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The Minnesota 1000 is a 24 hour endurance rally which is billed as
"neither entirely within Minnesota nor 1000 miles". What it
really is a
huge scavenger hunt all over the central United States (and Canada) based
in Minneapolis, MN. It's also a lot of fun.
Some 250 to 300 entrants participated in the 1998 running and my hat is
off to Eddie James and is army of volunteers. They did a fantastic job of
executing the rally. Bravo!!
So, here's my report.
I had done previous endurance rallies and felt I was ready to seriously
compete. Yes, I came to win this one and that was my mindset. In
preparation, I did a Bun Burner Gold (I still have to submit the
documentation as of this writing) on my way out; Beaverton, OR to Fergus
Falls, MN in 23:06 (1560+ miles). I stayed Thursday night in Fergus
Falls. Friday morning I took a leisurely ride into Minneapolis and picked
up 5 mandatory points, the maximum allowed before the rally.
A week or two earlier I had been offered lodging by Adam Wolkoff via old
friend Jon Diaz. I gladly accepted and would stay there with Adam, Jon,
and Bobb Todd. After picking up the mandatory points I wandered over to
Adam's. Bobb was already there. Jon showed up just as we were
suiting up
to help with setup for the Liar's Banquet.
At the end of the Banquet, Eddie passed out most of the rally sheets.
The
first three bonuses were Woody Creek CO, Waco TX, and Lynchburg TN. If
you wanted one of those you could leave immediately from the banquet ...
BUT you had to come back with one of them and you couldn't get anything
else on the route sheet until after 1030 Saturday. Adam totalled up the
points for a run to Waco at 11000+ and decided to go for it. I didn't
feel like pounding the pavement like that but at least knew what point
mark I had to beat. With that information Bobb, Jon, and I returned to
Adam's to strategize.
Three hours later after Jon and Bobb had retired to sleep, and after three
discarded plans, I had my route. I would be good for at least 11.5K
points and would put me in the running if I pulled it off. With that I
finally went to sleep. Before drifting off, I made one final mental
modification to the plan that would prove a wise move.
In the morning I recomputed with my modification and, yes, it was right.
Saturday morning: At 1000, Eddie passed out the remainder of the route
sheet. I quick glance showed nothing to mess with my plan so I just
stored the pages away.
1030: We're off from Bob's Java Hut. I ran with some other riders
down
to Fairbault HD to pick up a mandatory checkpoint. Since I grabbed it
during the rally, and already had 5 mandatory points, this stop was worth
600 points. I managed to make the correct turns to the dealer and was in
and out before the other riders. Score.
I continued down I-35 into Iowa. At Mason City I turned west and picked
up the bonuses in Garner, West Bend, and Lone Rock, Iowa. On the way to
the Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend I raced a big T-storm into and
out of the bonus. As I escaped the town, lightening crashed down all
around me. That was close. The stop at Lone Rock was to visit the
parents of a another entrant. I stopped for the mandatory 20 minutes and
visited. Upon leaving I was given a dried ear of corn as a token.
>From Lone Rock I returned north on farm roads to Sherburn, MN and found
out what shuttle astronaut came from that town. From Sherburn it was back
into Iowa to pick up the bonus at Hospers and then down to Sioux City. I
went two miles over the border into South Dakota to pick up a gas receipt
from that state (worth a couple of hundred points).
Having picked up the "small" stuff in northern Iowa, I went after
the
first keystone of my route ... gas receipts from three state capitols
other than MN. My first stop was Lincoln, NE and then south to Topeka,
KS. The three capitols bonus was worth 2330 points.
I reached Topeka around 0100 Sunday .... too late to collect the 3 hour
rest bonus. Why too late? The second keystone was to get a gas
receipt
from Kansas City, MO dated after 0300 Sunday. I needed time to scout a
gas station near the interstate and be ready to grab the receipt right at
0300. That bonus was worth over 1800 points.
I scoured the remaining route pages that Eddie handed out Saturday morning
looking for something within range. Nope. Nothing. Speed,
Missouri was
close but I wouldn't make it. Instead I rode down the Kansas Turnpike to
the service center near Lawrence, KS and got 30 minutes of sleep at the
Iron Butt Motel (i.e. sleeping on the bike). From there I progressed into
Kansas City and located an Amoco station at Exit 6 in K.C., MO. I cruised
around on the freeways until just shy of 0300 then ran to the station. I
had to pre-pay and that delayed me a bit because I really didn't want to
be there. It wasn't the best part of town. I got my receipt dated
0307
Sunday and beat feet out of town.
I now at 7.5 hours to make the 440 miles back up I-35 to Minneapolis ....
AND pick up four bonuses and another mandatory checkpoint along the way if
I was to execute my plan. Yes, it would be a push.
The first was easy. Bethany, MO: "What body of water does
I-35 cross at
mile marker 91". Score.
The second was tougher. St. Charles, IA. Go to one of the covered
bridges in Madison County and find out what the sign said above the
bridge. This involved going 10 miles off the interstate with 2 miles of
gravel road. It was early Sunday morning and I was able to collect it
efficiently. Score.
The third was tougher than planned. I needed a gas receipt from Des
Moines as my third state capitol. Gas turned out to be tough to find in
that city. I eventually did but wasted about 15 minutes doing so.
The fourth was easy. Go to the "Boondocks, USA" station in
Williams, IA
(right off the freeway), collect a gas receipt and answer a question.
Score.
>From there I had to haul back to Minneapolis to collect the Midwest Cycle
Supply mandatory (they were open Sunday) and make it back to Bob's Java
Hut before 10:30.
I punched in at Bob's at 1011. Now I could relax and turn in my paperwork.
So ... with the bonuses I collected, gas receipts from SD, IA, NE, KS, and
MO, and a complete fuel log, I had successfully executed my plan of over
11.5K points. It turned out as 11,612.
Was it good enough to win? No, but it was good enough to finish as the
3rd place Expert and 4th overall. Yeah!! I'll take it! I felt
really
good because I knew I ran a smart rally. I collected a sizeable amount of
points without riding nearly as many miles as those who finished around
me. I "only" did 1360 miles, compared to Adam's 2000+.
On top of that, I had a blast. Kudos again to Eddie and his crew for
putting on a great rally.
