- Bike Ride

On Sunday, July 24, Graceland University head cross country and track Coach Kent Allshouse (’84) and his wife Sheri (Piepergerdes, ’88), who works in the Graceland admissions office, will begin a seven-day 515-mile bike ride across the state of Iowa to raise money for scholarships and equipment for the Graceland running programs. The couple will be gathering pledges per mile or flat amount pledges for the ride event with monies going to supplement the cross country and track equipment and scholarship budgets.

“We have some of the best equipment in the conference, but it is time to update some of the pieces as well as add money to our depleted restricted scholarship fund,” said Allshouse. “Many students, and especially foreign students, come to Graceland with literally only the shirt on their back and are in great need of outside financial assistance to stay in school and pursue their dream of studying and competing as a Graceland Yellowjacket. Many such student-athletes have been multiple All-Americans, Olympic trial qualifiers and All-American scholar athletes.”

Coach Allshouse, who had hip replacement surgery last July, came up with the idea for the fundraiser while still in the hospital. “I have always been a runner and when the doctor told me I couldn’t run any more I thought of biking as an alternative,” said Allshouse. “I swore to my family, my team and to myself that the next summer I would ride across the state of Iowa. I figured this trip could not only serve as a source of needed additional funding, but as a conclusion of my physical rehabilitation. I hope that everyone will make a pledge.”

Kent and Sheri will begin their journey in Le Mars, Iowa, and finish on Saturday, July 30 along the banks of the Mississippi River in Guttenburg, Iowa. The couple will average 75 miles a day carrying all their gear on their bicycles and will camp along the way.

While Coach Allshouse said they will accept and be grateful for pledges of any amount for the event, he is hopeful that the majority of people will make a pledge of $.20 per mile or $100 dollars. Pledges will be accepted before, during and after the event. Please use this link allshous@graceland.edu to send an e-mail to Kent to submit your pledge for this great cause. Coach Allshouse thanks you in advance for your willingness to help.

Graceland head cross country and track coach Kent Allshouse and his wife Sheri (Piepergerdes, ’88) began their seven-day Graceland fundraising bicycle ride across Iowa in the northwest city of Le Mars on Sunday, July 24 and followed the R.A.G.B.R.A.I. (Register’s Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa) Route which concluded on Saturday, July 30 in the northeast city of Guttenburg located on the Mississippi River. While the Allshouses were not actually “RAGBRAI” riders they followed the same route so that they could take advantage of the mobile bicycle repair shops that travel with the riders in case of a breakdown. “Since we were without any type of support vehicle or group, Sheri and I carried nearly 70 pounds of gear including our tent, cooking stove, clothes, computer, camera, GPS unit, cell phone, MP3 player w/ speakers, food and tools on our bikes,” said Kent. “We were completely self-contained, over-weight and ready to ride.”

“I would like to thank those who have made pledges in support of this needed fundraising effort and encourage those who have not pledged yet to do so even though the ride has concluded. While the event has raised a significant amount of money we are still approximately $1,300 short of the projected goal. To make a pledge or donation just e-mail allshous@graceland.edu and include the amount you want to contribute and what you want it used for – cross country or track. I sincerely thank you for your support,” said Coach Allshouse.

Special thanks to those who have recently made pledges in support of this needed fundraising effort. If you have not made a pledge yet and would like to do so, just email allshous@graceland.edu and include the amount you want to contribute and what you want it used for…cross country or track. While the event has raised a significant amount of money we are still approximately $1,100 short of the projected goal. I want to thank you for your support. –Sincerely, Kent Allshouse

