9:35am

That’s when I rolled the front tire of Ol Yeller into the Mississippi River at LeClaire. What we had started in Missouri Valley one week ago, we had completed. Our 12th RAGBRAI was in the books. A good, satisfying feeling.

I think much along the same lines as Jim Stockbrige of New Mexico.  Jim is a hand cyclist. Several years ago an injury took away most of the  use of his legs, so he “pedals” across the state with his arms and hands.  Not easy. But Jim, who just finished his sixth ride, says it is a “goalpost” every year to measure his physical condition. His physical condition is pretty darn impressive.  

There are also plenty of smiles and shouts of joy as riders dip their front tires in the big river.

Doug Welsh of Cincinnati said his first RAGBRAI was “just a fabulous time. The people of Iowa are absolutely terrific!”

Andy Godard of Boca Raton, Florida said there were “no strangers” during the week. “Your state has the most incredibly nice, wonderful, warm, charming people. It was my first RAGBRAI and I am just psyched by the whole thing.”

Aside from the day some  genius dumped tacks on the road between Nevada and Colo, causing hundreds of flat tires, RAGBRAI XXXVI was a good ride. We dodged some big storms out west, rode the big hills early in the week and never had to put up with suffocating heat.  The last day we actually had a tailwind and a fast, flat track.

If you ever want to see our state, I mean REALLY see it, and the great people and towns in it, give RAGBRAI 37 some thought.

In closing, thanks for reading this stuff. Thanks to TV9 photo journalist Matt Nelson who has teamed with me five times on this journey across the state and thanks to Ol Yeller. She will not be replaced.

I did not ride RAGBRAI Thursday because I was covering the Big Ten football media day in Chicago. It gave me a chance to reflect on this year’s ride and some of the neat things that are going on.

Over the years RAGBRAI has reached out to different causes. The year after 9/11 members of the New York fire department were honored on the ride.
RAGBRAI has also been a platform for Lance Armstrong and his LiveStrong Foundation.

This year RAGBRAI is focused on helping Iowa flood victims. A special bandanna is being sold for $10. The money is going to the Embrace Iowa 2008 Disaster Fund. Additional funds were raised Tuesday night at a concert in Ames.

Pastafari, a longtime vendor on RAGBRAI, is also chipping in. Ben Anhalt and Ben Irvine are donating 5% of their profits to the Cedar Rapids Library which was hammered by the flood. Anhalt and Irvine both live on the East Coast, but graduated from Wash and wanted to help their home town.

And then there is Jeff Allard of Cedar Rapids. He was all signed up and pumped up to ride his first RAGBRAI but pulled out because he felt people needed help. He volunteers a lot. We saw him removing sandbags at City Park in Iowa City. Allard says he will ride next year but for now there are more important things to do.

Great to see that RAGBRAI and those involved have not forgotten those who are hurting.

PS. Ol Yeller will be back on the road Friday for the trek to Tipton.

Now I know what the two zeros in Colo stand for (and this is no reflection on the town which put out the welcome mat for RAGBRAI riders Wednesday morning.)

The two zeros represent the IQ of the person or persons who spread a ton of tacks on the road between Nevada and Colo.

Tacks and bike tires are not on good terms with each other. Hundreds of riders had their morning ruined by flat tires.

Tom and Bruce Newgard, brothers from California, were among those pumping up a tire on the road side. “Pretty rotten thing to do,” observed Tom. “Awfully juvenile. Immature.”

“I hope they catch the guy,” chimed in Bruce as he pumped up his tire.

For a while, riding your bike was like tiptoeing through a mine field. In the end, those of us who avoided the tacks and flat tires were just lucky.

Word of the incident had already spread to LeGrand when I arrived at 11am. They were talking about it as I picked out a piece of red raspberry pie.

As a nice lady handed me a fork, she reacted to news of the incident. “Oh my, that isn’t Iowa.”

Unfortunately for one day and in one place, it was.

(I will not be on today’s ride to North Liberty.  I am in Chicago for the Big Ten football media day. Ol Yeller will be back on the road Friday for the trek from North Liberty to Tipton.)

You never know who you will run into on RAGBRAI. In just three days I have renewed old friendships and made new ones. Talking and riding is a surefire way to make the time go by.