Looking back, I'd only make one change to my plan. Where I made a
mistake
was in judging how long it would take to get from Lincoln to Topeka on
back roads. It was shorter than expected. With that extra time I
could
have easily picked up Yankton, SD before heading to Lincoln. Ah well.
A
lesson for next time.
Jeff Earls
Beaverton, OR
What a difference a year makes. Last year, I was laser-focused on the Iron Butt. Thoughts of riding filled nearly every waking moment. This year, riding has taken a back seat to the joys and responsibilities of fatherhood. Last year, I gave my dad a father's day card. This year, my daughter gave one to me.
While I have missed the hours of saddle time afforded to me in my pre-dad days, I have not regretted my new domesticity. Vivian will only be a child for a short time, after all, but I will always be a rider. I hope that one day I will be cheering her on the Ironbutt, as my folks did for me. In the meantime, though, adjustments must be made. We are committed to keeping KT home with Vivian for as long as possible. Since I am not riding the miles I used to, turning the K bike into cash seemed like a sensible, though somewhat painful medium term option.
But what about the Minnesota 1000? How could I ride it on the R65--or worse, miss it? Fortunately, that choice never presented itself, as the LT's new owner insisted that I campaign it in one last MN1K. I would spend fathers day, my first as a real dad, riding the bike I had sold to help give my beautiful baby a good start. This unique convergence of events would inspire me to make the 1998 MN1K one for the record books.
This story, like all great dramas, starts with a bit of comic relief. When I returned to my house from running errands on Friday morning, I found Bobb Todd sleeping on my couch. Beside him was a note, which read exactly as follows: "Dear A, arrived @1115 AM last slept weds night wake me up in time for the Liar's Banquet Bobb." Eventually, Bobb woke up. Jeff Earles, and Jon Diaz showed up, and we headed for the pre-rally Liar's Banquet. Trackstar, a local shop, treated riders to burgers, grilled chicken sandwiches and a limited edition T-shirt. After a stirring benediction from the Riding Reverend, the first set of bonus locations were handed out.
In years past, bonuses were not announced until the day of the rally. This year, roughly 75% of the bonus locations would be announced the evening before the rally, with the remainder to follow the next morning. The first page of bonuses listed three very remote locations: the tavern in Hunter S. Thompson's home town of Woody Creek, CO, The Dr. Pepper museum in Waco, TX, and the Jack Daniel's Distillery in Lynchburg, TN. Riders were told that anyone who wanted to try for these bonuses was free to leave immediately, with three stipulations. First, since the rally starts and ends at Bob's Java Hut, anyone seeking these bonuses would also have to sign out at and leave from Bob's. Second, trying for one of these bonuses was like joining the IRA: once in, never out. Once you left for one of these bonuses, you had to actually get the bonus. This was to prevent someone from heading out to, say, Woody Creek, then bagging it halfway to pick up Carhenge (a hefty bonus in itself at 4000+ points, and a lot closer than HST). Third, riders leaving early could not pick up any bonus points before the rally started at 1030 Saturday, even if they rode right by them. All riders would have no more than 24 hours in which to score points.
Jon, Bobb, Jeff and I looked at the bonuses. I found myself drawn to the "Big Three." Woody Creek was a bit too far off the beaten path for my tastes. Lynchburg looked kind of lonely off by itself, with no other obvious bonuses nearby. Waco, on the other hand, hmmm. There's a big bonus for three state capitals outside of MN. On the way to Waco, I'd drive through Des Moines, Topeka and OK City. Hmmm, a progressive bonus for outstate gas receipts. Hmmm, Decent bonuses right off the highway in Iowa and Missouri. Hmmm, BIG bonus for gas receipt from Kansas City, MO date stamped after 0300 on Sunday. Could this work? I added up the points. If it DID work, the rider who made it so would certainly win their class, if not the Rally.
I turned to Jon. "Tell me that Waco is
impossible," I said.
"It's possible." Grin.
"Tell me that its foolish to even try for
it," I said.
This one didn't faze Jon either. "If I
were selling my LT to ride around on an R65 until Vivian is out of Kindergarten,
I would definitely go. Plus, just think of the bragging rights if you are the
only one to go, or even to make it."
Why did I bother giving the benediction when we had a real motivational speaker in our midst? Jeff joined in the fun, assuring me that Waco was within the realm of the possible.
Shit. I guess I'm going to Waco.
I pulled up to Bob's at about 2015. No other MN1K riders in sight. As instructed, I walked in and announced that I needed to sign out for the rally. The clerk handed me a clipboard. I located my name, and next to it wrote my odometer reading and the date: June 19, 1998. I walked outside, fired up the LT, and got on.
I was ready to pull out, but something held me back. Was I waiting for a horde of well wishers to run out of Bob's, screaming for my success? That, clearly, was not in the cards. Still, a grand gesture seemed in order. Jon's remarks came back to me. I decided that I would ride as hard as I could and as smart as I could. I would try my hardest to win this damn rally, because it would jest be so right if it actually worked. What the hell, right? Plus, I'd have a SS2K to show for my trouble, before sending the K bike on to its new owner. That bit of business completed, I jammed some Lynrd Skynrd into the barely adequate cassette deck and roared off to I35 South.
Have any of you ever had the pleasure of 35 South? Traversing its length from Minnesota to Texas is right up there with paint drying and grass growing on the excitement scale. Still, there were small moments of amusement.
First was how quickly my physical and mental state returned to Ironbutt Nominal. I found, to my surprise, that I was railing down miles. I wasn't tired. When I had to stop for gas, I stopped, gassed, and went. I also found my thoughts drifting back to the Butt, particularly the leg from Florida to California. Those miles were the hardest I've ever done on a motorcycle. I am convinced to this day that the only reason I made it to LA was due to the calm, levelheaded companionship of Boyd Young.
Boyd and I ran into each other in Albuquerque, and rode together until my bent rim forced our separation near the Arizona/California border. As I rode south, I remembered how we finally broke the back of that damn leg, vowing that we would finish it even if it meant stopping for a combat nap every 250 miles. I pretended that Boyd and I were riding together again, on our way to victory. I could almost hear Boyd's Oklahoma twang in my ears, telling me that if I rode smart, I'd get what I wanted.
