Scenes from the course of the 2024 Quad-City Times Bix 7

The race capped off a week of events, including a new race in the Bechtel Trusts Senior Bix on Tuesday. 

By early afternoon Saturday, volunteers were busy dismantling fencing and cleaning up from the race around the Quad-City Times building. 

Read below about the spectators Quad-City Times/Dispatch-Argus reporters talked with along the course during the race. 

Early spectators

The LaMar family may just have been the first group of spectators on the course on Saturday.

They set up their lawn chairs at the corner of Brady and 14th streets at 6 a.m., just after sunrise and just before the arrival of many race volunteers.

But the family's Bix story has been building for 20 years.

Today's crew was Ryan LaMar, his aunt Tabitha Darnell and his mother Lila LaMar. Ryan said they've been roadside for the Bix since 2004, when he first heard the sounds of the race coming by his grandmother's Kirkwood home. The sirens. The music. 

"I was like, 'What's going on?'" he said.

"The Bix is in town," he remembers his grandmother answering.

And so the tradition began. His grandmother, Marilyn, loved to see the Monroes. His late aunt came for the Elvises. It's always been a family affair. 

"You can't sleep? You might as well join them," LaMar said. 

Hanging over their perch on Brady Street is a sprawling, shady tree. This has been their spot for five years, picked by Marilyn, who died two years ago.

But the LaMars aren't leaving the spot any time soon. The family tradition will keep going.

"As long as I'm alive, it will," LaMar said. 

From the turnaround on McClellan

Energy was high at the McClellan Boulevard turnaround, even before the race began.

Three-year-old Celina Cullinan was among the Bix volunteers filling water cups at the turnaround, and she did so with the utmost efficiency.

Her grandmother Cyndi Cullinan, also a volunteer, would hand Celina a stack of cups, which she'd quickly fill up and hand back one-by-one.

"She helps my back," Cullinan said with a chuckle during one of these handoffs.

Celina's mother, Kim, describes her daughter as "very task-oriented."

"She's got a lot more energy than we do," she said, later adding Celina even helps with tasks like cleaning or dishes at home. "… So, this is fun for her."

The Conquest Drum and Bugle Corps tuned up their instruments ahead of the race.

Based out of Geneseo, the Corps includes musicians from high school-aged students up to age 20.

"It's kind of become a bit of a tradition for us," director Joe Angelo said. "It’s a nice community thing we'd like to do, and it gets our name out there, you know?"

The Corps have performed at the last three Bix races, but this year was their first time at the turnaround. They were joined by the United Township High School drum line this year, also directed by Angelo.

Nearby, Bettendorf couple Frank and Martha Galusha secured their "perfect spot." 

"Some of our grandkids are running," Martha, 87, said. "We come here every year."

They chatted with Ed Roush ahead of the race, a 30-year Bix volunteer at 87 years old.

"I wouldn’t keep doing it if I didn’t like it," Roush said, also noting he's a 16-year Chick-fil-A employee.

Frank Galusha, 88, said Bix volunteers are "special people."

Up the hill, longtime Bettendorf dentist Tom Olson parked his 1953 MG TD — fashioning it into a race-side bar.

Offering this sort-of "mobile bar" for Bix racers is a longtime tradition of Olson's, between 20 and 30 years, he estimates.

While he used to offer more elaborate drinks, like Bloody Marys, he's "peeled it back a bit" this year. Saturday’s menu included Screwdrivers and "Coke on Fire" — Coca Cola with a "little shot" of Fireball.

Olson said his father, Ward Olson — a lifelong commercial artist in the Quad-Cities — was an avid Bix fan. Since his death in 2020, Olson views his spectatorship as a good way to continue his father’s legacy.

"And, it's just fun," he said, sipping a screwdriver.

Plenty of spectators along the route

In the hour before the Quad-City Times Bix 7, scores of people were already gathered along Kirkwood Boulevard. 

They were laughing, greeting each other and a few were dancing along to pop music playing through speakers at the corner of Kirkwood and Farnham.

Glen Moeller, a lifelong Davenport farmer, watched runners race by the halfway point, sitting in the shade of his son’s front yard on McClellan.

"I’m just holding down the fort," he said. "My son and four grandchildren are running in the (Bix) today."

Moeller said he's never ran the Bix before himself.

"I kind of figured I’d get enough exercise in my life (working on the farm)," he said. "It doesn’t get any better than this."

Down the sidewalk a bit, racers were met with high-fives and words of encouragement from Elyse and Aela Jennings, ages 8 and 6, from Bettendorf. 

"It gives them energy," Elyse said. "When they actually give us high-fives, it feels like we’re celebrities."

The girls also directed runners to a nearby sprinkler — because it "cools them off," Aela said — while echoing phrases like "You can do it!" and "You got this!"

The sprinklers in question, which appear as inflatable unicorns, were set up in the front lawn of Marguerite and Andrew Dasso.

