Trans Iowa Stories: Help Unlooked For

A section of Level B reconned by David in 2009 for T.I.v6 which led to CP#3

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

The end of Trans Iowa v6 was one of those deals where things were so stressful, crazy, then relieving and almost fun, that I cannot do it justice with words. It was singularly unique, and those few that were involved in it experienced something really special. The experience for me was so twisted and such a roller coaster of emotions that I was kind of on cruise mode by the end of it all. It was just that overwhelming for me on a personal level.

Things obviously got started off with my high expectations and then were slammed into a valley of darkness with the early morning severe weather worries. Then dealing with a pushy, surly spectator/support person added to my stress levels going into an afternoon of tense driving on roads that, frankly, were barely passable in David's Honda Element 4X4. Follow that with the stress of the fight to reroute the course so as to take out Level B Roads which would make getting to Checkpoint #3 on time impossible, and it was a recipe for emotional shutdown.

First of all, I do not mean to make light of anyone else's experiences out there. Obviously, stress levels were high for many T.I.v6 participants. Take Matt Wills, for instance, who commented on my blog afterward on one of the T.I.v6 recap posts: "soaking wet in a ditch, hiding from the lightning about 15miles from CP2." These are the kinds of things that keep event directors up at night, in case you ever wondered what putting on an event was like. I remember reading that and it was like a punch to the gut. I responded," @mw: Sorry you got caught out. We didn't see that lightning, but we were north of you at that point." To which Matt responded,"oh it's nothing to be sorry for or anything i regret. i wonder if i would have been with someone that i could have motivated myself thru the part of the course i was stuck in the lightning on.

TI is a monster and i'm ok that it's not always possible to complete for me or anyone."

That last line! Pulled me right back, but I have to say that Trans Iowa attracted some of the best, most stand up characters I've had the privilege of knowing. People like that and more are why the gravel scene grew to what it is now. The scene is standing on the backs of all these great folks. Because I'm telling you, if more of the riders were like the surly spectator I had to deal with, I would have quit doing the T.I. thing long before I did.  

I visited the never-used CP#3 location for T.I.v6 last Summer

Back to the story at hand- The post checkpoint #2 part of the event was marked by David and I being stressed out and in a huge hurry to find re-routes that worked, and then mark them with flags, before any riders showed up. This was, in the end, a fools errand, but at the time we were busting our butts trying to work as hard as we could.

That's an important point, because we had a LOT of rerouting ahead of us plus the fact that we knew that checkpoint #3 was impossible to reach due to three sections of some of the gnarliest Level B Roads in Tama County. They are hard to pass when conditions are perfect, as I found out last Summer, but given the unholy nature of the gravel roads we were driving on, we knew there was absolutely no passage on those steep rollers of pure clay morass.

To be honest, I'm not even sure we had contemplated fully what getting to CP#3 would entail, but in the end, it didn't matter. I recall when we were headed North and crossed I-80 on a gravel overpass, that shortly after that it started raining so hard that we could no longer see to drive! Now about this time it was getting pretty dark as well, as the Sun was low in the horizon and shrouded from view by the thick cloud cover. It basically was night time. I knew David was stressing hard, the vibe was so thick with it, and I turned and asked him if he really wanted to continue to drive through this madness. His answer came without hesitation. No. He was done.

So, I called the event with David's blessings right then and there. Checkpoint #2 had already closed, so there was no "catching" anyone there. We decided to backtrack the course once the squall we had been stopped by moved on. We headed back the way we came slowly and methodically. Suddenly I got a text from Joe Meiser asking what the status of the event was. He and John Gorilla were holed up at an ice cream shop/cafe' called the "EV Malt Shoppe" in North English, the next town out from CP#2. This would have been approximately 25 miles down from CP#2 on the T.I.v6 course. I found out that it took 2.5 hours for Gorilla and Meiser to cover that distance.

By the way, I didn't even get a chance to answer his text before he called me to repeat the same question. Meiser knew by the math that T.I.v6 was officially over. No one was going to make CP#3 on time. He wanted to know where the impromptu finish line might be, and his call was to get that info ASAP so he and Gorilla could guarantee a 1-2 finish, if I was going to do what I did in T.I.v4. Gorilla would have known this, since he won that truncated event.

The phone conversation was comical. We were both being extremely cagey with each other so as not to show our hand. In the end, I asked that he and Gorilla look out for the remaining six riders we knew about coming through there. We were ending the event right at that place they were holed up in. Meanwhile, the rain was pounding and David and I were carefully driving back to North English, now on pavement wherever possible since we knew that we weren't going to see any riders now.

What happened then at the EV Malt Shoppe is something I'll never forget. The goodness of people. Empathy. Caring. Love for fellow humans. These are the deals that give one hope, a reason to carry on. It's when we are at our very best. No politics, no grandstanding, just goodness. Pure goodness.

Matt Braun, (L) and David Pals with an unidentified rider cleaning up in the background at the EV Malt Shoppe in North English, Iowa. 

When we arrived, David and I, at the EV Malt Shoppe, Meiser and Gorilla got up and motioned that we probably had better set up operations at the convenience store down the street because the Malt Shoppe was closing at 8:00pm, which was minutes away. The owner of the shop, who had overheard this conversation, then came up and interrupted. He was having none of that. He and his employees were willing to stay as long as it took to get the six riders in and accounted for. Not only that, but his waitress and cook stayed on and opened the kitchen back up. Hot chocolates and french fries soon hit the tables and wet, cold riders we were pulling in off the course were warming their hands on the hot cups and gratefully gulping down the grub.

Not only that, but my CP#3 volunteers, and some T.I. support folks all swept in to the Malt Shoppe and we ended up with more than enough folks and vehicles to get all home safely. The owner of the shop even allowed the muddy riders to hose themselves and their bikes off with a garden hose out the side door of the place.

Clockwise from the left: Jay Petervary, Traci Petervary, Matt Braun, Charles Parsons, Joe Meiser (seated).

By 9:45 pm all was wrapped up. It was over. We dodged another bullet, but now we had to get back to Grinnell and to the Barn to see who would show up at our now, unneeded finish line. Ironically, it would take until Trans Iowa v9 before anyone would actually finish at The Barn, and then we only got to do that for T.I. v9 and v10 before weather and other life changes caused The Barn to fall off the radar of T.I. history.