Since I couldn't grab any bonuses before 1030 Saturday, I spent the initial part of the ride roughing out a schedule. Using the GPS, I dropped waypoints at Des Moines, Kansas City, Topeka, Wichita, OK City, Denton, and Waco. Using the mileage figures supplied by the GPS, I figured the time I had to be at each of these locations. I knew that my endurance, energy and mental abilities would be at their peak early in the rally. I therefore resolved to ride as hard as I could early on. I endeavored to waste no time, and stopped only when the fuel situation demanded. I knew that on the return trip, I would feel like Dale looked after leg 3 of the IB: shit on a stick. Better make hay while the sun shines.
Usually, when I find myself out on the highways and byways of this great land, well after One In The Morning, I often encounter some poor soul even odder than myself. We interact in some interesting or unanticipated way, and I resolve to remember the story so I can repeat it for those patient enough to endure these ramblings. For some reason, all the odd souls were busy elsewhere this night. All I did was ride, gas, think, repeat. The night was remarkable for its lack of excitement.
As morning approached, I found myself in southern Kansas. As I rode past Lawrence, I thought about Paul Glaves, whom I had seen in the registration line the evening before. How odd that Paul was in my hometown, and I near his, yet we were both running the same rally. I smiled when I realized that his wife Vonni was in some unknown third location, and that we were all enjoying ourselves on motorcycles.
Once I saw dawn in the eastern sky, my spirits lifted. The tough hours between 0200 and 0430 were behind me. Near Ardmore, OK I looked down at the clock: 1030! Time for some points. I quickly pulled off the highway and into a gas station. Moments later, about 6 gallons and exactly 1000 points were mine. Before mounting up, I was accosted by a large, friendly man. This pleasant soul, whose name is unfortunately lost in the Texas heat, wished me luck on the MN1K! The Internet has made our planet a smaller place.
Nothing exciting happened from this point until the intersection of I30 and I35W in Fort Worth. It was here I learned that Texas DOT thinks nothing of taking 4+ lanes of interstate down to one, without warning. Traffic ground to a halt. As I sat on the idling K bike, heat began to assault my senses. I suddenly realized that despite having drained about 120 ounces of XLR8, I felt no urge to see anyone about a horse. It was H-O-T. As I sat in traffic contemplating the my lack of bladder activity, I heard the bike's fan kick on. I looked at the Temp gauge: too high. This was Not Good.
Those who know me are aware I have a bit of a temper. I am amazed to note, however, that for once, I feel no compelling need to pop my cork. "This must be Vivian's contribution to my effort," I think. Fathers have to be patient. I look down at the GPS, and idly bring up the map display. There on the screen is some unknown road, which looks like it connects to I20, which would detour me around this mess. What the Hell! I'm off. Although I have no idea where I am going, I can read a moving map display. I let the GPS guide me to I20, and before I know it, I'm South of the traffic jam. I remember the fellow from the Liar's Banquet who took pains to tell me what a waste of time the GPS was. That's right, buddy. See you at the finish.
I eventually arrived at the Dr. Pepper museum, went inside, and selected a fifteen cent nail file as my purchase of record. As I approached the register, a pencil necked, scraggly bearded geek pushed ahead of me to the front of the line. His wife looked at me apologetically, and shrugged. I stared bullets.
Pencil neck was in the market for 2 Dr. Pepper hats, a T-shirt, and a six pack of the stuff. He paid with a credit card. Just as the clerk ran his card through, Pencil neck decided he needed a Dr. Pepper golf ball too. "Can you put it on there too?" he simpered. "No, I'll have to run another charge," the clerk answered. I prepared to ram my $0.15 nail file through the geek's throat. His wife, seeing my eyes narrow, quickly reached for her wallet, and handed geek boy a fiver. He pushed her away. "I've got it." I stepped closer, and wifey got a bit more insistent. Pencil necked sighed, took the five, and told the clerk, "Never mind, I'll just pay for it." He had no idea how close he came.
Fast forward: it is one hour after leaving Waco. I am feeling pretty damn good. I happen to look over to my left, and…Oh My God…Its Tim Conway and Jay Golden, heading toward the Museum! This was most distressing. The fact that at least two other riders were on my tail meant that I would need a perfect run back to Bob's in order to have any chance at victory. I looked at the clock, and saw that I had about 4 hours to play with at my current rate of progress. I immediately decided to hit a truckstop, get out of this dam heat, and figure my next move.
Before too long, I saw the sign. It was perfect: Ken's Circle J truckstop. An independent joint, no way would Conway and Golden figure to stop at this dive. I pulled in. It was worse than I thought. Ken's had obviously been around since Old Shep was a pup. I decided I would take the 777 point "3 hours of nothing" bonus right here at Ken's. That would still leave me with an hour to play with.
I used my time wisely. I got a receipt for a $3 shower, starting the 3 hour clock. After the shower, I checked my maps, and plotted my strategy. I made a checklist, to insure I wouldn't forget even one bonus. Then, I found the drivers lounge, stretched out on the floor and went to sleep. All too soon, the meanie blared. I had enough time to get up, get dressed, and gas the bike while still off the clock. The fuel receipt closed the 3 hour window, and I was back on the road.
Again, much of the ride north was uneventful. I had one bad moment, in Kansas, when I took a wrong turn off the toll road. Oddly, I didn't even get mad. I just turned around and picked up the route again. As the hours passed, I was glad for my checklist. My brain had started to fade, bigtime. It was nice to look down and see such friendly reminders as "Gas Receipt, KC MO!" or "Des Moines!" I wasn't about to screw up this ride by getting a gas receipt from North Kansas City or West Des Moines. That just would not do.
By 0600 Sunday, I hit the wall. All night long, the thought of Conway and Golden behind me had kept me rolling. Now, I had trouble caring. I was losing energy fast, and nothing seemed to help. My helmet felt like it was lined with nails. My butt hurt. For the first time ever in a competitive event, I thought about dropping out. In desperation, I turned on the radio. Bad music poured out: I was saved.
Eventually, even the bad music was not enough. I had just scored the Des Moines receipt. I stood in the gas station, wondering how in the hell I would make it another mile. Just then, the bad music stopped. In its place I heard the catchy opening riff from Semisonic's "Closing time." Good Music! As the blood began to flow again, I heard Dan Wilson sing "You don't have to go home but you can't stay here." Dan, my boy, right you are. I got back on the bike and pointed it towards Bob's. I can't stay here.