Monday began at approximately 11:20 pm on Sunday in a very dramatic way as I was awakened by flashes of light in the distant sky. I had been told earlier in the day there was a 30 percent chance of an evening thunderstorm, but no one had any idea of what was about to happen. As I listened to our weather radio and watched the approaching storm moving quickly toward us, I began to realize that this storm was going to be fairly strong. At 11:35 p.m., the lightening became intense and the ire sound of loud deep rumbling thunder added to our anxiety. Suddenly, a 60 mph wind blasted our tent and forced it flat against our bodies. Within seconds, the high winds were accompanied by torrential rains which we could feel through the tent fabric which was still pressed against us. While I was a little nervous, I wasn’t all that concerned yet as most summer storms start this way and pass by rapidly. But this storm would be different.
	At 11:40 p.m. our weather radio announced that an “intense storm” was scheduled to hit Sheldon at 11:54 p.m. Now I became concerned and began to wonder... Was the storm early? Is there actually another stronger storm coming? Then suddenly, the winds and rain seemed to calm a bit although frequent lightening still dominated the horizon. With the absence of the wind the tents fiberglass poles sprung back and our tent returned to its original shape. Sheri and I composed ourselves and made a quick assessment of the tent’s condition and determined everything to be okay. After being awaked in the middle of the night and having listened to the constant sound of water hitting the tent, our natural instincts took over—we had to go to the bathroom (tree). Neither of us was real eager to exit the tent to relieve ourselves and it was a good thing we didn’t.
Just before my watched beeped at midnight, World War III began. First the winds came. Not sustained like before, but blast after blast rhythmically pounding us like giant waves crashing against the beach. Then the lightening grew incredibly intense. It seemed as though each strike had hit our tent as the light and thunderous sounds seemed as one. No time to count one Mississippi to estimate how far away it was. When the driving rain thickened I must admit I became a bit fearful. I thought to myself that this had to resemble the sounds of living in Paris during the blanket bombings of WWII. Flashes of light, loud sounds of thunder and wind driven debris. It was crazy. As we were lying prone again with our arms stretched out holding down the tent floor as the stakes used to do before they were ripped up by the wind, I looked over at my wife and saw her arms shaking uncontrollably in fear. I rubbed her back to calm her and told her that we would get through this, but I must admit I had concerns of my own as there seemed to be no relief in sight.
	After an hour of constant pounding, I unzipped the door of the tent enough to steal a quick glimpse of the western sky to see how much was yet to come. Just as I peered through the small opening my eyes grew large. Sheri saw my face and asked, “What is it?” My response was, “Oh my goodness!” The sky had illuminated to a Windex blue color and stayed that way for four to six seconds. I have heard of St. Elmo’s fire which is a sustained blue glow associated with electrical charges and would say this appeared to be a similar phenomenon, but I was thinking more like war of the worlds type stuff.

The sounds of a police bullhorn could be heard faintly through the storm, but we could not make out what was being said. Minutes later we could hear the screams of large groups of people followed by sirens about 20 minutes later. Now we were very nervous. The weather radio updates were way behind the actual events of the storm so we turned it off in hopes of hearing better. We knew that all the RAGBRAI riders were camping two blocks away on the grounds of the high school and middle school and figured the screams were coming from there. Keep in mind that the town of Sheldon had nearly 20 thousand people roll into town Sunday night and almost all of them are sleeping in tents like Sheri and me. Many have never seen the type of storms the Midwest can offer. Sheri and I laughed at the thought that these visitors to Iowa had to be laying bricks in their tents if you know what I mean.

Finally at about 3:30 a.m. the storm had calmed to a steady light rain. We had endured four hours of the worst storm I have ever seen in my 25 years in Iowa—in a tent no less. I have seen bad storms, but never have they lasted so long with such vehemence. Finally, we could venture out to use the natural facilities and survey any damages. A quick look around inspired a salute to the Coleman Tent Company as the tent had held up exceptionally well and miraculously kept our us and our gear dry throughout the storm. Needless to say, we did not get back to sleep until about 4:00 a.m. and decided to sleep in and suffer the consequences of a late start on the next day’s 84-mile ride to Esterville.

The next morning we woke at 7:30 a.m., made coffee and ate our oatmeal while visiting with our host John Doeley. It was then that we learned that the night’s storm had left one man dead and several injured. Evidently the strong winds had sheered off a large branch which struck and killed one of three people sleeping in a tent. The bullhorn that we heard was the police evacuating the thousands of RAGBRAI campers to the high school and middle school buildings for shelter. Many campers were injured by the high winds and lost almost everything they had. After hearing of the plight of others, Sheri and I felt very blessed to have survived the storm with virtually no damage or loss. With heavy hearts, we gave thanks, packed our gear and hit the road at 10:30 a.m.

