Mike Conklin's Diaries - Part 6 - The Hills
Repeat after me three times. There ARE hills in Iowa. There ARE hills in Iowa. There ARE hills in Iowa. You can be assured of this. Just ask any RAGBRAI veteran.
Most urbanites are not familiar with Iowa terrain. Their only experience is driving through the state on Interstate 80 in a hurry to get to Aspen or Vail. Typically, they do not spend time observing the countryside. These are the same people who think the Amish live in the Amana Colonies. They don’t.
Not only are there many hills in Iowa, I am sorry to inform our RAGBRAI newcomers that no amount of bicycle riding in the Chicago area totally prepares you for them. They come in a variety of shapes and sizes, too.
There are the rollers, which go on and on for miles and miles. These make it possible to coast halfway up one side, but only if you reach high rates of speed on the down slope. Last year, one rider was killed when his bike, traveling at a high rate of speed going down a roller, got caught in a crack and he went flying
Then there are hills in classes by themselves—hills so bad they have names such as Pilot Mound, The Heart Attack, Mt. Sagmore, Gut Buster, and my favorite—the Stone City Crushers. These feature long, steep climbs that seem to never end. They will have you shifting to the lowest gear possible and wishing you had even lower gears.
You will notice something eerie about this second class: Though there may be hundreds of riders on them at the same time, there will be complete silence because everyone is completely focused on making it to the top. The only sounds will be occasional cursing, grunting, and heavy breathing. You will be going so slow flies and mosquitoes can keep pace.
It is no coincidence that RAGBRAI ambulances frequently station themselves at the tops of these monsters. Two years ago, and I am not making this up, several CUBS got to the summit of one and rode past the spot where another biker—just minutes before them—keeled over from a heart attack at the very feet of Pork Chop Man. The ambulance was pulling out as we arrived.
Generally, the monster hills loom at the end of a long, flat straightaway. This means you can see them coming for miles. This is to help to build up dread and anxiety. It also means there is little chance to build up speed because undoubtedly the wind probably will be in your face.
Some of these monsters feature diabolical characteristics that you do not become aware of until it is too late. For instance, the Stone City Crusher, which I encountered on my first RAGBRAI, started with a steep, 1½-mile decline. But halfway down, there is a subtle curve to the right that makes it easy at high rates of speed to drift to the left and into the paths of others or, worse, straight into the ditch.
At the Crusher’s bottom, just when you ordinarily would reach maximum speed, there is a 90-degree turn to the right. Thus bikers must come almost to a complete stop to avoid riding into the ditch. Then, after a quarter-mile of flat riding, you must climb an equally long, steep hill with no momentum.
Fortunately for rookies, this year’s route across northern Iowa figures to be relatively flat. The Iowa hills are always worse in the southern portion of the state. There are always hills near the Mississippi River, but, by then, your adrenaline will be high with the finish line in sight.
