, freezing to death for a few minutes, then two other cars rolled up. One had Luke Wilson's girlfriend, Sonya, in it. I told them they were too excited. Luke wouldn't be back in Grinnell until well after Sunrise, so they took off for a bit, but later Sonya came back and slept in her car. I fought off sleep demons and intermittently fired up the truck to get heat in the cab. Then I heard it again...

The cold, lonesome call of the owl. Morning was coming, and TransIowa was ending.

 

THE EVENT PART VII

Hanging out in a non-descript municipal park's parking lot, looking rather suspiciously drunk since your head is bobbing, heavy with sleep, is generally a recipe for a tap on the window from a local law enforcement person. This was just par for the course at any given TransIowa finish line for me. I wasn't alone though. I had good company. MG was next to me in his Subie and Sonya, waiting on Luke's imminent arrival, was to my left. Still, it probably looked rather suspicious to the casual observer.

As the day dawned we got more solid information on Luke's arrival time. I thought originally he might be there between six and seven o'clock in the morning, but the final miles must have been brutal. I know it was very cold. I know it was very hilly! Then we pushed back that timing until after seven. But in the end he arrived at ten minutes to nine!

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. This was, by far, the longest TransIowa ever. Most riders completing the course clocked in nearly 350 miles before they finished. A few "bonus miles" weren't uncommon due to navigational errors. Add in the fresh gravel covering, in my estimation, 80% of the course, the wind, the extreme cold, and you have a TransIowa that ranks right up there with the toughest ever.

 

The final TransIowa winner, Luke Wilson gets a hand shake from me. Image by Jon Duke

In the meantime, after Luke's arrival, I tried to tally up who was in and who was out. There were several people still struggling to make it through to the end. When Luke finished I think we were still in the high twenties for rider numbers. But the kicker was that as the Sun rose up in the Eastern sky, so did the wind speeds. The course featured a long, Eastward push to nearly the end, and the wind was contrary here. Riders coming in later would face nearly 20mph headwinds while Luke faced a mere breeze.
 

Probably the biggest surprise was that Mark Johnson pulled off a second place overall and first place SS/Fixed gear class win after not being on the radar up front nearly the entire event. But Mark somehow finds himself in the top ten at TransIowa no matter what if it is even possible to finish.

Last year he was the only single speeder to finish and that in horrendous conditions. This guy is tough as nails and a great cyclist.

I was also impressed with Mathew Kutilek's third place overall. Many may not realize this man has a back story which would make you drop your jaw in amazement. Basically, he was wounded severely as a Marine and probably should have died, or at least lost one of his legs. But somehow here he is pedaling to a well deserved third place TransIowa finish. He was cold, shivering, and spent as he finished. He said later that it was only the second time he has been this close to Death. Hyperbole? Maybe. You'll have to ask Mathew. At any rate, I couldn't be prouder or more honored to have had him in the event.

Finally, in a storybook way, Janna Vavra finished in first place in the women's open category. But that doesn't tell the story here. She was the very first female to ever finish a TransIowa, one of only five females to ever complete a TransIowa, and the only woman finisher out of 21 women that started TransIowa v14. All that through a nagging knee issue which she pushed through to get her finish. For this, she was granted the "Grittiest Ride" which comes with the prize of a Black Mountain Cycles frame and fork of her choice. Again...wow! I couldn't be happier about how this turned out. Definitely a super cool way to cap off the last TransIowa ever.
 

The finish line scene got a little hectic there for a bit with pairs of riders coming in within a half an hour or less of each other for about an hour and a half. But then it dwindled to a trickle. Janna finished at 12:50, then Jason Shearer came in twelve minutes later, and Ben Mullin pulled in fifteen minutes after that. This would conclude the finish line welcoming for me.
 

I noted that people were hanging out in the Sun, lounging in the grass, and generally enjoying the unfolding scene. It took me back to TIV3 when the scene was similar. I remembered that day and the joy I felt in just watching so many finishers and support people filled with joy at the end of a long, grueling event. It was something pretty special then, and it still was in 2018. Craig Cooper, of Bikes To You, looked at me and smiled. He said, "You've really created something special here." Man...that was hard to hear, in a way, knowing this was it.