Other than the fact that we were physically and mentally exhausted from the night’s events and ran into an occasional rain, today’s ride was pretty uneventful. We rode through the towns of Archer, Primghar, Sanborn, Melvin, May City and Milford before reaching Esterville. Because of the late start we took very few breaks on the ride and even rode the last 21 miles in a pouring rain and strong head wind. Esterville is the only town on the trip that we did not have a private residence to camp at and a hot shower to use, so the heavy rain on the last 21 miles was kind of a blessing. I used the opportunity to take off my helmet and wash my hair and face with rain water as I rode.

We eventually made Esterville by 8:00 p.m. and set up camp in a beautiful park adjacent to the river which runs through Esterville. With the tent up and beds ready, we walked into town and ran into Laura Werstein who is a Graceland alum and who served as my physical therapist after my hip surgery. What a small world. Sheri and I chowed on some outstanding Chinese food and headed back to camp for a good and quiet night’s sleep.

	After a badly needed good night of sleep in Estherville, Sheri and I set off on the day’s short 62-mile ride to Algona at about 9:00 a.m. refreshed and invigorated. The ride would include only 850 feet of climb, but unfortunately, it seemed like most of that was in the first three miles. We had to ride up a virtual cliff just to get out of Estherville. The steep climb early in the ride beneath a clear sunny sky really got our blood pumping. We were happy to have good riding weather for the first time.
The ride to Algona was going to take us East and South. Of course the nice weather we were enjoying was the result of a fairly strong wind from the Southeast. In other words, we would be facing a constant head wind throughout the day. Normally, a head wind would bother me, but with the conditions we had endured to this point a head wind seemed almost nice.
	Shortly after we climbed out of town, Sheri’s bike had a small mechanical problem with the front derailleur. The screw that clamps on the derailleur cable had stripped and Sheri was stuck in low gear. Fortunately for us, I am a pack rat. The Graceland University track and field sign that I had flown behind my bike had been blown off as a result of being damaged in Sunday night’s storm. But, for no apparent reason, I kept the screw and washers used to attach the sign. Good thing I did as I was able to jury rig a set up that would allow Sheri to at least use first and second gears and finish the day’s ride comfortably. I know all the pack rats out there can relate to the satisfaction I felt having the needed part at the right time. The repair was complete in about 45 minutes and we resumed our ride.
The first stop of the day was the town of Wallingford which was 11 miles out of Estherville. The town’s people there were amazingly friendly to all the riders. It was not uncommon to have children in the street wanting a high five or entire families sitting in lawn chairs clapping as you ride by. Despite the hospitality we kept our stop short. I checked on Sheri’s derailleur cable, we filled our water bottles and headed east to the town of Ringsted which was 17 miles away.

The time was about 1:15 p.m. when we rolled into Ringsted where we decided to take an extended rest and grab an Iowa Cattlemen’s Association hamburger and a diet coke for lunch. One of the benefits of riding along with the RAGBRAI riders is that in every town and along every highway there are numerous eating and beverage options all competing for the rider’s business. Most of the towns we stay in or ride through are very much like Lamoni and all have some fundraising needs. Fundraisers for the town’s fire department and library are most common. Many towns have to compete with national chains that set up tents just outside the city limits, but it is the local food which seems to attract most of the riders. The local people cook up some the most amazing foods which seem to keep these visitors to Iowa begging for more. By the way, our burger was excellent. We rode out of Ringsted at 2:00 p.m.

After an hour ride, Sheri and I coasted into the little town of Fenton which normally boasts of a population of 649. On this day however, it would be more like 10,000. This little farm community had pulled out all the stops providing the RAGBRAI riders with a huge party and believe me it was rockin’. The big top tent was up and a rolling disc jockey truck the size of a semi was blasting tunes which had riders dancing in the streets.