I'll never forget seeing that barn from the hill on the west side overlooking the valley where it sat. I walked in a driving, cold, sideways rain with David to join the few hardy folks that actually showed up at The Barn to hear the tales of the day. It seemed like a big failure to me at that time, Trans Iowa v6. All this grand planning and sponsorship, and all the hoopla surrounding our first time in Grinnell. All washed away by a wicked storm. I felt really low walking up to that barn, like I didn't belong in this game.

Then we came out of the weather, the lights were bright, people hailed us, we were congratulated. Riders were cleaned up and in high spirits. We asked if we could make anything better, and all we got were compliments on how we were already doing things. One suggestion, by John Gorilla, was to make accommodation for folks who had actually finished the thing to get in again. Otherwise we heard no complaining at all.

I've said it before, but the reason I kept doing Trans Iowa was because of the people involved, and that night sealed the deal for another running of Trans Iowa again. But sometimes people let you down, it is true, and sometimes I let others down, which is very true as well. Sometimes you dodge a bullet, sometimes you get hit and wounded. All of this would come into play for the next Trans Iowa, which in my view is the most pivotal Trans Iowa event of all fourteen.

Next: It's The People

Trans Iowa Stories: Help Unlooked For

A section of Level B reconned by David in 2009 for T.I.v6 which led to CP#3

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

The end of Trans Iowa v6 was one of those deals where things were so stressful, crazy, then relieving and almost fun, that I cannot do it justice with words. It was singularly unique, and those few that were involved in it experienced something really special. The experience for me was so twisted and such a roller coaster of emotions that I was kind of on cruise mode by the end of it all. It was just that overwhelming for me on a personal level.

Things obviously got started off with my high expectations and then were slammed into a valley of darkness with the early morning severe weather worries. Then dealing with a pushy, surly spectator/support person added to my stress levels going into an afternoon of tense driving on roads that, frankly, were barely passable in David's Honda Element 4X4. Follow that with the stress of the fight to reroute the course so as to take out Level B Roads which would make getting to Checkpoint #3 on time impossible, and it was a recipe for emotional shutdown.

First of all, I do not mean to make light of anyone else's experiences out there. Obviously, stress levels were high for many T.I.v6 participants. Take Matt Wills, for instance, who commented on my blog afterward on one of the T.I.v6 recap posts: "soaking wet in a ditch, hiding from the lightning about 15miles from CP2." These are the kinds of things that keep event directors up at night, in case you ever wondered what putting on an event was like. I remember reading that and it was like a punch to the gut. I responded," @mw: Sorry you got caught out. We didn't see that lightning, but we were north of you at that point." To which Matt responded,"oh it's nothing to be sorry for or anything i regret. i wonder if i would have been with someone that i could have motivated myself thru the part of the course i was stuck in the lightning on.

TI is a monster and i'm ok that it's not always possible to complete for me or anyone."

That last line! Pulled me right back, but I have to say that Trans Iowa attracted some of the best, most stand up characters I've had the privilege of knowing. People like that and more are why the gravel scene grew to what it is now. The scene is standing on the backs of all these great folks. Because I'm telling you, if more of the riders were like the surly spectator I had to deal with, I would have quit doing the T.I. thing long before I did.  

I visited the never-used CP#3 location for T.I.v6 last Summer

Back to the story at hand- The post checkpoint #2 part of the event was marked by David and I being stressed out and in a huge hurry to find re-routes that worked, and then mark them with flags, before any riders showed up. This was, in the end, a fools errand, but at the time we were busting our butts trying to work as hard as we could.

That's an important point, because we had a LOT of rerouting ahead of us plus the fact that we knew that checkpoint #3 was impossible to reach due to three sections of some of the gnarliest Level B Roads in Tama County. They are hard to pass when conditions are perfect, as I found out last Summer, but given the unholy nature of the gravel roads we were driving on, we knew there was absolutely no passage on those steep rollers of pure clay morass.

To be honest, I'm not even sure we had contemplated fully what getting to CP#3 would entail, but in the end, it didn't matter. I recall when we were headed North and crossed I-80 on a gravel overpass, that shortly after that it started raining so hard that we could no longer see to drive! Now about this time it was getting pretty dark as well, as the Sun was low in the horizon and shrouded from view by the thick cloud cover. It basically was night time. I knew David was stressing hard, the vibe was so thick with it, and I turned and asked him if he really wanted to continue to drive through this madness. His answer came without hesitation. No. He was done.

So, I called the event with David's blessings right then and there. Checkpoint #2 had already closed, so there was no "catching" anyone there. We decided to backtrack the course once the squall we had been stopped by moved on. We headed back the way we came slowly and methodically. Suddenly I got a text from Joe Meiser asking what the status of the event was. He and John Gorilla were holed up at an ice cream shop/cafe' called the "EV Malt Shoppe" in North English, the next town out from CP#2. This would have been approximately 25 miles down from CP#2 on the T.I.v6 course. I found out that it took 2.5 hours for Gorilla and Meiser to cover that distance.

By the way, I didn't even get a chance to answer his text before he called me to repeat the same question. Meiser knew by the math that T.I.v6 was officially over. No one was going to make CP#3 on time. He wanted to know where the impromptu finish line might be, and his call was to get that info ASAP so he and Gorilla could guarantee a 1-2 finish, if I was going to do what I did in T.I.v4. Gorilla would have known this, since he won that truncated event.

The phone conversation was comical. We were both being extremely cagey with each other so as not to show our hand. In the end, I asked that he and Gorilla look out for the remaining six riders we knew about coming through there. We were ending the event right at that place they were holed up in. Meanwhile, the rain was pounding and David and I were carefully driving back to North English, now on pavement wherever possible since we knew that we weren't going to see any riders now.

What happened then at the EV Malt Shoppe is something I'll never forget. The goodness of people. Empathy. Caring. Love for fellow humans. These are the deals that give one hope, a reason to carry on. It's when we are at our very best. No politics, no grandstanding, just goodness. Pure goodness.

Matt Braun, (L) and David Pals with an unidentified rider cleaning up in the background at the EV Malt Shoppe in North English, Iowa. 

When we arrived, David and I, at the EV Malt Shoppe, Meiser and Gorilla got up and motioned that we probably had better set up operations at the convenience store down the street because the Malt Shoppe was closing at 8:00pm, which was minutes away. The owner of the shop, who had overheard this conversation, then came up and interrupted. He was having none of that. He and his employees were willing to stay as long as it took to get the six riders in and accounted for. Not only that, but his waitress and cook stayed on and opened the kitchen back up. Hot chocolates and french fries soon hit the tables and wet, cold riders we were pulling in off the course were warming their hands on the hot cups and gratefully gulping down the grub.

