Dispatches from Iowa: The Big Finale

St. Petersburg Times editor Jim Verhulst wraps up his 500-mile ride across Iowa.

The RAGBRAI finale, Day 7, Tipton to Le Claire, 52.7 miles ending at the Mississippi.

After a week of living in a tent and riding hard each day, riders begin the last day of RAGBRAI a bit melancholy that it's ending, yet happy that it's about to be over.

After a week of headwinds, we had an an up and down (but mostly down) course with a tailwind a part of the way. My riding partner and I took it easy for the first 40 miles. We ate pancakes on a stick (they're about as good as they sound). We should have known better but we were hungry.

Dispatches from Iowa: The Penultimate day

St. Petersburg Times editor Jim Verhulst is close to completing the 500-mile RAGBRAI ride in Iowa.

Day 6, Friday, July 25, 2008

North Liberty to Tipton, 64.1 miles, 3,051 feet of climbing.

 

A glorious and fast ride this morning. While RAGBRAI heads from the western border of Iowa to the eastern, today we went cycled mostly north, then south, before arriving at our overnight town of Tipton. It was a route that only a very confused crow would trouble to fly.

 

After yesterday's cold and wet spin, today was beautiful. Warm but not hot. We had a bit of a tailwind and, of course, a bunch of climbs again. My riding partner and I had breakfast together at Farm Boys' (breakfast burritos all around) and then split up for the day.

 

I rode solo most of the time until we hit some headwinds, then joined up with a paceline populated mostly by folks from the West Des Moines cycle club. It wasn't really a pace line, more of a "pace amoeba," as riders were moving down the road more in a blob than a line. But everyone seemed to know each other, and all seemed to be good and careful riders, so I sat in, taking care to watch whatever wheel happened to be in front of me.

We split up on a climb after some miles, then I hooked up with Drew Clark, a retired math teacher from Colorado, for the last 15 miles or so. He and his team won the RAAM (Race Across America) 60-69 age group back in 2006. They rode 3,042 miles in 7 days, two hours and 15 minutes, averaging 17.87 mph. I didn't know this, but training for team RAAM is more like time-trial training than long-distance training. Teams of two trade off riding 5-mile time trials for two hours, then take off two hours. At night, a team of two trades off on six-hour shifts. He said the solo riders take care never to redline their heart rate, while the team riders are always riding at the limit because they're riding such short bursts. He wondered if I've ever thought about it. I think RAGBRAI is long enough for me.

New Pinellas Trail segment is mixed bag

For months we witnessed workers squeezing traffic on First Avenue S from four lanes to three as they built out the easternmost part of the Pinellas Trail in downtown St. Petersburg. So just how is this all working out for cyclists biking through the urban setting?

Times editor and bicycling enthusiast Jim Verhulst wrote a piece for the July 27 Neighborhood Times assessing the new route. He also came up with the idea to do a helmet-cam and film what you'll see on the ride. It's a little bumpy, but then so is the ride. Here's the view:

Dispatches from Iowa: Strong as an ox

Another entry from St. Petersburg Times editor Jim Verhulst's 500-mile RAGBRAI ride.

Thursday, July 24, 2008
Day 5, Toledo-Tama to North Liberty, 76.2 miles, 3,200 feet of climb.

To preserve karmic harmony, it is only natural that yesterday's series of grace notes would be followed by something more searing than soothing for the soul. And so it was.

It was raining and cold when my alarm rang at 4:55 this morning. I had slept in arm and leg warmers. And as the rain pelted the tent, I packed up everything I could inside it before venturing out. I stalled until 5:30, at which point the rain stopped, but the cold didn't.

My friend and I set out in cool, overcast morning. I brought along arm warmers, which I pulled on shortly into the ride. After breakfast, we split up because I wanted to ride faster to keep my body core warmer. It was cold with a spitting drizzle that was chilling. It was another hilly day. Oh, did I mention the headwinds? Every flag I saw was flapping hard in our direction. It was a slog. But, I suppose, a really good training ride with some really sustained intensity.

Dispatches from Iowa: Good Samaritans

It's pretty unlikely that anyone can go 500 miles in one week without a few setbacks along the way. Keep reading to find out how St. Petersburg Times editor Jim Verhulst handled them during his RAGBRAI ride.

Wednesday, July 23, Ames to Toledo-Tama, 77.9 miles (but only 65 for me. You'll have to keep reading to find out why.)