Amongst the RAGBRAI riders there are many teams with amusing names and costumes. One such team called “Spin” wore entertaining jerseys and long purple hair wigs. They looked like they had jumped out of the book the Cat in the Hat. At one point, the team raised one of their female members above their heads as if at a Seattle mosh pit, and began to spin her like a Chinese acrobat spins a plate upon a stick. It was quite funny to watch. While the party in Fenton looked inviting, Sheri and I had really only stopped to get water and use a Kybo. Evidently, the town of Fenton is not aware of the standard Kybo to population ratio as an open door was not to be found. Sheri and I had to resort to the disciplined training employed in Sunday’s storm to make it to the next town of Whittenmore 12 miles away to find relief.

At 4:30 p.m. we hit the jackpot. Turns out that the town of Whittemore was actually more like Whitte”less” when it came to lively action. I don’t know if everyone had just stayed back in Fenton or what, but all I knew was there were a lot of Kybos and few people to use them. Ahead of schedule for the first time, Sheri and I left our mark in Whittemore and proceeded to start the last 13-mile ride into Algona.

We motored into Algona at about 6:00 p.m. and were met by a very enthusiastic welcome from the town’s people. There were balloons, banners and cheering crowds which really made us feel welcome. Of course, the people were really cheering for the RAGRAI riders and not us, but it still made us feel good.

The town of Algona was beautiful. Lots of tall old trees lined each street. The houses were nicely painted and well landscaped. Sheri and I would be camping in the yard of Mike and Annie Nerison. When we arrived at the house, the Nerisons were not home, but we were met by a note taped to the front door which invited us to use the shower, phone, computer, laundry and even help ourselves to food in the refrigerator. What makes this really neat is the fact that neither of us have ever met or spoken with Mike and Annie. They had just opened their home/yard to us. Wow. That is Iowa hospitality.

We walked into the house which was beautiful and were met by a gentleman named Dan. Dan was a RAGBRAI rider and he too was a guest at the home, but would be sleeping in a bed inside. Dan was riding as a guide for a blind gentleman named Rudy. The two were riding a bike built for two. Dan would steer and pedal lightly while Rudy would serve as the rear main engine. Rudy was a real character who had a zest for life and claimed to be Oprah’s cousin. Sheri and I really enjoyed our conversations with the two fellow guests.

Sheri and I set up camp in the yard where we had a beautiful view looking down into a wooded valley and proceeded to enjoy hot showers. Once clean, we walked downtown and had a great meal at Premier Pizza. Nachos and enchiladas really hit the spot. After dinner, we walked around a bit and marveled at the efforts Algona had gone to making all the riders stay an enjoyable one. The evening activities in Algona looked like fun with bands, food and other entertainment, but this duo was tired and chose to go to sleep. Tomorrow would be a long ride.

Want to make a donation? There is still time. If you have not made a pledge yet and would like to do so, just e-mail allshous@graceland.edu and include the amount you want to contribute and what you want it used for – cross country or track. While the event has raised a significant amount of money we are still approximately $1,100 short of the projected goal. I thank you for your support. –Sincerely, Kent Allshouse

By Kent Allshouse

	What a pleasure it was to wake up this morning after a fantastic night of sleep in Algona with the bright rays of the sun filling our tent. The sun’s 6:00 a.m. wake up call had Sheri and I poised to get cracking at today’s 84-mile ride to Northwood which is located just four miles from the Minnesota border.
As we were enjoying our morning coffee and oatmeal, our campsite quickly became a social gathering. We were joined by a RAGBRAI rider who was staying across the street named Terry. Terry was from San Diego, Calif., and was out photographing the beautiful homes of Algona. Then the owner of the house across the street whose name escapes me, added to our conversation. Turns out he is a Rugby official and remembered the old Graceland Rugby Club of the mid-1980s.
	I really enjoyed reminiscing about the good ole days on the pitch and was pleased to hear the game is still going strong. When Dan and Rudy joined in the fun the morning party was complete. How neat was this? Six people who had never known each other before today are gathered outside our tent visiting like old friends. Terry said it best when he commented, “you just don’t get this in California.” The feeling that embraced us this morning is the same feeling you get on Graceland’s campus. You just don’t get that at other universities.
Before we knew it, we had talked for over an hour and realized we better get started on the day’s journey. Sheri was finishing packing up our gear and I was giving the bikes the once over before we left. While I was checking the air pressure in my tires I noticed a half-inch long cut in my back tire. Knowing we had 84 miles ahead of us and that I had about 60 pounds of weight on that back tire, I did not want to ride without a spare.

