Sunday, January 23, 2022

Trans Iowa Stories: An Ending- A Release

Zitz, Aker, and Hinde coming home near the end of T.I.v13. Image by Jon Duke.
 "Trans Iowa Stories" is an every Sunday post which helps tell the stories behind the event. You can check out other posts about this subject  by clicking on the "Trans Iowa Stories" link under the blog header. Thanks and enjoy!  

Miller Park was a cold, wet, and wind swept place on Sunday, April 30th, 2017. It was not a good place to be, but that wasn't particular to Miller Park. It was just downright inhospitable anywhere out of doors on that morning. The kind of morning on which a good church goer would seriously entertain the idea of skipping services. But there we were, a small group of Trans Iowa folks. Waiting.....

I guess we thought Dan Hughes had some sort of super-power that day. We were amazed at his tenacity and perseverance. We were amazed that he was going to finish. We were amazed that anyone was going to finish! 

 Of course, Trans Iowa any year it was held, was no joke from a cycling perspective. 300+ miles, self-navigated, self-supported, and under time limits. Then throw in whatever roads I found: Hills, dirt roads, and even the occasional bike path. On top of all of that, toss on some fresh gravel. Finish it all with a heaping dose of weather. Depending upon the mixture and the nature of the ingredients, Trans Iowa was either a very tough challenge, ridiculously hard, or impossible. When it was on the edge of "ridiculously hard" and not quite "impossible", that was what most folks wanted to see. They called these "classic Trans Iowas". 

This Trans Iowa definitely fell into that "classic" status, and we all knew it while it was unfolding. That's why we were all standing around, shivering, trying to stay warm. We wanted to be eye witnesses to possibly the greatest Trans Iowa finish ever. 

(L-R) Trans Iowa veteran, Ari Andonopoulous, volunteer and T.I. finisher Mike Johnson, and volunteer and T.I. finisher Steve Fuller all awaiting the arrival of Dan Hughes.  (Image by Michael Roe)

From a logistical standpoint I was doing well. The event was going well and I had a finish line volunteer lined up again, which generally speaking wasn't always the case. This time it was Sveta Vold and her youngest daughter, Yeva. She was maybe just old enough to be walking, maybe a little over a year old at the time. Yeva splashed in the many puddles formed in the chip-seal parking lot area while the rest of us stood shivering, waiting... I found the contrast between the joy of a cavorting toddler, seemingly oblivious to the storm going on, and the rest of us cowering adults rather comical. 

Unfortunately for Sveta and Yeva, there was not going to be a lot to do during this soggy day. Trans Iowa was set to have well under ten finishers, and maybe less than five, if things played out accordingly. Hughes' expected arrival was taking so long now that the awaiting group of well-wishers were taking short trips to their vehicles to warm up frozen digits and toes. Along about 10:30am word came, via a text from Jon Duke to me, that Hughes was about ten minutes away from the finish line. I announced to those standing around that we had a finisher coming soon. That got the assembled souls there to stand to attention and all gazed Eastward up the entrance to Miller Park awaiting Dan Hughes arrival. 

My image of Dan Hughes as he finished T.I.v13. I was not ready for what came next....

Looking back, I have to mark that the whole finish line routine I practiced never really got its start until the third Trans Iowa. Since T.I.v1 was so haphazardly run, and because I was the only person in charge, we had to rely on Decorah Time Trial people to man our finish line, so I wasn't there for that one. Of course, Trans Iowa v2 was unfinishable. So, T.I.v3 was the first time I was present for a finisher of the event. And as has been documented before, that first effort made to congratulate the winner wasn't taken well. 

Some events made a big deal about getting that "hug" at the end from the event director. Chris Skogen was famous for his "Almanzo Handshake". What would I do? I cannot say that I really gave the thing much thought back then. I figured that the gentlemanly thing to do was to offer congratulations and a firm handshake. A look in the eyes to convey that I acknowledged the rider's achievement in overcoming the challenge that I set up. A handshake then. And while the first person it was offered to was not pleased, that turned out to be an aberration in the history of Trans Iowa finishers. 

So I figured, ya know, Dan Hughes would roll up, and in his typical, sardonic, dry manner, he would make some crack statement, then I would shake his hand, and we'd make a few pictures together. Then he would hang maybe for a bit, and that would be that. But I wasn't ready for what actually happened.

I have several shots of Dan Hughes at the finish of T.I.v13, but this one by Christopher Rhodes is my favorite.

Hughes showed up finally at about 10:45am. He rolled up to me and I stuck my hand out for that traditional handshake, but Hughes was having none of that. He reached out with his right arm and pulled me close to him in a powerful hug that lasted longer than you might feel comfortable with. 

I know words were exchanged then between he and I, but I have no recollection what those words might have been. All I can remember, and I remember this feeling vividly, is the emotional power that was in that hug Dan gave me. You could say it was a sort of catharsis. A purification of sorts happened right there. Something happened. More than Dan just giving me a hug. It was bigger than that, for him at any rate, and I was left sort of confused by what had just happened. I just knew something really big- more important than finishing Trans Iowa- had just occurred right then. 

Dan Hughes speaking with me shortly after his T.I.v13 finish. Image by Sveta Vold

I've often been told that Trans Iowa was a chance for someone who got into it to have their life changed. I have always taken that to heart, and since T.I.v3 I really focused on that aspect of the event. Many people may not have understood  the various unique facets of Trans Iowa, but then again, many events are not focused on things which are spiritual and psychological. The whole "mental" part of the event was of superior importance to me, so when I got feedback to the effect that someone had a so-called 'life changing' experience out there, I was particularly pleased by that. 

Dan's act was something that conveyed this with more than words to me. It was a powerful moment in my Trans Iowa experiences. Maybe the most memorable moment for me of all 14 years of the event. The fact that Dan is something of an enigma to me, and that his act at the finish line was so intimate and powerful to me, was at once confusing and supremely meaningful. I cannot speak for Dan, but all I know is that something - a release of sorts- happened in that moment, and while I cannot say exactly what that was, it is a moment I will not forget. 

Next: A Contrast Of Two Cyclists

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