ok so here is the story behind the butt.. (my first butt at that..)
story and phots (most of them) by d-mac , i was kind of a last min. tag along that wound up with some supporting role.
PART I - Miles 0-310 (Albion MI to Clyde OH to Grove City PA)
In planning this ride, I looked at my schedule and cleared out two days. I really wanted to see some of the county (including states I’d never visited), but I knew I didn’t have much time. I love hills, so I figured I’d hit West Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee. Since I completed my first Saddlesore ride last summer, I felt ready to take it up a notch. By choosing a compromise route of what I thought would be more interesting Interstates (e.g., I-79/I-77 in WV/VA, I-40 in NC/TN), I knew it would cost us time, but it seemed well worth it (and it was). With help from Mapsource, Mapquest, Google Maps, and good ‘ol paper maps, the route was finalized. Steve and I contemplated squeezing in the Dragon as well, but it became clear that it would just be too much to combine with a 1500 mile ride.
MY FZ6: Until two days before the ride, my bike had no name. In fact, none of the cars/ vans/ trucks/ motorcycles/ bicycles/ lawn mowers I’ve owned have had a name. To be honest, it’s always seemed stupid to me to name a piece of machinery. It’s not that I don’t talk to the bikes/cars I’ve owned (and I have been known to coax them from time to time), but no name ever stuck. However, two days before the ride began, I woke up from a dream with a name for my bike. To spare you the details, I dreamed that I was riding the FZ6 on a dirt track somewhere (I don’t know where – and I know that makes no sense). In what seemed to be years of riding, I was somehow riding on mountain roads, dirt tracks, across streams, and even on snow-covered roads. Yeah, I know it seems stupid….but in the dream the bike had a name – the ‘Red Knot’. For those who are into birds, you’ll know that this is a species of small shorebird with a red color that’s critically endangered (likely to go extinct within the next 5 years) and it migrates from the high arctic all the way to southern South America. It’s not weird that I dreamed of a bike-like shorebird since I actually study shorebirds for a living, and I’ve been thinking a lot about Red Knots lately (especially their migration through South America, where I’ve been working a lot). Given that my FZ6 is red, it’s small, and it’s capable of riding long distances, I guess my brain confused the red bird and the red motorcycle somehow. Red Knot it is!
[COLOR="Red"]
The 'Red Knot'. Damn that's a big windshield![/COLOR]
THE START (for me): Albion, Michigan. After catching about 5 hours of sleep, I woke up Friday morning at 4:30am to a chilly day. Temps were in the upper 40s. For me, that’s an ideal temperature since most of my gear is well-suited to the cold. After checking the weather forecast for the route (which turned out to me accurate overall, but completely wrong on certain sections), I tried to eat. No go – I’m a morning person, but I just can’t eat anything for the first few hours I’m awake. Besides, I was too nervous/excited to eat anyway. Steve reports that we woke up around the same time, although he got less sleep as the final prep took longer than he thought it would (I had a similar experience on my first IBA ride). He also had to ride out to meet me (50-80 miles).
After catching a shower and suiting up, I loaded the bike. One side case held stuff for the Red Knot, one had a few extra clothes for me, and the top case was stuffed with misc jackets, a bag for receipts/fuel log/witness forms, and an assortment of gloves.
As expected, my phone rang at about 6:30. It was Steve and he was getting close (10 miles away), so I hurried to meet him at a BP gas station up by the interstate (I-94). He’d already dealt with the cold for over an hour and a major detour on the way over from South Haven. Unfortunately, I must have missed him because he arrived at the station a few minutes before I did and had continued into town (to another gas station we were originally planning to meet). I waited at the BP for 10 minutes and picked up my phone. I noticed that Steve had called, and then heard a bike as he suddenly rode in from the direction of downtown. He’d figured out that I was a few minutes late and had come back to the BP station.
