From the Middle of the Pack
My View of the 2007 Iron Butt Rally
by
Steve Branner
South Charleston, West Virginia
January 15, 2008
From the Middle of the Pack
Although it may be hard to believe, this is a true story. It describes my participation in the 2007 Iron Butt Rally and is written to describe to non-riders and riders who aren’t aware of the sport of endurance motorcycle riding just what I did during my 2007 summer vacation. I’m sure that all Iron Butt Association members and rally participants who may read this will understand and recognize all of the mental, physical, mechanical, operational, financial, and emotional issues that I dealt with as a result of the obsession to participate in this event. Nothing contained here-in is intended to either promote or critically judge the sport of long-distance endurance motorcycle riding and rallying. It’s just something that a few crazed people with too much spare time on their hands enjoy doing. Some of the Polaroid photographs included with this report are the ones that I didn’t turn in at the scoring table because they didn’t show the bonus locations as well as the submitted photos and are, therefore, somewhat blurry. I wish that I had taken multiple photographs at each bonus location. After having read some of the IBR chronicles already submitted by other participants in the rally it’s obvious that just about everyone endured many of the same experiences. There is a common thread of redundancy in all of the reports including the reference to the very appropriate quote by Bob Higdon, below. Separately, we were all in this event together.
In response to the question of “why?” people participate in this rather obscure activity, Bob H., in the Foreword of “Against the Wind”, an account of the 1995 Iron Butt Rally by Ron Ayres so eloquently responded . . . “The answer could be, in this most sublimely solitary of sports, ironically a question of companionship. The riders rarely see each other, dancing as they do across the country in chaotic, Brownian motion. They’re not talking to anyone, except maybe to themselves. If they’re not riding, sleeping in the saddle on the side of the road, or eating dinner while standing next to a gas pump at three o’clock in the morning, then they’re just wasting time. But think of the end. Think how glorious it will be to get off the bike and not have to count the minutes until you have to strap yourself onto it again. When you turn off the key for the last time, there aren’t [300] people on earth who can seriously appreciate what you have undergone. About [70 of them] will show up at a motel west of [St. Louis], looking as pounded as you do. They are the only ones who really know. The rest of us can only guess. You ride this endless ride to be one of them.”
So . . . the urge to participate in this event began in 2001 after having done a number of Iron Butt *certificate rides* discovering that it was fun to go to faraway places on a motorcycle, and reading the on-line reports about the 2001 Iron Butt Rally. And I read the books by Ron Ayres, “Against the Wind” and “Against the Clock,” and knew that this was more than just a motorcycle riding event . . . it had the makings of being a lifetime benchmark. I applied to ride in the 2003 and 2005 rallies and got “Dear John” letters from the IBR Rally Master, Lisa Landry that stated, “By far the most difficult part of my job is to notify those of you whose entry was not pulled in the draw. It is with a heavy heart and much sadness that I send this letter to you . . .” Oh, well, at least I could say that I tried to participate.
The IBA typically gets between 2000 and 3000 applications for the 100 spots that are available for each rally. On a whim, I decided, once again, to apply for the 2007 Rally feeling that, due to my age, this may be the last time that I may be physically capable of riding in the Rally. The logic, again, was that I could, at least, say that I did everything possible to get into the IBR and knowing that the odds of getting selected were pretty high I wasn’t planning on getting anything other than the previously received rejection letter from the IBA.
*Bling, Bling* . . . “you’ve got mail.” June 14, 2006 . . . “Congratulations! Your application was drawn for entry in the 2007 Iron Butt rally – the World’s Toughest Motorcycle Competition! . . . While those not in the rally might be disappointed today, in August 2007 those of you with rally flags will no doubt be questioning your sanity“. I had just been selected to ride in the 13th Iron Butt Rally, arguably one of the most intense and demanding amateur motorcycle events in the world.
Oh, Shit !, what do I do now? I didn’t know if I should rejoice or cry.
Watch out what you ask for ‘cause you just might get it.
The dog just caught the car. My bluff was called.
Although I still had the opportunity to give up my spot in the rally by not sending in the entry fee deposit it only took about 15 seconds to make up my mind to get on with it. I sent in the required registration forms, deposit, and release forms within a few days. I was officially entered in “The World’s Toughest Motorcycle Competition.” Practically every spare waking moment from that time until the end of August, 2007 was spent thinking about the Rally and how to adequately prepare for and participate in it. I needed to get into better physical shape. I needed to get mentally prepared. I needed to get the right bike for the job. I needed to prepare and accessorize the bike for the rigors of the Rally. And, because I had never participated in a motorcycle endurance rally, I needed to enter as many rallies as possible prior to the IBR to get a sense of how to efficiently plan and ride in a rally so that I might have a respectable chance of finishing the IBR. Where to start? Where to start?
I sold a 1996 BMW R1100RT in 2004 because, at the time, I was trying to simplify my life by getting rid of stuff that I had collected over the years. The RT was a good bike but I didn’t need two bikes (the one I kept was a Harley Super Glide T-Sport). When the “Congratulations . . . “ e-mail arrived the bike I had at that time (and still have) was a Harley Road Glide . . . a decent enough touring bike but not, in my opinion, a bike suited for the rigors of endurance rallying. So, because of the good luck and satisfaction that I had with the R1100RT, I bought a new 2006 BMW R1200RT from Holt BMW in Athens, Ohio (where I had previously purchased the R11RT). This was the ideal opportunity to get the new sport touring bike that was getting all of the great reviews in the bike press and was, in my opinion, the right *tool* for the job at hand. I immediately began to think about what I needed to do to get the bike where it needed to be to do the rally.
Modifications / accessories to the RT included the following:
Aftermarket Sargent seat
Beadrider seat cover
Barbacks to reposition the handlebars
Foot peg lowering brackets
HID headlight bulb replacements (later changed back to the stock H7 halogen bulbs . . .
the HID’s were incompatible with the BMW computerized electrical system)
Hella FF50 driving lights
Motolights
GS mirrors
4 gallon Tourtank gas tank (mounted on the luggage rack) with pump (under the seat)
Pelican Case top box (mounted on the passenger seat)
J & M CB radio
XM radio
Countdown timer
Garmin Zumo GPS
Garmin 2730 GPS
Touratech tank bag and side bags
Centech accessory fuse panel
EZ Pass toll booth transponder
Panasonic Toughbook laptop computer with “Streets & Trips” mapping software
Two Polaroid 600 Cameras
Most of the electrical work was done by Roger Sinclair, the Irish Spanner, in Richmond, VA who I met at the Jacksonville Iron Butt Dinner in March, 2007. Roger had helped to prepare several bikes for endurance riding and the Iron Butt Rally in the past and he impressed me with his knowledge of BMW’s (he was a former BMW mechanic) and what would be required to get my bike set up properly. He was also a great cheerleader in helping me to get mentally ready for the IBR.
In an effort to become comfortable with the BMW I knew I needed to ride it . . . a lot. The first long distance venture was a shake-down ride in March that took me to Jacksonville (to the IBA annual Bike Week dinner) and then to Phoenix, AZ and back home to South Charleston, WV. The distance traveled during the six days I was on the road was 4900 miles. There were no mechanical issues with the bike and I felt good (although a little tired) when I got back home.
By the end of January, I had submitted applications for three shorter endurance rallies . . . all in an effort to get prepared for the IBR. The first one was the Cape Fear 1000, a 26 hour event in April that had four starting locations with all riders ending up in Wilmington, NC. I started in Cairo, Illinois and rode 1300 miles through KY, IN, TN, and VA to NC in addition to the 900 miles I rode getting to Cairo and back home from Wilmington. Being the first endurance rally I ever attempted I didn’t plan a very efficient route, but I learned a lot from talking with several participants at the end of the event. I finished 36th out of 81 riders. Respectable, but I knew I could do better. In May, I rode in the Mason-Dixon 20-20 rally, a 32 hour event that started and ended in York, PA. The route I chose wiggled thru MD, VA, WV, and back to PA. The route length was 1100 miles plus 600 miles getting to York and back. Using what I learned from the CF1000 I planned a more efficient route and ended up in 20th place out of 57 riders. The last endurance rally before the IBR was the five-day Beast in the East (BitE) rally. This rally, during the week of the July 4th holiday, started and ended in Statesville, NC with a mid-rally checkpoint in Wilkes Barre, PA. This would be more like the IBR than the previous events in that sleep management would be vitally important to do well. The first leg of the rally had several bonus locations that were at the end of dirt, mud, pig shit, gravel, and generally non-existent roads leading to obscure cemeteries and other rural *attractions* literally in the middle of nowhere. The most *memorable* road to a bonus was the 12 mile rock / boulder / gravel / log strewn trail across two ridges of the Appalachian Mountains in Tazewell County, Virginia from VA-42 to Burkes Garden. Up until this time I could count the number of minutes I had ever ridden on non-paved roads on the fingers of one hand. Although I survived the travels across these “goat paths” I didn’t particularly care to ride on them. The first leg took me through NC, SC, TN, VA, WV, and PA. The second leg of the BitE route went thru MD, VA, NC, SC, GA, AL, MS, LA (to Venice, about 60 miles south-east of New Orleans at the mouth of the Mississippi River), and FL before returning back to NC. Thankfully, there were no *questionable roads* on the second leg. I rode 4,700 miles plus 450 miles to get to Statesville and back during the BitE and finished 10th out of 32 riders. Were it not for a transcription error in documenting mileage on a receipt (that cost me several thousand points) I would have finished 4th. Anyway, I was getting better at this “rally thing” and felt that I was about as ready as I could be for the Iron Butt Rally in August
The Statesville, NC parking lot at the end of the Beast in the East rally
While all of this riding activity was going on I was spending an hour or so three days a week (since January) at Innovative Fitness, a local health club, where I was doing an exercise program with various work-out routines intended to get me in shape and to build up the stamina to be able to sit, for days, on the motorcycle without getting sore or overly tired. The other help I was getting there was in the area of diet, with recommendations on what and how much to eat and drink during the rally. Basic instructions were to eat adequate protein and keep hydrated with plenty of water. Caffeine and starchy foods were to be avoided. The huge issue for me was how to get adequate sleep / rest during the eleven day event while still covering the distance required to get enough points to be considered a finisher of the rally. I was going to have to drastically reduce my normal eight hours of sleep every night and, although I managed to get by on reduced sleep during the shorter rallies that I did earlier in the year, still remain alert for eleven days . . . and nights.
As increasing numbers friends and acquaintances learned of my upcoming participation in the rally I kept getting the “why?” question more frequently and no matter what I said or how I tried to explain the event I could tell by the vacant stares that ensued that they just didn’t understand. This was especially true, more so, from friends who rode motorcycles than from those who didn’t.
The first week of August I took the bike back to Holt BMW for a final service, oil change, final drive lube change (more about that later), and new tires. The second week in August was spent getting all of my job obligations for the next few weeks resolved so I could fully concentrate on the IBR. Trying to determine what to pack in the way of clothes, riding gear, tools, and repair supplies was also consuming a lot of pre-rally spare time.