Not only that, but my CP#3 volunteers, and some T.I. support folks all swept in to the Malt Shoppe and we ended up with more than enough folks and vehicles to get all home safely. The owner of the shop even allowed the muddy riders to hose themselves and their bikes off with a garden hose out the side door of the place.

Clockwise from the left: Jay Petervary, Traci Petervary, Matt Braun, Charles Parsons, Joe Meiser (seated).

By 9:45 pm all was wrapped up. It was over. We dodged another bullet, but now we had to get back to Grinnell and to the Barn to see who would show up at our now, unneeded finish line. Ironically, it would take until Trans Iowa v9 before anyone would actually finish at The Barn, and then we only got to do that for T.I. v9 and v10 before weather and other life changes caused The Barn to fall off the radar of T.I. history.

I'll never forget seeing that barn from the hill on the west side overlooking the valley where it sat. I walked in a driving, cold, sideways rain with David to join the few hardy folks that actually showed up at The Barn to hear the tales of the day. It seemed like a big failure to me at that time, Trans Iowa v6. All this grand planning and sponsorship, and all the hoopla surrounding our first time in Grinnell. All washed away by a wicked storm. I felt really low walking up to that barn, like I didn't belong in this game.

Then we came out of the weather, the lights were bright, people hailed us, we were congratulated. Riders were cleaned up and in high spirits. We asked if we could make anything better, and all we got were compliments on how we were already doing things. One suggestion, by John Gorilla, was to make accommodation for folks who had actually finished the thing to get in again. Otherwise we heard no complaining at all.

I've said it before, but the reason I kept doing Trans Iowa was because of the people involved, and that night sealed the deal for another running of Trans Iowa again. But sometimes people let you down, it is true, and sometimes I let others down, which is very true as well. Sometimes you dodge a bullet, sometimes you get hit and wounded. All of this would come into play for the next Trans Iowa, which in my view is the most pivotal Trans Iowa event of all fourteen.

Next: It's The People

Trans Iowa Stories: Muddy Ends

Walking a Level B Road in Trans Iowa v6. Image courtesy of C. Godfrey

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

Once I had dispatched the ornery potential spectator, David and I hopped back onto the course with renewed optimism. The day was drenched in rain, the air was humid, and every road was soft or muddy. The going was slow and arduous. A small lead group of about six to seven guys had broken away which included John Gorilla, former winner of v4, Joe Meiser, the defending champion, and Charlie Farrow. We passed them not long after leaving checkpoint #1 and noted that they were working really hard. David and I zipped ahead, checking roads, and stopped around noon at Pella, Iowa, the next convenience store opportunity on the v6 course. It was during the Tulip Festival there, and tulips were in bloom all over the small town.

David and I decided that due to the difficulties in traversing normal gravel roads because of their rain-soaked state, we would start taking out Level B roads on the course. We rerouted a bad one just East of Pella, but not before leaders John Gorilla and Joe Meiser walked the entire thing, and still retained their lead afterward. Then we went backward toward Pella to warn riders of the re-route that hadn't passed us. Eventually we ended back up at the convenience store in town. I recall that it seemed to be taking a very long time for riders to arrive, and when they did, they were coming in pairs, or singly. The difficulty of that course in those conditions put everyone left in survival mode. Attrition rates were high. I think we ended up having less than 20 riders attempting to get to Checkpoint #2 by late afternoon. Out of 57 starters, 30 missed the cut-off at CP#1, and now the numbers with any hope of making CP#2 were dwindling further.


As things progressed, we were becoming more concerned with weather. David was talking with his wife at that time and was getting updates from her on the forecast. It didn't look good. The weather was predicted to go steadily downhill throughout the afternoon hours and by early evening a hellish prediction of 30mph winds, heavy rainfall, and more possibilities for severe thunderstorms was being forecast. David and I could only hope that they would be incorrect,and we turned our attention to matters at hand.

The lead group plows through mushy gravel just after leaving CP#1. NOTE- Meiser and Gorilla breaking away in the distance.

Riders at checkpoint 2 in What Cheer trying to determine if they can beat the time cutoff to CP#3 during T.I.v6 (Image by K. Wilson)

We oversaw the setting up of the second checkpoint in the little village of What Cheer, Iowa, which had a convenience store located across the street. This was set to be the last checkpoint in a town on the route. The third checkpoint was in a remote location. Unfortunately, no one ever saw that, as the weather slid downhill and eventually ended the event. Not that it mattered much anyway. The conditions coming into Checkpoint #2 were bad and getting worse, making even getting through that time check unattainable for many left in the event.

(L-R) Dennis Grelk, Joe Meiser, Sean Mailen, and John Gorilla consider their fate in T.I.v6. Image by K. Wilson

  Gorilla and Meiser showed up after 4:00pm, and a small group of chasers were the only other ones that even had a prayer of continuing. Because of the lateness of their arrival to Checkpoint #2, which closed at 5:00pm, this small group had no "time in the bank" to waste. Getting to checkpoint #3, in those conditions, was a real questionable feat. Plus, everyone knew it was going to be bad weather-wise by this point. It already had started in to raining again, making the bad roads even worse,

This resulted in the T.I.v6 What Cheer Pow-Wow. There was a lot of going back and forth between the riders as to what to do, as I was told later by Paul Jacobson, a volunteer at the checkpoint. Should they press on? What about the weather? "The roads are bad, getting worse, we don't have time to make it."

Somehow or another, Meiser and Gorilla left to ride on. Eventually, the remainder of this small group all bailed on continuing. While they packed it in, six other riders miraculously made the checkpoint at the last possible minute and blew right on down the road. These included Corey Godfrey, Eric Brunt, Charles Parsons, Matt Braun, and the Petervarys on their tandem. The chase group then questioned their decision and a few of them deeply regretted not carrying on afterward.

I remember when I got the word that the chasers had quit that I was somewhat surprised. These were some stalwart riders. Tim Ek, Charlie Farrow, and others who were good at this Trans Iowa thing. Not guys I would have guessed would have thrown in the towel, but considering conditions and time...... Yeah..... Maybe, I get that. It was what it was, and it left eight intrepid souls plus David and I out there to do battle with the ever worsening weather and roads. Eight riders on seven bikes that cleared the checkpoint, (the Petervary's tandem team making that unlikely number of bikes vs people understandable), and the skies grew darker.