[COLOR="Red"]Steve at the start of my ride in Albion, Michigan (he'd already ridden >50 miles in the cold at this point).[/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Steve's bike. For some reason it attracts bugs more than the Red Knot.[/COLOR]
After warming up and chatting for a few minutes (Steve and I had never met let alone ridden together) we filled up the bikes. Our official starting time for me was 7:01am May 15, 2009. Steve had the choice of using his receipt or starting with an earlier receipt he had closer to home (depending on the return time), but we had to be back in Albion by 7:01 pm the next day. Steve commented on how crazy it was to think we’d be standing at the same gas station 1 ½ days later having ridden a big chunk of the country. He was right!
After filling up, the clock was running. Time to hit the road! The sun was coming up and it was getting a bit warmer. I had the grips turned on for the first hour or so, but the conditions were near perfect. Other than some morning traffic heading into Ann Arbor, it was an easy ride. We both took a few pics as we were riding along and the miles breezed by.
[COLOR="red"]Merging on the I-94E ramp at the start of the ride.[/COLOR]
After taking I-94 from Albion to Ann Arbor, we cut south on US-23 (another 4-lane highway that connects to I-80 among other things). Near Toledo, my GPS told me to take a highway I wasn’t familiar with, but I decided to trust the technology. We got onto I-80, picked up our toll cards, and rode on a bit further. At the appointed stop (150 miles - ~9:15am) we pulled into a service plaza (one that doesn’t require you to exit the toll highway – I’d plotted out all of our stops on the GPS at 140-170 mile intervals). It was a pretty quick stop – we filled up, got valid receipts, chatted for 5-10 minutes while pulling off a layer of clothing, and headed out again. We were VERY fortunate that ALL of the receipts on the trip were accurate with date/time – a MUCH better experience than I had on my last IBA ride. The reality of the trip hadn’t sunken-in for me yet and I think it was just starting to dawn on Steve that this was going to be a pretty extreme ride.
[COLOR="red"]Merging onto our second road - US23 South toward Ohio.[/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Entering Ohio![/COLOR]
The next part of the ride along I-80 was pretty boring. Flat and straight, but traffic was light. As before, the miles were dropping away quickly. By about the 200 mile point I was getting sore. Every 30-40 miles, I would shift my feet to the highway pegs I’d installed and Steve would stand up for a minute. It seemed like out bikes were equally comfortable (or perhaps equally uncomfortable is a more accurate way to put it). I wondered what was going through Steve’s head. For me, I was pretty confident from having done another ride – I had a sense I could do it.
[COLOR="red"]Steve in his ‘comfort position’ When you add it up, he probably spent at least an hour or two riding like this. Motorists gawked at him regularly![/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Steve cruises on I-80 through Ohio.[/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Steve meets truck.[/COLOR]
Our second stop was scheduled to be at a toll booth on I-80 (I think near where it enters Pennsylvania – I’ve got the receipt somewhere). As we approached the tool booth, I started to contemplate finding money to pay for it……and OUCH! OUCH! I rode into a swarm of BEES! Most sacrificed themselves on my windshield, but a couple managed to find their way into my jacket and stung me twice – one on the neck and another on my chest. I was pretty freaked out and thought about pulling over, but the toll booth was only 2 miles away, so I kept going. At the booth, I first had to fight just to keep the bike up. What kind of car/truck leaks out that SLUDGE on the ground anyway? (for those who don’t know – the ground at toll booth exits is VERY slick as thousands of cars idle there and drip all sorts of crap on the ground. The ground was covered in the slickest stuff I’ve ever experienced (at least an inch thick!) While trying to warn Steve about how slippery it was / finding money / shaking bees out of my jacket – he interpreted my waving as a sign to pull up. I was worried he would slip on the sludge, since it was just to the open side of me, so I waved him off frantically.
After wrestling with the money and tool booth receipt, we both got going again and continued on I-80 for a while. We entered Pennsylvania and eventually hit I-79 (turning from east to south). Shortly afterwards, we stopped at a gas station on I-79 (Grove City as I recall). Although we weren’t on empty yet, we needed to stop to prove we’d gone all the way over to I-79 before turning south on our route because we needed the extra mileage of taking I-80 to I-79 to complete our 1500 mile plan.
