RAGBRAI - A Journey Through Iowa

About 12,000 years ago, when glaciers resting on the grounds of Iowa began to melt away, they left behind silt, which was then sculpted by the wind into the rolling hills we see today. I learned about the uniqueness of these hills from a local as I sat down with the obligatory Dutch apple pie I had bought that morning. It was intimidating to learn that the hills I would be ascending for the rest of the week were among the deepest of their kind. However, being surrounded by kind, energetic, bike enthusiasts radiating their "Iowa nice" energy doesn't let you lose your confidence for long.

Before RAGBRAI, I hadn’t really owned or ridden bikes much. Participating in RAGBRAI was a last-minute decision, and the week had many firsts lined up for me: my first time riding a bike, my first time fixing one, and my first time camping. With just two days until the start of RAGBRAI, I got a second-hand Panasonic bike from Facebook Marketplace. One of my fondest memories from RAGBRAI will always be learning the mechanics of a bike and repairing it myself. It’s a special feeling to see simple metal parts come together to create a complex mechanical device and to feel in control of that machine.

The first day of RAGBRAI was planned to be about 42 miles long with a total ascent of around 2,500 feet. We started from the city of Glenwood, heading out on our bikes at the first light of day. With daybreak came a thick layer of fog that gently settled in the valleys of the rolling hills. Most of the first few hours were spent tackling hill after hill, ascending with determination and descending back to the feet of another. After about two hours, we reached our first stop of the day: Silver City. This would become my favorite stop of the entire ride. We were welcomed by a local band singing country songs, to a town with a population of just 250, homemade pies, and an old single-occupancy jail room.

The rest of the day, and the days that followed, became quite rhythmic, with a pattern of biking up and down hills for two hours, followed by some of the most rewarding and delicious homemade food I’ve ever had. Of particular joy throughout the journey were the serendipitous interactions with people I might never have met otherwise. From a simple smile and greeting as we passed each other to heated discussions over lunch, meeting locals and fellow riders is something I will miss dearly. Especially the moments when experienced riders realized this was my first RAGBRAI; I would be showered with encouragement and advice, much like a child being guided by their elders.

Reflecting on the days of the ride, memories of foggy sunrises, endless cornfields, and rolling hills dotted with wildflowers stand out clearly. In the cult classic film "Field of Dreams," set in Iowa—a movie I have yet to see—there’s a famous exchange between the protagonist living in Iowa and a figure of his father: “Is this heaven?”, “It’s Iowa”, “Iowa? I could have sworn this was heaven.” While I’m always amused by this, if your idea of heaven is one of peace, calm, and a richer version of the Windows XP default wallpaper, then Iowa might just be heaven for you.

“Is this heaven?”, “It’s Iowa”, “Iowa? I could have sworn this was heaven.”

I am convinced that the beauty of this scenery is most rewarding when viewed from the seat of a bike. The deliberation and slowness that biking through the hills brings to the experience should be studied scientifically. It’s as if you are watching the ground beneath you drop away and the hills merge into each other as you pass through. It would not be an exaggeration to say that it was, after all, quite a challenging ride. With miles of road ahead of you, flowing up and down over the hills, at times, all you could think about was whether you had the energy to make another ascent. But during these moments, as you found others around you powering through, the sound of nature echoing through the hills, the next homemade pie waiting for you a few miles away, and the promise of an exhilarating descent from the top of the hill, you forget your worries and finally understand why, after all, Sisyphus might have been smiling as he pushed that rock up the hill.