Next: Help Unlooked For

Trans Iowa Stories: Muddy Ends

Walking a Level B Road in Trans Iowa v6. Image courtesy of C. Godfrey

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

Once I had dispatched the ornery potential spectator, David and I hopped back onto the course with renewed optimism. The day was drenched in rain, the air was humid, and every road was soft or muddy. The going was slow and arduous. A small lead group of about six to seven guys had broken away which included John Gorilla, former winner of v4, Joe Meiser, the defending champion, and Charlie Farrow. We passed them not long after leaving checkpoint #1 and noted that they were working really hard. David and I zipped ahead, checking roads, and stopped around noon at Pella, Iowa, the next convenience store opportunity on the v6 course. It was during the Tulip Festival there, and tulips were in bloom all over the small town.

David and I decided that due to the difficulties in traversing normal gravel roads because of their rain-soaked state, we would start taking out Level B roads on the course. We rerouted a bad one just East of Pella, but not before leaders John Gorilla and Joe Meiser walked the entire thing, and still retained their lead afterward. Then we went backward toward Pella to warn riders of the re-route that hadn't passed us. Eventually we ended back up at the convenience store in town. I recall that it seemed to be taking a very long time for riders to arrive, and when they did, they were coming in pairs, or singly. The difficulty of that course in those conditions put everyone left in survival mode. Attrition rates were high. I think we ended up having less than 20 riders attempting to get to Checkpoint #2 by late afternoon. Out of 57 starters, 30 missed the cut-off at CP#1, and now the numbers with any hope of making CP#2 were dwindling further.


As things progressed, we were becoming more concerned with weather. David was talking with his wife at that time and was getting updates from her on the forecast. It didn't look good. The weather was predicted to go steadily downhill throughout the afternoon hours and by early evening a hellish prediction of 30mph winds, heavy rainfall, and more possibilities for severe thunderstorms was being forecast. David and I could only hope that they would be incorrect,and we turned our attention to matters at hand.

The lead group plows through mushy gravel just after leaving CP#1. NOTE- Meiser and Gorilla breaking away in the distance.

Riders at checkpoint 2 in What Cheer trying to determine if they can beat the time cutoff to CP#3 during T.I.v6 (Image by K. Wilson)

We oversaw the setting up of the second checkpoint in the little village of What Cheer, Iowa, which had a convenience store located across the street. This was set to be the last checkpoint in a town on the route. The third checkpoint was in a remote location. Unfortunately, no one ever saw that, as the weather slid downhill and eventually ended the event. Not that it mattered much anyway. The conditions coming into Checkpoint #2 were bad and getting worse, making even getting through that time check unattainable for many left in the event.

(L-R) Dennis Grelk, Joe Meiser, Sean Mailen, and John Gorilla consider their fate in T.I.v6. Image by K. Wilson

  Gorilla and Meiser showed up after 4:00pm, and a small group of chasers were the only other ones that even had a prayer of continuing. Because of the lateness of their arrival to Checkpoint #2, which closed at 5:00pm, this small group had no "time in the bank" to waste. Getting to checkpoint #3, in those conditions, was a real questionable feat. Plus, everyone knew it was going to be bad weather-wise by this point. It already had started in to raining again, making the bad roads even worse,

This resulted in the T.I.v6 What Cheer Pow-Wow. There was a lot of going back and forth between the riders as to what to do, as I was told later by Paul Jacobson, a volunteer at the checkpoint. Should they press on? What about the weather? "The roads are bad, getting worse, we don't have time to make it."

Somehow or another, Meiser and Gorilla left to ride on. Eventually, the remainder of this small group all bailed on continuing. While they packed it in, six other riders miraculously made the checkpoint at the last possible minute and blew right on down the road. These included Corey Godfrey, Eric Brunt, Charles Parsons, Matt Braun, and the Petervarys on their tandem. The chase group then questioned their decision and a few of them deeply regretted not carrying on afterward.

I remember when I got the word that the chasers had quit that I was somewhat surprised. These were some stalwart riders. Tim Ek, Charlie Farrow, and others who were good at this Trans Iowa thing. Not guys I would have guessed would have thrown in the towel, but considering conditions and time...... Yeah..... Maybe, I get that. It was what it was, and it left eight intrepid souls plus David and I out there to do battle with the ever worsening weather and roads. Eight riders on seven bikes that cleared the checkpoint, (the Petervary's tandem team making that unlikely number of bikes vs people understandable), and the skies grew darker.

Next: Help Unlooked For

Trans Iowa Stories: Thunder And Lightning : Part 2

The eves of the tail end of the storm meant that V6 was still on.

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

I made a Trans Iowa Radio Post on the overpass of the interstate. Then we got in the car and proceeded to head South. It was about this time that all Hell broke loose. Lightning strikes were hitting within a half a mile of us. These strikes came often, but that wasn't the worst of it. The rain came down in sheets and the wind was wicked.

It was, in a word, bad. So bad we were debating whether or not we should call the event, how we would do that given the circumstances, and if there were any chances we could stop it immediately. It was scary, tense, and stressful. In the end, we determined that the riders were in it. They were responsible for themselves. We could do nothing to save them, or prevent anything from happening. David and I decided that if the storm continued until riders reached Checkpoint #1, we would call off the event there due to poor conditions. And so we went on, very concerned and worried as we made our way slowly South.

Afterward I got a lot of reports of riders hiding in ditches to make themselves lower, so not to become lightning rods. There were never any real calls for our heads though. No condemnation. It was assumed that you either went on or your other option was to bail out. And some did just that right then and there. That said, I didn't like what happened at all, then or now as I write this.

When we said "YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU!" on the Trans Iowa site, we decided we had to live with that. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy. This was the part that I hated the most about Trans Iowa. It's the part that was the hardest. I know some of you are wagging your virtual fingers and thinking, "How could you!", or some other not-so-nice variation thereof. However; it was how the entire event was set up, and it had to mean something. You know what? I found out that it did too. It meant that it sucked to live through that for me, David, and anyone else that cared, but for the competitors, well, you might be surprised at their thoughts.

Thoughts like John Gorilla's in T.I.v4, when we stopped that event, and he was angry and wanted to continue, or Jay Petervary, who argued with David and I later on in the event I am describing here, saying that he and his wife should be allowed to finish. The event participants had their say, and wagged their fingers at us, but very often we had to veto them.

We had a rule which dealt with these situations in place at the time which ended up being important at least two times down the years afterward. That would be Rule #16. It was modified from when it had been put in as another rule after T.I.v2 and the prizing kerfluffle that arose from truncating that event. But anyway.....back to the story.