We said thank you and goodbye to our hosts Annie and Mike at about 9:00 a.m. and set off with the hope of purchasing a new tire from one of the mobile bike repair trailers which follow the RAGBRAI riders. As luck would have it, they had already left Algona. Fortunately, there was Kmart a couple of miles away and Sheri and I headed that direction. I bought the needed tire at Kmart, but because it was already 9:30 a.m. and we still had a long ride ahead, I decided to throw the spare on the back of my bike and try to go as far as possible before having to make the change. So we took off for Northwood.

We were about three miles into the ride when a group of riders came upon us and invited us to join their pace line. A pace line or draft line is when the riders line up in a single file and ride within inches of the wheel of the rider ahead of them. The idea is for the lead rider to cut the wind while the riders behind get much easier pedaling. Well, with a lot of weight on our bikes, Sheri and I needed all the help we could get so we joined in.

The road we were on was freshly paved and smooth as silk. The pace line had grown in size and now was actually about five different lines which spanned the entire width of the road. All was great and we were really riding fast when someone yelled, “Car Back”. Car back is a highly encrypted code which means there is a car behind you. Standard operating procedure is that everyone gets single file and hugs the right side of the road. But we had 30 riders all in formation and filled both lanes. Obviously, the riders in the left lane had to merge to the right to allow the car to pass. With 30 sets of wheels six inches apart and rolling at a good rate of speed, merging can be a little tricky. A rider has to stay focused on the wheel in front of them so they can react to any sudden speed changes. If a rider toward the front goes down, the whole line can go down. It is a very dangerous situation.

The merge was underway and appeared to be going smoothly when another call rang out, “Car Back.” The second car behind drew glances from riders in the front of the line which is an absolute no-no when in draft formation. As a result, the line Sheri and I were riding in suddenly slowed. I quickly applied my brakes to avoid hitting the wheel in front of me. Just then, I felt a collision with my back wheel and maneuvered to keep my balance. Once stable, I looked back to see my wife bouncing off the pavement right in front of a car. Thankfully the car avoided hitting her, but she had hit the road very hard.

I stopped and got off my bike to see if Sheri was okay. Sheri popped up quickly which I was glad to see, but there was no missing all of the blood running down both her left hand and her chin. Because of our “G” rating, I can’t repeat exactly what she said, but Sheri’s first reaction was more anger than pain. Once the anger passed, the pain set in. Her right knee had taken a good hit on the pavement and swelled rapidly. Both knees were bleeding pretty heavily and she had a nasty cut on her right hand which probably could have taken five or six stitches. Fortunately, she did not hit her head.

As we were assessing the injuries, a gentleman by the name of Harold Peters who owned a home next to the crash site, came out to offer his assistance. Harold took a look at Sheri’s legs and said, “I guess we could get the hack saw and cut both legs off at the knees.” Harold’s comment got us both laughing. He took Sheri inside to get cleaned up while I got her bike off the road.

Harold and his wife Jeanette took exceptional care Sheri. They applied every type of old farm remedy you can think of. Harold told Sheri he wasn’t a doctor, but that he was a mechanic and knew how to fix things. Harold’s constant humor really helped take Sheri’s mind off her pain. Harold and Jeanette got Sheri iced down, cleaned up, taped up, medicated and ready to return to action. Sheri and I are very grateful for the help the Peters provided.

Although banged up, swollen and sore, Sheri was still game to complete the 81 miles of riding still ahead of us for the day. Did I marry well or what?

At 10:30 a.m., we resumed our journey with a plan to stop in each town and ice Sheri’s knees. The first stop was in Oak Lake which is a little town on a beautiful wooded lake where we got some ice from the first aid station, bought a Rice Krispies treat from a church stand and rested for about a 30 minutes listening to a local band. We repeated this process in the towns of Titonka and Woden before we stopped for lunch in Crystal Lake which was just short of the half-way point. The fire department there was selling ribeye sandwiches of which they had only three left. I think the fire chief felt sorry for Sheri because he gave her a double ribeye sandwich at no additional costs.