I also spent a lot of time during the summer months reviewing the bonus locations of previous Iron Butt Rallies in an effort to get a sense of what I might expect in this 2007 event. There was a lot more to getting points than just riding from place to place. Qualifying for the credit for visiting most of the bonus locations required getting off the bike, possibly hiking a distance to the specific attraction, taking a legible photo of the attraction with your rally flag / number clearly visible, and documenting the date, time, mileage, location, and other specifically required information on the photo and in the rally book. Lots of points could also be earned by keeping an accurate fuel log of gasoline stops. The more fatigued you are the easier it is to forget any one of the documentation details. Incomplete record keeping will lead to non-acceptance of the points associated with the bonus location.
So . . . it was finally time to set out on this great adventure. I had done about everything that I knew to do to be as prepared as possible. Hopefully, nothing was forgotten.
Friday, August 17, 2007, 8:30 am
I left home on the bike pretty well loaded down carrying everything with me that I felt was required to exist for the next few weeks. Significant items packed included clothes for hot, cold, wet, and dry weather (specific riding gear included an Aerostitch Roadcrafter one-piece riding suit, an Olympia jacket, Sidi On-road boots [truly waterproof], a Nolan N102 helmet with internal speakers / microphone, a Gerbing electric heated jacket liner, and an assortment of hot and cold weather gloves) ; Tools / equipment for minor repairs including tire repair / inflation gear, duct tape, zip ties, bungee cords, spare fuses, and light bulbs; health, safety and personal hygiene gear including an assortment of sunglasses, a first aid kit, flashlights, aspirin, sun screen, a Camelback hydration system, protein bars, and lots of peppermint lifesavers; navigation information including the two GPS units and AAA maps of every state in the US and every province in Canada; and emergency and communications information including AAA / BMW towing service cards, the BMW MOA Anonymous book with phone numbers of members who are willing to help in emergencies, phone numbers of other friends around the country who offered to help in an emergency, a cell phone, and a National Parks pass . Credit cards and enough cash for emergencies were also on board. Nancy, my wife of 40+ years, who to this day can’t understand this riding obsession I have, kissed me good bye and probably wondered if she’d ever see me again. She, at least, had the comfort of knowing that my life insurance premiums were paid up to date.
The ride on I-64 west to Chesterfield, MO, about 30 miles west of St. Louis where the rally headquarters hotel was located, was uneventful. It was a good opportunity to see how the loaded down bike would handle. I stopped four times during the 530 mile trip to fine tune and adjust my packing system. I arrived at the hotel about 4:00 pm and was immediately taken by all of the activity surrounding the participants and their bikes. After checking in I met up with the Arlen Brunsvald’s, Jr., and Sr. – Little & Big - (the first father / son team in the IBR), who I got to know well in previous rallies during the summer; Don Kulwicki, another first-time IBR participant who I met at the IBA Jacksonville dinner; and Reiner & Lisa Kappenberger who I first met at the inaugural Aloha 1000 IBA ride in February, 2006 and who were one of five couples riding two-up in the IBR. It was good to see these riders again and speculate on what we would all be going thru over the next two weeks. I began watching the Weather Channel for long-range forecasts.
Parked at the HQ hotel before registration
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Rally registration / check-in began at 8:00 am. This included showing proof of bike ownership and insurance coverage, checking the bike’s odometer over a measured course, signing liability waiver releases, being interviewed (to check the mental condition of each competitor, I believe), getting photographed, and answering some basic questions about your goals and expectations during the rally. One of the expectations / hopes that I had was that everyone would finish the rally . . . which would mean that I would, too.
My Riders Pin and me with the bike after Registration
With this being the first time I participated in the IBR I really didn’t have any lofty expectations except to finish it. My goal was to, basically, fly under the radar (more about radar later) and just go about the business of participating in and finishing the rally as well as I could. Forty-one of the 97 riders in the rally had participated in previous IBR’s and I felt that they had a leg up on everyone else due to their experience. Other than about twenty riders who had legitimate chances of winning the rally the rest of the riders were pretty much in it to see how well they could ride in this event that they’d heard so much about over the past twenty years or so.
One participant who had been in three previous IBR events and had won the 1999 rally was George Barnes. During the registration / check-in I found myself in line with George and had a great conversation with him about his thoughts on the IBR. In asking what one thing he could tell me that would be of benefit his response was, “Don’t pay much attention to all of the hype and talk in the parking lot. Just plan a ride that you’re comfortable with and do it.”
After I was all checked in there was nothing much to do until an evening welcoming party hosted by BMW. Most of the afternoon was spent checking out the other bikes, talking with old and new-found friends, and trying not to let the parking lot conversations influence me too much. Roger Sinclair, who helped me with my bike set-up back in March was there to give any help needed by the riders, even though he wasn’t in the rally. I enjoyed talking with him again and he suggested that I call him from time to time during the rally to let him know how I was doing. I said I would. As it turned out, I didn’t (because I couldn’t).
Reiner and me in the parking lot before the Rally
and in the hotel lounge later in the day with Sylvie & Bob T., Tom L., and Don
C.
On a low note, Big and Little Arlen went for a ride to make sure their bikes were working properly and had a low-speed *get-together* at a stoplight. Other than some road rash, they were both ok. Big Arlen was able to get his bike (R1200RT, like mine) repaired at the local BMW shop. Little Arlen wasn’t as fortunate. The local Harley shop was closed (he was riding a Road King). I had met Pat Bush, the owner of the local Harley shop, Doc’s, in the past and called her to see if she could help get Little Arlen back on the road and she was most accommodating in helping with his problem. As it turned out, the Road King wasn’t repairable and he bought a used Road Glide for the rally. Because the service shop was closed and wouldn’t open until Monday, Arlen, Jr. wasn’t able to get the accessories off of the damaged bike and on the Road Glide until Monday afternoon. He and his dad started about six hours behind the rest of the riders on Monday.
After the BMW party we all retired to the hotel lounge and had some very lively long-distance motorcycling discussions. I checked the Weather Channel forecast again. The only rain that was predicted was in the north-east for the first part of the upcoming week.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Two significant events took place on this last day before the rally . . . a mandatory riders meeting at 2:30 pm and the pre-rally banquet at 6:00 pm.
At the riders meeting everyone was admonished to ride safely, within legal speed limits, to get adequate rest, . . . and to ride smart. Nervous anticipation of the next two weeks was the general mood at the banquet which was highlighted by the distribution of numbered rally flags to all of the participants (I was No. 76) and the rally books for the first leg. At 8:00 pm I began planning my ride.
I spent some time in the room discussing the possible routes with Big & Little Arlen. The diversity of opinions about the ride made for lively conversation. While the riders were poring over all of the routing options, rally staff members including Mike Kneebone and Dean Tanji, along with a film crew, were lurking in the corridors of the hotel to get a sense of what the riders were thinking and where they may be going. They dropped in on our lively discussion and just smiled when listening to our bantering. I’d have given a thousand dollars to have heard the true opinions of these veterans of past rallies about our routing thoughts
The first leg of the rally contained over 100 bonus point locations with practically all of them being in the eastern part of the country. There were a few “sucker bonuses” on this leg which made no sense. One was in Hawaii (to indicate to the riders that some locations were virtually impossible to get to) and one was in Labrador that required riding 1000+ miles on, possibly impassable, unpaved roads. Needless to say, these locations were quickly blown off by me. The end of the first leg was back in Chesterfield, MO where all riders were to be no later than 9:00 pm on Friday, August 24. The rally book stated, “The following Potential Bonus locations are like a restaurant menu. If you order everything on the menu and eat it, you are going to get sick and perhaps die. Please pick and choose bonus locations carefully.” Generally, there were fewer *big point* bonuses in the northeast and more*small point* bonuses in the southeast. After about an hour analyzing the options I decided to stay away from the south and southeast where many of the bonuses were in Florida (Key West with its slower traffic was a significant location) and along the Gulf Coast. Instead, even though the weather forecast was for rain for a day or so in the northeast, I decided to head for the Perce’ Rock bonus at the eastern end of the Gaspe’ Peninsula in Quebec, Canada. There were a number of high point bonus locations available on the way to and from Quebec that seemed to make this destination a favorable one, in my opinion. I wanted to stay out of the major metro areas of New York City, Boston, Philadelphia, Detroit, and Chicago and decided to not spend excess time going to bonus locations less than 1000 points unless directly on the route to Perce’ Rock and back. So . . . after looking at about ten options for the first leg routing I finally decided on a plan that I thought I could ride well and went to bed about 1:00 am. I didn’t sleep very well in anticipation of what the next week would bring.
Monday, August 20, 2007 . . . IBR Day - 1
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! . . . Today was my 63rd birthday. What a way to celebrate! Twenty-two of the rally participants were over 60 years old with the average age being 52 years
Looking outside from my room at 6:30 am I wasn’t impressed with the weather . . . drizzly rain. But then, it was just as predicted. All riders were to be at their bikes at 8:30 am for an odometer check. The next milestone time was at 10:00 am when all riders departed on the first leg of the Iron Butt Rally, sometimes compared to a mix of the TV shows,” The Amazing Race” and “Survivor.” Thru the early morning there was an off and on misty rain. All of the riders assembled back at their bikes shortly before 10:00 am and there I was, sitting on my bike in the rain with my “game face” on along with 94 other souls lined up and ready to head out who were also probably wondering just what in Hell brought them to this point in their life. At 9:45 am it poured, but at 10:00 am the rain actually let up a bit and most of the riders departed in a single file heading east toward downtown St. Louis and the Memorial Arch, the first bonus location visited by practically all of the riders.
Leaving the Chesterfield HQ hotel in the RAIN
During the first few minutes on the road I really was concerned about what I had gotten myself into, but I had an inner satisfaction and comfort knowing that I was in the company of those who really knew and understood how I felt about this riding obsession I have . . . because they had it too.
It took about 20 minutes for the bike parade to get to the Arch and get parked. The bonus location was a mural located in the visitor center below ground under the Arch about a quarter mile walk from the parking garage. The parade of riders briskly walking to and from the Memorial was awesome. Most of the riders went to the closest entrance which was backed up due to the security checkpoint that all visitors had to go thru. I went to the opposite (south) entrance and got in within about five minutes. Here it was, the first photo bonus . . . I probably spent more time than necessary to make sure that all required information was properly documented. Back to the garage I got a time stamped receipt and then headed east. Ten minutes later I had this sinking feeling that I didn’t have my rally flag with me. I stopped along I-70 (in the rain) to check for it and was relieved that it was in the tank bag . . . I just forgot that I put it there in all of the confusion surrounding the Arch bonus documentation. I, then developed a mental check plan that I would follow for the rest of the rally after visiting each bonus to make sure I didn’t forget anything (like the rally flag).