Once we stopped, I noticed it was getting hot. We shed another layer of clothing, I put on my mesh jacket and vented gloves, and we ate a bit at the bikes (I snacked on banana chips and Camelbak water from my tank bag – earlier attempts to eat while riding ended in complete failure!) The mileage at this second gas stop was ~310 total and it was close to noon. So far, we’d only stopped for tolls and gas.
[COLOR="red"]Pic of the bikes at a gas station in Grove City, PA.[/COLOR]
PART II - Miles 310-599 (Grove City PA to Pleasant Valley WV to Beckley WV)
[COLOR="Red"]Another pic of the 'Red Knot'.[/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Steve.[/COLOR]
The third leg of the trip started to get more interesting. The road had a lot of fun sweepers, and the scenery was pretty good. The weather was still perfect too – sunny and almost no wind. Traffic was a bit heavy at times, and hit some construction delays near Pittsburgh. A couple of times I thought we’d be sitting in traffic for an hour, but it always cleared up within a few minutes. I’d timed the ride in part to avoid major cities – at least during rush hour, and it worked out well. We entered West Virginia and things were going well.
[COLOR="red"]Wow! The interstate in PA has TURNS! Can't wait to see what it feels like to ride on the sides of the tires![/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Traffic slow-down on I-79S. Notice it's still sunny.....that wouldn't last long.[/COLOR]
Another 140 miles and another gas station – this time near Fairmont, West Virginia. Total miles ridden = ~450 and the time was about 2:30pm. Our spirits were high and we were making excellent time. I even allowed myself to believe the delusion that the weather would hold and we’d be at our motel stop by midnight. In planning the ride, I’d reserved a motel room on the Tennessee/Kentucky border just past the 1000-mile route. The reason for this being that a pre-paid room would motivate us to keep moving and it would let us rest at a point where we could salvage a 1000 mile ride (in 24h) if it looked like the 1500 wouldn’t work out. Before getting there though, we still had to ride down through West Virginia, through Virgina, and well into North Carolina, over to Tennessee, and up through Tennessee to the Kentucky border!
As the afternoon waned, we continued to make progress, although hit was slower. The riding had been fantastic, although at an increasing cost in the form of lower speed limits and greater demands on concentration. We left I-79 behind and took the Mountaineer Expressway (US-19) from I-79 to I-77. In general, both Steve and I didn’t have any problems staying alert – I think it was the fact that I was constantly looking back to make sure he was there and he was constantly watching me that helped. Although my body was VERY sore along the way, we were ok mentally during the afternoon (well, maybe not if you count the fact that we were doing this ride in the first place!)
[COLOR="red"]Scenic ride in West Virginia.[/COLOR]
As we continued down US-19, sweepers got tighter and traffic was more of a factor (especially drifting 18-wheelers). More importantly, the weather started to change. Blue sky was replaced by towering, puffy clouds, which got darker and darker as we sped south. The novelty of the ride was starting to ebb, but my spirits were high (I think Steve was also in a good mood – he was always in a good mood as far as I could tell). The scenery was breath-taking. We started to lose a lot of time at this point though because the lower half of the route was plagued with stop-lights and urban sprawl. On the plus side, we skirted/road between several large storms. While stopped at various traffic lights we mocked the rain – talking about how awesome it was that we’d managed to avoid it so far. Both of us knew our luck would soon run out, and it did……
[COLOR="red"]Sweepers on US-19 in West Virginia. Note the darkening sky.[/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Self portrait. Damn I'm good looking![/COLOR]
[COLOR="red"]Traffic lights on US-19 cost us time, but gave us a breather.[/COLOR]
A few miles outside Beckley, West Virginia (our 4th planned stop – at the point where US-19 and I-77 converge), we were caught by a storm. Steve was leading and he’d just pulled through an intersection with a gas station when it hit, so we couldn’t make the turn into it. I followed him as we frantically scanned the road for shelter. Steve noticed a turn and quickly located an abandoned gas station. I was convinced the rain wouldn’t last – I was wrong. Rather than waste a lot of time standing around, Steve suggested we use the opportunity to get out the rain gear and do some bike maintenance. Good plan. I dug out my quality rain gear and felt pretty good about it. I knew I could stay waterproof. In fact, the rain hadn’t really soaked me since I already had on waterproof riding pants and boots. Steve, on the other hand, was caught in jeans and workboots and standard gloves. He only had a $20 vinyl rain suit that he’d never worn and plastic (latex) gloves to waterproof himself. I can’t say enough about his attitude about the situation. I think I would have been freaking out without my rain gear and here’s a guy 500+ miles from home, facing hours of rain and mountains, he’s already wet, and he’s calm about it.