 

It was a day of days. It was a day filled with so much kindness that I hesitate to start with this fact, but it's true: There is at least one very, very naughty person in Iowa. As we left Ames this morning we began to see cyclist after cyclist at the roadside, bike overturned, flat tire under repair. After seeing several score of them (yes, that many) we found out that someone had spread tacks on the road on the route from Ames to Nevada and Colo and possibly beyond.

The police were not happy, judging by the number of patrol cars with lights flashing heading the opposite way to address the issue. I didn't see, but heard from several people that road sweepers with some sort of magnet had been dispatched to deal with the problem. Whoever did it certainly doesn't understand the seriousness of a blowout on a fast descent. When I pulled into Green Mountain, about 23 miles from today's end, a grandfather working the fire station's lunch tent said he had heard about the flats from rider after rider. He tsked-tsked and then said, "That's not Iowa."

 

Before I get to "what is Iowa," allow me a quick digression for today's travelogue. We passed through the small town of Colo, "the crossroads of America," where the Lincoln and Jefferson highways intersect. Then we next rode through State Center, which is (guess what?) the geographic center of Iowa. They have marked the spot, and you can stand on it.

After passing through Albion, I cycled through Green Mountain, but not before asking a local where Green Mountain got its name. I know, as does any rider on RAGBRAI, that Iowa has many, many hills and rollers, but a mountain? Not true. Green Mountain, he was pretty sure, was named after the Green Mountains of Vermont. He couldn't remember why for certain - he thought maybe the founder had come from that region - but he had the book at home and would look it up later to jog his memory.

 

Dispatches from Iowa: The power of RAGBRAI

Another update from St. Petersburg Times editor Jim Verhulst as he makes his way across Iowa.

Tuesday, 56.8 miles. From Jefferson to Ames, Iowa.

 

What is the power of RAGBRAI? It can stop speeding trains. A huge freight train was held on the tracks this morning to allow all of us riders to pass. Another example: At last night's beer garden in Jefferson (don't worry, I was on the outside looking in and I left at 9:30, my RAGBRAI curfew), a great cover band played tune after tune and invited audience participation. One RAGBRAI rider went up on stage and bench-pressed the band leader's 21-year-old daughter, and then played a mean harmonica before returning to the audience. Those, my friends, are examples of the power of RAGBRAI.

 

After yesterday's century, we had an easy recovery day with only one major hill, which wasn't nearly as bad as everyone was saying it would be. My riding partner and I took the day as an easy spin recovery day.

 

Some people wonder if all of the towns in Iowa have only a few hundred people. Not true - some have fewer. We almost missed breakfast this morning when tooling through Dana, not realizing it WAS Dana, because it seemed like a collection of a couple of houses. Had we not stopped it would have been another 16 miles before we had another chance to eat. Actually, Iowa has some sizable towns - Des Moines, Davenport and, of course, Ames, where we are tonight. It's the home of Iowa State University and a huge college town. Folks cheered us all the way into town with even more enthusiasm than usual. It's hard to keep the governor on the speed on a recovery day when everyone is so enthusiastic.

 

About 30 miles into the ride this morning we came into Ogden and saw a patch of the original Lincoln Highway, Route 30, in front of City Hall and next to what once was a Standard Station that was done in that really cool art deco (I think; I'm not good with architecture) style. Someone had walked across the wet cement back in 1929 and the footprints are still there. Not so the commerce that once came with a major road. It's easy to see what the Lincoln Highway once meant, and having been superseded by Interstate 80 has done to all of these small towns that have literally been passed by. Really nice people, but they all want you to move there and help restore what once was.

 

In Boone, the penultimate town of the day, we ate an early lunch (9:30 a.m.) at Dixie's Diner. There really is a Dixie, but she was working the upstairs room today, and we ate downstairs. We asked the woman who served us what the major businesses in town are: the railroad (no joke, trains are always going through) and, once upon a time, coal mines. She said there were lots of old mines around the area.

 

As we rolled into Ames, a pickup passed us and a young woman (when you're nearing 50 everyone under 25 looks pretty much the same age, so I can't guess with any specificity) leaned out the window and yelled, "I like your butt." I had half a mind to sprint up and say, "Missy, you shouldn't talk that way to someone old enough to be your father." But whatever her intent, I decided to take it as a compliment and the value of bicycling for conditioning.