My plan was to head east to get to the Hoagy’s Heroes Iron Butt Mural bonus at his Bar-B-Q joint in Moundsville, WV within the time window of 6pm – midnight and to stop at the Honda Marysville, Ohio plant on the way. Well, it was raining pretty steady across Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. The traffic slow-down on the beltway around Indianapolis due to the rain was frustrating and put me about 30 minutes behind schedule and the rainy weather generally slowed my progress riding east from Indy. This caused me to make a minor routing change and blow off the Marysville, Ohio Honda plant bonus. It was 1,578 points but I didn’t want the 30 – 60 minutes of time getting to and from it to jeopardize my schedule to get to Hoagies place (5,099 points) in time. So, I kept riding east and had another weather induced slowdown riding around the Columbus beltway. That validated my decision to pass up the Honda plant.
The first mechanical / electrical issue I had to cope with on the bike was a short circuit somewhere in the electrical system of the ABS braking system that occurred in rainy weather. This problem first became apparent when riding in the rain in the BitE Rally in July. Water was evidently getting into an electrical connection creating a short circuit that caused the red “brake failure” light on the dash panel to blink. The brakes still worked (although I never tried to lock them up on rainy pavement to see if the ABS functioned properly) and then, after the rain stopped and the nether regions of the bike dried out, the failure light stopped blinking. The mechanic at Holt BMW could neither find the problem nor recreate it in the shop by hosing down the front of the bike. Anyway, the “brake failure” light had been flashing since I left St. Louis and although I knew the brakes worked I was still not happy with the situation.
As I continued east across Ohio the rain was becoming a real pain in the ass (more about that later) . . . figuratively as well as literally. Although I have what can be considered as pretty decent water resistant riding gear, it really isn’t totally water proof. Fabric seams, zippers, and neck & wrist seals can’t keep out water forever . . . sooner or later the water will find its way to just about everywhere . . . and it did. The first day of the rally could just as easily have been called the *Iron Butt Regatta*. I might have fared better in a row boat.
I finally got to Hoagy’s about 9:30 pm. I felt like, and probably looked like, a drowned rat. As an aside, I’ve known Hoagy for several years. He’d been inviting me up to his place for one of his famous steak dinners but the opportunity to go never materialized . . . until now. I accused him of getting the IBA to include his garage / restaurant as a bonus location only to get me to finally show up at his place. Anyway, I got there in the rain pretty much soaking wet. There were several other IBR riders there coming and going during my stay. Hoagy, the consummate host, could see that I was not only pretty wet but also cold and offered to let me use his dryer to dry my clothes as well as a bed to rest and warm up in. An hour and a half later he got me up, I put on my now dry clothes, and I ate a great burger prepared by the helpers working with Hoagie. I tried calling home to let Nancy know that I was ok but my cell phone didn’t work . . . it had drowned. So, I used Hoagie’s home phone to make the call, which turned out to be the first of several very expensive land-line phone conversations I had over the next two weeks. I, then, headed out into the rainy night about 11:30 pm pointing northeast toward Quebec. What a memorable birthday it had been!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007 . . . IBR Day - 2
My route took me diagonally across Pennsylvania on both Interstate and two lane roads. There’s nothing quite like riding on unfamiliar, twisty, black asphalt roads in the rain (with the “brake failure” light flashing incessantly) at night to keep you alert. The sleep that I got at Hoagies rejuvenated me but by about 3:00 am I was starting to tire again as a result of the constant attention that was required to drive safely. I stopped in Du Bois, PA for gas about 3:30 am and slept for about an hour in the convenience store on a bench. At least it was warm and dry inside.
It’s pretty amazing how about an hour of sleep can provide enough rest to get back on the road in a relatively alert state. Continuing to head northeast in the early rainy morning I entered New York about sunrise and turned east on I-88. Around 10:00 am the rain stopped and the skies began to clear up. That was more like it . . . sunny skies and dry roads. And about a half hour later the brake warning light went out. The next bonus stop was at the US Soccer Hall of Fame in Oneonta, NY. The rally book said to take a photo of the large soccer ball “stuck” in the wall outside the building. Well, the entrance sign had a large soccer ball “stuck” in it and I stopped to take the photo there . . . but then I re-read the instructions that said the soccer ball was “stuck” in the wall outside the building and I rode to the main building and saw the ball there, too. I took a photo of that soccer ball too which, as it turned out, was the correct photo. The Soccer Hall of Fame bonus was only 1,812 points but it was right on the route to Quebec so it was easy to get. As I was heading back to the Interstate I passed Andy Mills, who was competing in his second IBR, riding a new Victory Vision touring bike on his way into the Hall of Fame. We waved to each other and continued on our respective rides.
The Soccer hall of Fame Entrance Sign
Back on I–88 east it felt great to be riding in the sunshine. The next destination on my route was Reynolds Motorsports in Buxton, Maine, a 5,300 point bonus. This was a time sensitive bonus that was only available between 9:00 am and 6:00 pm and required a minimum stay of 60 minutes. My route took me to Albany, NY and then east on I-90 towards Boston and then north on I-95 to Buxton, about 14 miles west of Portland. I chose to pass up bonuses in New York City and Boston just to keep away from potential traffic congestion. The interstate highway traffic moved smoothly and the EZ Pass toll road transponder probably saved about 30 minutes of time waiting at toll booths. The traffic congestion got much worse, though, on the two-lane roads leading to Buxton from I-95. It took about 45 minutes to get to Reynolds Motorsports from the interstate. A snack was provided by the Reynolds staff that was greatly appreciated. Also, the 60 minute rest period provided time to talk with other rally participants and to re-check and confirm my route to Canada. Reiner and Lisa showed up at Reynolds while I was there and I enjoyed hearing about their travels to date. It was also a slow ride back to I-95 north due to the traffic congestion.
Getting ready to depart Reynolds Motorsports
So, as I was heading north I made another minor modification to my planned route . . . I decided to pass up the I,888 point Bath, Maine schooner bonus. Although it was relatively close to the I-95 route to Canada I was concerned about the local traffic congestion that would slow my progress toward Perce’ Rock which I planned on arriving at about noon on Wednesday (when the tide was lowest which would allow access by foot across the ocean bed to the rock bonus location). The ride thru the afternoon and evening was far better than the previous day. I got to Houlton, ME at the Canadian border about 9:30 pm. It took a few minutes to get thru customs. When asked what I would be doing in Canada, I replied, “taking a leisurely vacation trip.” By that time I had traveled about 1,700 miles in less than 36 hours with about 2 ½ hours of sleep.
I was feeling tired but needed to ride until about midnight. There was a 6-hour rest / sleep bonus that had to start on August 22. So, I rode to Woodstock, New Brunswick and then north on Canadian Rt. 2 to Grand Falls, NB, where I stopped at a motel just after midnight and after getting a gas receipt documenting the beginning of the rest stop. The six hours of rest was eagerly anticipated. I called the IBR “Call-in” bonus number to report on my progress and I called home to report on my mental condition (still insane) before going to sleep.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007 . . . IBR Day - 3
I headed back on the road at dawn with my ending sleep bonus receipt in hand. The early morning fog kept my speed lower than planned. As I was riding north-east on Canada Rt. 17 the road, with no forewarning (that I saw), suddenly turned from smooth pavement to loose gravel / dirt in a curve at the beginning of a construction zone that I hit at about 60 mph. This wasn’t what I needed. The plan was to stay away from all non-paved roads (but there was no way to know about this construction ahead of time, and if I had known, I probably would have still come this way because there was no other reasonable route to take). It’s needless to say that this was an “Oh, Shit” moment. I let the bike coast to a manageable speed in the sloppy quagmire and then slogged my way through the construction area that was about 3 miles long. That was what I called “Close Call No. 1” (with 4 more yet to come).
The next bonus to be collected was the Giant Salmon sculpture in Campbellton, NB (3,014 points). As I approached the sculpture, in a park adjacent to picturesque Chaleur Bay, I was pleasantly surprised to see about five other IBR riders. It was, so far, truly uncanny how you could be riding all alone, literally in the middle of nowhere, and all of a sudden come upon other riders at the same bonus location you were going to. Fortunately, I had taken two pictures of the *big fish* . . . the second, being the one required to get the points for the bonus.
It was about 155 miles to Perce’ Rock and I was finally on the last leg to this bonus (33,000 points) where I would turn back toward St. Louis. The ride along Canada Rt. 132, a two lane road connecting several vacation towns along Chaleur Bay and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, took about three hours. Upon arrival in Perce’, I asked a bystander for directions to the Perce’ Rock (that I pronounced “purse”) and got a blank stare . . . he spoke back to me (saying “peer-say”?) in French . . . a language that I neither speak nor understand. And, at the time, I didn’t have the patience to try to communicate with him about the whereabouts of the access to the rock although I later figured out that he was pronouncing the name of the rock properly and I wasn’t. About that time two IBR riders passed me and I followed them to the parking lot that led to the “rock”. The walk to Perce’ Rock led down about 100 steps to the edge of the ocean and then for about a quarter of a mile along a very rocky shoreline and then for about a quarter of a mile across the ocean floor (exposed at low tide . . . although I actually had to wade thru 6” deep water in places) to “the rock”. I got the required photos for the bonus points at 12:30 pm (IBR rider John Tomasovitch also took a photo of me at the rock). It was about an hour before low tide. (Tide tables were passed out with the rally book at the Sunday night dinner). There was a parade of tourists as well as many IBR riders on the way to and from “the rock”. Also, the weather was wonderful . . . sunny and warm.
Perce’ Rock from the bottom of the Stairs and Crossing the Ocean Floor at Low
Tide
Standing on Perce’ Rock and the View back to the Town of Perce’
When I got back to the bike I rode into town and stopped to get something to eat and to confirm the route back west. Communication with the store clerk was hampered, again, by the French / English language barrier. According to the Streets & Trips mapping software it was 1,330 miles to Grand Marais, Michigan where there was a 10,123 point bonus for taking a photo of the “Pickle Barrel House”.
I left Perce’ at 1:30 pm knowing that I had to be at the Pickle Barrel House before sundown on Thursday . . . in 31 hours. I rode back along Canada Rt. 132 for about an hour and stopped for gas. I was feeling good that I was heading back west. A few miles down the road from the gas stop the motor started to sputter and cough. It stopped. I restarted it and it still ran extremely rough but I could keep the motor running if I kept the rpm’s up above about 3500. I was in panic mode by now, not knowing exactly what the problem was or what to do but knowing that I had to keep moving which was, at best, an erratic effort, particularly in the stop and go tourist traffic. The next probable chance of getting service for the bike was in Quebec, about 400 miles away or in Montreal, about 550 miles away. Visions of a DNF in the Rally were wildly dancing thru my head. The main thought I had about the problem was that I had pumped some bad / contaminated gas into the tanks at the last gas stop and that if I could run the gas out of the main tank (and dump the gas from the auxiliary tank) I may be able to overcome the problem. And then, almost as quickly as the engine started running rough, it started running normally again . . . after about 30 miles of angst. My thought about the episode was that there was some water in the bottom of the main tank that finally was sucked out with the gas. What a relief! I continued riding west on rt. 132 across the Gaspe’ Peninsula and stopped at Mont-Joli, along the St. Lawrence Seaway, to rest at 6:00 pm and to get a bite to eat from the snack food I had with me . What a gorgeous, scenic place this was!