Somehow, I got through Iowa, then southern Minnesota. I came back into focus on I35W, just south of Minneapolis. According to the GPS, I had 7 minutes at my current speed to make Bob's without penalty points. The 7 minute margin had shrunk to three when I checked in at 1027 Sunday. I made it.
As I got off the bike, riders I didn't even know came up and asked if I had really been to Waco. "How did they know?" I wondered. Eddie ran over: "Conway and Jay saw you in Texas. They dropped out after Jay hit a dog in Oklahoma! We wondered where you were." I didn't wonder any more. As riders continued to check in, I kept my eyes open for Melody Albers, who had gone to Lynchburg. Eddie had heard she had Alabama AND Georgia for additional bonuses. She would be hard to beat. Eventually Melody rolled in, minutes short of being time barred. Construction had been her downfall.
[A brief warning for 99 IB riders. You had better watch out for Ms. Albers. Melody has ridden strong, smart rides in every MN1K. She is gearing up for the IB and will be a factor. You heard it here first: watch out for Melody.]
It is always a joy to get off the bike after a long ride. I join my fellow riders in enjoying roast pork prepared by "The Divine Swine." I listen to the jazz band. I smile when my wife and daughter show up, and bounce Ms. Vivian on my knee. Eventually, awards are given out. I bring Vivian up to the front to accept my 1st Place Expert trophy: it seems only fitting. Later, KT and Vivian would treat me to fathers day dinner at my favorite Chinese place. I couldn't ask for a better victory dinner.
As I laid down to sleep that night, I heard Dan Wilson's plaintive voice singing in my ear again: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." Let the fun begin.
Just a quick update on the MN-1000 rally this past weekend:
Bobb Todd and I rode the rally together and had a great time. I spent
several hours on Friday night working out the perfect plan for route
based on the initial bonus locations. Then on Saturday morning we
received the rest of the locations and Bobb and I decided on the "Big
Dog Bonus" (gas receipts from Thunder Bay, Ont. and Sault Ste. Marie (MI
or Ont).
We had a great ride -- enjoyed good weather and only lost a little time
while Bobb received some consultation from by the OPP about his riding
habits. We stopped for two sit down meals and still managed to ride
1388 miles in 24 hours on mostly two lane roads with 90 kph and 55 mph
speed limits. Bobb and I ended up with somewhere around 10,000 points
and ended up 9th and 10th in the expert class.
The rally was well organized and a fun event. Anyone interested should
look forward to signing up early for the 1999 rally. The results of
this year's rally should be posted on the web page very soon.
Jim Kraus
As described by the organizers , "the Minnesota 1000 is neither 1000 miles nor entirely in Minnesota." It is a long distance motorcycle rally with a two-fold objective - to ride at least 1000 miles in 24 hours, and to score as many bonus points as possible. The rally package contains about 100 different possible bonus point locations which are located all over the Midwestern United States. The 1998 rally took place during the weekend of the summer solstice, June 20 and 21st. There is a web page for the rally at http://www.visi.com/~awolkoff/98mn1k.htmlThis was to be my first experience with a long distance motorcycle rally and
I wasn't to sure what to expect. I read as much as I could beforehand, including
ride reports from previous MN 1000 rallies and various write-ups about long
distance motorcycling. I was "lucky" enough to meet Eddie James, the
rally organizer, at a motorcycle show in the Twin Cities in the winter. He gave
me last year's rally package to review as part of my preparation. I knew that
the bonus points would be very different, but it was a good way to be introduced
to the format of the bonus point location descriptions.
I've mentioned the bonus point locations a couple of times. Here are a couple
of examples from the 1998 rally:
"34) Hinckley, Minnesota - 143 points - 24 hours
Find the White Castle Phillips 66 Little Store at the Northwest corner of I35
and exit 18 intersection. Pick up a receipt for one White Castle cheese burger.
Hinckley is 100 miles North of St. Paul on I-35
40) Rugby, North Dakota - 1658 points - 24 hours
Rugby is the geographical center of North America. a) What type of marker
indicates the exact spot? b) Pick up a gas receipt in Rugby
Rugby is located in North central North Dakota 55 miles East of Minot. The
marker is West of town off Highway 2."
As you can see, the selection of bonus point locations is .... interesting.
Anyway, on to the rally.
A Liar's Banquet was held Friday evening, hosted by Trackstar Motorsports.
Riders were able to register, pick up tee shirts, eat, chat with other riders,
eyeball the other riders' bikes, etc. Eddie James and Adam Wolkoff held a riders
meeting at the end of the banquet. They emphasized that "this is a rally,
not a race" a number of times, went over important tips and pointers,
discussed logistics for Saturday morning, and handed out a rally package
consisting of about 2/3rd's of the bonus point locations. The remaining bonus
point locations were to be handed out at 10:00 AM Saturday morning, 30 minutes
before riders could leave.
I didn't recognize anyone at the banquet, so I ate and made small talk with
the people I sat with while waiting for the rally package to be handed out. Once
I got the package, I took off for home to plan my route.
At home I laid out the locations on the various state maps I had accumulated
for this event. My route kind of materialized out of the multitude of bonus
point locations. Since this was my first event, my strategy was to come up with
a route that would be at least 1000 miles, but have a number of "cut off
points" where I could head back home depending on my state of well being,
my bike's performance, etc. I wanted to go east into Wisconsin to pick up what
seemed to be an easy bonus at Millston, then head southwest to Iowa, picking up
a bonus by getting gas in Illinois, then head south to Missouri and perhaps
hitting a big bonus in Kansas City. I figured out what time I needed to be in
Des Moines heading south for KC. That would be a decision point and a good
intermediate goal. I briefly thought about an alternate route into South Dakota,
North Dakota and Nebraska, but I didn't give it too much thought. In hindsight,
I wish I had.
I didn't get much sleep that night, thinking about the rally, the pending
sale of our house, the work needed to get the house ready, the recent problem
with the front forks I had with my bike, and various other things that keeps one
awake at night. I woke up at 6:00 AM Saturday and couldn't go back to sleep, so
I made so coffee, reviewed my route, got dressed, kissed my wonderful wife
goodbye, and headed back into Minneapolis to Bob's Java Hut to check in.