 

A note: Someone asked about my old Bianchi. It was a beautiful celeste frame with Campy Nuovo Record derailleurs and friction downtube shifters. But a year and a half ago, I crashed it in the rain on the Snell Isle bridge, and my bike shop suggested that I change frames. The frame is still in my attic, as I can't bear to part with two decades of cycling partnership (I got it in 1987), but here's my ride now:

A blue Serotta CSI with a Campy Centaur 10-speed group and Campy Proton wheels. At a stop today, another rider saw it and asked if Ben (Serotta, the frame builder) built it himself as a custom job. I said yes, but for someone else. I bought the frame second hand from my bike shop. I like quality, but I'm cheap at heart.

 

Best,

Jim

Pssst.... Critical Mass. Tampa. Friday.

Meet at Lowry Park at 6:30 p.m., rolling at 7. Lights and helmets are encouraged.

This event is open to riders of all skill levels and demographics. The atmosphere is meant to be welcoming, casual, and assertive (not aggressively taking back the streets, animosity to cars is discouraged). 

P.S. Festiveness is encouraged!

Dispatches from Iowa: Bad night, great day

An ongoing update from Times editor Jim Verhulst's adventure across Iowa.

It was the worst of nights and the best of days. Last night we were camped at a fairgrounds in Harlan, when at 2 a.m., the P.A. announced that storms and severe weather were expected within half an hour. They suggested that those of us in tents - that would be all of us - think about moving to the cattle barn. Nearly all of us stayed with our tents, and a few lost theirs. The wind was blowing incredibly hard, and the rain fly of my tent was whipping up and down but it didn't fly away. The storm passed by 3:15 a.m. or so but by then the night's sleep was pretty much shot.

So I headed out this morning at 6 with limited expectations on the day. I decided to do the century loop even on a few hours' sleep (the loop added 17 miles to the day's 83 to make it a century), and I didn't regret the choice. It was hilly but just gorgeous. No bad headwinds as we had two years ago. Because no pace lines formed there would be no century PR as a result, but it was worth it.

I was able to enjoy the scenery rather than focus on the wheel in front of me. Rolling farmground, streams, a beautiful sunrise of soft blue fingers of light. Just perfect, a luscious tapestry. Lots and lots of climbs but they weren't really that bad. It helped a great deal, though, that I trained for them back in St. Pete (low-cadence high-gear repeats to build power; intervals into headwinds; lots of work on the Misener Bridge). I'm riding a racing cassette, and the bottom gear saw a fair amount of action today, but never did I feel in much difficulty. It was just a great cruise with a tailwind part of the time.

 

Best sign on the road today: "What happens in the cornfield stays in the cornfield." True that.

 

Best team names: A tie between the Mating Slugs of Grinnell College and the Donner Party ("We eat the slow ones.")

 

Along the road we saw some of the damage from last night's storm. Several fields of 6-foot-tall corn were basically flattened. And we passed a grain bin that was crushed like a tin can (they pretty much ARE tin - well, steel - cans) in a ditch on the side of one road. On the other side of the road in a cornfield lay the crumpled roof of the bin. It was obviously nasty there. We heard reports of 80 mph winds in one town.

 

Best,

Jim

Dispatches from Iowa: A RAGBRAI update

St. Petersburg Times editor Jim Verhulst poses with his bike after completing the 2007 RAGBRAI.

If it's late July, you can wager St. Petersburg Times editor Jim Verhulst won't be in the office. Once again he's back in Iowa on just another 7-day, 500-mile bike ride known as the (Des Moines) Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa. Heading into its 36th year, the ride is fully supported and immensely popular. The total number of cyclists must be capped at 8,500 each year.

Jim is going to keep us updated on his progress throughout the week. Here's his first installment:

Today we rode from Missouri Valley to Harlan, 58.9 miles and 3,800 feet of climbing. It was a surprisingly easy day, no wind and nice weather, particularly with a 6 a.m. start. I'm getting ahead of myself, but when we got to the end town, Harlan, we saw a cafe/bar (a biker's bar?) and you know you're in a cyclists' place when it says "shirts optional, no uncovered cleats." The hospitality of Iowans continued apace today. I'm writing this on a borrowed laptop as a friend gets his legs massaged. The masseuse just asked me to say she was a very nice person with a Red Sox Santa hat. When I mentioned that I came from Tampa Bay Rays' territory, she took off the stocking cap and said just say it was a nice person wearing a bandanna (which she had on underneath the other cap). She also wanted everyone to know the therapeutic value of a good professional massage!