The Level B that killed the event for half the field before Checkpoint #1. Image by A. Andonopoulous

We saw a ray of hope- literally and figuratively - when the storm began to clear out from the South. David and I were encouraged, and we forgot about the event ending right then and there. However; a Level B road, which saw about 45 minutes of rain at a rate of over an inch an hour, pretty much did end the event. Half of the 57 rider roster never saw the course past Checkpoint #1. 

David and I eventually connected with our Checkpoint #1 volunteers and saw that things were ready for the imminent arrival of the lead group. Things had cleared up pretty well by this point and we felt as though we had dodged a bullet with the weather. While we weren't in the clear just yet, we were hoping that the weather would back off long enough that we could get a majority of the event in at least.

This also marked the first time we did not publish, or even tell anyone, where the checkpoints were at, besides CP#1. We didn't even tell the volunteers where all the checkpoints were to protect them from having to guard secrets. The word was sent out to all of them that if anyone really needed to know where they were, they had to go through us. David, and especially myself, wanted to keep a tight lid on who knew anything and we wanted tight control of any would-be course spectators. This ended up being rather useful in Trans Iowa v6 as we had a specific instance where a certain individual was trying to spectate along the course. This particular man was actually a support person for a T.I.v6 rider, so it was even more important for us to not allow him around the course. This all came to a head after the lead groups made their way past Checkpoint #1.

The first riders appear at Checkpoint 1 with the dark, brooding storm off in the distance.

I think I was off at the convenience store in that town we had the checkpoint at when I got a call from a volunteer that a man was insisting he know where the next checkpoint was at. Not deterred by, or believing that, the volunteers didn't know, he was raising Cain and I told them to have him meet me.

When I caught up with this man, I realized who he was, since he was a local to me road rider. He was supporting Jeremy Fry, who became a friend of mine afterward. Jeremy had strictly told this fellow not to pursue this plan, but obviously, he wasn't having any of that. When I refused repeatedly to give him the location of the next checkpoint, he left in a huff. I figured that was that, but it wasn't. 

The man knew who I was and got a hold of my home phone number. My wife wasn't home at that point and we had a family friend watching my two young children. This man then began to harangue our friend over the phone for not telling him where the checkpoint was, even though she had no way of knowing what was going on. I found out about this post Trans Iowa, and I was pretty upset. Eventually, the message was given, via Jeremy, that he wasn't welcome at any future Trans Iowa events. Oh, and Jeremy was not very happy about it either. 

Although I didn't know it during the event, this became a very worrying thing for a while after the event for me. Could a disgruntled racer, or support person, get so angry that they brought their attack in a personal way, against my family? This was very nearly the case, and let me tell you, I would not want to think what would have become of things if my wife had been the one this guy got a hold of. Because then it would have affected me in the event, and who knows? Trans Iowa may not ever have happened again. But it did, obviously.......


Next: Muddy Ends

Trans Iowa Stories: Thunder And Lightning : Part 2

The eves of the tail end of the storm meant that V6 was still on.

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

I made a Trans Iowa Radio Post on the overpass of the interstate. Then we got in the car and proceeded to head South. It was about this time that all Hell broke loose. Lightning strikes were hitting within a half a mile of us. These strikes came often, but that wasn't the worst of it. The rain came down in sheets and the wind was wicked.

It was, in a word, bad. So bad we were debating whether or not we should call the event, how we would do that given the circumstances, and if there were any chances we could stop it immediately. It was scary, tense, and stressful. In the end, we determined that the riders were in it. They were responsible for themselves. We could do nothing to save them, or prevent anything from happening. David and I decided that if the storm continued until riders reached Checkpoint #1, we would call off the event there due to poor conditions. And so we went on, very concerned and worried as we made our way slowly South.

Afterward I got a lot of reports of riders hiding in ditches to make themselves lower, so not to become lightning rods. There were never any real calls for our heads though. No condemnation. It was assumed that you either went on or your other option was to bail out. And some did just that right then and there. That said, I didn't like what happened at all, then or now as I write this.

When we said "YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU!" on the Trans Iowa site, we decided we had to live with that. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy. This was the part that I hated the most about Trans Iowa. It's the part that was the hardest. I know some of you are wagging your virtual fingers and thinking, "How could you!", or some other not-so-nice variation thereof. However; it was how the entire event was set up, and it had to mean something. You know what? I found out that it did too. It meant that it sucked to live through that for me, David, and anyone else that cared, but for the competitors, well, you might be surprised at their thoughts.

Thoughts like John Gorilla's in T.I.v4, when we stopped that event, and he was angry and wanted to continue, or Jay Petervary, who argued with David and I later on in the event I am describing here, saying that he and his wife should be allowed to finish. The event participants had their say, and wagged their fingers at us, but very often we had to veto them.

We had a rule which dealt with these situations in place at the time which ended up being important at least two times down the years afterward. That would be Rule #16. It was modified from when it had been put in as another rule after T.I.v2 and the prizing kerfluffle that arose from truncating that event. But anyway.....back to the story.

The Level B that killed the event for half the field before Checkpoint #1. Image by A. Andonopoulous

We saw a ray of hope- literally and figuratively - when the storm began to clear out from the South. David and I were encouraged, and we forgot about the event ending right then and there. However; a Level B road, which saw about 45 minutes of rain at a rate of over an inch an hour, pretty much did end the event. Half of the 57 rider roster never saw the course past Checkpoint #1. 

David and I eventually connected with our Checkpoint #1 volunteers and saw that things were ready for the imminent arrival of the lead group. Things had cleared up pretty well by this point and we felt as though we had dodged a bullet with the weather. While we weren't in the clear just yet, we were hoping that the weather would back off long enough that we could get a majority of the event in at least.

This also marked the first time we did not publish, or even tell anyone, where the checkpoints were at, besides CP#1. We didn't even tell the volunteers where all the checkpoints were to protect them from having to guard secrets. The word was sent out to all of them that if anyone really needed to know where they were, they had to go through us. David, and especially myself, wanted to keep a tight lid on who knew anything and we wanted tight control of any would-be course spectators. This ended up being rather useful in Trans Iowa v6 as we had a specific instance where a certain individual was trying to spectate along the course. This particular man was actually a support person for a T.I.v6 rider, so it was even more important for us to not allow him around the course. This all came to a head after the lead groups made their way past Checkpoint #1.

The first riders appear at Checkpoint 1 with the dark, brooding storm off in the distance.

I think I was off at the convenience store in that town we had the checkpoint at when I got a call from a volunteer that a man was insisting he know where the next checkpoint was at. Not deterred by, or believing that, the volunteers didn't know, he was raising Cain and I told them to have him meet me.

