Touring Iowa by bicycle – the Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa

Mother Nature pays her debts.

It was 18 years ago that Jeff Brune dragged me to Iowa for RAGBRAI, an event that ignited a passion for riding a bicycle, opened my life to many wonderful friendships and presented me with new challenges.

I’m not sure how that could have happened.

That seven-day ride in 1999 is considered one of hardest in the 45 years of the Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa because of it was one of the longest – 531 miles – and hottest – the temperature and humidity were above 90 the first six days.

And I was on a mountain bike.

This is how I opened my story for The Spokesman-Review Outdoors section:

“Time stood still. Mile after mile of scorching highway, filled with bicyclists, heads down, grinding away amid the shimmering heat waves.

Fun was long gone, burned away by relentless sun and smothered in humidity.

This festival on wheels became a battle of survival, at least mentally. RAGBRAI … had the unfortunate luck of combining its second longest ride miles with the Midwest’s worst heat wave in years.

What had been a fun event for most of the previous 26 RAGBRAI’s became a seven-day ordeal because of the distance and weather in Iowa the last week of July.”

Recalling that, maybe I didn’t want to become a cyclist. Maybe I just knew I had to embrace some sort of exercise – and if I could survive that…

I introduced former S-R circulation district manager Bob Glaza, an Iowa native, and Jeff. Soon they were making an annual pilgrimage to Iowa, often with a couple of other buddies. I always had an excuse not to go.

Or maybe I just didn’t want to get slapped around again by Iowa and Mother Nature.

Then my brother, a life-long rider now living in Denver, decided to take the plunge. We joined Bob and Jeff, Bob’s brother Tom and wife Mo and approximately 10,000 other cyclists. Riders came in all shapes, sizes and ages on every imaginable mode of pedaling transportation and in all kinds of attire, some of which don’t belong on a bike.

And I can’t quit smiling after putting 450 miles on my bike.

Jeff is nearing two dozen RAGBRAIs and Bob is closing in on 10. They stopped using a company to haul their gear but have enlisted their own support team, mostly Bob’s family. Their attention to detail in figuring out the logistics made everything a breeze. Being able to call myself a cyclist contributed immensely – my bike is about half the weight of my original steed, which had less miles on it than I was facing as I took my first pedal stroke in Iowa. And riding every mile with my brother Marc was a pleasure I’ll always treasure.

But what pushed the trip over the top was the weather. We didn’t ride a single mile above 90 degrees and we never stayed up all night because our tents were like a sauna. Iowa’s July heat and humidity was missing.

My second time around I noticed how determined and happy everyone seemed to be.

We prefer to ride with the riders and the plodders – start early and avoid big crowds at the stops. Besides all the food vendors scattered along the route, each town we passed through had many exhibits and local attractions – not to mention beer gardens and music.

We rode at a good pace and made numerous stops but didn’t waste much time and certainly avoided the beer. I chalk that up to an old body that gets stiff and the collarbone I broke in a bike accident that makes me hesitant to ride in huge groups, especially when alcohol is involved.

So we finished, set up our camp in some welcoming family’s yard and relaxed with cold drinks before heading downtown to shop for food and watch the meanders and revelers arrive.

Ride organizers must have determined less is best. Our longest day was the second, 72 miles, when Bob, Marc and I added the 30-mile loop to give us a century. That’s a far cry from the sufferfest year when the shortest day was 69 miles and survival, not a century, was my goal.

Highlights included showing Marc where Buddy Holly played his last show – the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake – one of three repeat overnight stops for me. Marc and I found a roadside coffee stand that pleased our coffee-snobberie – and beside it was a family making ham, egg and cheese muffins out of their RV, which made a perfect breakfast stop for three days.

I also introduced Marc to a famous food stop, Mr. Pork Chop, which we visited just a few hours ahead of Lance Armstrong and his entourage, which included NASCAR champion Jimmy Johnson.

We discovered a good sandwich – grilled cheese with bacon. As I stepped up to get my sandwich, the lady asked if mine was plain or with bacon. When I said I didn’t come all this way to skip the bacon, she asked where I was from. Then she informed me her great uncle started Brown Building Materials in Spokane. Of course.

A day I wore my Montana Grizzly jersey I met a rider with an Eastern Washington jersey. Of course. The Eagle was Terry Redmon of Olympia, an uncle of former Mead and Gonzaga point guard Jazmine Redmon.

On our last night Marc and I spent more time downtown, trying to find the right momento. We wanted to see and talk to more riders, with me inviting everyone up to ride the Centennial Trail, or the Hiawatha Trail or the Trail of the Coeur d’Alenes. We really didn’t want our time together to end.

The last day we had our only delay, a broken chain, and did the traditional dipping of front tires in the Mississippi River. Bob, Tom and Mo packed up for Bob’s Iowa vacation. Jeff, Marc and I waited for a bus to carry us to Omaha and a flight home.

It all went by too fast. Good weather, good friends and a bicycle – may it never end.

I’m convinced anyone can tackle RAGBRAI with a little time and a little more effort. But if biking isn’t your deal, why would you want to? It’s simple – for the same reason you walk Bloomsday or play Hoopfest, no matter what your skill level.

RAGBRAI is a well-oiled machine like those Spokane running and basketball spectacles, and it lasts longer.

If you want to exercise, enjoy the freedom you experienced when you learned to ride and love people, Iowa in July is the place to be. If Mother Nature cooperates you’ll have the time of your life.