The good news on the day is that the winds out of the south that hindered us yesterday were a plus today as we were heading North/Northeast. The tailwind was extremely beneficial to Sheri as it provided a lot more time to coast on the bike and eased her pedaling.

Although it was already 3:30 p.m. and we were only half way to Northwood, we knew the next 29 miles was a northerly leg and we could make good time taking advantage of the strong tailwinds. We easily cruised the 13 miles to the town of Thompson and the 16 miles to Lake Mills. We averaged about 16 miles an hour with the tailwind. With 17 miles to Northwood ahead of us, we decided to take a longer break in Lake Mills. The town park was filled with activity. Everyone seemed to be having a great time dancing, eating and learning about life in a small Iowa town. At 5:15 p.m. we hit the road for Northwood.

We arrived in Northwood at about 6:45 p.m. The ride was relatively easy since the route was flat and the crosswinds had died down substantially. Sheri had endured the ride and so had my back tire. Northwood is a very clean and quaint town of 2,500 people that had instantly grown to almost 20,000. What an incredible undertaking.

Our hosts, Craig and Phyllis Lease had a yard full of campers and had even rented a kybo just for their 30 guests to use. I must admit I beamed with pride when I rode by the kybo and saw my name on the door. My own kybo. It was at that moment I knew I was big time. The small size of Northwood was problematic when it came to feeding all the riders and the lines at local church buffets were long. Sheri’s knees were not really up to standing in line so I went to the local Casey’s store and convinced the clerk to sell me five pieces of pizza that were waiting on the heated carousel for the same price as a small pizza. Score! Armed with a bag of ice for Sheri, two diet cokes and a hot pizza, I made my way back to camp.

After dinner, I walked up to the main RAGBRAI campground where I found my old friend Dave who is the owner of the Connecticut Yankee Peddler bike shop in Chariton. Graceland has purchased several bikes from Dave for students to check out from Brad Carr’s office in the MSC. I asked Dave and he agreed to work on Sheri’s bike. Sheri had broken the pedals and damaged the crank bearings in the morning’s crash. Dave repaired the bike and had it back to me by 9:30 p.m. Since it was late and we were facing another 80-mile ride the next day, I decided to deal with my tire in the morning and get some sleep.

In closing, I want to say how proud I was to be the husband of Sheri today. Good night.

Want to make a donation? There is still time. If you have not made a pledge and would like to do so, just e-mail the amount you want to contribute and which sport it should go to – cross country or track – to allshous@graceland.edu. We have raised a fair amount of donations we are still $1000 short of our projected goal. I thank you for your support. -Sincerely, Kent Allshouse

Today marks our fifth day of riding and so far Sheri and I have covered 300 miles, survived an incredible storm, pouring rain and a crash. We woke up this morning thinking, “What new adventure would present itself today as we depart Northwood and ride 78.3 miles to Cresco?”
	We had a wonderful night of sleep in Northwood in the yard of our hosts Craig and Phyllis Lease. The night air was cool and quiet which is just what we needed after the previous day’s events. I must admit that my feelings were a little hurt when I found out this morning that someone had tipped over the kybo during the night which had my name on the door. Obviously the work of someone jealous of the status I had achieved. Fortunately, Craig heard the kybo calamity and went out and restored the facility to its original luster.
The first order of business today was to replace the cut back tire on my bike. The repair did not take long and Sheri and I were ready for the road in record time. Before leaving Northwood, we visited with our hosts for a while. Craig is a retired long time track coach so the two of us had a nice “running” conversation. I even offered Craig an assistant coaching position, but Phyllis put the brakes on the idea quickly. Evidently, the Lease’s home had just under gone extensive remodeling of which Phyllis was quite fond of. She emphatically stated that they are not moving. I think Craig was flattered by the idea and enjoyed talking track again. Craig and Phyllis are two of the nicest people you could ever meet and I think we all felt a bond. After a hug goodbye from the Leases, Sheri and I took to the road.
	Our first stop today would be 11 miles down the road in the little town of Carpenter. The ride there was slightly downhill with a mild crosswind and we made it without incident. We stayed in Carpenter just long enough for Sheri to ice down her knees which were a little sore today. At about 10:00 a.m. we began the short six-mile ride to St. Ansgar. While St. Ansgar is small in population it is big on history. Upon a grassy hill over looking the quaint little town was a big beautiful stone Lutheran church. St. Ansgar, named for a French monk, is often called the “Garden Spot of Iowa” because of its thriving farmland, stately trees and colorful gardens. Sheri and I had a sense of tranquility as we rode through the town streets littered with people giving us welcoming waives from their lawn chairs. We left St. Ansgar at 11:00 a.m. and headed toward Stacyville.