[COLOR="red"]Steve prepares for 15 hours of rain![/COLOR]
During our stop we oiled the chain on Steve’s bike as well (he pivoted the Tiger on the sidestand while I spun the rear wheel and lubed the crap out of the chain – good trick). The rain continued, and so did we……stopping at another toll booth a few miles down the road and into the next gas station – less than 6 miles away.
[COLOR="red"]Rain.[/COLOR]
A few thoughts about my riding partner – Steve. I’ve ridden with lots of people before, and I admit that I was nervous riding with someone else on such a trip. It turned out that Steve is an AMAZING riding partner. He lifted my morale at every stop and he seemed to operate on the same schedule as I do (either because he has a similar riding style or a knack for reading other people and going along with them). He was very helpful with advice and discussing the route as our trip progressed, and his presence made the ride much less overwhelming than it would have been alone (especially during the tougher parts of the ride on Friday night). There’s something about shared misery that makes it easier to endure and having someone to talk with at every stop was fantastic. While Steve’s objective was to do the 1500, he could have stopped at 1000 miles, but he never complained about pushing hard for extra 500 the next day (something I was pushing for given that I’d done 1000 before and already had IBA membership).
Steve is also an EXCELLENT rider – he followed at a comfortable distance, and helped light up the road when needed. He also took the lead a few critical times when I was struggling to navigate the route (especially at night, when his high beams seemed to work much better than mine) and on the twistier stuff (where he rode with greater confidence than I ever could). We also had a good balance of encouraging each other to stop when needed and pushing each other a bit when needed. Since I was leading most of the time because I had the GPS, he was also more at the mercy of my schedule, although I tried to watch him carefully to gauge how sore he looked (if he got off the seat more than once every 20 miles I knew we should pull over soon – and whenever that happened I desperately needed a break as well! As I said above, we seem to have similar tolerance limits). He was also a magnet for locals at gas stations who provided us with useful information. I’ll always remember him patching together his rain gear at every stop! I’d ride anywhere with Steve - he’s the real deal.
IN THE NEXT INSTALLMENT: I’ll never forget the night/early morning of May 15 & 16, 2009. Over 700 miles from home and all Hell broke loose…..hail, hail, and more hail; darkness; tunnels galore; intense lightening; rock walls and sheer cliffs; fog; twisty roads; insane truckers; fatigue – the most intense 10 hours of motorcycling either of us have ever experienced! I think you’ll also get a sense of what a hard-core rider Steve is – what he lacked in riding gear he more than made up with in mental toughness.
PART III – Miles 599-1039 (Beckley WV to Statesville NC to Waynesville NC to Jellico TN)
RAIN: After a stop in Beckley, West Virginia for gas (5:40pm) and a quick snack (Subway), we hit the road. It was already pretty gray, so I put away my camera (no more pics for the next 14 hours). We then passed through a toll booth and jumped onto I-77. I was really excited about this part of the ride because I’d read there are two tunnels on the route (including one straddling the border between West Virginia and Virginia). The road was simply AMAZING. The rain held off for a while and we had a blast twisting our way through traffic. Trucks are prohibited from using the left-most lane, which helped a lot. We were making good time again.