Will Ritchie showed up with a box of coffee. I never saw such a thing in my life, but man! Was that a lifesaver! Will's offering of coffee woke me right up and kept the batteries charged enough that I was alert and attentive right up to the bitter end. Jess Rundlett, whose Tweet I quoted at the Pre-Race, was also hanging out there along with Scott Sumpter, whose attempt at a fat bike finish wasn't successful.

I chatted with Will for quite some time, but eventually 2 p.m. came around and it was time to get out of there. I noted that I hadn't seen one drop of alcohol consumed at the finish line. How strange was that?! Since that was the case, I purposed to raise a toast with a can of Dale's Pale Ale in my truck. That done, I fired up the "Truck With No Name" and slowly rolled out of Miller Park.

I guess I didn't really know what to expect at this moment. Would I be relieved? Would I be sad and cry? I didn't know. But oddly enough, I just drove away like it was the end of any other TransIowa I've ever done. And maybe that's the best way it could have been. That's the end of my last TransIowa report ever. I will have some closing thoughts in tomorrow's post. Thank you for indulging me this opportunity to tell the story.

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THE AFTERMATH

As I sit here well after the event has finished I have several thoughts. First, I think the event was a success, although some may point to the 120th thing and say that wasn't perfect. I get that some folks are not happy about it, but I have also heard from others who got it and made it work. In the end, it wasn't an easy set of cues to navigate, but then again, it wasn't meant to be "easy", was it?

And in the end, you can say that about the entire event. It looked as if it might be an easy year, but that was deceptive. It certainly was anything but easy and it turned out that it was very difficult. All the factors that make up a tough TransIowa were there with the exception of rain and mud. They weren't missed, by the way.

The event had 19 finishers. Probably about average for TransIowas. This was good. It certainly could have had more finishers, but circumstances must have kept more than a few from reaching the end. I noted several DNF's at CP2 between 9 p.m. and 10 p.m., which, on the surface of it, seems odd. But that's just me looking in from the outside. What reality was, for each person, I cannot say.

So, in my view, the event was a success. Everyone was accounted for. The injured Kate Ankofski is back riding already. I was so happy to hear that she was not seriously injured. You all know how the specter of that possibility- that someone would get seriously injured- has haunted me. Keeping the news back that this was the last TransIowa was the right move. In fact, it was a difficult move. I've known this would be the last TransIowa for at least ten months! But saying anything ahead of time would have been bad. I feared that this knowledge would have had a detrimental effect on decision making, and after reading a few social media posts after the event, I think I was correct. So that was a success.

I have some other thoughts about the legacy of the event that I have timed for release tomorrow. You can read all about that there. However; all I wanted to share now was a bit of an anecdote. It has to do with the beginning and the end of this event.
 

The first two TransIowas didn't really have any finish line activities. The first was a line shared with the Decorah Time Trials and due to my having to sit in Cresco till all the finishing riders went by, I was never there to see Ira Ryan finish. TIV2 was unfinishable, and so there was no finish line. Ironically, the first winner's hand shake went to the very same Ira Ryan that won TIV1.

Ira cursed me, as I shook his hand, and the difficult course. It was a bit of a surprise reaction, in my view, and I was taken aback. His entourage that wrapped him in a blanket and helped him away was unfriendly and looked at me with venomous eyes. Certainly, if I had that sort of reaction more often, well, that would have been it from my standpoint. Why sit around and be cursed and looked at with disdain, just to run a free event?

Obviously, the rest of that day at TIV3 went a lot better. And I had no other finish line interactions like that again. Fortunately, the TransIowa finish line hand shakes ended on an up-note. It was made all the better by the fact that Luke Wilson is an engaging, kind man who seems very genuinely happy to have been the winner of TransIowa. The others that finished that day were also very grateful. Even if there were concerns, as Mark Johnson had, there was still the genuine joy in finishing and thankful attitude toward myself and the volunteers. Janna Vavra was gracious and kind as she took the last Open Women's title. No maledictions given at this finish line this time!

In a way, the TIV3 thing was kind of a window on how the event had potential, but there were a lot of things that needed weeding out. The last TransIowa finish line was what it always was meant to be. Nothing needed taking away, nothing needed to be added. The winners reflected this as well. The rest of the finishers reflected this. It was beautiful outside, so even the weather was great. People were hanging out, laughing, talking.

I was left after the event with much satisfaction. I don't think TransIowa could have ended, as a series of events, any better than it did.