The 11-mile ride to Stacyville was predominately uphill and snaked through some beautiful countryside filled with Amish farm houses and hay fields. The hard pedaling up the hills aggravated Sheri’s knees so we stopped in the town to ice down and rest in preparation for the longer uphill 17.5-mile ride to Riceville where we would lunch.

At about 2:00 p.m. we rolled into the town of Riceville which is about two-thirds of the way to our destination of Cresco. The town’s streets were lined with blooming flowers like the red lights of an airport runway which led us to the town square where a flag flying stone gazebo sat dead center (photo). The square was filled with riders, bicycles, music and the wonderful smell of onion smothered hamburgers cooking on the charcoal grill. I am sure many of you remember that smell of Donna Edgerton’s onions cooking on the concession stand grill which saturated the cool fall air that would engulf the stands at a home Graceland football game. It makes me hungry just thinking about it.

In the corner of the square there was a two-man musical group doing a great job covering Eric Clapton tunes. While standing in line for my Donna Burger, I could not help but notice the incredible dichotomy of people which surrounded me. There were the party hearty types sporting costumes and who were soaking up the music and beer as fast as it would flow. And there were the Lance Armstrong types decked out in the latest most expensive bike wear available, eating granola bars and drinking from their water bottles. It was kind of like holding football camp at Woodstock. I was struck by the fact that no one seemed to sit in judgment. Everyone had the common love of bike riding and mingled without hesitation.

As Sheri and I sat savoring our burgers, we couldn’t help but notice a bunch of boneheads standing near by. The boneheads are a group of middle aged, gut busting riders who all have big dog bones tied to the top of their helmets (photo). Not far from the boneheads were a couple of flamingos walking by (photo). The flamingos riding team sports long flowing pink feather boas. Imagine Liberace on a bicycle. One has to ask what possess a person of great maturity to dress up in costume each day. Could you imagine seeing your doctor or lawyer parading in such garb?

With our hunger for food and entertainment satisfied, we took off for Lime Springs at about 3:15 p.m. The 20-mile hilly ride would pass through the town of Saratoga and leave us a mere 14 miles out of Cresco. After a brief stop in Lime Springs, which wasn’t nearly as happening as Riceville, we headed toward Cresco.

We made it to our destination town of Cresco at 6:30 p.m. which was the earliest we had ever finished a day’s ride. With a lot of day light left, we set up camp in the yard of Kathy Messa. Like our host in Algona, Kathy was not home when we arrived, but we were greeted by a welcome note on the door. The yard was full of tents, but we found a nice location in the far corner of the yard next to the picket fence.

After a fabulous hot shower, Sheri and I set out in search of food. We found a little Italian restaurant downtown. The food was good, but the service left a little to be desired. Our server had that deer in the headlights look on her face and evidently had lost her short term memory. I had a plateful of fried chicken and Sheri had chicken alfredo.

The meal was a great way to end a perfect day of bike riding across Iowa. The weather was perfect, no one crashed and we didn’t have any mechanical problems. The lord truly smiled upon us today and I look forward to tomorrow.

Good night.

Want to make a donation? There is still time. If you have not made a pledge and would like to do so, just email the amount you want to contribute and which sport it should go to…cross country or track to allshous@graceland.edu. We have raised a fair amount of donations we are still $1000 short of our projected goal. I thank you for your support. -Sincerely, Kent Allshouse