After we started rolling this morning, we went about 25 miles before we stopped to eat breakfast at the fire station in Underwood and had smoky links, all-you-can-eat pancakes and ... Tang. I hadn't had the drink of astronauts since the 1970s or maybe 1960s, but, you know, it wasn't bad.

Another town on the route today, Shelby, did it right and had a sense of fun in welcoming riders to town. They had old Burma Shave-style signs on the approach to town - my favorite was "Looking for Shelby; you're getting warmer; look for the clarinet-playing peacock farmer."

The views today were breathtaking: field after field of beautiful terraced corn and soybeans flowing off into the distance. 

And the people of Iowa were great as always, sitting out in lawn chairs to cheer us as we went past.

A note about last night: It was a neat tableau of fireflies, then a chorus of frogs, then lightning (which didn't end up in either a storm or even rain, oddly). A cool breeze made for a good night's sleep for those of us who could ignore the trains and their whistles, which came through town at least every 15 minutes. It's a major route for freight trains.

 

After a camp shower in a portable cabana and a bit of laundry in a sink at the fairgrounds, we headed for town to load up on carbs for tomorrow. An all-you-can-eat buffet did the trick. It's funny how after a cyclist has ridden so many miles, they often won't walk a few blocks to the bike expo each day but will wait for a shuttle. Maybe they're saving their legs for tomorrow.

Tomorrow is a tough day of hills - a solid mile of elevation gain on the day. Part of the route and the gaps (and therefore the water breaks) between towns is very similar to Day 2 in 2006. Tomorrow is also longer, but with any luck we won't have the headwinds we had then. In a Q&A in today's Des Moines Register, one of the questions referred to that infamous day from two years ago as the Death March. They promise more water stops this time, but they can make no promises about the hills or the headwinds.

A final thought from Harlan, Iowa. As we waited in line for an hour at the senior center for a pasta dinner (carbo loading), we moved slowly past glass cases including donated collections of Crayola crayon boxes from over the years, toy tractors and salt shakers from across the nation. Then we saw an engraving on the wall (apparently the senior center was the high school in a former life) that said "If every youth could have the good fortune of growing up in Harlan, Iowa, the world would forever enjoy friendship, responsibility, peace and prosperity," signed CG. "Turk" Therkildensen, Class of 1955.

With that closing thought, have a good night.

Best,
Jim

Pinellas Trail extension popular before official opening

By Mariana Minaya, Times Staff Writer
In print: Wednesday, June 18, 2008

The downtown extension of the Pinellas Trail won't officially open until next month, but that hasn't stopped bicyclists from using it.

Take Maurice Haynes, who parked his gas-guzzler pickup after gas prices hit $4 and started riding his beach cruiser to work at the city's water resources department.

He loves using the 2.1-mile extension, which runs from 34th Street to First Avenue S to the downtown St. Petersburg waterfront.

"It's a safe way to travel on your bike because I remember coming up, you had to dodge cars," said Haynes, 28, who lives in Childs Park and rides to his check-in station on Burlington Avenue.

"People need a spot to safely ride their bikes, especially with gas prices," he said. "I think it was perfect timing. It really was."

David Segler's motivation for using the trail is more social than economic.

The 16-year-old teen takes it to visit friends and perform bike tricks along the landscaped medians without having to worry about cars.

"I love it," said Segler, a rising sophomore at Boca Ciega High School who lives in St. Petersburg. "It gives me enough space to go really fast."

The city won't start tracking ridership numbers until the extension officially opens, but on one recent Sunday morning, city transportation and parking director Joseph Kubicki noticed at least 20 people riding the extension.

"We've been kind of monitoring, and it's been getting good use," he said.

Nathalia Estrada, 24, an employee at Local Coffee + Tea on First Avenue S, said she sees about four or five cyclists using the extension in front of the restaurant in the early morning and again at 5 p.m.

And, "I've seen five cars accidentally drive on the trail," she said.

On July 12 there will be a ribbon-cutting for the extension, which cost $6-million, mostly in federal funds.

"All the traffic signs have not been activated, all the crosswalks have not been completed yet," Kubicki said. "It's very close, but not done yet."