At 8:15 AM I checked in and recorded my starting mileage. I parked my bike
and took a look around at the other bikes parked and waiting for the rally. My
quick census showed BMWs with the highest representation, evenly split between
K-bikes and R-bikes. A respectable number of Airheads were waiting to do their
thing. By the way, I ride a 1995 BMW R100RT Classic. My bike prep consisted of
an oil change, adjusting the valves, synching the carbs, checking the air in the
tires, and packing up various goodies and gadgets for the trip. A couple of days
prior to the rally I had noticed a fork oil leak (due to me stripping the
threads of the drain hole) and Dale at Leo's South had put a helicoil in for me
(I didn't have the time myself) and all was well there.
I was kind of intimidated by the collection of bikes waiting for the start of
the rally. I saw a number of Ironbutt license plate holders, ST1100s, Gold
Wings, Voyagers, and Harleys (in surprising numbers, with nary a trailer in
site). I saw a number of people with "L D Rider" hats on. I was
starting to worry about what I had gotten myself into. These were serious
riders. A fair number of bikes had auxiliary gas tanks added on, and others were
carrying half gallon red plastic spare tanks. Some had radar detectors and even
GPS receivers.
Bob's Java Hut was handing out free coffee for the riders, which was great.
Inside, the TV was tuned to the Weather Channel. Clouds started moving in around
9:00 AM, and the radar showed a line of storms approaching the Twin Cities from
the west. At 9:45 AM the line for the single bathroom stretched all through
Bob's, as riders prepared to spend the next 24 hours on their bikes with minimal
bio-breaks. At 10:00 sharp, the remaining route sheets were handed out. I sat
down on the ground to map out the additional bonus point locations and got 5
minutes into it before it started to rain. So I folded up my maps and stashed
them into my tank bag, figuring I'll ride to my first bonus point location and
figure things out from there. I should have looked closer at the Weather Channel
at that point. It might have saved me getting drenched later on.
At 10:30 AM police sirens went off and we were off - 200 bikes trying to
escape from two blocks of street. I headed to 94 East and stopped at a mandatory
check point in St. Paul. The rain was coming on and off, but I held off getting
out my rain gear. After a second mandatory checkpoint, I got back on the highway
and the rain started coming down HARD. I pulled off and got out my size XL rain
suit ... make that my wife's size S rain suit which comes in a case exactly like
mine. Oops. Luckily I had a third mandatory checkpoint planned and I bought a 1
piece Harley Davidson rainsuit at St. Croix H-D. Now I could head back to I-94
and start getting my bonus points.
The first bonus point location I had chosen was a rest stop outside of
Millston Wisconsin. Buy the time I hit this, it looked like the first pass of
rain had stopped and I took off my rainsuit. From here I was going to take I-94
to I-90 West, then take state highways through southwestern Wisconsin to
Cassville, where I would ride the ferry across the Mississippi to Millville Iowa
for another bonus. On this leg I ran into three problems. First, I was tired
from lack of sleep and I had to pull off for a bit and grab something to eat.
This helped me wake up. Second, the turn signal switch on my bike stopped
working. So I used hand signals for the rest of the trip. Finally, I figured out
that I seriously misjudged the amount of time it would take to run my original
route, and that there was no way I was going to make it to Kansas City. So I
figured out plan "B" in my head - just make it into Missouri for one
bonus location and a big state bonus.
I made it to Cassville, got some gas (I needed the receipt to prove I was
there), went to the ferry station, phoned my wife to check in with her while
waiting for the ferry to come across, and watched the rain clouds move back in.
I had been running from them all afternoon and they looked to be finally
catching up. As I crossed the river, the winds picked up significantly and the
drops started. I still had hopes of beating the storm if I could quickly find
the gas station on the Iowa side and then head south to Dubuque. Unfortunately,
I got lost and couldn't find the town. By the time I figured that out, I was
getting wet, so on with the rain gear again. I found the town, but cruising
around in the pouring rain led to another discovery - no gas station. So I
improvised and got a receipt from the bar (don't worry, I didn't buy anything).
I headed to Dubuque in a pouring rain, which cleared up just as I found my
next bonus point location the Fenelon Place Elevator. I rode up it, talked to
the strange man who ran the elevator, and back down; forgetting to get my
receipt. So I had the pleasure of riding it again. By this time it was about
9:00 PM and getting very dark with storm clouds. I could see lots of lightning
in the west - the direction I was going to get to Dyersville Iowa. After crosing
the bridge into Illinois to get some gas, I headed west on Highway 20, hoping to
hit Dyersville and then scram south before I got caught in too much of a storm,
but it didn't look too promising. At one point it seemed there were storm clouds
and lightning all around me, though the rain had yet to start (again). It hit
before I got to Dyersville, even harder than before. The H-D rainsuit was doing
a good job, but my cheap leather gloves were soaked.
I drove around the outskirts of Dyersville and by shear luck found the bonus
point location I needed - the sign that had the hours for the "Field of
Dreams". By now it was raining so hard I couldn't see far enough to ride
safely, so I pulled into a gas station in Dyersville and planned the next legs
of my route. Everything in my tank bag was wet, including maps. I was starting
to get miserable and I was wondering if I shouldn't just bag the whole thing.
But I decided to press on, mostly because I couldn't see myself stopped by some
rain.
When the rain let up a bit I headed south to Riverside Iowa, the future
birthplace of James T. Kirk, captain of the USS Enterprise from Star Trek. This
leg of the ride was the wettest, and the worst. I was pretty sure I wouldn't
make my 1000 in 24, especially if the rain continued like this. I got to
Riverside around midnight and puttered around town looking for the bonus point
location - a replica of the Enterprise in the town park. I couldn't find it in
the rain, so I got some backup information, a phone number from a pay phone near
the park. I kept going and got on to I-80 going west. The rain started to let
up, and I pulled into a truck stop to dry out a bit, eat a bit, and plan my
remaining run.
