Day 19 – July 5th

Our cyclist adventure today began in Blaire, Nebraska a little after 6:30 am and within only a couple of miles we had left yet another state behind and were rolling into Iowa prairie. The first few miles of the ride were iron-board flat and we made great time in flying over those empty roads. At 10 miles in, however, we began to climb the first of a long, long series of rolling hills. Soon my world consisted simply of pedaling up a hill, down the hill, up a hill down the hill. I found myself stuck in a sick Hollywood film in which I lived in a world of never ending cycle roller coasters; in reality it only lasted for the next 90 miles but at the time I thought an eternity had elapsed. It was exhausting dealing with the constant motion; almost like an angry sea that lifts and drops a boat; only it was on land. I would huff and puff my way up a hill, cranking with as much power as I could muster, only to gain the summit and see three or more hills in the distance coming straight at me. The site was anything but encouraging to my fatigued body and mind.

As the day progressed Gary and I found ourselves separating often due to the fact that we have different climbing and descending cadences. For much of the day I was an isolated cyclist, with nothing but a trusty support vehicle keeping me connected to humanity and the small shred of sanity I had remaining. Much of my morning and afternoon was spent on a lonely, bumpy road, spinning at a decent revolution, all the while defending myself from the territorial red winged blackbirds. Every couple of hundred yards I would wheel into another bird’s territory and apparently they deemed it necessary to flutter overhead and scold me for my un-welcomed violation of their land. The little black buggers were hostile no matter how sweetly I talked to them; though I tried to coo them for hours with niceties. Soon after my failed attempts at diplomacy I found myself fantasizing about a Browning 12 gauge and a few latent shells. I have a sneaking suspicion that would have altered their attitudes and their assessment of me and my Trek.

The scenery along the route today consisted mostly of those golden kernelled homing beacons, growing row upon row, and scattered pasture; intermingled amongst this landscape was the occasional cash crop. The one picture that stands out most in my mind may ultimately be a delusion; as neither Gary nor Bob witnessed it. At one point in the ride, when the head/cross wind was really starting to pick up, I peaked a long climb and as I prepared my body for its well deserved descent I caught a sight of something both Patriotic and Iowan. Standing tire to tire, lined up in a horizontal row facing the highway, proudly sat four generations of tractors; all waving the American flag. The oldest of the tractors was the smallest, and as their age decreased their size increased. The really great thing was that the flags were all sticking straight out as the wind buffeted into them. I couldn’t help but smile at this farmer’s rendition of patriotism. Those four dormant machines each had a story to tell about the men and women they helped to turn these fallow grounds into prosperous land for a growing nation. It was the essence of what this country stands for.

Another sight, not nearly as pleasant, was the slow moving clouds of mist that I viewed repeatedly along the route. The festers of cyclist gnats had a field day as even slower creatures, Gary and I, made our way across their domain. With all the water that Iowa has been bombarded with over the last month, the population of gnats and mosquito’s has grown exponentially. The next several days should be interesting, as we attempt to make it across the saturated countryside with our limbs and blood in tact.

Speaking of the Iowan Ocean, we have been quite fortunate in the roads we have selected thus far; as they have been bike passable and quite friendly to two wheeled machines. We pray we have secured a solid route that will see us safely across the state without encountering washed out roads and bridges; stay posted as further updates on this challenge will be forth coming.

The last 20 miles of our ride tonight took place on a paved bike path from Panora to Alder, Iowa. Aside from Gary’s flat tire (which is becoming habit with him), and nearly being taken out by a Fred, the route was great and we had little trouble crossing it. We ended the day 120 miles closer to the vast waters that are calling us, and of course enjoyed a frosty brew. I would like to thank Brock for the delicious Sam Adams that wet our pallets after a long day in the saddle. Gary, Bob, and I wanted to send our deepest appreciation for this contribution to the ride in the only way we knew how; by emptying them happily and quickly. Thanks bud!

In parting, I would like to send my deepest and warmest appreciation to Bob Loch. Tonight was the final chapter in Bob’s career as support driver for our quest to cross America by bike. Over the last 8 days Bob has been nothing short of a blessing; his hard work to keep us fed, hydrated, and on track have proven invaluable. Bob, thank you for taking part in this crazy bike adventure; it has been an honor and a privilege to spend the last 1,000 miles in your company. You will forever be an integral member of RAA 2008, and I am in your debt. Thank you!!!!!