After an hour or so, it started to get dark and cloudy again. Then – with little warning- we hit our first serious storm. Lots of hail mixed with rain. It continued for several minutes, and would occasionally let up before the downpour continued. At the same time, the road got much steeper and twistier. It also got dark. The rain continued for what seemed like an eternity. The worst moments came while we were going over a steep hill (I think we were in North Carolina by that time). We ascended into a VERY dark, swirling cloud and then all hell broke loose. Hail/rain/wind hit us all at once. The storm intensified, and looking off to the left all I could see was a seemingly endless drop-off. To the right was a series of emergency truck run-offs. I really couldn’t even see the pavement, although I occasionally caught a glimpse of what had to be a RIVER running down the road. Steve was behind me, and a guy on a cruiser was following us by that time. The 20 minutes of that particular storm rank high among the scariest moments of my life. Pulling over really wasn’t an option since there simply wasn’t anywhere to pull over and the trucks barreling along in the right lane made that option nearly impossible.
After a while, the road flattened out. Our next objective was to reach Statesville, North Carolina, which was the bottom corner of our ride. From Statesville, we planned to leave I-77 and jump on I-40 west into Tennessee. I was getting late as we neared Statesville (about 9pm), but the rain let up and we were making good time. Storms raged all around us, but for some miraculous reason we were spared the worst of it. The lightning was incredible though. The flashes sometimes blinded me and actually hurt my eyes! On the plus side, all that lightning really lit up the road!
At about 9pm we exited from I-79 onto I-40W. I’d planned to take the second major exit on I-40W as a gas stop and to use the receipt to prove we’d ridden all the way to North Carolina before heading west. I should have taken the first exit though because just as we neared our turn-off the skies opened up again. I had to lift my helmet to see the road, and we arrived at our gas stop in the monsoon. For me, this was one of the low points of the ride. Having ridden in such terrible weather was bad enough, but it was now dark, we were far from home, and we were still facing hours of what promised to be a challenging ride. During our stop, we chatted with a local rider who seemed to have lots of good advice. Unfortunately, I was too zonked to take down his name or remember much. I do remember that he felt certain that a Harley wouldn’t have made the ride (I actually disagree – a modern Harley is perfectly capable of riding a 1000 mile day, although it would be torture on most of their models).
Back onto I-40 West for a 125 mile run to the next gas stop. The rain let up, although lightening flashed continuously all around us. We agreed to take a break after about 50-60 miles, so I pulled over at the appointed distance. I exited the Interstate at what I thought was a major exit, but turned out to be a rural spot in the middle of nowhere. To make matters worse, everything was closed down for the night. No matter – we hadn’t planned on getting gas yet anyway, and we were supposed to stop for only 10 minutes to rest. In the end, I think we were stopped for more like 30-40 minutes. During the stop I remember lying down and looking up at the sky – it felt so great to close my eyes! It was also the spookiest stop of the trip in that it was DEAD QUIET except for the booming thunder and lightning flashes all around us. The rain held off, although we were sure we’d be hit at any minute. Mixed in with the flashes of lightening was an eerie mist. When I think of this ride, I’ll always think of sitting in the dark, watching lightening, and feeling far from home. It was pretty freaky, but also strangely exhilarating at the same time! Kinda like one of those ‘how the Hell did I end up here?’ moments…..
Back onto I-40 again for another 65 miles, and we hit rain again. After a minute or so I looked back and noticed…..STEVE WAS GONE! Oh oh. Looking back in the distance I could see him moving slowly, so I kept going, slowing to 65, 60, 55, 50, 30, 25 waiting for him to catch me. For some reason he wasn’t getting any closer! Fearing a mechanical issue, I pulled over and started to disconnect myself from the Knot. Steve pulled up behind me and yelled something, but I couldn’t hear. Damn those earplugs! After yelling at me a few times, it became clear that he’d forgotten to fasten his helmet. Whew! He then rode off – figuring I’d be along shortly to pass him (I had the GPS after all). The only problem was that I’d already unfastened my earphones from the GPS and opened my jacket, so I wasn’t ready to move. I was also trying to balance the bike on the wet gravel shoulder and it wasn’t going well. For a few moments I thought I was going to drop the bike (and the thought occurred to me to let it drop so I could rest (!)) but everything was eventually re-connected and I was ready to roll again.