Getting to Missouri at all was impossible at this point, so I figured out
plan "C" - get to a bonus at Anita Iowa, west of Des Moines on I-80,
then head back on I-80 to I-35, go north and get the bonus points at the
Boondocks truck stop, then get back to the Twin Cities. I figured out the
mileage and figured I had about an hour to spare, and I would finish the rally
with about 1030 miles. Things were starting to look up - even the rain was
clearing. So I headed back out to I-80 westbound.
By this time - 1:00 in the morning, the traffic was thinning out. I picked up
the pace a bit to give myself a bit more of a cushion. As the rain stopped and
the road dried out, the ride started getting fun again. After about an hour and
a half in I-80, I started to get sleepy. I pulled off to a rest stop somewhere
west of Des Moines and at 3:00 in the morning I set my watch alarm for 3:30,
hoping this would do the trick for me. I sat down, leaned up against a pole and
promptly fell asleep. I heard the alarm at 3:30, got up, walked around a bit and
then climbed back on my bike. I was back on the interstate by 3:50.
Unfortunately, I had wasted a lot of my time cushion. I started doing the math
for the remaining route in my head about every 10 minutes. I couldn't afford
much in the way of slip-ups anymore. Fortunately by this time there was very
little traffic on the interstate and I began to ride at a "very
aggressive" speed.
I made it to Anita and once again could not find the bonus point location
without a lot of screwing around. Again, it took shear luck and a glance in the
right direction to find it, a historical marker outside of town. Chasing this
down ate up even more of my time cushion and I was a bit nervous. It was about
4:30 AM and I had about 7 hours of riding at the speed limit facing me, while I
had to get back by 10:30 AM. I headed back east on I-80 at the ever popular
"aggressive rate of speed".
The sunrise at about 5:00 was like a wake up call. I was wide awake and it
looked like I could really finish the rally in time with the necessary miles.
This was getting really fun. As I made my way to I-35 north, I started seeing
other riders. This was the first I had seen since a few hours into the rally. I
rode with a few other people as we screamed north on I-35, but soon they pulled
off, perhaps in need of fuel. I made it to Boondocks, got my information for the
bonus points and some gas, then headed back out towards the Twin Cities.
I overtook a few other riders heading north. I didn't have enough range to
make it from Boondocks to Minneapolis without one more time wasting gas stop, so
I pushed it pretty hard all the way into Minnesota. I got gas in Faribault and
figured out that I had opened my time cushion to about 45 minutes. I called my
wife to let her know I was OK (she's the worrying type) then headed out for the
last leg.
I pulled into Bob's with 1043 miles and 23 hours, 45 minutes on the clock. I
turned in my route sheet, receipts, etc., and they gave me a 1000 miles in 24
hours pin. From this point, things are a bit hazy. I had a couple of glasses of
really good iced coffee, and things picked up. I watched other riders come in,
chatted with others about routes and adventures, and waited for the food and the
rally results. I will certainly pay better attention to the weather next year. I
found those who headed west right away instead of east had great weather and
stayed dry.
I didn't finish in the top 5 in my class, but I felt like I did a respectable
job. Hell, I was just glad to complete the 1000 in 24 - I was pretty proud of
the pin I was wearing. There were a small handful who did 2000 miles for the
rally and some pretty high point totals.
This event was a hell of a lot of fun. Eddie James, Team Strange, Bob's Java
Hut, Trackstar Motorsports and the whole crew deserve a huge thanks for putting
on a great rally. I'm already planning to enter next year, and I'm already
scheming on better strategies. For example, I'll work out at least two general
routes in opposite directions so I can avoid bad weather if the need arises.
Jon McDermott
people lots of motorcycles and miles, miles, miles. For the Long
Distance Rider community it is known as a "motorcycle endurance rally".
For the layperson we’ll call it a scavenger hunt on wheels.
Here’s the idea. Leave uptown Minneapolis at 10:30 on a Saturday
morning. Return by 10:30 on Sunday morning to the same uptown spot
having ridden your motorcycle for twenty four hours and collected bonus
points all along the way. The person with the most points wins. Easy
right, sit on the bike and let the miles add up.
I left work at noon on Friday June 19th headed for Minneapolis, MN. I
was just going into work to do the deposits and clean up a few messes I
made earlier in the week. No such luck. The phone was always for me.
Always something else I had to do before finally leaving town. Oh well I
have been packed for a week. I’ve been looking forward to this event for
some time so all was carefully packed and checked several times. Nothing
would be forgotten, except a watch, extra film, etc.
The ride to Minn. was easy good weather, a little windy but nice. My
plan was to pick up all my mandatory check points on Friday before the
rally just to get them out of the way. I stopped by Faribault Harley
Davidson on my way up I35. 2 points down. I used the computer to draw
little maps of the city to locate all the shops that were mandatory.
There is a web site called Vicinity.com that will find and make a map of
any address you put in. It worked like a charm. I drove right to Warner
Motorsports. I check the clock, remember no watch, 4:30 I ‘m running out
of time. The prerally banquet is at 5:00 at Trackstars Moto Guzzy. They
are a mandatory site as well. I’ll just head over and take care of that
and get my bonus location packet. I’ll take care of the other mandatory
point in the morning. Besides they are worth more points during the
rally then the day before. I just wanted to get them out of the way so I
could hit the highway on Saturday instead of wondering around the city
for hours. I hate to ride in the city. Cars suck, people suck, people in
cars are the worst of all.
The Liars Banquet is quite the buzz. I roll up to this little shop in
the middle of the city and both sides of the street are lined with
motorcycles. All makes and models. It was a very cool site. I was
somewhat surprised to see all the Harleys. There were several. Normally
I just see Harleys in town or on a trailer headed for Sturgis. I was
also surprised to see so may sport bikes. This looked more like a
Goldwing, BMW RT event then a sport bike gathering. I get a plate of
food and sit down by the only person there that I have ever met. Jeff
Lambert, I met Jeff the week before when we both witnessed Ron Ayers
7/49 ride at the Iowa check point. The food was OK, but that’s not what
I was here for. The packets that’s all I wanted. After a few
announcements and a door prize or two the packets were handed out. "Do
not open them yet" said Eddy the rally master. A few more announcements
and off the cover came. There were three bonus locations on page 1
Litchburg TN., Waco, TX., and Woody Creek, Co. Eddy said you can go to
Bob’s Java Hut right now and they will check you out. You may leave for
these immediately. Apparently this is a popular thing to do because
16
people headed for Bobs. The other big news is this is only part of the
bonuses. The rest will be handed out at 10:00 am Saturday.
