Wild Windy Weekend

I rode Trans Iowa this weekend. Of the 350 miles scheduled, I rode about 85. Throw in some backtracking and the ride back to the car and I ended up around 120 miles. It took about 12 hours. I am thoroughly proud of that.

If you read some of the reports either here or here, you will have a tiny idea of how rough it was out there. If you have ridden it before, I understand why you came back. That was some of the most difficult times I have ever experienced on a bike. And I am hoping I am able to go again next year.

My good friend Ken mentioned doing this race last year while we were out on a really nice leisurely ride. I don't know why, but the idea of signing up stuck with me all the way until I was actually on the list. At a 100 rider cap, I knew I could not back out. On Friday, it took about everything I had not to do so. Bundle of nerves isn't enough. Bound in knots, not even close. As people were packing, repacking, and repacking, I sat in a chair thinking of all the riding I should have done, all the clothes and food I should have packed. People seemed to be concerned that I didn't have anything to do. The chaps from Tennessee were gracious enough to let us crash on their hotel floor. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I managed to catch a couple minutes of sleep.

4 AM is a tough start time. Having to deal with that wind, and those temps, for that long is insane. Thankfully, once we started riding, the nerves melted away. It was slow going, but very nice to be doing something. I was riding with some extremely talented athletes. Everyone looked like it was no big deal. This is how TI is. There was nothing we could do about it. Just ride a pace that we thought we could hold for 30+ hours. It's one of the things I really like about riding with Ken, and why I thought this would be a fun event. We have a very similar pace and even though he is a much stronger rider than I, we can ride together for quite a while. (I was going to be happy to keep up with him for about 6 or 8 hours)

We stopped for breakfast around 40 miles and 3 hours after the start. It was a great little cafe where we explained to some locals about why all the bikes were cruising by. One woman came up behind me, put her hand on my forehead and announced "he doesn't have a fever". Sometimes it is hard to explain why you do something. I am so thankful Ken suggested sitting down for breakfast. I have a tendency to not listen to what my body is telling me. My toes were starting to get frostbite and warming them up was vital. I am not sure what would have happened if I hadn't done that and donned shoe covers there.

Back on the route (after lubing my chain) I started to feel better (I forget how much lube can help). Even when we missed a turn, missed the reroute, and ended up with about 10 extra miles, I still had a great mental attitude. I can't explain it. I am usually depressed and frustrated when battling wind. And I have never battled wind that strong and for as long as that. As we rode, Ken was expressing some frustration that I thought should have been coming from me. That got me worried. I know him as solid, and to see a seam in that armor... was unsettling. I didn't have to worry about that too long as we did some calculations mid morning and started the acceptance that making the first checkpoint was not going to happen. We had 25 miles to make in a little over 2 hours and we knew we couldn't do it. That is a humbling experience. OK, we could have pushed our bodies beyond and made it, and then what. We would have been further from our car, and not had the energy to make it to the next checkpoint in time, in which case could have had us even further from the car. Often times the right decisions are the hardest to make.

We ate lunch and decided to head straight back. 30 miles to the car. The wind was mostly from the other side now which has helped the soreness in my muscles be even. It was a struggle to hold the bike upright. We were laughing many times at how far over I leaned especially to keep on the road. We didn't laugh too much when we were headed directly into the wind, pedaling as hard as we could to make a blistering 6 mph. That had to have been the hardest 5 miles of my life. It took us around 45 minutes.

Just to make sure we didn't think we were getting off too easy, there were a couple final hills leading into Decorah. At that point, my stomach was starting to come undone and if I didn't know we were so close, they might have gotten the better of me. Fortunately, it was only a couple of miles to the van where we packed up and headed straight home. I did feel a little bad about taking off so quickly, but at that point we had no idea there were only 5 riders left racing and they were going to cut the race short.

When I arrived home, I was telling my wife about what I experienced. My wife and I are totally suited for each other. She questions what I do, but only from a "are you going to be safe?" point of view. When I described what happened she immediately said, "I think you should do it again next year". Totally unprompted. I am the luckiest.