The miles droned on….and on…..the lightning and rain seemed to let up. After what must have been another hour or so, we arrived at our planned gas stop in Waynesville, North Carolina (near the Smokey mountains). It had taken us 3 hours to cover the last 125 miles! At the Waynesville Pilot station we lingered far longer than we should have (probably took us 30-40 min to get back on the road). We were both feeling pretty beat up at this point and we knew we were still hours and a full state (Tennessee) away from the hotel and a few hours of rest. My spirits lifted briefly when a car full of college guys pulled up and it turned out they were from Michigan! Stranger still, one student had attended the same small college where I work! What are the odds?! I reminded Steve that this was our last gas stop for the night (only 145 miles to go!) and we pushed off…..then back because I’d forgotten to fasten my helmet.
Back onto I-40W AGAIN . I had hoped we’d be riding through this part of the route at dusk, but it was now after midnight. I knew that leaving the start point later in the morning would cause problems, but I hadn’t counted on so much rain as well. The roads were VERY twisty for an Interstate and the ‘S-curves’ were ENDLESS. Normally, this would have been fun, but with the dark, the wet, and the big-rigs blasting through the hills it was pretty freaky. The speed limit was 55, but I sometimes had trouble holding 50 through the turns. Here I was in motorcycling paradise and I longed for the flat, straight, wide roads of the Midwest! Eventually we entered Tennessee and after about 20 more miles of zig-zag roads and one last tunnel, the road opened up.
Then we hit FOG. We could do nothing but laugh. We kept riding.
At this point it’s worth mentioning the bikes again. Both bikes are quite new and are known to be reliable. Both had performed flawlessly. After more than 7000 miles on my FZ6 I had finally reached the point where I trusted it implicitly. While it’s true the adventure REALLY gets interesting when your bike breaks down, I’ll take my trusty Yamaha any day. She was really getting a real work-out though. At 600cc (599cc technically) it isn’t really designed to blast down the Interstate all day, but it’s capable. If there is something adventurous about my bike, it’s simply that it’s not the usual weapon of choice for this type of thing. In the case of Steve’s bike – a Triumph Tiger, it’s a larger bike (1050cc) set up for the road. It is taller, more powerful, and it had a nicer sound thank my FZ6 thanks to the aftermarket pipes Steve had installed. The Tiger has a dual-sport /rally heritage, although the newest versions really aren’t meant for the dirt. Side-by-side, the two bikes look related – both with mini fairings and angular front ends. Both seem to have the same insect-inspired design.
At this point it was about 2am and we were stopping every 35 miles (we’d been going at least 140 miles between stops earlier in the day, then 70 miles between stops, and now we’d cut that amount in half again). I wanted to get to the hotel, but Steve wisely thought it was better to rest less later if it meant we could keep more alert now. His call was the right one. Breaking up the last part of the trip made the riding more bearable. We eventually left I-40 behind and headed north on I-75 through Knoxville. The miles ticked down……At one rest stop a car-load of folks heading south (the way we had come) pulled up and asked for directions. They were hopelessly lost and looked as tired as we were (there were at least 6 people crammed into their sub-compact car). I did my best to point them in the right direction, but I was in full Zombie-mode. It was sometime after 3am.
After what seemed like hours (because it WAS hours), we arrived at our last gas stop and the motel. Hooray for Jellico, Tennessee (less than a mile from the Kentucky border)! In what has to be one of the most anti-climatic moments of my riding career, we got out 1000-mile receipt (actually 1039 miles for me and likely more than 1100 for Steve). It was 4:00am. The Saddlesore-1000 part of our ride was done with three hours to spare! For most of the day we’d been on pace to complete the Saddlesore 1000 portion of the ride in 16-18 hours, but I was still pleased to have done it in 21 hours, even though that was a full hour slower than my first Saddlesore. I felt much better this time and the weather/dark/roads had been much tougher this time. Steve was excited that he’d completed his first Iron Butt ride and I was happy for him.