I continued west on Canada Rt. 20 past Quebec and to Ste-Eulalie, halfway between Quebec and Montreal, where I stopped for the night about 11:00 pm at a mom & pop motel that may have had 20 rooms. The motel clerk spoke broken English but I was able to communicate with him well enough to get checked in. The real problem was that my credit card didn’t work (even though I called before I left home to let the bank know of my travels). So, I used the back-up card I had with me . . . a credit card with a low limit for emergencies only. I figured that there might be a problem with the card reader at the motel. I called home from the motel’s phone to report that I was doing ok and I called the IBR call-in number again to report on my whereabouts. This was the official “call-in” bonus requirement. The call made about 23 hours earlier, just after midnight, was during the rest bonus which was not per the rules.
Thursday, August 23, 2007 . . . IBR Day - 4
I was up and back on the road at 3:30 am. I felt good and, so far, wasn’t having any problem getting myself psyched up to get up and get moving in the early mornings. I had to ride about 800 miles to Grand Marias within the next 17 hours and it felt good to get back on the road. Another option I briefly considered was to take a more direct route back to St. Louis thru Toronto and Detroit, but there were many more locations that I would have had to visit to get the same points that were available going to Grand Marias. Somewhere before I got to Montreal the voice prompts from Michele (more about her later) in the Zumo GPS stopped working. This was a real downer because I relied so much on the audio (so I wouldn’t have to take my eyes off the road to look at the GPS) for directions in congested areas with multiple directional and lane changes. I wiggled the input cable connecting the CB radio to the GPS and got sporadic audio output. My thought was that all of the rain on the first day may have degraded the connection. Anyway, with occasional jiggling of the connection I was able to get static-prone prompts for the ride thru Montreal. I passed thru Montreal by 5:30 am, missing the morning rush hour traffic and stopped near Ottawa for gas about 6:00 am. Coincidentally, two other IBR riders arrived at the same gas station while I was there. My credit card didn’t work, again, and I had to use the back-up card. The frustrating part about it was that I had to pay inside the c-store and the clerk only spoke French, again, and I had a hard time explaining to her that I needed a receipt which, for some reason that I never understood, she either didn’t want to give me or she thought I didn’t want. I finally got it through to her that I really needed the receipt and eventually got it.
After I was on the road for a few minutes the motor started coughing and spitting again. What in the world was happening? I was at my wits end thinking about this problem and, once again, was wondering if the bike would fail me and I would be scored a DNF in the rally. The odds of getting bad gas at two consecutive fill-ups were pretty high so I was confident that it was a bike problem . . . but I had no idea of what it could be. And then, once again, after 30 or so miles of the erratic running and goosing the throttle to keep the gas flowing at high rpm’s, the engine started running smoothly.
When getting gas, I have always filled the tank as far up into the tank neck as possible, sometimes even spilling out onto the outside of the tank. My thoughts about the rough running were boiling down to the fact that the over filling was blocking the tank vent (which runs to a charcoal filter canister and not the atmosphere) that was creating some sort of vacuum that wasn’t letting the gas flow well to the injectors. The next gas stop would tell the tale. I would stop filling the tank before gas ran up into the tank neck to see what would happen.
The other significant problem that cropped up after the last gas stop was that the cruise control stopped working. I’ve relied so much on it when on the *super-slabs* that I wasn’t sure if I could ride the bike at a relatively aggressive and steady pace for the next seven or eight days without it. So, there I was . . . riding thru rural Ontario heading west trying to rest my right hand as much as possible and also keep up the pace needed to get to the Pickle Barrel House before dark. I regretted not bringing the “wrist rest” throttle bracket with me thinking, at the time, I wouldn’t need it but also knowing that I could buy one at the BMW shop in St. Louis when I got back there for the mid-rally service that was scheduled.
Another melt-down that had happened was that the XM radio stopped working as a result (I’m relatively sure) of drowning in the rain on the first day. What that meant was that I would have questionable radio reception when in the “sticks”. At least the bike was running smoothly and, for me, that was the most important issue at the time.
About 4:30 pm I got to Sault Ste. Marie. Traffic was backed up on the bridge to the U.S. and it took about 30 minutes to get cleared thru customs. Actually, once I got to the customs check point it only took two minutes to produce my passport and answer all the questions properly to be let back in the country. I immediately exited I-75 to get gas and something to eat.
My credit card still didn’t work. The clerk at the gas c-store was kind enough to let me use his cell phone to call the credit card company to get the card reinstated. It took about 30 minutes to get the gas (I didn’t over fill the tank), eat, and deal with the credit card company. I needed to get back on the road to get to Grand Marias before dark. As I drove south on I-75 I was pleasantly surprised when no erratic engine activity occurred. I solved the engine problem which, as it turned out was my problem, not the bikes. Also, the cruise control started working again. Life was good!
I turned west on MI 28, a pretty straight shot across the “You Pee” to MI Rt. 77 and then north to Grand Marais. I got to the Pickle Barrel House about 7:30 pm. As I was taking the photo to get the bonus points Rob Nye, an IBR veteran also riding a BMW R1200RT (police model), rode up to the PBH. We talked briefly and I mentioned the problem I had with the cruise control and he said that sometimes the CANBus computerized electrical system gets quirky like most computers and the bike needs to be turned off and then on again so that the system can re-boot itself. Another miracle of modern technology designed to make life simpler, huh?
I rode back south on MI Rt. 77. Several IBR riders passed me going north, up to the Pickle Barrel House. Rob Nye soon passed me going south, in my direction, following the same route I was taking. About the time I got to US 2 at Lake Michigan a light drizzle began. The rain (nowhere near as intense as on day – 1) pretty much stayed with me on the ride along the western shore of Lake Michigan / Green Bay. I could tell that it was raining because the “brake failure” light was flashing. By this time it had gotten dark and my goal was to ride until I felt tired and then stop for the night. The next bonus location on my route was the Harley-Davidson main office in Milwaukee and I couldn’t score it before 8:00 am the next morning and I was only about 3 - 4 hours away when I got to Menominee, MI about 10:30 pm so I decided to stop for the evening and sleep until 4:00 am the next morning . . . getting 5 hours of much anticipated sleep. It was a long day . . . 960 miles in about 19 hours, with the added stress of dealing with the rough running motor, the cruise control glitch, and the sporadic GPS voice prompts. The other issue that was starting to annoy me was the diaper rash / monkey butt I managed to acquire as a result of getting wet . . . pretty much all over . . . during the first day’s ride. It had become steadily worse each day and every time I got off the bike it was becoming progressively harder to get back on. Stopping for the night to take the pressure off was welcomed by my butt. I thought that changing the name of my ride to the Monkey Butt Rally would be appropriate at this time. After the call home I quickly fell asleep with the Weather Channel forecasts droning in the background.
Friday, August 24, 2007 . . . IBR Day – 5
I checked out of the motel at 4:30 am. I was pleasantly surprised to see the night clerk at the motel cleaning the windshield of the bike as I got to it. She was interested in why someone was up and about so early and I briefly explained the IBR to her and got the typical blank stare and the “are you crazy” comments.
I headed south through Green Bay and then connected with I-43 south to Milwaukee. It was a good feeling knowing that this was the last day of the first leg of the rally and I only had about 600 miles to go within the next 14 hours . . . *piece-o-cake*. And the weather forecast looked relatively good for the trip, too. As I had made it a point to watch the Weather Channel each night to check the forecast for the next day along my planned route, I noticed the previous night that the areas of southern Michigan, northern Ohio, and west over to Chicago had been inundated with heavy rains on Thursday. The drizzle that I rode thru the previous evening was on the western fringe of the rainy weather. I was glad not to have tried to pick up bonus points in those stormy areas. When I arrived at the H-D headquarters about 7:45 am I was, again, pleasantly surprised to see about a dozen other IBR riders waiting for 8:00 am to get the photo of the 1903 Harley in the lobby (2,211 points).
The next bonus location was at the Buell plant in East Troy, Wisconsin, 30 miles away. There was a parade of bikes heading there from Milwaukee and yet another gathering of riders waiting for the office to open at 9:00 am to get a photo of the Buell Ulysses bike in the lobby (3,017 points). While waiting to get the photo I had the opportunity to meet Eric Buell, the founder of the company, now owned by Harley-Davidson.
From this point forward my goal for the day was to ride south to St. Louis to Gateway BMW where I had an appointment to get an oil / filter change and to replace the rear tire. About 2 hours from St. Louis I called Lisa at the IBR headquarters in Chesterfield to confirm the location of the BMW shop. As I was getting close to St. Louis it was becoming obvious that some significant rain was moving in from the west. The stars were definitely aligned for me, though, because as I pulled up to the bike shop about 4:00 pm the rain started and when the service was completed an hour later the rain stopped. I spent some time talking with one of the mechanics about the brake warning light that comes on in the rainy weather and he, also, had no good explanation about where the problem might be occurring.
I left Gateway BMW, stopped for gas to fill up so I wouldn’t have to do it the next morning, and then rode the twenty minutes or so back to Chesterfield and the end of the first leg of the IBR. I got there about 5:30 pm with a real elation that I had finished the first leg of the rally.
Leg 1 Route
The next step was to get scored. I gathered all of my receipts and photos and rally book documentation and headed for the dreaded scoring table. The slightest errors in documentation can lead to the elimination of points associated with the bonus location. I made it through the scoring process ok and was pleasantly surprised to learn that after the first leg I was in 24th place in the rally with 86,296 points . . . not too bad when considering all of the minor issues I had to deal with over the past five days. And most of the top scoring riders on this first leg had also decided to get the north-east / Canada bonus locations which let me know that I was, at least, thinking right in my bonus location evaluations. Had I picked up the bonuses in Marysville and Bath I could have been in 21st place. It was good to be able to talk with many of the other riders to see how they had done. Everyone had a story, or two, to tell about their ride. Most of them centered on what could have been done better including missed bonus opportunities, lost receipts, bike problems, traffic congestion, the weather, and accidents.
I checked into the hotel, got a quick bite to eat, called my mom to wish her “happy birthday” (her 87th), called home, and then went to bed about 9:00 pm with the weather channel glowing in the darkened room. The next *event* of the rally was the riders meeting at 4:00 am Saturday morning when the rally books for the second leg would be distributed and I wanted to be as rested as I could possibly be. I only got about three hours of restful sleep . . . the rest of the time I tossed and turned thinking of what the next day / week would be like, not having any idea about where the next round of bonus locations would take me.