Since moving into their home on McClellan six years ago, the Dassos have hosted a "house party" for the Bix, featuring race-sponsored DJs.

"Every year it just gets bigger and bigger," Marguerite said.

This year, they hosted a band — the "Sons of SageBrush" — instead of a DJ, and added another unicorn sprinkler.

"We upgraded to the two unicorns this year," she added. "It’s funny, when we talk to people who run the Bix, they're like, 'Oh, you’re the unicorn house!' And, the kids love it."

"Bixmas" gives runners holiday spirits

As runners neared the turnaround on McClellan, they passed by Tammy and Beau Biittner, the latter dressed in an inflatable Santa costume.

Part of the couple's more than 25-year-long "Bixmas" tradition, runners were offered a special present upon passing by: Jell-o shots.

"Every year it just grows," Tammy said. "We always look forward to doing a little 'Christmas in July' and cheering the runners on."

The Bixmas group were set up next to the halfway spot on McClellan, marked by a restored 1961 Davenport Fire Department unit belonging to Dot and Dan Sundholmn, lifelong Quad-Cities residents.

The Sundholmns and company set out snacks so runners can fuel-up during the last half of their race.

"We always try to include bananas, grapes, blueberries and some waters," Dot said. "Sometimes they stop, sometimes they don’t — but it’s fun for us."

Start of tradition

It was easy to tell Chris and Emmett Beveroth were father and son as they stretched and warmed up before their jaunt around Davenport: they wore matching hats. The Port Byron natives ran the race for the first time this year.

"I've been running for 13 years now, I just never had the opportunity to run it until this year," Chris said. "He runs cross country a little bit, so we're going to do it together for our first time. He's a pretty quick runner. He's pretty good."

His 10-year-old son, Emmett, stood quietly beside his dad, swinging his legs as he stretched and prepared his hand at running with the best. The pair practiced with quick runs ahead of the race and had no worries about tackling the mammoth that is Brady Street hill.

Not far behind them was Sherina Winslow who walked with her 8-year-old granddaughter Savannah Jones. The duo are from Bennett and Mt. Vernon, respectively, and are also first time Bix racers.

Winslow said she was participating for her granddaughter, Jones, who was all smiles as she stood beside her grandmother, donning a matching shirt. Jones shivered in the shaded area of Brady Street she stood on, but that was not meant to last long. 

Just in front of them were Christina McDonough and Collin Luckritz, 13, family friends who were also running for the first time. The teenager shrugged his shoulders when asked if he was nervous for his first big race, but McDonough admitted she had some nerves.

"Nervous and excited," McDonough said. "We have done a lot of training: over 40 runs, over 140 miles. We have focused on hills, we have focused on distance and now we're here to see how we do."

The pair previously ran 5ks and participated in the Bix at 6 events, but Saturday's run was sure to be their longest to date. 

"We're hoping our legs are ready to take us the last mile," she said with a laugh.

Scenes from Kirkwood

The first runners trickled onto Kirkwood Boulevard about 10 minutes after the race started. Soon more flooded both the westbound and eastbound lanes, the rhythmic slapping of their shoe soles on pavement mingling with the cheers and music from the sidelines.

Some crisscrossed between those lanes where a roadway broke the central green space of Kirkwood. Others found their way onto the green space before weaving back onto the pavement.

Bode Koranda, of Wilton, Iowa, sat with Quinten, his 3-year-old, in the green median. His wife was running.

“Where’s mama?” Quinten asked at one point. Koranda looked at his phone.

“She is one …two … three… four… five blocks away,” he told his son after looking at an online map showing his wife’s progress.

It took a while longer, then they were cheering for a woman in the sea of runners. Then she was gone, miles yet to go.

Saturday’s race was Koranda’s third Bix and Quinten’s first.

Vicky VanAusdall, of Davenport, had to think a moment when asked how many Bix races she’s attended.

“I know for sure nine since I retired,” she said.

She ran it one time, about 30 years ago, VanAusdall said.

Farther east, at the corner with LeClaire Street, water darkened a stretch of Kirkwood’s pavement. There were two culprits causing it.

One was a group of girls wearing bathing suits as they stood in a bright pink children’s pool. They and an adult nearby used long, plunger-like squirt guns to soak the runners as they returned from the turnaround.

The second was a sprinkler in the grassy median. Its water arced onto the street, but it was also keeping a wide strip of black plastic on the grass wet as well.

A man shouted to the runners like a carnival barker, encouraging them to take a slide along the plastic.

“Show us what you’re made of!” he shouted at them as the runners passed him, among other encouragements.

Many took him up on it, some sliding smoothly and others, less so.

As they passed water stations, the runners grabbed paper cups and gulped the contents or doused themselves with the water. The cups made a hollow thump after the runners dropped them and they hit the roadway.

In spots the cups drifted like autumn leaves. Just like in fall, people were trying to keep up with them. A yellow-shirted volunteer threw cups into a huge, clear plastic lawn bag. A man used a leaf rake to pile them up and move them to the curb.