I had planned to hit the bed as soon as we arrived in Jellico, but Steve convinced me to get the Saddlesore 1000 miles certified by getting a gas receipt and locating a witness. That way, we’d still have completed an Iron Butt ride even if we didn’t get the extra 500 miles done in time for the Bun Burner 1500. I had mixed feelings about this idea because for me the 1500 mile ride in 36 hours was the whole point of the trip, but I realized that a 1000-mile day would be better than nothing if we didn’t make it. I mentioned to Steve that I was still planning to do the 1500, but I never brought up the idea that he might want to stop with the 1000. I figured we would make that decision after a few hours of rest.
After checking in at the hotel (adjacent to the gas station) I talked the motel attendant into signing our witness forms. He was happy to do it. He even offered us a late check-out time, but I laughed and told him we would only be stopping for 3-4 hours. Off to the room ……and then back to the desk because the key didn’t work…..and then off to another room. It was now 4:30 am. I set the alarm for 6:45am and asked Steve to set his as well. I’d wanted to be on the road by 7am (to give us a full 12 hours to complete the 1500 mile run), but decided we’d leave at 8am instead (after all – it was ‘only’ about 498 miles to Albion).
The motel room stunk (or was that me?) and I slept off and on for only two hours, but it was still great. We awoke at 6:45am and both of us immediately started moving. I grabbed a shower, we lubed Steve’s bike chain, loaded up, decided to skip breakfast in favor or beef jerky and leftover subway sandwiches, and headed out at 7:59am. It was starting to rain and the forecast showed showers all the way up I-75N. We decided to wear the rain gear all day just to be safe.
COMING UP: The last 500 miles! (with pics) More rain and wind!
PART IV - Miles 1039-1539 (Jellico, TN to Albion MI)[COLOR="Red"]PIC: Steve signs his log book at the end of a 1000-mile day (4 am, May 16, 2009). Notice how well I was able to hold my camera? The battery died just as I snapped this picture. We then stopped at a motel for a few hours of sleep.[/COLOR]
We left the motel in Jellico, TN at 8 am and jumped on I-75 North. We’d follow this road all the way to Toledo, OH. The first two hours were surprisingly great. I felt refreshed from a couple of hours of sleep and the rain held off. The ride felt more like it had on Day 1 than it had just a few hours earlier. We made great time and traffic was light. The road was also relatively straight, but still quite scenic in places. Rather than stop early, I decided to push on through a full tank of gas and the stop I’d programmed into the GPS before the trip.
[COLOR="red"]PIC: Entering Kentucky!
PIC: A Harley in its ‘natural habitat’!![/COLOR]
Our first stop of the morning was in Dry Ridge Kentucky. We got there at 10:10 am. After filling up, we decided we’d consider stopping in between has stations again since we were now running ahead of schedule again. The rain seemed to catch up to us as we were stopped (urging us along), so we hit the road after 20 minutes.
After another 30 miles or so the skies opened up. We pulled into a gas station so Steve could add another layer of gear and we quickly headed out again. The ride over the Ohio River and through Cincinnati was fairly uneventful and we continued north – still making good time. It rained off and on, but by this time we were used to it. After another 140 miles or so we stopped in Lima, Ohio for gas. This was our last gas stop before Albion! We arrived in Lima at 1:35 pm.
[COLOR="red"]PIC: Heading into Cincinnati (and Ohio!)[/COLOR]
Being sore, tired, and wet, and knowing we were on the home stretch with plenty of time to make it, we got stalled at the gas station in Lima and found all sorts of reasons not to hit the road. I smelled the hotdogs cooking outside and bought two (my first ‘meal’ in nearly a day). Steve followed suit. We chatted with a guy who owned a three-wheeled scooter. I hit the bathroom. Steve hit the bathroom. We made phone calls. We stood watching a particularly bad storm pass overhead. I unlocked, locked, unlocked, and locked my luggage several times – never quite deciding on what gloves I should wear (vented with water-proof overgloves? Thick leather? Waterproof winter gloves? Decisions…..decisions……tough to figure things out when I’m such a Zombie).