When I caught up with this man, I realized who he was, since he was a local to me road rider. He was supporting Jeremy Fry, who became a friend of mine afterward. Jeremy had strictly told this fellow not to pursue this plan, but obviously, he wasn't having any of that. When I refused repeatedly to give him the location of the next checkpoint, he left in a huff. I figured that was that, but it wasn't. 

The man knew who I was and got a hold of my home phone number. My wife wasn't home at that point and we had a family friend watching my two young children. This man then began to harangue our friend over the phone for not telling him where the checkpoint was, even though she had no way of knowing what was going on. I found out about this post Trans Iowa, and I was pretty upset. Eventually, the message was given, via Jeremy, that he wasn't welcome at any future Trans Iowa events. Oh, and Jeremy was not very happy about it either. 

Although I didn't know it during the event, this became a very worrying thing for a while after the event for me. Could a disgruntled racer, or support person, get so angry that they brought their attack in a personal way, against my family? This was very nearly the case, and let me tell you, I would not want to think what would have become of things if my wife had been the one this guy got a hold of. Because then it would have affected me in the event, and who knows? Trans Iowa may not ever have happened again. But it did, obviously.......


Next: Muddy Ends

Trans Iowa Stories:Thunder And Lightning: Part 1

David Pals (bd.sahib on MTBR.com) comments about the course for v6

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

It was the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Trans Iowa v6 was entered in with a heart full of hope and a promise of the best event we'd engineered yet. It also came with a ton of stress and worry, with the whole thing nearly coming undone before it even started. (See last week's post)

The high was right off the bat with the "Pre-Race Meat-Up" at the newly minted Grinnell Steakhouse. This was a "grill your own" steak place where they had this enormous grill which they fired all up, especially for Trans Iowa, and let our riders, support people, friends, and volunteers use to enjoy some camaraderie and fun. This part of Trans Iowa I was very proud of, and the way the first one went, well....... "Smashing success"? Maybe "better than anyone could have imagined"? All I know is that compared to v5 the year before, this deal was astronomically better. It ended up being more than I had hoped.

Going in, all we were looking for was to create a bit of that early Dirty Kansas vibe. The "Small DK200", as I call it now, where things happened organically, and the field wasn't so big that you didn't get to at least say "hello" to everyone. David had been there, at the early DK's, and he was way into what we were doing too. The smiles on our faces as we watched the night unfold were wide and we felt very proud that evening.

As the crowd came in and mingled the room became full of chatting racers, support people, and some locals who were hip to the event. The vibe was definitely what David and I wanted, and then we did the pre-race meeting. That done, we were packing up our stuff and getting ready to head to our motel. That was about the time a young waitress came up, looking sheepish, and demurely asked us if we were coming back next year. That's exactly when we knew that the Grinnell Steakhouse was impressed with us. To say our stoke was maxed out would be putting things mildly.

The first Trans Iowa in Grinnell started in front of Bikes To You. The scene when David and I arrived. 

Just minutes before the 4:00am start of Trans Iowa v6

The start was electric. The tension was thick as the fog we were diving into. I remember the dichotomy of that Broad Street scene and what we were about to experience. First it was all bright lights and lots of people, and then only moments later, I remember being enveloped in darkness inside of David's Honda Element as we gingerly navigated soft, wet gravel roads. We were in 'Times Square', then we were in 'solitary confinement' in the matter of minutes. It was disconcerting to say the least.

But what was even more disconcerting, ominous even, were the sudden flashes of light I was seeing here and there. David did not see this at first as he was fully concentrating on not going off into a steep ditch. These roads were like roller coaster tracks- steeply up, then just as frighteningly steep going down, so he needed full command of all his faculties to steer the car and not fail. The thick blanket of fog did not help matters.

But then, after much debating about the light being a beacon on a windmill or not, we had to admit this was not anything but lightning. My heart was in my throat as we stopped atop the bridge over I-80 which the course used. I was looking at the radar on my phone, and it wasn't good. A severe thunderstorm warning for Jasper County. Dammit! Should we ride it out or call this thing off. The riders hadn't even gone 20 miles by this time into T.I.v6. David was more optimistic then I at this point. So we went forward. And then the skies unleashed their fury. I was about as low as I could go right about then. I felt terrible.

Next: Thunder And Lightning Part 2

Trans Iowa Stories:Thunder And Lightning: Part 1

David Pals (bd.sahib on MTBR.com) comments about the course for v6

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

It was the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Trans Iowa v6 was entered in with a heart full of hope and a promise of the best event we'd engineered yet. It also came with a ton of stress and worry, with the whole thing nearly coming undone before it even started. (See last week's post)

The high was right off the bat with the "Pre-Race Meat-Up" at the newly minted Grinnell Steakhouse. This was a "grill your own" steak place where they had this enormous grill which they fired all up, especially for Trans Iowa, and let our riders, support people, friends, and volunteers use to enjoy some camaraderie and fun. This part of Trans Iowa I was very proud of, and the way the first one went, well....... "Smashing success"? Maybe "better than anyone could have imagined"? All I know is that compared to v5 the year before, this deal was astronomically better. It ended up being more than I had hoped.

Going in, all we were looking for was to create a bit of that early Dirty Kansas vibe. The "Small DK200", as I call it now, where things happened organically, and the field wasn't so big that you didn't get to at least say "hello" to everyone. David had been there, at the early DK's, and he was way into what we were doing too. The smiles on our faces as we watched the night unfold were wide and we felt very proud that evening.

As the crowd came in and mingled the room became full of chatting racers, support people, and some locals who were hip to the event. The vibe was definitely what David and I wanted, and then we did the pre-race meeting. That done, we were packing up our stuff and getting ready to head to our motel. That was about the time a young waitress came up, looking sheepish, and demurely asked us if we were coming back next year. That's exactly when we knew that the Grinnell Steakhouse was impressed with us. To say our stoke was maxed out would be putting things mildly.

The first Trans Iowa in Grinnell started in front of Bikes To You. The scene when David and I arrived. 

Just minutes before the 4:00am start of Trans Iowa v6

The start was electric. The tension was thick as the fog we were diving into. I remember the dichotomy of that Broad Street scene and what we were about to experience. First it was all bright lights and lots of people, and then only moments later, I remember being enveloped in darkness inside of David's Honda Element as we gingerly navigated soft, wet gravel roads. We were in 'Times Square', then we were in 'solitary confinement' in the matter of minutes. It was disconcerting to say the least.