Saturday, August 25, 2007 . . . IBR Day – 6
I was up by 3:30 am, not being able to sleep well over the previous hour or so. Most of the riders were in the meeting room by about ten ‘til four. Half looked ready to ride and half looked pretty beat. I was ready to ride . . . I just didn’t know where I’d be going yet. Right at 4:00 am the rally books were distributed. There were, again, in excess of 100 bonus locations identified . . . all in the west with significant points available in almost 50 California locations and some very high point bonus locations in the north-west, Canada, and Alaska. We were free to get on the road as soon as we were ready. All riders were to be back in Chesterfield no later than 8:00 am on Friday, August 31, 148 hours later. Most of the riders went back to their rooms to spend the time necessary to plan their route for the second leg. A few were on the road very shortly.
I spent two hours analyzing the bonuses and decided: (1) not to go to any of the Alaska bonuses because there would be little time left for me to get to many other additional locations on the way to and from there; (2) not to go to any of the bonuses in the Los Angeles and San Francisco areas in an effort to keep away from anticipated traffic congestion; (3) not to go to any bonus locations requiring significant travel on un-paved or questionable roads; and (4) to seriously consider trying to get to as many of the high-point bonuses in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in eastern California as possible and to develop a route that would allow me to visit other high-point locations on the way to California and back. While going thru this preliminary routing exercise the Weather Channel forecasts for the upcoming week were continuing to keep my attention in the background on the TV. No significant rain was in the forecast in the west. I then went to breakfast to think about this plan.
At the 4:00 am meeting the Arlens (Big and Little) and I decided to have breakfast together after our separate preliminarily analyses of the bonus locations. So, in the dining room we discussed the pros and cons of our respective anticipated routes. It was good to hear how others were looking at the various options, but in the end, I felt that, for me at least, my original plan was still the one that I would try to follow as it would provide enough points to be a “finisher.” Back in my room, I entered all of the bonus locations I intended to try to go to in the Streets & Trips mapping program and started the computer cooking to determine the optimum route to get to them. With time allotted for sleep / rest and food / fuel stops the program predicted a total time for the leg of 140 hours (which I thought would work well because it left 8 hours of *float time* to deal with unanticipated problems). So, after packing the bike I left Chesterfield at about 9:00 am riding south-west on I-44 toward Tulsa and Oklahoma City. There were still about 20 – 30 bikes in the parking lot when I left. My plan was to essentially follow the US Rt. 66 line west to Arizona / California and to ride back east generally following Interstate Highways 80 and 70.
The bonus requirement in Tulsa, OK was to take a photo of the “Golden Driller Man” that memorialized the Oklahoma oil drilling industry. There were only 761 points for this bonus, but it was practically on the way to OK City and only took a brief time to get. The ride to Tulsa was in light traffic and it was the first time I didn’t stop along I-44 at the “World’s Largest McDonald’s” that spans the Interstate in Vinita, OK. The Driller Man was located in front of an exposition center in the suburbs of the city. Michele (the name I’ve given to my Garmin GPS voice prompt in response to an encounter I previously had with Michele Smith of the TV show, “American Thunder”) directed me to an address in a residential neighborhood a block away from the Driller Man . . . I was semi-lost. So, I knocked on the door of the home I was misdirected to and was very courteously pointed in the direction of the correct location by a girl who could have been Michele’s sister. I shoulda stayed around for a while. Anyway, I got the picture and headed back south-west on I-44. I was on a much more noble mission.
Here’s a Photo of Michele and me on my Road Glide (Sept. 2006), just to see if
you’re still awake
Not far out of Tulsa, I caught up with IBR riders Jim Bain and Rick Miller (the Rallymasters of the Cape fear 1000 and the Mason-Dixon 20-20 rallies, respectively, that I participated in earlier in the year) and rode with them to Oklahoma City. The ride was uneventful . . . little traffic, minor slow-downs at the toll booths on the Turner Turnpike, and sunny skies. Several riders were already at the Survivor Tree / Oklahoma City Memorial (3,110 points) near the former Murrah Federal Building that was blown up in 1995. I got the required photo of the tree and headed toward I-40 west. The preliminaries were out of the way, now, and I was now heading toward the west where the *big point* bonuses were located. The next location to visit on my agenda was the White Sands National Monument (7,320 points) in New Mexico. It could only be photographed during daylight hours which meant that I needed to be there when the sun came up the next day, Sunday morning. I was about 640 miles (about 8-9 hours of riding time) away and it was 4:00 pm when I left OK City. My plan was to ride ‘til I got tired, stop to sleep for a few hours and then ride to White Sands where I should arrive about dawn. I stopped briefly to eat in Groom, Texas (where, each time I pass thru there I get a copy of the Groom News . . . for Bob Groom, who I work with) and then rode on to Tucumcari, New Mexico where I stopped at 10:30 pm for the night. I worried, during the first leg of the rally, about the time that I was losing when I stopped to sleep at night. After a few days it became apparent to me that all of the riders would have to stop in order to maintain their abilities to compete and were also losing time, so now that stopping for sleep / rest was no longer an issue for me, I was actually looking forward to this rest stop. I turned on the Weather Channel, called home, and fell asleep. I had ridden about 880 miles since leaving Chesterfield, MO.
Sunday, August 26, 2007 . . . IBR Day 7
I had about a 250 mile, 3 hour ride to the White Sands Monument and left Tucumcari about 2:30 am heading west on I-40 and then south on US 54. I made good time because there was little traffic and I was alert from the recent sleep. There’s nothing like riding thru the desert in the early morning and watching the skies brighten in the east an hour or so before sunrise. It’s pretty special. The only thing I missed seeing was any UFO activity which has been so often reported in these parts in the past. I stopped for a bite to eat in Carrizozo, NM and then headed south thru Alamogordo and then to White Sands. I had to wait about 20 minutes for the sky to brighten enough to get a good picture (a few pics were prematurely taken in light that was too dim).
White Sands National Monument Sign
The next immediate goal was to get gas back in Alamogordo, 15 miles north on US-70. As I stopped at the pump of the first gas station I came to on the southern outskirts of the town I was shocked to see one of the local law enforcement vehicles in my mirrors right behind me . . . with the light bar lit up like a Christmas tree. So shocked, that as I got off my bike . . . IT . . . FELL . . . OVER . . . on its left side (apparently the kick stand wasn’t locked in position or, in the excitement of it all, I didn’t put it down). My first thought was to get the bike up on its kickstand so I walked (limped . . . I had a pulled muscle in my left leg as a result of trying to keep the bike upright during its slow motion tip-over) back to the officer and asked him if he would be so kind as to help me raise the bike. He was accommodating and the bike was back upright after about a minute of lying on its side. But then, it appeared that I was going to be his first customer of the day, as he asked me for my license & registration. I asked if it would be ok if I filled the gas tanks while he was *doing his job* and he said that would be fine. After the fill-up he explained to me that he got me on his radar at 10 mph over the speed limit and that he was going to cite me for speeding. [This, I couldn’t believe . . . it was Sunday morning about 6:30, there was no (as in none) traffic, the weather was clear, the road was four lanes wide and straight, and I was riding in a safe responsible manner . . . in my opinion, anyway]. It became quickly obvious to me that I just got caught in a speed trap designed to bolster the treasury of the town. I could either contest the charge (and return to Alamogordo in about a month) or send a check ($120.00) to the city clerk within 30 days. I, obviously, had no luck in getting out of the charge. So, after about fifteen minutes I was left at the pump with a traffic ticket in hand . . . and no gas receipt. To top it all off, the pump didn’t print a receipt so I had to limp into the c-store to get the receipt . . . and then I had to write the location on it because it wasn’t printed on the receipt. A five minute gas stop just turned into 30 minutes.
Needless to say, it felt good to get back on the road. My leg, thankfully, didn’t hurt while on the bike. The *monkey butt* soreness acquired a few days earlier was still with me and wasn’t getting any better. I was alternating between using and not using the Beadrider seat cover. I headed back to I-25 north to Albuquerque, NM and then west, again on I-40. The next major location I was going to was Cape Royal on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon (12,978 points) but I planned on picking up two smaller bonuses on the way; the Rt. 66 Wigwam Motel (1,845 points) in Holbrook, Arizona and the Rt. 66 Jackrabbit Trading Post (677 points) at exit 269 0n AZ I-40.
The Wigwam was just a few minutes off the Interstate and it was an easy bonus to get. At the Jackrabbit Trading Post the instructions were to take a picture of the giant Jackalope. I stopped at the old Rt. 66 sign with the painted Jackalope on it and got the picture. As I was riding away I noticed a statue of a giant Jackalope over by the Trading Post and wasn’t sure if that was the right picture to get or not, so I stopped again and got another photo . . . as it turned out, the second picture was the correct one to get.
The Jackalope sign, not the statue
At Flagstaff I turned north on US 89 toward the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. In the Painted Desert the temperature rose above 110, the first time during the rally the temperature got above 100 degrees. The Camelback water system was very welcome. It was the first time I had used it on the rally. I rode on to Marble Canyon and then west to Jacob Lake, the turn-off to the North Rim, where I stopped to gas up and rest for a few minutes. Just as I was leaving Jacob Lake to head south to the North Rim Peter Leap and John Tomasovitch, two IBR riders seen back at Perce’ Rock, passed me going south, too. I followed them to the Grand Canyon and had a lively conversation with them over the CB radio during the 60+ miles of riding.
The first (and only) bonus location glitch was at the turn-off road to Cape Royal. The road was closed due to *fire control* by the park service. The IBR rules state that under such circumstances it’s ok to take a photo of the “road closed” sign and of any other proof of lack of access and points for the bonus will still be awarded. So, we all got photos of the signs. About five other riders arrived at the closed road while I was there. I rode down to the visitor center at the North Rim to get additional documentation (a receipt and a photo at the lodge overlook) to document my presence at the Grand Canyon in addition to the “road closed” sign.
At the Grand Canyon North Rim Overlook
The ride back north to Jacob Lake seemed like it would last forever. I was riding in relatively light, summer weight, gear due to the heat earlier in the day but it was getting late in the evening and the temperature had dropped into the high 60’s by this time. My plan was to stop at Jacob Lake for a sit-down meal (the first I would have in over a week) and then ride toward I-15 until I felt like stopping for the night. The timeline I was on had me arriving at Death Valley at dawn the next morning when the three bonus locations there could be photographed. Well, I got to Jacob Lake and was hungry, cold, and tired. I was shaking as I was eating and knew that I didn’t want to continue any more for this day. So I got the last available room there for the night. Actually, it was more like a cabin . . . with no phone (the wake-up call would be a knock on the door) or TV to check the weather. It was about 9:30 pm and it had been a long day.
