At 4 am Saturday morning, my friend Grazhopper and 80 other sleepy eyed but adrenaline fueled riders began the TranIowa Ride. The TransIowa Mountain Bike Race is a non-stop, self-supported, solo competition along the gravel roads of rural Iowa. Starting and finishing in Decorah the 325 mile route was broken down into about two dozen cue sheets. Riders were give the first set of cue sheets (for the first 130 miles) at the beginning of the race and after finishing that distance are given the second set of cue sheets with the rest of miles. Riders had 34 hours to reach the finish line or face disqualification.
The front pack quickly surged up the steep hill at the starting line and that was the last we would see of them. Bike blinkers could be seen scattered for miles on the dusty roads before dawn broke. The first few hours of navigation was as easy as following the bike lights in front of us. In my opinion the hills of Decorah are the best that Iowa has to offer, in the start of the ride we climbed up long steep hills and then roared down them like a bumpy out of control rollercoaster. Soon the lights on the bike were replaced by daylight and we were able to view the beautiful rural area that we were traveling thru. Grazhopper and I held a steady 16 mph for the first couple hours - We knew the the first hundred miles would be the easiest. The 2nd hundred would probably kind of suck. And the third? We didnt know, we had never gone that far before.After 45 miles I noticed that Graz wasnt smiling and wasn't laughing at my jokes so much.
"Why don't you bike ahead of me for a while - I need to throw up" - He said in a calm tone - I biked ahead and noticed from over my shoulder him throwing up for the next 5 miles. Now Graz is one bad ass dude and if he even hints that he is feeling uncomfortable, I imagine that he is on the brink of death. About a quarter mile from the first town he actually got off his bike and sat down for a few seconds. Yes, it didnt look good. We reached the convenience store and it was evident that in his condition there was no way that he would reach the first 130 mile check point in the time limit, or finish the rest of the route. It was tragic seeing his stomach get the best of him (we think that it may be because of the 3:30 am salami sandwich *see photo above) - He had driven all the way to portland to be here and now he had to throw in the towel. I bought him a gatorade, scavenged his bike for parts and continued on.
The weather was perfect that day. Mid-70's, Sunny and a good wind. The next80 miles I kept a steady social pace and conversed with riders as we passed each other. About half the riders rode single speed bikes, one of the finishers even road a fixed gear entire way. Humbling to say the least. On a distance rides of this nature, I have learned that there is so much importance of staying well hydrated and eating as often as possible. Every gas station or deli the route traveled by (not very many) I made sure to eat plenty.I reached the 1st and only check point around 4 pm - I was given my second sheet of navigational directions. After a nice stretch on the Cedar Valley nature trail it was back to the Iowa hills and some awesome level B roads. Although that first checkpoint was only 130 miles into the ride, it would be the last time that I would see another biker rider (besides a half dozen that were in the process of dropping out) for the rest of the entire race. 200 miles solo ahead.
2 am I encountered my personal obstacle course. On a 5 miles stretch of road I got my first flat tire - After replacing the tube with the spare - I noticed the the spare tube had a faulty valve and didnt hold air. I realized that I forgot my patch kit and was on my last spare tube. Better hold. Then I couldn't find my turn off of the road that I was on. My odometer was miscalculated to the distances on the cue sheets and I couldnt find the road that I was to turn onto. I hammered back a 3-4 miles back up the road without luck - Actually very bad luck. Because after hearing a pop I realized that my chain was lying broken in the road behind me. Crap. Now, I was getting frustrated. I dropped a link in the chain and put it back on the bike. Wait...I realized that I forgot to loop the chain through the derailer. Thats not going to work. I popped out another pin and took off the chain again. For the next 5-10 minutes (felt like forever) I struggled to remember how to loop the chain through the derailer and reconnect it to the bike. I have done this plenty of times successfully in the past. But I could not remember or figure it out as I sat on that gravel road that morning. Finally, it came to me. The chain was reconnected and the bike was rolling down the hill. I finally was able to get on the right road. It was 3:15 am. The cut off as 2 pm - Would I have time to complete the remaining 130 miles? At that I decided to reset my distance odometer after every cue point. And focus on the ride one turn at a time (1-8 mile stretches). I knew that I had to ride hard to make it in time. I set my mind that I would make it in time.
In the next couple hours there were two closed roads were flooded with some really deep water. I actually feel off the bike and into the water on one of them. It was so much fun. Morning came...miles and miles past... hours past...just kept on staying focused on the goal. I was making some great time. The roads became rolling hills, there was a great tail wind. My legs and body were feeling great. Things were really going my way. Fantastic!
I knew that I had plenty of time to complete the 185 miles that were on the second set of cue sheets - Just one more page of cue sheets before the finish - Time was 12:45 pm on Sunday - I finally turned the page for my last page of mileage - Now I remembered the the second set of cue sheets from my initial glance coming in at 185 miles which was only 10 miles to go. Ten miles in 1 hour 15 minutes. No problem. Even if there were some killer hills at the end I would be fine. I turned the page for the final sheet - 195 miles was the total distance. Holy crap, I had another 10 miles ontop of the 10 miles I thought. Double the distance in the same amount of time. Even though the legs were turning to putty, I was able to hold 20 miles an hour for the last hour. The last half mile was a steep hill that I dismounted and walked 3/4 up. When I saw the finish line, I jumped back on the bike to give the the illusion that I had actually biked up. 15 minutes to cut off, I received a great welcome from the volunteers as they cheered my in. 325 miles - 33 hour 45 minutes.
I have never been so happy to be the last place finisher at a race. 21 finishers total. I even won two six packs of microbrew beer for my efforts. It made it all worthwhile.