Bob's Java Hut, I called my friend from the cities after I signed up for
the rally last winter. I asked him if he new where Bobs Java Hut was
located. He said it was a good John Elway pass for his back door. I said
perfect I’ll need a place to stay the night of the 19th of June. Bob's
Java Hut was described to me as a Bikers coffee bar. I had visions of
leather clad Harley yuppies sipping Lattes. Never wearing rain gear
because then you couldn’t see the $800.00 worth of leather they had just
purchased. This is not what Bobs is. You will always have a few of the
guys around but you have them every where now days. Bob’s was a
motorcyclist coffee house. There are pictures of Mike the Bike on the
walls, Moto Guzzy service signs, and every motorcycle mag that you can
name in the rack to read. One wall is covered with pictures of people on
bikes and bike. There is one picture of Gene Overpiller stuck in there
for good measure. Gene is a Bicycle racer. The front window is a garage
door, very open air. I loved it. I saw all kinds of cool motorcycle as
well. Guzzys, Ducs, BMWs, Harleys, Nortons, and all sorts of others. I
felt at home. We received a red arm band at the Liars Banquet the night
before. This was good for free coffee, tea, and Ice coffee for the
entire rally. Nice touch.
I headed over to Jay Hendersons house for the night. He lives literally
one block away from Bobs. I set up in his living room and start to study
maps and pore on the bonus locations. I have the killer route mapped out
and it is only, oh shit 1:30 in the morning. Jay's house is a Bicycle
racer's house. In the bicycle racing world we all do things on the
cheap. It is a very low profit industry so there is not much money to be
made in the shops or the racing world. Bike racers have this sort of
shared housing thing worked out. Racers know that if there is a race I
Iowa City IA. They can show up at Kens house and room will be made. It
is the same at Jays, this weekend is the district road race so every bed
and every couch is taken. I fortunately have celebrity status and get a
bed for the night. Some the racers are not as serious as others so
several guys wonder in at 1:30 after the bars are closed. I’m up at the
crack of dawn and off to Kincos to copy a few route sheets. Then it’s
off to Bobs to see what it is all about.
Bob’s is bustling when I arrive. Eddy has his man check me in and log
my odo. 15520 I’m all set. I get my first cup of coffee and watch the
riders roll in. This is fascinating to me. The competitors are great.
There is no posturing, no psych jobs. There are a lot of friendly
competitors discussing possible routes. I sit at a table with several
people. I’m terrible with name so bear with me. Sev Pearyman is one of
the people. He asks me if I have ever done this sort of thing before I
say no and the advice starts to roll in. Several people give me ideas,
Sev tells me a couple of good general rules to follow. Things on route
planning and time management are mentioned most. After being late
before Sev feels he has a grasp of the time thing now. A guy riding an
old Guzzy talks with me for some time, then I see my old friend Lee
Freidman. Lee did the rally the year before and loved it so this year he
rode from New York to do it again.
10:00 we get the missing route sheets. Of course these are the real
meat, the big point locations and prime route killers. My route is
killed in one fail swoop. My original plan was to head northwest out of
Minneapolis then circle down south across the top on Iowa the Illinois,
then up though Wisconsin. I was hoping to make the run up to Duluth then
down into the cities. My thought was that if I was running out of time I
could cut across anytime of run West into the cities. It was a good
plan. The big points were else where though. I found this out at
10:01am. Sev told me to stop and reevaluate your route at least three
times before the rally ended so I did right there and heading South
right away. Well, after I got one more mandatory point in the city that
is.
10:30 200 people head out at the same time. That was a cool site. I
headed straight to The Hitching Post in St. Paul. Then I94 to I35 south
to Faribault Harley. I know I was already here yesterday, but it is on
my way down south and it is worth more points today. Did I mention the
rain. It started to rain right before the start which I took as a good
sign. One it was getting it out of the way and two I put my rain gear on
before the ride instead of stopping during the ride to get them on. Rain
all the way to Faribault. Rain all the way to Mankato to the Zanz
Mexican Restaurant to figure out the name and get a receipt for a
chilito. Then it was off to Sherburn MN. To find out who this was the
birthplace of. Dale a Gardner, shuttle astronaut is the answer. It quit
raining for a few minutes. Now it was down I90 then South again to Lone
Rock IA. to have refreshments with Lori Schmits parents. Lori was on the
ride and was also a volunteer for the rally. Her parents were very nice.
We had to check in and stay for at least twenty minutes. We also had to
return with a little gift for the schmits. This was worth 1070 points.
Big points for this rally. I then headed to the Grotto of the redemption
in West Bend IA. We had to find out the price of admission for one
adult. I have one observation about this area of Iowa. Flat, the sign
said 9 miles to West Bend when I turned the corner, but I could see West
Bend when I turned the corner. It was 9 miles. I find the Grotto and the
answer on log it all in my log book, then off to the gas station to top
off. I log this as well. It is raining harder now.
Garner Iowa to a certain clothing shop to buy ¼ yard of fabric. It is
raining harder then I have ever seen it. I run though Clear Lake and
Mason City, everyone is off the road. I keep going. The parking lots are
all full of water. I have not seen water like this since the Great
Floods of 93.
I run to Naushua, IA. And the Little Brown Church in the Vail. Then it’s
off to Waterloo. I find mile marker 195, I’m looking for the motorcycle
club that volunteers to pick up trash between mile marker 195 and 192.
First sign is Nation Honor Society, the next is blank, on the last is
Community Credit Union. No motorcycle club. I run South another mile
then back North again. I ride to mile marker 195, nothing going North
the signs are the same. Maybe I missed it. I head South again no luck. I
stop at the 192 mile marker and log the Odo and time. I write none for
the answer and hope for the best. The whole time I have been looking to
the West. The clouds are as black as I’ve ever seen and the whole area
has the pea green look. Then the lightning was shooting everywhere. I’ve
also seen the destruction from the storm two days before here. The
lightning is almost constant now so I decide it is time to get out of
here. I run the R80/7 up to about eighty and head for home. I’m doing 75
in a 55 when I look to my left and a Waterloo cop is right beside me. He
came out of nowhere. OH SHIT. He doesn’t have his lights on, so I point
to the West. All he does is nod and waves me forward. My luck is with
me. Maybe it is the four hundred miles of rain I have just ridden
through.
