The Great Tractor Race Across Iowa
Iowa in the summer. The air is filled with the scent of fresh corn, the chirping of crickets, and the unmistakable roar—well, more like a gentle purr—of a hundred tractors revving up for the annual Great Tractor Race Across Iowa or GitRAI. For those unfamiliar, imagine the Indianapolis 500 but replace the sleek race cars with behemoths that top out at a brisk 15 miles per hour. It’s not so much a race as it is a leisurely stroll with competitive undertones, but don’t let that fool you—things get wild.
Organizing the Mayhem
“Ensuring everything runs smoothly is no small feat,” says race official Karen Davis. “We’ve had everything from mechanical breakdowns to wayward cows on the track. But that’s what makes it fun and unpredictable.”
The Course and Competitors
This year the race starts in Sioux City and winds its way east through miles of scenic cornfields, sleepy towns, and the occasional bewildered cow to Dubuque on the shores of the Mississippi. The participants are a colorful lot, ranging from lifelong farmers to city slickers who’ve barely seen a tractor outside of a John Deere calendar.
Take, for instance, Earl “Speedy” Thompson. Earl’s been racing since the event started 40 years ago. His tractor, lovingly named “Old Bessie,” has more duct tape than paint, and its exhaust pipe is held together with a combination of hope and baling wire. Speedy, despite his name, has never actually won the race. But that doesn’t matter to Earl. For him, it’s about the journey, not the destination. Well, that and the beer tent at the finish line.
Or meet Mabel “The Machine” Jenkins. At 82, she’s the oldest competitor in the race, and her tractor, “Old Blue,” is only slightly younger. Mabel’s secret weapon is a thermos of coffee so strong it could fuel a rocket launch. “I’ve been racing since before some of these young whippersnappers were born,” says Mabel with a twinkle in her eye. “Old Blue and I may not be the fastest, but we sure know how to have a good time.”
Over there is Bob “Nitro” Nelson, whose tractor has a custom paint job featuring flames and a horn that plays the first few notes of “Free Bird.” Bob’s never won, but his tractor is the loudest, which counts for something in these parts.
Challenges on the Route
The course is a challenge, not because of treacherous terrain or hairpin turns, but because of its excruciatingly slow pace. A highlight of the route is the famous “Corn Maze Curve,” a bend so tight that it requires the kind of maneuvering normally reserved for parallel parking in Manhattan. It’s a true test of skill—or at least patience.
And then there’s the notorious “Mud Pit Stretch.” Every year, one section of the race suffers from flash Iowa summer squalls and turns into a tractor quagmire that swallows up vehicles and dreams alike. Last year, half the field got stuck, and the local fire department had to deploy their biggest hoses to rescue them. This year, they’re prepared with an entire team of tow trucks on standby. It’s less about finishing the race and more about surviving it.
Community Involvement
“Our town looks forward to this race all year,” says Mayor Hank Grady of Iowaville, one of the towns the race passes through this year. “It’s a chance for us to show off our hospitality and our quirky sense of humor. Plus, it’s not every day you see a parade of tractors rolling through town.”
Legendary Pit Stops
The pit stops are legendary, not for their efficiency but for their sheer absurdity. Instead of the slick tire changes and fuel refills seen in professional racing, you’ll witness the swapping out of hay bales, a quick oil top-up from a vintage can, and sometimes, just sometimes, a farmer’s wife handing over a fresh-baked pie. Nothing says race day like a blueberry pie pit stop.
Tractor Fashion
And the fashion? Think NASCAR meets the county fair. There are custom paint jobs featuring flames, eagles, and even one with a full-on mural of Donald Trump in a trucker hat. Drivers sport everything from overalls to Elvis costumes, making the entire event look like a bizarre wedding procession moving at the pace of a sedated tortoise. One memorable contestant from Clear Lake, Frank “The Flash” Miller, races in a full tuxedo, claiming it gives him an air of sophistication as he navigates his tractor, “Classy Chassis,” down the track. His bow tie, it must be noted, has a tiny John Deere logo on it.
Spectator Enthusiasm
Spectators line the route with lawn chairs, coolers, and enough mosquito repellent to fumigate a small country. They cheer, wave, and occasionally offer moral support (and iced tea) to the drivers. It’s not uncommon to see families setting up camp and making a day of it, complete with picnics, barbecues, and enough corn on the cob to feed a mid-sized nation.
Often you’ll hear someone bellow unsolicited advice. “Keep her steady, Earl!” and “Watch out for that pothole, Mabel!” echo through the air, mingling with the gentle hum of tractor engines and the occasional moo from a curious cow. The atmosphere is one of jovial camaraderie, where everyone is rooting for everyone else and the only real competition is who brought the best picnic spread.
“I’m gonna race one day, just you wait!” says young Timmy Parker, eyes wide with excitement. “I’ve already started fixing up Grandpa’s old tractor. It’s gonna be the fastest one ever!”
The Finish Line
As the tractors putter towards the finish line in Dubuque, the atmosphere is electric—or as electric as it can be at 15 miles per hour. The winner, who is usually determined more by who avoided breaking down than by actual speed, gets the coveted Golden Hawkeye Trophy. It’s a gaudy, oversized monstrosity that would look out of place anywhere but in a race celebrating agricultural machinery.
The Real Spirit of the Race
In the end, the Great Tractor Race Across Iowa isn’t really about winning. It’s about community, tradition, and the sheer joy of doing something so gloriously ridiculous that it could only make sense in the heart of America’s farmland.
“It’s like watching paint dry, but in the most entertaining way possible,” laughs spectator Mary Lou from Des Moines. “I come every year, and it’s always the highlight of my summer. There’s something magical about seeing these old tractors chugging along.”
So, if you find yourself in Iowa next summer, take a detour from the beaten path and witness the slowest, most entertaining race you’ll ever see. Bring a lawn chair, some bug spray, and maybe, just maybe, a fresh pie for Earl. He’ll appreciate it.
