Assault and Century

On Saturday morning I woke up in the dark before my alarm went off. I felt good, despite having one too many beers once again on a Friday night. At 5:30AM I pulled on my bibs and put sunscreen on while I ate cereal and toast with peanut butter. The crunchy stuff. It was still chilly so I went with arm warmers, but no knee warmers, as I thought the day would warm quickly. Plus I also had two jerseys on. I decided to test the "six pockets, no bags" approach that I got from Steve. And I think he said he got it from Ira.

I rolled out the door a few minutes before 6. I briefly stopped by the public library to return some DVDs and then rolled east toward dirt. I got a little twisted around leaving town and ended up riding the shoulder on Rochester for a mile or so. I didn't think this was a good sign, but the sun was already shining on my face and there were no cars out, so that felt good.

I turned north and followed the same route as last weekend for awhile. Instead of looping east and over to West Branch, though, I decided to keep going north. I got near Sutliff and found myself on a bunch of gravel roads that I had never been on before. These were beautifully treed roads and they were very, very hilly. Not as hilly as the route I will encounter in Kansas, but the hills were large enough that I had to settle into a climbing rhythm on a few of them.

After tacking on a short loop up north I turned west and headed into the strengthening northwest wind. This road was much flatter and took me almost directly to Ely. Ely has a Casey's, and I have really come to rely on these for food stops. I quickly filled my bottles with water (no sugar, bad for the tummy) and downed an egg and sausage pizza before getting back to the gravel.

I continued to ride west and occasionally a little north. I skirted around the Eastern Iowa Airport, found lots of more new gravel, and finally turned south for some nice tailwind into the Amana Colonies. The Casey's in Amana was disappointing. No pizza. So I got some caffeine in the form of a sugary and fatty Starbucks drink and loaded up on cheesy crackers. When I checked out the clerk looked at me, sweaty, salty, helmeted, and holding crumpled bills in my gloved hands, and asked, in all seriousness, if I had any gas too. I was confused and could only reply with, "uh, no."

The gravel back towards Iowa City was sandy and bumpy. This is where I hit a little bit of a low point. My legs and lungs felt great, and my average speed was still going up. But I was grumpy. I just kept swearing at all the bumps and hills. I figured it was best to just keep eating, so I did, and I think that helped. I also had a big rise when I scored this sweet road prize:

I had just started riding on pavement as I finished my 80+ miles on gravel, so the pavement and beer find were definite bonuses. I'm not really a light beer kind of guy, but I sure wont turn them down.

I came in on the oh so popular IWV. Just a couple miles out of Iowa City a beige Ford Taurus buzzed me quite closely. Closer than I had been buzzed in years. His mirror was inches from my handlebar. I flipped him off after he passed to let him know that I did not appreciate his driving style. Normally I am a fan of the smile and wave approach, but this time I was tired and frustrated.

He slowed down and found a place to pull over on the next hill. I was not really in the mood for a rules of the road discussion, as I had about 96 miles and 6 hours in my legs. He stepped out of his car and came rushing at me in the middle of the lane screaming about how if I flip him off I better be able to back it up physically. This was definitely not going to be a discussion, but I proceeded anyway, telling him how buzzing me with his car is playing games with my life. In truth, I didn't really have time to get that out before he swung at my face with his right hand.

Thankfully I had taken Tae Kwon-Do as a sophmore at the University of Iowa. And even though I was tired and that class was 8 years ago, I quickly leaned back and to the right and threw my left arm up in the classic block move. My forearm pushed his punch wide and his fist barely struck my shoulder.

At this point I dropped my bike, jumped into the low ditch on the side of the road, and ran up the other side onto some poor woman's lawn. I had my cell phone out and was dialing 911. This irked the old man and he just kept screaming and then picked my bike up, raised it over his head, and threw it down into the ditch. He did not chase me anymore, but he did throw some dirt at me. He missed.

When the very friendly Sheriff showed up my assailant had already fled. I spoke with the officer and so did a very nice person in a truck who saw the whole thing and gave me his card. He is a defense attorney. I doubt anything will come of it all, but I will be sure to keep you posted if/when I hear back from the Sheriff.

After all that excitement I rolled home with a wobbly front wheel and the lovely Robin had lunch waiting for me. She is so wonderful. I was still a little shaken, but I quickly ate and showered and we were off to Chicago to see my family and pick up Robin's sister Meryl. This post is getting a bit long, so I will have to cut it short, but I will end with a map of the ride. Since many of the roads were new to me, I don't think this map is completely correct, but you get the idea.

Oh yeah, the ride was just barely over a century. 100.3something. It took me 6 hours and 20 minutes of riding and about 7 hours with the whole assault thing.