I get gas in Urbana IA. Log the info and mount the machine. I hit the
starter and nothing. I hit it again and nothing again. I’m 40 miles from
home, home is a good place to try and fix whatever is wrong. A quick
push start and I’m off.
My wife can’t believe it. She knows the sound of the R80 well but is
sure she will not see me this weekend. She checks the door anyway and
sees me in the driveway ripping things off the motorcycle. I check the
easy things first. I replace the relay, I replaced it a week ago so I
put the old one back in and nothing. I take the switch apart and it all
looks good. I pull the air cleaner and the starter cover and stick a
screwdriver across the solenoid. It jumps to life. It is not the
starter, it has to be a switch or relay. I go through it all again and
nothing. I reassemble the beast and go inside to think. Lu makes me
dinner and I stare at the TV in silence. I’m mad that the starter
doesn’t work, I’m mad that I can’t make it work, but I want to ride. My
wife has a way of putting things into perspective. She says if it’s not
fun then don’t do it. If you can still have fun figure out a way to
finish. A smarter man might have stayed home. I’m in my own house, warm
and dry. I look at my wife and say I’m having a blast. She says get out
there and have fun.
I’m at the 500 mile mark in my driveway and I suit up again. I push
start the R80 and head for Riverside IA. Future birth place of Captain
James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. Riverside is only ten miles
from my house. I know right where the Starship Enterprise sits. I hit
the park. It’s gone. The damn thing is on wheels and it is gone. I hit
the local bar. Motorcycle running helmet in hand I walk up to the bar
and ask the bartender where the hell is the Enterprise. He laughs and
inquires why I would want to know at 10:30 at night, in the rain, on a
motorcycle. I explain the whole deal and he loves it. He directs me to
the house of the guy that carts the Enterprise around to parades. It’s
parked in his yard hooked to his van. UCC1818 that’s the number, I’m off
to Ottumwa IA.
My plan before supper was still to head East and into Illinois and up
though Wisconsin. After watching the weather I decided to head for
Riverside then Ottumwa and on to Missouri. I’ll have to run though a
nasty storm but it is clear on the other side. This idea looked better
than riding in the rain the rest of the rally. I’ve done a lot of long
distance bicycling, 24 hour challenges, triple centuries, things like
that. We always look for little psychological edges to get us though,
this was my edge. Run for the clear skies.
Ottumwa is a crappy little town. I call it a trailer court society, a
true Walmart only town. There is only one gas station open in town after
10:00 and it is all the way on the east side of town. I come into town
from the West. A run though town is a friendly site after the little two
lane roads with no shoulder and no lines in rain even harder than in
Clear Lake. When I was at home and watching the weather I learned that
it rained 5 inches in one hour in Clear Lake. It was worse here. I
literally had to wait for the lightning to see the turns in the road. I
have auxiliary lights and everything but it still was not enough.
I head down highway 34 towards I35. This is where things got a little
weird. The rain was letting up and all of the sudden I was running
though a sea of toads, frogs. They were migrating from one side the road
to the other by the hundreds. After the frogs let up the rain quit and
thousands of lightning bugs started to rise up. This was much cooler
than the frog, they would leave little neon streaks up my faring as I
hit them, I would have ten or twelve streaks at any one time.
My new plan was to head for I35 then South in to Misery to get a gas
receipt. Sev said to think on the road, so I started adding up miles and
time. I was in Oceola IA. At the I35 interchange, a thought came to
mind. It was 40 miles to the nearest town in Misery, will I be able to
get gas at 2:00 am or will I have to head farther South. One of the
bonuses was for a 3 hour layover. Can I take my layover at Bobs Java
Hut. If I can it is worth lots more than the Misery gas receipt Remember
my starter is gone, I’m not wanting to go looking for bonus location at
this point. Let’s head for Bobs. I came here to ride at least 1000 miles
and not come in late. This will give me 777 points for the layover and
guarantee on time.
I make the turn North and it is perfect out. The sky is thick with
stars. The weather is cool and dry finally. I saw three shooting stars
on my way to DesMoines. I stop in West DesMoines for gas and my first
coffee since leaving Bobs. I look for a different pair of gloves and
find the PB&Js my wife stashed in my side bag. Food is good. I’m always
surprised to see the number of people out and about at 3:00am.
My next stop is Albert Lea MN. After gassing up and getting another cup
of bad coffee I walk around the lot to loosen up and watch the sun come
up. I hear the sound of a BMW heading South. I look out at the Highway
and I see my old friend Lee Freidman heading South for some extra miles.
When the sound of the Beemer fads I hear the unmistakable sound of a
Vmax heading East with another motorcycle. I think for a while about how
cool it is to hear and see these other cycles that are clearly also part
of this rolling game we are all participating in. It was also cool to
see Lee had made it thought the night with no problems.
My run into Minnesota and Minneapolis was pretty routine except for the
fog in Southern MN. Thank god for the Auxiliary lights. They were the
best purchase I have made in a long time.
I roll into Minneapolis and quickly realize that I will be short on
miles. I run down 94 till I’m reasonably sure I am OK, then I head for
the Lyndale exit. Super America is the first place I see. I run in and
grab the first thing I see and toss it on the counter with my debit
card. 7:31 one minute late and a bag of Peanut M&Ms. One minute later
and I’m at Bobs and Eddy is standing in front of me. I ask Eddy if I can
do the 3 hour bonus. He said you’ll clock in at 10:31 and take a 5 point
penalty for the minute but a tidy 772 point gain. "Yes you can do
that".
I shut the motor down and park right there. I change into shorts and get
the Macanudo I saved for the finish. A good cup of coffee and a Macanudo
are a great way to finish.
1002 miles, 650 miles of rain, one bird, lots of frogs, thousands of
bugs, four PB&Js, more fun then stomping baby bunnies. It was a great
time. Eddy and his crew did a great job. The people at Bobs Java Hut
were great as well. It was especially fun to sit and watch the people
come back in. Hearing the stories and finding out where people went was
a blast.
Ken Lefler
Iowa City, IA.