Monday, August 27, 2007 . . . IBR Day 8
All of the IBR participants were cautioned prior to starting the rally, just seven days earlier, that sometime during the 7th to the 9th day of the rally you would get that *what the hell am I doing here . . . I’m gonna hang it up . . . this is ridiculous* type of feeling and may want to pull the plug on the rally. Well, every morning when I got up (after, typically, 3 – 4 hours of sleep) I never had that feeling. I was on a mission. I never looked farther ahead than just what my riding plan for the day was, without getting too overwhelmed and consumed with thinking about the entire rally, which, I believe, helped me to keep from wanting to quit. Anyway, I left Jacob Lake about 1:30 am heading west toward Las Vegas and then Death Valley. There was a 3,112 point bonus in downtown LV for taking a photo of the Statue of Liberty in front of the New York, New York Casino. The bonus was available anytime of the day or night and I anticipated getting there around 5:00 am or so. The ride to I-15 in Utah thru the early morning darkness was pretty uneventful. As I got to the Interstate I ran into a little drizzly rain (my friend the “brake failure” light began flashing again) and I stopped in St. George, UT to get gas and grab a bite to eat (probably the worst breakfast egg-biscuit sandwich I’ve ever had). I also called in to IBR headquarters to report my location and destination for 2,077 points. I didn’t see any weather forecasts for the day the night before (no TV in the room) so I was unaware of the predicted heavy storms in the Las Vegas area in the morning. The clerk in the c-store dropped that bomb on me. It was about 3:30 am when I got back on the road heading south-west toward LV and although I ran past the drizzle, I could plainly see the lightning flashing in the distance . . . in the direction I was going. In my mind, there was nothing to do but ride until the conditions became unbearable / unsafe and stop until the rain passed thru. As I approached Las Vegas, the lightning was so close that I could hear the noise of the thunder over the sounds of the bike and the wind . . . almost too close for comfort. The Interstate in the city was wet, but there was no rain . . . it must have passed thru about a half hour or so before I got there. I did get held up for about 15 minutes in traffic that was backed up behind a trailer truck that jackknifed on the wet highway. I finally got to “The Strip” and parked right in front of the Statue of Liberty on Tropicana Avenue. The only light available to illuminate the Statue was from the Excalibur electronic billboard sign across the street. The first two photos didn’t come out and I was concerned that I would have to wait an hour or so for better light (it was about 5:00 am). I noticed that the Excalibur sign alternated with red, blue, and white backgrounds as it cycled thru its messages and I waited until the white background came on and tried another photo . . . it worked . . . just enough light to get a dim, but readable, picture.
The Statue of Liberty in Very dim morning light
The rally flag is hanging on the CB antenna
Although I briefly looked for him while in “sin city”, I determined that Elvis was not in the house, so left Las Vegas. I rode south from “The Strip” for a few miles and then turned west on NV 106 over to Death Valley. It was apparent that I missed the rain which I was grateful for. The ride over to Pahrump (home of the famous Chicken Ranch) was highlighted by the rising sun behind me which reminded me of the ride thru the desert in New Mexico just 24 hours earlier when I also watched the sun rise. From Pahrump over to Death Valley Junction I was truly riding in the desert. The first DV bonus was the Amargosa Opera House in Death Valley Junction (1,410 points). The second “Oh, Shit!” *close call* of the rally for me happened about a quarter mile from the Opera House. I was riding along at about 60 mph with the Opera House in sight . . . not paying much attention to the road . . . and all of a sudden I noticed what appeared to be a fast running stream running across a low spot the road (evidentally some run-off from the storm that passed thru earlier) not 30 yards or so in front of me. I managed to get the bike slowed to what I assumed was about 30 – 40 mph by the time I hit the water which was about a foot or so deep and about 20 – 30 feet wide. I pulled in the clutch, picked my feet up off the pegs, and plowed across the stream creating a record setting bow wave from the front wheel. Thankfully, I made it across without any damage, although the bike got pretty wet. At least the ABS didn’t short out. Anyway, that was another lesson learned . . . be sure to always keep your eyes on the road!
I pulled up to the Opera House and saw Brian Roberts there. He commented on my water borne approach. Brian’s Polaroid camera wasn’t working properly and I offered to take pictures for him if he wanted to ride along with me until he could get another camera. After I got my picture we rode into Death Valley. It was about 7:30 am and the temperature was 95 degrees. Needless to say, the weather was sunny. We rode south in the valley to Bad Water, the lowest point in the western hemisphere (2,345 points) at 282 feet below sea level . There were a few water / mud washes across low spots in the road from the recent rain. I was much more careful approaching these hazards that I had been earlier in the morning at the stream crossing. Brian fiddled a bit with his camera and it started working again. His next destination was gas . . . mine was to ride to Scotties Castle (4,996 points) at the north end of Death Valley, about 75 miles from Bad Water. The ride was uneventful . . . the temperature was rising . . . my left leg was aching . . . and my butt was raw in places. But life was still pretty good.
Riding back south from Scotties Castle, my next goal was to get gas in Stovepipe Wells on the western side of Death Valley. The thermometer there read 108. I stayed inside the gas station / store for about 20 minutes to cool down. While there I met a guy from Germany riding a rented Harley that he was riding from Los Angeles to Washington, D.C. We had a nice chat about riding but he couldn’t comprehend exactly what I was doing, and about that time I also had a hard time trying to grasp what I had been through so far and what would lie in store for me over the next four days.
My next bonus location was the General Sherman Tree, the World’s largest living organism, in Sequoia National Park (8,704 points). While talking with Brian R. he asked if I was planning on riding to the “Trona Pinnacles” (4,787 points) which was on the way to Sequoia. My response was “no” because of the warning given in the rally book that stated, “. . . the Pinnacles overlook is on an unpaved road approximately 4.5 miles south of CA-178 . . . Note: This road is impassible if it has been raining. Do NOT get stuck in mud.” My original plan was to avoid unpaved roads and, even though there were lots of points just 4.5 miles off the *beaten path*, I decided to pass this bonus and head across the Sierra Nevada Mountains to Sequoia National Park.
At a stop for gas in Ridgecrest a guy in a pickup truck pulled up next to me and asked if I was in the Iron Butt Rally. He was familiar with the rally and said I looked as if I might be in it. I confirmed his suspicions and he wished me luck. He also said that he was good friends with Dick Peek (or maybe it was Dick Fish) who was also in the rally and to say “hi” to him. I said I would . . . (but, I forgot and didn’t).
The ride across the Sierras to the western side on CA-178 was windy, twisty, and slow, but very picturesque. I was getting constant voice prompts from Michele at every turn in the road. I also discovered that I had mistakenly entered the wrong location for Sequoia Park (using Sequoia National Forest) and ended up riding in circles for about a half hour before I figured out what I had done. Michele’s “RECALCULATING !” messages were wearing thin. Once back on track, I rode north to CA-198 and then east into Sequoia NP. The ride thru the park was slow due to the normal summer tourist traffic and some very minor road construction . . . it was a little frustrating, but my sense was that all riders who chose to get this bonus had to deal with the same slow-down. I got to the General Sherman Tree about 7:00 pm, limped up several steps to the tree, and got the required picture. Again, I met another IBR rider at the tree who had just come from Mono Hot Springs, my next destination. He said that I could get there in about an hour and a half which would get me there before dark (it was a “daylight hours” only bonus). My thought was if I could get there before dark I could get the photo and ride ‘til about midnight and then stop for the night to get the “rest bonus” (7,723 points) that had to begin on Tuesday. Well, the traffic leaving the park was just as slow as it was entering. The sun was down before I left it and I rode to the little burg of Squaw Valley and stopped for the night at a mom & pop motel where I got the last available room. The owner was worried about my bike and offered to let me park it in a secluded place but because of my limp I opted to park right in front of my room to keep form walking too much. There was a c-store nearby and at midnight I got a 12:01 am receipt to document the start of the rest bonus and went back to the motel to sleep for five hours.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007 . . . IBR Day 9
I got up about 4:30 am, packed the bike, and went to the gas station next door to get a 5:01 am receipt. The early morning sky was highlighted by the later stages of a lunar eclipse. Then it was off to Mono Hot Springs (12,667 points) located high in the center of the Sierras. The instructions in the rally book stated, “Mono Hot Springs . . . may not be on many regional maps.” I checked the Streets & Trips mapping program, the GPS, and the paper map of California and all of them indicated the location of Mono Hot Springs as well as a “solid line” indicating the road leading to it. MHS is advertised as “a wilderness vacation retreat deep in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.” This seemed like a relatively easy place to go to for the amount of points it offered. The ride up into the mountains was actually pretty smooth and quick until I got to this *goat path* of a trail called Kaiser Pass Road with a sign indicating that Mono Hot Springs was 13 miles away. Well, this was the roughest, rockiest, boulder strewn, non-existent piece of “nothing like a road” that I’ve ever encountered. It took an hour to go that 13 miles along a path that, in places, wasn’t 8 feet wide with severe drop-offs to the valleys thousands of feet below. And to top it off, there was a 50 yard long, rattling, wood slat floor, one-lane bridge over the San Joaquin river gorge that had to be crossed to get to the “general store – post office” bonus in this most remote location. In my opinion, the only decent transportation to this place was a dirt bike or a Hummer or a helicopter or, best of all, a horse. This jostling around on the bike seat also didn’t do much to ease the ever present monkey butt rash that was continuing to haunt me. Because of my sore left leg it was difficult to stand on the foot pegs to keep from aggravating the rash and adjacent anatomy. A survivor of this road should be awarded an “Iron Nutt” certificate . . . for those riders so equipped. What was somewhat humbling, though, was being passed by another IBR participant (obviously a much better off-road rider than me) heading out there, too. When I got to MHS I found a pretty neat (definitely off-the-beaten-path) kind of vacation place. I spoke briefly with the IBR guy who was just getting ready to leave, got the required photo, had a cold drink, and headed back to the Kaiser Pass Road (better named the Kaiser Pass *Ruts & Rubble* Road) for the 13 mile / one hour ride back to civilization. This was the most memorable (and difficult) bonus location I visited during the Rally. Back on the *hard road* I then headed to the next bonus location on my route, Yosemite National Park, God’s country.
The highest point bonus location in California was the Lick Observatory in Mt. Hamilton (24,057 points). Because it was on the western side of the state where I was more concerned about traffic and because the rally book alluded to a less than ideal road leading to it (I never confirmed the road condition with any of the riders who went there) I decided to pass up on the observatory bonus. As it turned out, all of the top placing riders went there. Had I chosen to go there the points increase would have been offset by the loss of points by not going to other planned locations. I never calculated what that net increase may have been.
The ride to the two bonuses in Yosemite was on familiar roads that I’d traveled before. The first bonus was at Glacier Point (10,234 points). To get the points I had to take a photo of Half Dome from the Glacier Point overlook. The walk from the parking lot to the overlook was about a quarter of a mile on a hilly path. It took about 30 minutes to limp to the overlook and back. My left leg seemed to tighten up when I was on the bike for extended periods of time and when I got off it hurt more than when I could exercise it normally. I’d been to this location several times in the past and always enjoyed hanging around for an hour or so . . . unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do much sight-seeing this time. The next bonus was at the Ahwahnee Hotel in Yosemite Valley (4,567 points). A sporadic light sprinkle of a rain was occurring in the valley when I got there (but not enough to trigger the “brake failure” light). I followed Vance Keeney to the hotel and we took each other’s pictures at the National Historic Landmark plaque necessary to get the bonus points.
