Trans Iowa Stories: Too Cold For Beers: Part 1

The Sun sets before the last night for Trans Iowa

   "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!  

The disqualification of Tomasello, Zitz, and Gleason sort of gutted my experience of the evening. Matt was driving and I was pretty much just zoning out as we headed toward the last convenience store on the course which was in Montezuma, Iowa. 

The day had gotten quite warm, almost hot, and as evening came we could feel the temperatures dipping quickly. Coats came out and we had the heater on before long. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, fires, beers, and frivolity ensued back at Checkpoint #2. Dave Roll related much of what had gone down to me days afterward, but as it was happening, I was bouncing along a dusty road towards Montezuma, and a last chance for gas- literally- before the end of the event.

Todd Southworth tends to the fires at Checkpoint #2 as Dave Roll and others look on. Image by Craig Groseth

The whole early part of the evening after we left those DQ'ed riders is pretty much a blur to me now. I only recall stopping at Montezuma for gas and seeing Tony and Mike's vehicle there. There also was a lone bicycle propped up against the convenience store wall, and that belonged to Luke Wilson. 

Luke Wilson's bike as seen in Montezuma, Iowa during T.I.v14

Inside Tony and Mike were explaining the whole situation with regard to his chasers. How they carved back so much time that Wilson had to leave the checkpoint in a hurry as he saw them coming in. 

Wilson related that he basically dropped the hammer for many miles as hard as he was able, thinking he was about to be caught, and all the while wondering how it happened. The story we told him assuaged him to some degree, but he wasn't buying in 100% at that point. And who could really blame him? He had been pushing hard all day long with no idea how much of a lead he had built up. For all he knew, he hadn't been that far ahead at all, and now maybe some other riders might make contact with him during the night if he had to slow down, or stop for any reasons. 

We tried to let him know he was clear with plenty of room to spare, and that was because the three chasers had to be disqualified. But that did not really sink in, and Wilson didn't stick around long. He was gone into the inky night. Tony and Mike didn't want to stick around long and so we all left not long afterward. Tony and Mike went to set up shop at a point about 60 miles from the finish. Meanwhile, Matt and I had to continue to drive the course. 

We passed Wilson again, but oddly enough I do not remember this. I do remember that Matt was really feeling tired! At a point about 20 miles from the convenience store stop, I saw a drive way to a field and Matt and I decided to stop there. Across the road and up toward the way we had come maybe a tenth of a mile was a tall grove of evergreen trees. It was cold, and the moon was rising in the East. 

Luke Wilson gestures towards Matt Gersib as he speaks to us at the convenience store during T.I.v14

Matt went lights out pretty quickly and I was left standing out in the cold, answering phone calls for riders who were dropping out of the event. The phone was quite busy at this point since we had stopped just before 11:00pm and that was when the checkpoint closed. 

The 120th Street cue had bit more than a few riders and this caused several to have to bail out, or to miss the cut-off time completely. Either the riders were late getting there, or had just pushed themselves so hard to make it that they had burnt all their matches. And the fact that the temperature was dumping alarmingly probably did not help matters. 

Finally the DNF calls trailed off and I had more time to myself and my thoughts. A call of a Barred Owl suddenly pierced the night with its husky voice sounding as though it was coming right from those nearby evergreen trees. The trees, silhouetted by the rising moon, and in combination with the hooting owl made for a surreal time for me. An answering call came across the plain, and then the nearby owl called again. This went on for some time. 

Again, I had a memory burned into my brain. I was so blessed to have this experience, to have trusted volunteers who were running the event, and to have Matt right there, asleep, but sacrificing an entire weekend for this event of mine. It would never happen again......

The weight of those moments are something that I feel yet today. I was all alone. But I had support and I could feel that support as I stood there listening to the owls and feeling the bite of cold air on a beautiful moonlit April evening. I was alone- but I wasn't alone. 

Next: Too Cold For Beers: Part 2