When The Robins Sing

 In celebration of the twentieth year of this blog, I have a few tales to tell. This post is one of them. This series will occur off and on throughout this anniversary year, I hope to illuminate some behind-the-scenes stories and highlights from the blog during this time. Enjoy!

When I was young we had football practice starting in early August. Two-a-days, which consisted of one morning practice and another in the afternoon. I don't think the High School Athletic Association here allows this anymore, but during those days, it was a common practice.

When I was out of school, every early August for many years afterward would trigger the feelings I had of being excited for another year of high school football. I only experienced this football thing in August for four years, but somehow, the heat of August, the humidity, the way the Sun shone, all those things made me feel "football feelings" for the next ten-plus years in August.

The "fingernail moon" sets in the Western sky on the dawn of Trans Iowa v10 in 2014.

Now days, it is the song of the Robin which makes me feel a thing I used to experience every April. Of course, I am talking about Trans Iowa. This whole upcoming month of April on this blog used to be dominated by news of the next Trans Iowa event which always happened during the last week of April.

Robins come back to Iowa, if they even leave parts of the state anymore, around the end of February and early March.  However; they often will not start in the morning with their distinctive chaotic warble until late March or early April, depending upon the weather. As soon as I hear my first Robin song of the year, my mind immediately shifts into "Trans Iowa mode". Even after seven years have gone by since the last T.I.

The early morning Sun illuminates the faces of the lead pack during Trans Iowa v10 (Image by Guitar Ted)

The image above represents a time where Robins made a deep mental impression on my mind. I was far out ahead of the riders during the opening hours of Trans Iowa v10 in 2014. I decided to park at the top of one of many big rollers on the course to see if I could spot the lead pack coming and alert my volunteers at the first checkpoint. Maybe I could give them an ETA so they would be ready to get the riders through as quickly as possible.

I arrived at the spot shown above about 40 minutes too early. In the meantime, I stood outside my truck, straining to see when a small dark splotch might move over the Western horizon representing a small pack of riders. As I stood looking Westward, the Sun began to rise, and Robins in the nearby trees in the ditch to the North started singing loudly.

I'm not sure I ever really described what this was like to do in a way which would make an impression on you dear readers of Guitar Ted Productions. But it was a sublime, serene time which I cherish. I was blessed to have several of these types of moments during Trans Iowas. Just soaking it all in, waiting for the brief sighting of riders, anticipating their arrival, experiencing a brief moment of chaotic greetings, then hearing the rider's chatter and the gritty sound of tires on gravel disappear into the landscape again.

Robins singing in Springtime bring all this back to me again and again. But they are not the only birds to figure heavily into my Trans Iowa memories.