The Historic Landmark Plaque at the Ahwahnee Entrance
Vance had just come from the Bridgeport Covered Bridge bonus in Grass Valley and he gave me some helpful advice on getting there. Rick Miller arrived at the hotel as I was getting ready to leave. He told me that his next stop was at Mono Hot Springs. I told him of my experience and he felt he could make it there ok . . . on his Gold Wing! I would later learn that the Kaiser Pass Road to MHS was closed (due to a forest fire) and he got the bonus points without having to make the *ride thru Hell*. Sometimes there is no justice. Anyway, after spending more time than I should have at the Ahwahnee I headed out of the valley and over to CA-49 north to Grass Valley. There were two bonuses within a few hundred yards of each other in Grass Valley . . . the Covered Bridge (3,314 points) and the Kneebone Cemetery (2,786 points) . . . both available only during daylight hours.
CA-49 is a two lane twisty road with many small towns along it. My average speed was well below what I needed it to be in order to get to Grass Valley before dark. Michele predicted an ETA of about 7:30 pm, but the bonus locations were about 15 miles from the town of Grass Valley and the directions to the bridge and cemetery were a little vague. The closer I got to the locations the lower the sun got in the sky. The sun went below the horizon about 7:15 or so but the sky was still relatively bright and the bonus directions only said that “daylight” was required. Well, bridges are usually located over rivers and rivers always run in valleys and as I was riding down into the valley, the light became dimmer due to the hills on either side of the river . . . not good for taking outdoor pictures. I passed the cemetery (where a few riders were taking pictures) and rode about a hundred yards to the bridge. It took about three tries to get a decent photo of the bridge with the dimly lit sky in the background.
The Information Plaque at the Bridgeport Covered Bridge
The Bridge is undetectable right behind the plaque, but the dusk sky is still
lit
Now it was time to get to the cemetery . . . quickly. As I was riding up the drive from the covered bridge I got too close to the pavement edge and the bike dropped over the edge about 8” to the dirt berm adjacent to the pavement. There I was, pointing up-hill, sitting on the bike with about an 8” rise to the pavement on the left and about a ten foot drop-off to a lower level by the river about two feet away on my right and not able to get off the bike (the kick stand wouldn’t go down due to the pavement height), and not able to coast backward because of the 8” pavement ridge behind the bikes rear wheel. I felt like a turtle on its back . . . and it was getting darker by the minute and was hard to see well to assess the gravity of the situation. My worst fear was that the bike would fall over to the right and down the hill on its right side and that I might tumble with it. I sat there for about a minute or so (it felt like an eternity) and then Bob Mueller, who had just got his bridge picture came to my rescue and helped me move the bike back to the drive. He stood on the down-hill side of the bike to keep it from falling over while I gradually rocked the bike up and back until it got enough momentum to roll back onto the pavement. That was “Close Call No. 3”. It had taken about 10 minutes to deal with this “issue” and when I got back to the cemetery it was too dark to even find the path leading to the headstone to be photographed, much less to be able to find the headstone. So, the extra time I spent back in Yosemite “socializing” came back to haunt me. Had I been about 15 – 20 minutes earlier I could have had an additional 2,786 points.
I rode back to Grass Valley and stopped to get gas and get a receipt documenting my presence in the area during the waning “daylight” hours in case there was a question about the dimly lighted sky in the bridge photo. By this time it was about 8:30 – 9:00 pm and it was finally time to head “back east”.
While riding north along the western Sierras during the day I would periodically check the ETA back to Chesterfield, MO to make sure that I wasn’t running out of time to return before Friday morning. So far I was still, roughly, on the original anticipated schedule which still left adequate time for rest. Now that I was finally riding east again (I-80), I did an ETA test and was still on schedule. I rode back across the Sierras and Donner Pass where it was colder than I had anticipated in the higher elevations, and on to Sparks, Nevada where I stopped for the night. It had been a long and eventful day, starting with the lunar eclipse and the MHS “this really isn’t a road” ride and ending with the covered bridge “close call” incident. I called home to say that I was still ok and laid down for a much anticipated sleep about 11:30 pm.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007 . . . IBR Day 10
I was up and back on the road about 3:30 am. Although I had gathered most of the planned points I intended to get in California (except for the Kneebone Cemetery) there were still several “big-point” bonus locations to go to on the way back to Chesterfield. I headed east on I-80 across Nevada and stopped in Lovelock for gas and breakfast. As I was sitting in MacDonald’s eating an egg biscuit and re-checking my route on the laptop, Brian Roberts walked in and we talked briefly about the ride, so far. It was absolutely amazing how often I met up with other riders along my route.
I rode east on I-80 and stopped in Battle Mountain about 6:00 am for gas and to call in to IBR headquarters to report my location (2,000 points). I then continued across the Nevada desert to Wendover, NV to get the bonus photo of “Wendover Willie” (2,878 points) a giant cowboy statue on the west side of town. Several other IBR riders were also there getting their points. After the picture, gas, and a drink I headed out. From Wendover it was east across the Bonneville Salt Flats to Salt Lake City. The 70 mile straight stretch on the Salt Flats required no counter steering . . . just steady hands on the grips (and the cruise control came in handy, too).
The Salt Lake City bonus (1,021 points) was to get a photo of one of the painted bulls at the State Capitol. Michele guided me thru some obscure back streets directly to the bonus. I sat down under a tree to rest for a while after getting the picture and reviewed the directions to the next bonus location on my route, a photo of the stegosaurus at the Dinosaur National park (9,102 points) in eastern Utah . . . about 200 miles away and I had to be there before 5:00 pm. It was about 1:15 pm and I needed to get on the road if I was to get there on time with some time cushion, just in case. So, my planned rest at the Salt Lake City capitol was cut short . . . no rest for the weary.
The ride across US 40 would have been much more pleasant if not for the time constraint I was under. I did stop for 15 minutes to get gas and a bite to eat along the way. I got to the Stegosaurus at 4:45 pm. After taking the picture I bought a souvenir (refrigerator magnet) to get a receipt indicating my time at the park. As I was heading back to US 40 another IBR rider passed me heading to the dinosaur. It was 4:58 pm . . . I don’t think he made it on time.
Bonus hunting for this day was over and my next goal was to get as close to Independence Pass in the Colorado Rocky Mountains as possible in order to get a photo there at dawn the next day. The ride for the rest of the day was US-40 east to Colorado-64, and to CO-13 south to I-70. I got to Rifle, CO on I-70 about 9:00 pm and was tired but I pressed on east on I-70 . . . my goal for the day was to get to Aspen where I’d planned to spend the night, but when I got to Glenwood Springs about 9:30 pm I decided to stop for the night. I was just too tired to continue and it really didn’t matter when I stopped . . . I’d just get up a little earlier to get up to Independence Pass at sunrise which was only about two hours from Glenwood Springs. So, knowing I could sleep for about 5 hours, I got a take-out sandwich from the Arby’s across the street, turned on the Weather Channel, called home, and fell asleep.
Thursday, August 30, 2007 . . . IBR Day – 11
Here it was, the last full day of the rally. Where had all the time gone? I was on the road about 4:00 am (5:00 am Central time), I was about 1200 miles away from Chesterfield, MO, and I had 27 hours to get back there and felt I could make it in 23 – 24 hours (although my original plan at the beginning of this leg was to get back by about midnight, if there were no delays along the route). No problem under normal circumstances . . . these weren’t normal circumstances . . . it was the last day of the Iron Butt Rally . . . anything could happen. Over 20,000 points were along my planned route. Riding up into the Rockies on CO-82 in the early morning was cool (temp. in the 40’s) and refreshing. I got to Independence Pass (4,341 points) about 5:45 am and had to wait about 30 minutes until the sky was light enough to get a decent photograph.
Independence Pass before Sunrise
While there I struck up a conversation with a Goldwing rider (not in the IBR) who had camped at the pass for the night. I told him of my journey over the previous 10 days and he looked at me in disbelief. I’m not sure whether he ever actually believed my story. But then again, I really didn’t care. From Independence Pass it was down the mountain and on to Tennessee Pass (4,320 points) just north of Leadville, CO, the highest incorporated town in the U.S. From Tennessee Pass I doubled back to Leadville and then rode north on CO-91 back to I-70.
The next bonus was the Steve Canyon Statue (878 points) in Idaho Springs, CO. Between getting back on I-70 just west of Frisco and Idaho Springs I got very sleepy and pulled off the road at Dillon to get something to eat and some coffee. I was so tired that I missed seeing a stop sign in Dillon and ran right thru it . . . “Close call No. 4”. My attention / concentration was starting to get very sloppy. After some food and caffeine I felt much better and more alert. Although it was a relatively small-point bonus, the Steve Canyon Statue was too close to my route not to get it. Then it was back west on I-70 to US-40 and US-34 into Rocky Mountain National Park and Milner Pass (6,320 points).
The Bike at Milner Pass
By the time I got to the pass it was 11:15 am (just after noon in Missouri . . . I needed to focus on the time in Chesterfield and put the Mountain and Pacific time zones out of my head ). Over the past five hours I had been able to get all of the planned Colorado bonuses. I now had less than 20 hours to go the last 950 miles to Chesterfield, mostly all on I-70. So, I continued east on US 34 thru Rocky Mountain National Park and very shortly came upon some very slow moving traffic and a stretch of road under construction. I was trapped. It took about two hours, an hour longer than I had planned, to get back to I-25 south and then to I-70 east. Once back to the Interstate the ride east was easy and I had some time to relax and reflect back on the rally. I think the thought of the rally being almost over started to make me complacent and my mind kept wandering and I found myself getting tired. I pulled over at a rest stop somewhere in western Kansas to get a catnap for a few minutes. And then a few hours later, after the sun went down, I pulled over again to rest for about a half hour. General lack of sleep and the realization that in a few hours I could sleep as much as I wanted to were making me more tired than I had ever been during the rally. The adrenalin rush wasn’t there anymore.
I got to the Garmin Plant bonus (3,189 points) in Olathe, Kansas (just south of Kansas City) at 1:15 am, Friday, August 31, Central time and, again, found several other IBR riders already there and a few arriving as I was leaving. Thankfully, the bonus location was available anytime, day or night.
The Garmin Entrance Sign
I was now 250 miles from Chesterfield with less than 7 hours left to get there . . . which, under normal circumstances could usually be done in a little less than four hours. I got back to I-70 east and was headed to the last bonus location on my route . . . the six Ionic Columns at the University of Missouri in Columbia, MO. Riding east in western Missouri, I, once again, began to get drowsy and decided to stop for gas and to rest for a while. “Close call No. 5” happened as I was slowing down to exit the Interstate. The exit wasn’t lit very well and I started to veer off the road (at what I thought was the exit) about 100 yards before the exit ramp started. I was almost in the grassy berm leading to a drainage ditch when I realized what was about to happen and quickly got the bike straightened out to get to the real exit. That, in my tired state, was truly an “Oh, Shit!” moment. I stopped at the gas station at the exit, filled up the tank, and sat down and leaned against the gas pump to rest. I nodded off for about 30 minutes and awoke when another IBR rider pulled up for gas. After getting a “red bull” energy drink (first one of the rally) I got back on the road to Columbia. I got to the University and had to take four pictures to get a decent shot of the columns (1,910 points) in the dim light.