Finally - we left. It was raining hard now and the wind had picked up too. Back on I-75, we slashed our way north through the storm. The rain continued steadily and it began to hail….again. Lovely.
The wind blew my little bike around like a toy. I would lean hard to keep my position, and then go flying across the road when the wind stopped for a second. Passing trucks wreaked havoc with the airflow. As tough as it was, it felt easy compared to the previous night. In motorcycling, like so many things in life, everything is relative.
After what seemed like hours (perhaps it was?) we by-passed Toledo and headed north on US-23. Another 45 minutes to Ann Arbor and then 45 minutes to HOME! It felt close now and the road was familiar. Soon we hit Michigan again and it stopped raining! Blue sky and sunshine! If only the wind would die down.....can’t have it too easy though.
[COLOR="red"]PIC: Michigan![/COLOR]
At Dundee, Michigan we exited near Cabelas (Michigan’s largest tourist attraction – it’s like LLBean/REI). In the parking lot of yet another gas station we put away the rain gear and I donned my leather jacket for the first time since the previous morning. It felt great to shed the rain gear. It was at this point that we both realized we were going to make it and we got a mental lift from it. We decided we wouldn’t stop again until Albion.
After merging back onto the highway (where I did a sphincter check as a boat-toting truck swerved across the on-ramp just as I entered), we resumed the trip. The wind was really crazy now and it was blowing directly across out path. It must have been 50mph at least. No matter – we were getting close. We merged onto I-94 West near Ann Arbor. Final Interstate! At Chelsea, Michigan (about a half hour from Albion) we passed the 1500 mile mark on my GPS and I stood and waved frantically for about two minutes. It was also much colder now, but sunny.
[COLOR="red"]PIC: I snapped this pic at the 1500-mile mark (on I-94, near Ann Arbor, Michigan)[/COLOR]
Finally, about 34 hours and 19 minutes, we pulled into the BP gas station at Exit 121 in Albion, Michigan. Back to the starting point! We had done it!!!!! Fittingly, the only two vehicles at the pumps when we pulled in were two motorcycles – a Ducati rider (who quickly lost interest in our excessive celebration), and a father and son on an old Honda Shadow who were more than happy to swap stories with us. What a fitting end to our ride!
Less than 10 minutes later we arrived at my home (2 miles from the BP station). Steve still had more than an hour to ride to get home, but he’d decided to officially end his BB1500 in Albion, so he wasn’t in a hurry. My wife signed our ‘end witness’ forms and we laughed and talked for about an hour in a way only two tired idiots fresh off the road could have done. I felt alert and fantastic for a while. Later, it all hit me and I fell asleep putting my kids to bed.
[COLOR="red"]PIC: End of the trip! We did it![/COLOR]
Final Comments:
Would we do it again? YES! I felt ready to hit the road within 2 days after we got back. Steve must have felt the same way because he phoned around the same time and suggested we do another Iron Butt ride! We’re now planning to ride around Lake Michigan in less than 24 hours in the fall. It’ll be my third 1000-mile day.
The bike: After my last ride, I made several changes to my FZ6 and my riding gear. Happily, they worked wonders. The hi-way pegs allowed me to stretch out during the trip. The hard cases gave me a place to put my stuff. Swapping out the front sprocket dropped the rpm on the highway and took away a bit of the buzz out of the ride. I have to admit though that I think I’m ready for a REAL seat now. The stock seat is not horrible, but most folks find it intolerable after a few hundred miles. After doing 1500 (on top of 6000 miles already on it) I think it’s ready for the scrap heap. I’ll have to wait until winter though since I don’t feel like sending my seat off for an upgrade until the season is over. I still have two long trips and thousands of miles left to ride this year!