I rode several miles on Tuesday with Iowa State Athletic Director Jamie Pollard.  He had started the day at 5:30 in Jefferson and made it look easy.  He had no problem with the BIG HILL of the day.

The same can’t be said of Ol Yeller and your’s truly. Halfway up, when it started going vertical, I reached down to shift into 6th gear (the lowest gear I like to use). Something snapped! Ol Yeller slipped  into tenth gear. It’s like dropping your car into reverse when you meant to find foward.

To bring her out of the stall, I quickly shifted to the small front sprocket, came out of my seat, and started pumping like crazy.I did not want to be seen walking up the hill.  That’s when wearing a TV9 shirt is a real liability.

Bottom line: We cleared the summit and rode to a repair stand in Boone.

I asked the expert what was wrong with Ol Yeller.  “It shouldn’t be on RAGBRAI,” he responded.

I did’nt know I was going to run into a comedian.

Monday’s wake-up call came mighty early. At 2am weather sirens sounded in Harlen and loud speakers urged campers to head for shelter.  High winds, heavy rain, and possibly hail were bearing down on Harlan.

Just as we had done three years earlier when deadly weather ripped Sheldon, we joined other RAGBRAI campers in the Harlan Middle School. Many brought in their sleeping bags and found refuge in dark hallways.

Fortunately, the brunt of the storm did not hit RAGBRAIVILLE. The all clear sounded at 3:10 and we returned to our tents. A good night’s rest was shot.

Monday’s ride from Harlan to Jefferson was advertised as the most challenging of the week. No arguments here. 83 miles, 5,239 feet of climb. Both will be highs for the week. For some, it might be their low point of the week.

It was a tester, but there have been more difficult days on RAGBRAI.

Tuesday it’s off to Ames. Until then I have a date with my sleeping bag.

Day one of RAGBRAI XXXVI (that’s 36 for my colleagues in the production department) is in the books.

Casy Heggen, of Coralville, who is riding with her husband Zach, called it “cake”. Apple crumb, I presume.

She was correct.  The 59 mile route from Missouri Valley to Harlan had its share of hills, but nothing that beat you down. The winds were really a non factor and probably helped on the last 15 miles to Harlan.

Harlan has a rich high school football tradition, and although there are tents all over this town, there are none on the plush, green grass at the Cyclone football field. Anyone who would dare put one up on the 50 yard line would have to answer to coach Curt anBladt and you don’t want to have to answer to the man who has coached Harlan to 10 state championships.  He might suggest midnight wind sprints as appropriate punishment.

Actually, I found the Coach to be a jolly gentleman who laughed easily.  Like the time I asked him if he ever considered riding RAGBRAI.  But Bladt is in the spirit of the event. He is hosting a group of riders from Cedar Rapids.

As far as a “scouting report” on Monday’s 83 mile route to Jefferson, the Coach REALLY laughed.  “Brace yourself Harvey, it’s a big un.  I don’t even like taking the bus to Jefferson.”

Thanks Coach.

I have finished my training for RAGBRAI. It was shortened somewhat this year by the floods. Not only were some of my routes blocked, there were just more important things to do.

Despite the fact that I have probably ridden fewer miles than in past years, I feel I am ready for the challenge ahead.

The acid test came Tuesday when I went HILL hunting.

The Mt. Vernon Road hill was a warm up.

44th Street got the old ticker ticking.

Cottage Grove had me standing on the pedals, breathing hard.

Indian Hill was Cottage Grove twice over.

And then there was Rosedale. I avoid it like beets. I don’t even like driving up it.

The problem is, it is always calling and in recent years it has been my final test.

Rosedale begins near Indian Creek and climbs to the top of a Joe Winter’s thunderhead. From the bottom you cannot see the top. (Not a good sign.)

This is no hill for heroes. For the first time all summer I slip Ol Yeller into granny gear and begin the ascent.

Gravity soon takes over. I lose all momentum.  My thighs are burning, but I dare not look up. My breathing is beyond labored. If Ol Yeller had an altimeter, it would have maxed out.

I don’t know how long all this fun lasted, but finally we reached the summit. Mt. Rosedale conquered!

I have always felt, if you can ride Rosedale, you can ride RAGBRAI.

Hope to see you on the route.