But what was even more disconcerting, ominous even, were the sudden flashes of light I was seeing here and there. David did not see this at first as he was fully concentrating on not going off into a steep ditch. These roads were like roller coaster tracks- steeply up, then just as frighteningly steep going down, so he needed full command of all his faculties to steer the car and not fail. The thick blanket of fog did not help matters.

But then, after much debating about the light being a beacon on a windmill or not, we had to admit this was not anything but lightning. My heart was in my throat as we stopped atop the bridge over I-80 which the course used. I was looking at the radar on my phone, and it wasn't good. A severe thunderstorm warning for Jasper County. Dammit! Should we ride it out or call this thing off. The riders hadn't even gone 20 miles by this time into T.I.v6. David was more optimistic then I at this point. So we went forward. And then the skies unleashed their fury. I was about as low as I could go right about then. I felt terrible.

Next: Thunder And Lightning Part 2

Trans Iowa Stories: New Things - Part 2

This view is completely familiar now, but in '09 it was new and exciting.

"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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!"

After a Summer of planning a new route in a new area, it was Fall and time to do recon. I had been pushing for an earlier date to get this done since we had been burned a few times by waiting too long and having Winter hit. So, this recon happened in late October, but even the best laid plans can go awry. That will be explained in a bit here.

I still remember being pumped about this route. I cannot speak for David, but I found a renewed energy after we had settled in on Grinnell and this energy was amped up even further by what we saw during the recon. Maybe I got a little too excited, because all the "highs" I was experiencing over this edition of Trans Iowa ended up being translated into many ideas which I ran with. I did these things without really consulting anyone, and in fact, looking back it is a bit embarrassing. This was not at all the direction I wanted Trans Iowa to go into, and I'm pretty certain it was not what David had envisaged either.

Things like the "acronym" crazy ideas I had were pointing more towards bigger production and slicker marketing. All the while we were still limiting the field to 75 riders, so it was a bit incongruous. The basic formula was retained- a short lead out to the first checkpoint, then a second and third checkpoints would fall at intervals across the course of about 80-ish miles. Convenience stores would be near each checkpoint, but we were careful not to choose sites where the checkpoint would interfere with normal business. New was a "no-tell" policy on the whereabouts of Checkpoints 2 and 3. We even kept the volunteers in the dark so as to short-circuit any bribing or "arm-twisting" for information. This became an issue with this event, as we will see.

From the late October recon of T.I.v6

We had a TON of sponsorship for this version of Trans Iowa as well. Coming off a year where sponsorship was basic and nearly non-existent, this was a stunning turn of events. This excited me even more and I was posting sponsorship news like crazy. Oakley, Revelate bags, Banjo Brothers, and more were onboard for this deal. Gravel cycling had caught the imagination of forward looking companies and marketing departments. Salsa Cycles, of course, was also a sponsor of T.I.v6. They were in the throes of putting together the first "gravel specific race bike", and they used events like Trans Iowa to do their "in the field" testing. Revelate Bags actually sent us prizing based upon the T.I.v5 web banner which depicted the calf I saw during T.I.v4 and which Jeff Kerkove used in his design. That featured "blood splattering" on the calf. Eric, the proprietor of Revelate, was so impressed that a gravel event would use such imagery that he told us that he just had to sponsor us!

With myself heading up all the goofy marketing, hoopla, receiving prizing, and doing all the communications, it left David out of the loop. This ended up causing a bit of a ruffle leading up to the start of T.I.v6. It was another one of those things that almost derailed Trans Iowa, but was a thing narrowly averted.

David did much of "his part" of recon by bicycle. Image by David Pals

With recon cut short by another severe Winter which lasted right into March, getting the route verified got pushed back. I was rather anxious about it and was putting pressure on to get everything lined up and completed for this edition of Trans Iowa. We had so many things lined up- a pre-race meeting at the Grinnell Steakhouse, discounted meals and motel rooms, a ride for non-competitors, and the big finale planned for the barn West of Grinnell. I had a lot of well known (in gravel riding circles at the time) competitors showing up. Even Jay Petervary and his wife, Traci, were showing up on a tandem, a first for Trans Iowa. To say that I felt pressure to get this thing sewn up and ready to put on was a great understatement.

I got a LOT of crazy gifts for v6 registration. David got nothing. It was unfair.

To boot, all the craziness of registration, the gifts and all the attention was on me. I, of course, enjoyed it and figured it was small recompense for my risk taking and efforts. But in the process, David, who lived an hour and a half away, got none of the benefits and a lot of the hassles. He was tasked with cue sheet production, and as I know, that is no fun at all and a very tedious task. Added to your daily job stress and family life, well, it can be quite a load to bear.

This all came to a head about two weeks out from the event. I was pressuring David about cues, and he responded in an angry e-mail saying he was quitting Trans Iowa and that he wasn't going to do the cue sheets. It was crisis management time for me, and I had to put away my emotions for the time being to help preserve Trans Iowa.

Sure, David could have communicated his displeasure long before it came to a head. Sure, I could have been a lot more sensitive to the situation he was in regarding Trans Iowa. We both had parts to play in the troubles, but that could all be navigated later. Maybe... At the moment, in 2010 only two weeks out from Trans Iowa, all I cared about was salvaging the event, no matter what. I smoothed things over as best I could, and David calmed himself down and put away his issues for the time being, and cues got done.

But you have no idea how close it came to all unraveling right there.

Next: Thunder And Lightning: Part 1

Trans Iowa Stories: New Things - Part 2

This view is completely familiar now, but in '09 it was new and exciting.

"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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!"

After a Summer of planning a new route in a new area, it was Fall and time to do recon. I had been pushing for an earlier date to get this done since we had been burned a few times by waiting too long and having Winter hit. So, this recon happened in late October, but even the best laid plans can go awry. That will be explained in a bit here.

I still remember being pumped about this route. I cannot speak for David, but I found a renewed energy after we had settled in on Grinnell and this energy was amped up even further by what we saw during the recon. Maybe I got a little too excited, because all the "highs" I was experiencing over this edition of Trans Iowa ended up being translated into many ideas which I ran with. I did these things without really consulting anyone, and in fact, looking back it is a bit embarrassing. This was not at all the direction I wanted Trans Iowa to go into, and I'm pretty certain it was not what David had envisaged either.

Things like the "acronym" crazy ideas I had were pointing more towards bigger production and slicker marketing. All the while we were still limiting the field to 75 riders, so it was a bit incongruous. The basic formula was retained- a short lead out to the first checkpoint, then a second and third checkpoints would fall at intervals across the course of about 80-ish miles. Convenience stores would be near each checkpoint, but we were careful not to choose sites where the checkpoint would interfere with normal business. New was a "no-tell" policy on the whereabouts of Checkpoints 2 and 3. We even kept the volunteers in the dark so as to short-circuit any bribing or "arm-twisting" for information. This became an issue with this event, as we will see.