The Columns at Columbia University
It was about 5:00 am when I got back to the Interstate and the last leg to the end . . . about 100 miles away. This was it . . . the last push. I was watching the Zumo GPS like a hawk as it counted down the miles to go as I got closer to Chesterfield. The “red bull” was working . . . I couldn’t even blink my eyes, I was so wired up. At about 6:00 am the sky began to lighten in the east and I felt a rush of energy as I knew I had almost made it. As I turned onto US-61 to Chesterfield Michele was telling me that I had 20 miles to go. The only thought in my head at that time was “Don’t *#@k-up now” which I was screaming in my helmet over and over until I got to exit 19, leading to the IBR headquarters hotel and the finish.
The thrill of entering the hotel parking lot can never be repeated. I pulled up to the finish line at 6:30 am, an hour and a half before penalties would be imposed for being late, and about four hours after I had planned on arriving. Many other bikes had already arrived and several riders were hanging out in the parking lot. Dale “Warchild” Wilson, the rally Technical Inspector (it seemed like an eternity since he started us in the rain 11 days earlier), was there at the finish line and he asked if I was ok and explained the next steps necessary to get officially finished and scored.
Getting parking directions from “Warchild”at the Finish
I parked the bike and was happy to see several friends there to greet me. We talked briefly and I said I’d get back with them once I got thru the scoring process. I reported to the rally committee to get the official ending time and to return the emergency response card (that all riders were required to wear . . . continuously) for 4,000 bonus points.
Leg – 2 Route
Me, Harry K., and John F. at the end of the ride
Getting my paperwork together to get scored
I, then, checked into my room and got all of my receipts, pictures, and the rally book together to take to the scoring table to validate the points that I had gotten. It took about an hour to make sure that everything was in order and I went down to the scoring room. It was buzzing with activity and I had to wait a few minutes to sit with my scorer. One by one, he went over all of the bonus locations I had claimed and all were in order. Then he checked the rest bonus and call-in bonus documentation and it was all in order. And finally, he went over all of the gas receipts and, lo and behold, found a mistake. Way, way back on Sunday when I didn’t get a receipt at the pump where I had my encounter with Alamogordo’s “finest” and had to get a receipt inside the c-store and then write the location on the receipt, I forgot, as the rally instructions require, to check to see if the phone number of the location was on the receipt and, if it isn’t, to write that on the receipt, too. Well, there was no phone number there . . . so, I was docked 500 points. That whole episode with the fallen bike, the LEO, and my sprained leg just wouldn’t go away. But, other than that, I ended up with 137,799 points for the leg, visiting all but one of my planned bonus locations, the Kneebone Cemetery (2,786 points), due to the extra time I spent hanging around Yosemite National Park. My total point count for the rally was 223,595. I traveled 9,723 miles during the rally in addition to the 1,093 miles to get to Chesterfield and back.
After scoring was over I unloaded the bike and spent some welcome time “socializing” in the parking lot. That didn’t last very long, though. About 10:00 am I went back to my room for a nap. The “red bull” buzz was finally wearing off. I called home to say that I finished the rally and quickly fell asleep. The next event of the rally was the awards dinner at 6:00 pm.
Friday, August 31, 2007 . . . IBR Day 11+1 . . . 4:00 pm
There was nothing like hangin’ out with all of the IBR riders after we all had returned and were rested. The *war stories*, unique experiences, regrets, and unbridled relief that it was finally over were too many to remember. The awards dinner began at 6:00 pm and the banquet room was packed with riders, their friends, and many other IBA members. After a great meal (first decent one in almost two weeks) there were speeches and comments from the organizers of the rally praising the fortitude of all participants, particularly those who essentially planned and rode their rides without any outside help.
Sixty four riders were officially considered “finishers” of the rally. Nine additional riders made it back to Chesterfield but didn’t have enough points to be considered finishers. My heart went out to these guys (and one girl) who rode the distance but, for one reason or other, weren’t able to get the required minimum point total to qualify as a finisher. Twenty four other riders didn’t get to Chesterfield within the time limit due to mechanical breakdowns, mental breakdowns, or accidents and also didn’t qualify as finishers. I felt bad for them, too, knowing the time and costs required over the past year or so to prepare for the event. I remembered when I was asked during the pre-ride interview what I was hoping for and stating that I wished that every rider would finish the rally . . . unfortunately, about a third didn’t.
Plaques were handed out starting with 64th place and moving, finally, up to the top ten and then the winner, Marty Leir, who had placed in the top ten in the past two rallies. It took a minimum of 190,000 points to be considered a “finisher” of the rally. There were three classes of “Medalist Finishers” in the rally: Gold Medalists (28 riders) with point totals in excess of 250,000, Silver Medalists (8 riders) with point totals in excess of 225,000 points, and Bronze Medalists (10 riders) with points in excess of 210,000 points. I ended up in 37th place, a “Bronze Medal” finisher. Had I been able to get an additional 1,405 points I would have made it to “Silver Medal” status. But, with all things considered, I was very happy to be able to limp up to the stage to get the plaque for my efforts during the previous two weeks.
Reiner and me enjoying the satisfaction that it’s over
After the banquet several of us ended up in the bar to round out a very long two weeks with more stories of our experiences. That didn’t last very long, though. The lack of sleep over the past two weeks experienced by everyone soon took its toll and the bar was empty by 10:30 pm.
Saturday, September 1, 2007 . . . IBR Day 11 + 2.
It ‘s needless to say that I wasn’t in any hurry to get up in the morning. I ended up in the dining room for breakfast about 9:00 am. More stories were told about rally experiences and final good-byes were said. I got on the road about 10:30 am heading east on I-64 back home. The ride was pleasant. I stopped four times to rest / eat / gas up and not once did I get a receipt documenting time / location / etc. That felt good. I pulled into the driveway about 7:00 pm. Nancy seemed happy that I got back safely but still, to this day, questions my sanity and the urge I have to ride far places on motorcycles. The monkey butt cured itself in about a week and my limp took another week to finally go away. And I don’t necessarily consider myself just a finisher of the rally . . . I’m a SURVIVOR of the rally.
Reflections
During the four months that have passed since I finished the rally I’ve spent a lot of time re-thinking everything about how I approached, prepared for, and participated in the rally and, in no particular order, these are my thoughts:
The cost to effectively participate in the Iron Butt Rally was not cheap. The following items were all purchased as a result of being selected to participate in the rally and although many of them still have significant residual value today, none of the costs would have been incurred had I not received the “Congratulations” letter in June, 2006. Riding gear and equipment previously owned prior learning of my entrance into the IBR are not included in this list. Costs are rounded off to the nearest $10.00 / $100.00.
|
• BMW R1200RT w / factory options & accessories |
$21,000.00 | |
| • Motorcycle Liability Insurance | 400.00 | |
| • Sargent Seat | 600.00 | |
| • Beadrider seatcover | 40.00 | |
| • Barbacks | 90.00 | |
| • Footpeg brackets | 130.00 | |
| • Motolights | 180.00 | |
| • Hella FF50 lights | 80.00 | |
| • PIAA 1100 lights (not used) | 230.00 | |
| • HID headlight conversions (not used) | 370.00 | |
| • GS mirrors | 120.00 | |
| • Auxiliary gas tank / pump / plumbing | 350.00 | |
| • Pelican Case top box | 250.00 | |
| • CB Radio/Headset | 400.00 | |
| • XM Radio | 60.00 | |
| • Countdown Timer | 10.00 | |
| • Screaming Meanie | 40.00 | |
| • Camelbach Hydralion System | 60.00 | |
| • Garmin Zumo GPS | 750.00 | |
| • Gamin 2730 GPS | 400.00 | |
| • Tank bag/Side bags | 400.00 | |
| • Accessory Fuse Block | 60.00 | |
| • EZ Pass toll transponder/toll fees | 150.00 | |
| • Panasonic Toughbook Laptop computer | 3,200.00 | |
| • Polaroid Cameras/film | 180.00 | |
| • Assorted spare parts/repair stuff | 100.00 | |
| • Electronic wiring labor | 2,100.00 | |
| • Cape Fear 1000 entry fee/expenses | 600.00 | |
| • Mason Dixon 20-20 entry fee/expenses | 700.00 | |
| • BitE entry fee/expenses | 1,100.00 | |
| • 2006 IBA Denver meeting/expenses | 800.00 | |
| • 2007 IBA Jacksonville IBA dinner | 500.00 | |
| • Shakedown ride to Phoenix and back | 700.00 | |
| • IBR entry fee | 1,600.00 | |
| • IBR food expenses | 400.00 | |
| • IBR motel expenses | 1,700.00 | |
| • IBR gas expenses | 820.00 | |
| • IBR phone expenses | 270.00 | |
| • Bike servicing before/during/after the rally | 800.00 | |
| • Gerbing heated jacket liner & gloves | 290.00 | |
| • Olympia riding jacket | 260.00 | |
| • Lightweight gloves | 70.00 | |
| • Nolan N-102 helmet | 240.00 | |
| • Two sets of Metzler Z-6 tires | 440.00 | |
| • Health Club Dues | 600.00 | |
| • Psychological Counseling from friends | 0.00 | |
| • Alamogordo, NM treasury donation | 120.00 | |
| TOTAL COST TO PARTICIPATE | $43,760.00 |
The Iron Butt Association staff (headed by Lisa, Mike, “Warchild”, Ira, Tom, Bill, Dean, Paul, Voni, and Bob, the “IBA Director of Spiritual Affairs”) that managed and directed the rally did an excellent job seeing that everyone was well taken care of. The safety and safe return of all riders was job No. 1 for them and they did an excellent job in stressing this issue. The significant instruction of the day to all of the riders was, “don’t do anything dumb.”
And, finally, lots of thanks goes out to everyone who encouraged and supported me in this endeavor (even though my mental state was constantly being questioned by just about all of them). In addition to many rally participants, these well-wishers were my wife Nancy, my dad, my brother and sister, all my kids, all of the people I work with at ZMM, Bob C., Bob L., John F., Harry K., Bobby P., John McQ, Dale S., Phoebe R., Denver L., Marvin at Holt, Ed T., Roger S., L.J.F., Kathy J., Hoagy C., Mike J., Don S., Wylie at Innovative Fitness, Dennis D., Walter S., Sue B., Buss & Pat S., Jerry N, Scott R., and all the guys and gals at Harley-Davidson of West Virginia and Capital City HOG.
For a full report of the 2007 Iron Butt Rally, including statistics, rider profiles, and updates posted for each day of the rally, go to www.ironbutt.com on the internet and click on “Iron Butt Rally” and then on “2007.”
THE END
Steve Branner
IBA # 351