I’m a cyclist who prefers riding empty gravel roads in the mountains and excursions to the beach or the coffee shop, but I’d been hearing about RAGBRAI for years and I guess I thought it might be a unique experience to round out my cycling resume. That’s how I ended up spending the last week of July riding across Iowa with a few tens of thousands of other cyclists.
RAGBRAI, the (Des Moines) Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa, is celebrating its 50th year. It was already the largest bike event in the country (perhaps the world?) and anniversary hype, combined with post-pandemic enthusiasm for getting out and doing stuff, resulted in record turnout. Reportedly, almost 30,000 people registered for it this year, though the actual numbers are hard to parse. Some people ride without registering. Some people ride for just one or two days. The 4th day, between Ames and Des Moines, was rumored to have 60,000 riders. But the last couple of days may have had many fewer as heat and exhaustion took their toll and people opted to drop out.
I came away impressed by the attraction this event holds for so many people and that so many come back to do it year after year. I suppose there were as many motivations as there were participants, but for some it was an annual ritual, an excuse to challenge themselves physically, an excuse to drink while riding their bike, or simply an opportunity to do something with an awful lot of similarly minded and equally enthusiastic people. I was really glad to experience RAGBRAI, even in a particularly crowded, longer, hotter year like this one, but am not drawn to doing it again. It was absolutely amazing and emotionally powerful to be part of something this big, but for me there are so many other, more enjoyable, ways to spend a week on a bicycle.
I’m breaking my rambling account into two parts, if only so I can include more photos (Tumblr limits me to 10 images per post). I also don’t think each day really warrants its own post - they were all much the same. The details varied, but the basic routine, the riding, the towns, the activities and the vendors, the heat and humidity, and the landscape remained fairly similar every day.
I have RWGPS (and Strava) records of 6 of the 7 days, but I’ve decided just to include the overview map. In Storm Lake, on Day Two, I accidentally packed my Wahoo Bolt into my gear bags and tossed it on the truck, resulting in the only ride in the last five years for which I don’t have a digital record!
The ride covered more than 500 miles in seven days. There was a lot of climbing. While Iowa is clearly not mountainous, it is by no means flat, and for every minute spent coasting down each hill, there are 4-5 minutes spent crawling up the next. And given the crowds, the uphills tended to bog down and even stall. And it was hot. It’s July in the Midwest, so heat is to be expected, but this week was particularly warm and unusually muggy. This was increasingly true later in the week and on Day 6 temperatures reached the high 90s and the ‘feels like’ temperature was reported to be 113. Even folks from New Orleans and Atlanta were calling the humidity ‘brutal.’
The heat and the crowded roads encouraged early starts. I generally woke in the dark to the noise of tent zippers and deflating air mattresses around 5:00, which was fine, since I found this schedule worked well for me, too. I’d pack my gear, throw it on the truck, wait in line at the portapotties (called KYBOs), then I’d grab coffee and something to eat, but I was typically riding out at 6:00 (a little before sunrise). The early start meant the riding was more pleasant, but it also meant long afternoons in camp without much shelter from the sun (and certainly no AC).
My view of the larger ride was limited by my position in the pack. I was early in the daily wave of riders, though by no means the earliest. If I had to guess, there were probably already a couple thousand folks on the road when I took off, but that means there were still more than 20,000 behind me. I suppose I was similarly positioned at the end of the day - there were already people in camp by early afternoon when I rode in (they'd usually secured the shadiest tent sites), but there thousands of others continuing to arrive well into the evening.
Each day was bracketed by the ‘overnight’ towns at each end and broken into chunks 4-5 ‘pass-through' towns along the way. The overnight towns turned into huge encampments, with all sorts of support services (food, drink, bike repair, showers, bike clothing, RAGBRAI swag). Downtown areas were turned into huge street fairs. There were concerts, including some major bands. I was part of the self-supported camping scene, but many people were staying in rented homes, hotel rooms, or family RVs that were providing support. There were groups and clubs with their own school buses and vans.
The pass-through towns were like county fairs. For each town, there was a wave of people passing through over many hours. Perhaps more people than have ever passed through the town before (RAGBRAI follows a different route, through different towns, each year). The towns are packed and everyone is walking their bikes. The main streets are lined with vendors, first aid stations, and booths with folks highlighting bike-related organizations or groups raising money for the local library or kids needing cancer treatment. Firehouses open their doors. There are places to fill water bottles. There are bands playing in the parks.
And then on the route between towns there are more folks selling Gatorade and water, handing out popsicles, and offering up the front yards of their farmhouses for shade and rest. Iowa breweries take over entire farmyards for beer tents. Every day, one passes Mr. Porkchop, Sassy Lemonade, Chris’s Cakes, and Beekman’s Ice Cream, and an assortment of other event-specific or regional vendors.
One can ride RAGBRAI using simply the services that come with your entry fee, but many people choose to go with a charter service that provides more logistical support, better food options, and enhanced services (showers, charging stations, more KYBOs). I went with the largest, Pork Belly Ventures, and was glad I did. They accommodated 1500 of us with the help of a great many staff and more than a dozen specially equipped semis that provided showers, food, gear transport, and even some air conditioned rooms for those who reserved early. The logistics of this (not just Pork Belly's, but of the entire event) were fascinating and a little overwhelming.
It was impossible for me not to constantly compare this ride to my five days crossing Iowa in 2019, on my way from Maine to Seattle. I was following a remarkably similar route, albeit in the opposite direction. I rode through Davenport, Marengo, Newton, Ankeny, Jefferson, and Carroll, all towns on this year’s ride.
But in 2019 I did it all by myself. I talked with other bicyclists - they were just fewer and farther between. I talked with folks at gas stations and restaurants and parks along the way. But when you’re on your own, your interaction with people, with towns, and with the landscape is completely different. And for me, much more pleasant and meaningful. RAGBRAI is a big party and the event itself dominates the experience.
In 2019, I was on bike paths through much of the area northeast and northwest of Des Moines (the area’s done a great job on these). But this year, the huge crowds precluded the use of the trails and we stuck to the roads. So a vast majority of riders never got a chance to ride see the High Trestle Bridge, just west of Madrid. It had been a highlight of my 2019 ride through Iowa (12 September 2019: High Trestle Bridge). There were reports it would be closed for RAGBRAI (crowding concerns), but at 8:00 am, when I crossed the trail, there were folks encouraging us to check it out. I think most riders just kept going, but I couldn’t resist the side trip and joined a small stream of folks the two miles out to the bridge (which was remarkably quiet given the thousands of riders just two miles away).
Two years later, in the fall of 2021, M and I spent two days staying in downtown Des Moines while driving across the country. I had my bike along and went for a wonderful early morning ride exploring the city. Including riding through Waterworks Park, which was was completely empty that morning (Des Moines: October 2021). It was so different to ride into the park on this trip in a slow-moving line of bicycles - huge crowds, endless fields of tents, trucks and buses, band stages small and large (Lynyrd Skynyrd was headlining that night at the main venue).
romaincrisis
theartofmadeline
kianamaiart
snowghoul
blakekathryn