Rider Diary - core4, Iowa

Words and Photography by Geerike Schreurs

From the moment I landed in Iowa, I felt welkom. It was my very first time there, and whenever I mentioned to people that I was travelling to Iowa, they would laugh and ask, “Why there?” But I was lucky. I found a cosy Airbnb on an organic farm, and every day the host appeared with baskets of fresh groenten straight from the soil.

On Monday, I spun the legs with an easy hour near the start and finish area—rolling roads, smooth gravel, a taste of what was to come. That night, a big storm rolled in. Without thinking too much about how it might have affected the roads, I set off the next day, stubbornly ignoring the “trails closed” sign on the singletrack section. I told myself I need to see the course. It was a mistake. Wet, slippery, impossible to enjoy. Time to call it quits and head for Iowa City, where lunch with Sam from Realand was infinitely more enjoyable. He reassured me: the trails dry quickly, and the gravel would be smooth again soon.

Wednesday was back to business—another recon day, efforts to be done. Sometimes it’s beneficial to experience suffering on the course itself, to understand how race day will feel. The heat was intense, the humidity thick. Good training, I told myself, as the forecast promised even higher temperatures. Thursday and Friday, I eased off—rest, race prep, and all the little details that matter. Nutrition planning, hydration strategies, and studying the course on the computer. Waar moet ik vooraan zitten? Where do I need to be at the sharp end?

By Friday afternoon, I rolled into the core4 venue, collected my bib, and wandered through the sponsor stands. But the storm clouds returned, this time with real fury, and we were all chased home. My pre-race meal was plain—rijst with chicken—and my prayer was simple: please let the rain stop. The next morning, the announcement came. The singletrack was cut, the course adjusted for wet weather. Part of me was relieved, part of me disappointed. After all, it’s rare to see such features in gravel.

At 08:15, the women were off. Our own start, our own race. Veilig, fair, and energising. My goal was simple: have fun, race free. But gravel is never zonder verrassingen. Soon enough, we hit a B-road, low-maintenance, high-drama. Peanut butter mud. My wheels clogged until they refused to turn. Mistakes made, lessons learned. I wasn’t alone. We pushed, we scraped, we laughed at the absurdity. It shrank the front group.

At 100km came another muddy section. Somehow, I was the only one to ride through clean. I opened a gap, but then missed a turn, lost in the joy of speed on tarmac. Rosa loomed behind in aero bars, time trialling her way back, and soon we were together again, mud and all, until the very finish.

Rosa is strong—een beest—but I saw a chance in the sprint. At 150 metres to go, just before the corner, I tried to slip past. She saw it coming. She closed the door, elbowed hard, I wobbled, lost the move, and Rosa took the sprint. Second for me.

But still, tevreden. Happy with the sensations, happy with the race. The finish was gezellig—locals handing out cold towels, ice, and drinks. It was bloody hot, but the vibes were cool. Iowa surprised me. The race was one of the nicest I’ve done in the US. The scenery rolling, the people vriendelijk, the cars are respectful.

If it fits my calendar, I would return next year in a heartbeat.

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Geerike Schreurs is a Pro Gravel Athlete who rides for SD Worx Protime