From the late October recon of T.I.v6

We had a TON of sponsorship for this version of Trans Iowa as well. Coming off a year where sponsorship was basic and nearly non-existent, this was a stunning turn of events. This excited me even more and I was posting sponsorship news like crazy. Oakley, Revelate bags, Banjo Brothers, and more were onboard for this deal. Gravel cycling had caught the imagination of forward looking companies and marketing departments. Salsa Cycles, of course, was also a sponsor of T.I.v6. They were in the throes of putting together the first "gravel specific race bike", and they used events like Trans Iowa to do their "in the field" testing. Revelate Bags actually sent us prizing based upon the T.I.v5 web banner which depicted the calf I saw during T.I.v4 and which Jeff Kerkove used in his design. That featured "blood splattering" on the calf. Eric, the proprietor of Revelate, was so impressed that a gravel event would use such imagery that he told us that he just had to sponsor us!

With myself heading up all the goofy marketing, hoopla, receiving prizing, and doing all the communications, it left David out of the loop. This ended up causing a bit of a ruffle leading up to the start of T.I.v6. It was another one of those things that almost derailed Trans Iowa, but was a thing narrowly averted.

David did much of "his part" of recon by bicycle. Image by David Pals

With recon cut short by another severe Winter which lasted right into March, getting the route verified got pushed back. I was rather anxious about it and was putting pressure on to get everything lined up and completed for this edition of Trans Iowa. We had so many things lined up- a pre-race meeting at the Grinnell Steakhouse, discounted meals and motel rooms, a ride for non-competitors, and the big finale planned for the barn West of Grinnell. I had a lot of well known (in gravel riding circles at the time) competitors showing up. Even Jay Petervary and his wife, Traci, were showing up on a tandem, a first for Trans Iowa. To say that I felt pressure to get this thing sewn up and ready to put on was a great understatement.

I got a LOT of crazy gifts for v6 registration. David got nothing. It was unfair.

To boot, all the craziness of registration, the gifts and all the attention was on me. I, of course, enjoyed it and figured it was small recompense for my risk taking and efforts. But in the process, David, who lived an hour and a half away, got none of the benefits and a lot of the hassles. He was tasked with cue sheet production, and as I know, that is no fun at all and a very tedious task. Added to your daily job stress and family life, well, it can be quite a load to bear.

This all came to a head about two weeks out from the event. I was pressuring David about cues, and he responded in an angry e-mail saying he was quitting Trans Iowa and that he wasn't going to do the cue sheets. It was crisis management time for me, and I had to put away my emotions for the time being to help preserve Trans Iowa.

Sure, David could have communicated his displeasure long before it came to a head. Sure, I could have been a lot more sensitive to the situation he was in regarding Trans Iowa. We both had parts to play in the troubles, but that could all be navigated later. Maybe... At the moment, in 2010 only two weeks out from Trans Iowa, all I cared about was salvaging the event, no matter what. I smoothed things over as best I could, and David calmed himself down and put away his issues for the time being, and cues got done.

But you have no idea how close it came to all unraveling right there.

Next: Thunder And Lightning: Part 1

Trans Iowa Stories: The One-Off - Rejected!

 "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 going back to earlier Sunday posts on this blog. Thanks and enjoy!

The easy thing to pick out amongst Trans Iowa's fifth running was that it was held out of a new location. That town was Williamsburg, Iowa. I've told the story several times already about why it was David Pals and I decided to move Trans Iowa out of Decorah. Basically, we were rejected by one of the leading figures in cycling there at the time, and unfortunately, he was also one of Trans Iowa's earliest supporters and mentors. Getting rejected by "Deke" Gosen hurt, but we forged ahead with optimism that Williamsburg would be a great place for a fresh, new start.

Then reality set in. The town of Williamsburg thought we were fruitcakes and cycling events were weird. Cold shoulders and unfriendly looks were all we could find in that town as we hit up businesses and the City government as we went looking for help to find a venue for our pre-race meeting. I remember the meeting we had with a local sports bar and how we felt really down afterward. That pretty much characterized our entire experience with Williamsburg. It seemed that we were going to have to hold a pre-race meeting right out at the start line. And, in fact, that was the official plan as late as two weeks out from the event.

Since there was "no room at the inn" for a Trans Iowa pre-race meeting in Williamsburg, the plan was that I was going to be at a motel lobby near I-80, just North of Williamsburg, to hand out pre-race bags with the all important cue sheets. We even thought about having David sit at another motel lobby nearby to split the duties up, and catch more riders where they were staying, but that plan was put on hold till the last second. David was wanting to put in one, final effort to secure a spot where we could hold a proper pre-race meeting.

So, where were we going to hold the meeting? Well, we had found out during recon that Williamsburg had a cemetery located just on the outskirts of the village South on our way toward Checkpoint #1. We had thought about starting the event in town, but given the fact that the town fathers were so cold to our event, and that Trans Iowa had ended at a cemetery before (v3), why not start at one? Had David not accomplished the miracle he did, this is where the pre-race meeting would have been held.

That miracle was that David, somehow or another, talked someone into letting us have a meeting room in the second level of the local Municipal Community Center. I cannot recall that we had to pay anything for it, but if we did, it was a minimal amount. David pretty much handled all those details, so I am a bit foggy on that bit.

The point was, we had a room! That said, we were strictly told that there would be no allowances for food or drink whatsoever. We had some chairs, but we were responsible for the setting up and putting away of those, and we had a time limit which we had to meet in order to get the space. Any deviance or after-the-fact clean-up required by the staff of the Community Center would incur costs on our part. But, we had a room! 

While relief and happiness at the eleventh hour obtaining of the room was felt, David and I were not very pleased at all with the village of Williamsburg. Contrasted to the previous year, where we had cooks making spaghetti sauce in two flavors and reducing it all day, where we had beer and food, and a welcoming atmosphere, this austere, no frills meeting was a big let-down in our eyes. This was not David's, nor my idea of a Trans Iowa experience. This rejection and struggle with the village was not forgotten, and it pretty much guaranteed that T.I.v5 would be a one-off affair. The following Trans Iowa events would be held somewhere else, we knew that. Where that would be could wait. We had an event to put on first.

Next: The One-Off: Subterfuge At The Meeting