Mark Koch's Ride Report

June 13th 2002 Thursday. 52,063 miles on the bike. I leave my house at 06:00. Get outta town at 06:30 with some last minute bullshit. Gas. Water. Bank. I know, all this shoulda been done days ago. But after my DNF (Did Not Finish) in the GLC (Great Lakes Challenge), I didn’t have a lot of expectations for this ride. My charging system is still a little queasy. So I’m down the road and by the time I reach Carver, I’m starting to get that feeling. The Road Trip. The Rally Road Trip. I wind my way down the river a while, careful to avoid Mankato in the morning. I’m in search of some tiny out of the way diner but I think I’m a little too hungry to think about it too much. I stop in Courtland, MN for some gas and the station attendant tells me, “We usually just go to the Perkins in New Ulm.” “No I’m talkin more local.” I say. She just shook her head. I head down the road. I stop in New Ulm at some downtown restaurant. I’m not kidding when I say I counted 22 old guys in there. Breakfast was decent but the people watching was classic. There was a table of about 6 playin dice. I think they were playin for breakfast. People making deliveries, retirees, farmers. Working Men. I was too busy trying the figure out the trick coffeepot. One of those old kinds that if you put your thumb on the lid just a little too hard, it spills the coffee all over you. Good thing I was done with breakfast. I tried to be non-chalant. As non-chalant as is possible in this situation. Wiping it up with the napkins. It really was no big deal to me; it honestly didn’t get me very wet and I was too damn excited to care. But ohh, I bet ya they got a little chuckle out of it. This long haired biker. Spillin coffee all over his freak self. That’s o.k. I’m down the road in search of Petroglyphs. Don’t know what they are but they got to be cool with a name like that.
The Minnesota Historical Society welcomes ME to Jeffers Petroglyphs. These are ancient Indian carvings just outside of the small town of Jeffers, MN. About a ½ mile walk to get to em. I figure it will be good Rally practice. So I briskly walk to the ridgeline of rock. Look at some pictures carved into the rock. Buffalo. Stick Men. People with Circle Feet. Walk briskly back. 45 minutes? That’s way too slow. I’ll have to work on that. Way too slow. Oh well gotta go. Onward to Niobrara.

Teamstrange is moving the Minnesota 1000. The nation’s premiere 24 hour motorcycle endurance event is being picked up and brought to Niobrara, Nebraska. NEBRASKA!! They say it’s a hidden gem. I guess we’ll see. It’s been a while since I have been to Nebraska. The “I’ve Been Everywhere Tour” took me to Lincoln, NE. Home to The LaPaloma Mexican Restaurant. Some of the best damn Mexican anywhere. Eddie James fell head over heels in love with Niobrara when he stopped in on a motorcycle ride back in the early nineties. It was pouring rain, everyone was really nice, the food was great and it has been a perennial stop on the Minnesota 1000 ever since. Oh, and it is also the birthplace of one Danny Liska. Danny and his wife Arlene set out from Niobrara back in the fifties on their trusty BMW and rode from Alaska to the southern tip of South America. After that little jaunt, they rode from Norway to the southern tip of Africa. Arlene will be speaking at a special dinner at the MN1K. I read the book Danny wrote about the first dual continental crossing called 2 Wheels to Adventure. I wouldn’t miss meeting Mrs. Liska for the world.
Eddie James and Adam Wolkolf have been known to have a different sense of humor. Maybe they won't’show up at all and pay the locals big money to deny they know anything about any tarned motor sickle event. Then they can just jump out of a cake or some sick twisted thing. (Sorry for the awful visual) I wouldn’t put it past either of them.

My upcoming decision after breakfast is; freeway through The Windtunnel, (Southern Minnesota) or back roads? There is an unbelievably long line of huge windmills in southern Minnesota. It stretches at points as far as you can see in both directions. When I ride by them I have a hard time concentrating on the road. They are these huge technological beasts but they have something so peaceful about them. I often feel I would love to own a house by them. Sit out on my back porch with some beer and barbecue and watch the windmills. I wonder what the people who live by them really feel. I decide on freeway for a small stretch and head to Worthington, MN. I stop in Fulda, MN for fuel. I often like to say the names of towns out loud to myself while I’m riding. Put some kind of weird spin on the pronunciation on the name. Right near Fulda is Kinbrae and Brewster. Go ahead and say it like Festus from Gunsmoke. “Why sheriff, those boys could be in Fulda, Kinbrae , or all the way ta damn Brewster by now !” I was chuckling to myself already.


I hit I-90 at Worthington. First I pull into a parking lot and dig out my map of SD to put in the map pouch of my tank bag. Then I’m on the superslab headed south through Sioux Falls on I-29. I have relatives there so I do feel kinda bad bustin through town without a stop but I am seriously on a mission. I cut over at 46 destined for Yankton, SD. Yankton is probably lost on me as I can damn near smell Niobrara. But there is a double decker bridge there that crosses the Missouri River that is pretty damn cool to ride over. Or should I say under ? I even thought of turning around and going back. But if I can get settled in at the campground, I can go on the poker run, screw around all day on Friday, listen to Arlene Liska talk Friday night, run a great rally the next day etc, etc, etc. . . My whole weekend is planned out. I should have known better. I make one more gas stop and I’m in the home stretch. I can’t even tell you the last town I got gas in. Crofton or Lindy. It doesn’t matter, I have crossed the Missouri River. Let the Rallying begin.
I pull into Niobrara to get fuel. I have only gone maybe 20 miles since my last gas stop, but I want to be fresh as rain when I see Eddie. He will probably ask me for my Wisconsin Odometer Check paperwork. “What’s that?” I say. Eddie is barking like marine at me at this point. “What could possibly be your excuse for not doing the Wisconsin Odometer Check!!?? It was on the website boy!!. It was talked about in all the literature, now go run it again and this time stay in the right lane for god sakes. I don’t care what farm machinery you’re behind, now GO! GO! Chop chop the poker run is about to start!”

The Two Rivers Saloon, Hotel & Steakhouse is across the street from the gas station. How convenient. From the highway, this establishment looks unassuming. A plain faced building with the name painted on it. Any normal bar in America. I drive up to what I believe is the front and there are some dudes there doing construction. I drive on around the side, take the one way about a block up to the highway and take another shot at her. I go past and take a right. Then another. That’s when I am transported in time to the old west. I find out latter that the front was actually saved from the old town before it was moved. Hey is that Pa Cartright sittin out front? I slide inside. No Strangers as far as I can see. I ask the lady behind the bar if she knows anything about the rally. She looks at me as if I’ve lost it. Something about some people showing up tomorrow or something. I begin to wonder how much they paid her. I head to the campground. Niobrara State Park. There is a small shack near the entrance to the Park. I pull up and stop. The gentleman in the booth has no idea what I am talking about. I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to. It’s a conspiracy. Eddie must have oil money and just does this for the fun. The old timer in the shack tells me to head to the office, they might know something. I’m beginning to think somehow this is the wrong weekend. I head to the office. It’s about a mile and a half trip. One thing Eddie hasn’t so far lied to me about. The place is beautiful. Finally, I find someone Eddie hasn’t gotten to. The lady in the office knows of which that I doth speak, however she is not aware of having seen or spoken to the good Rev. Lovejoy. She shows me a map of the campground and where I can camp. I go down the road, which leads up a hill where there are some cabins and then the road turns to serious construction dirt. The kind where the sides just drop off about 20 feet. I take my chances and head down. I see no tents. I can’t be the first one here! Just then I spot a Honda Magna parked at a spot with a tent. Could it be? I take my chances and stop. Someone emerges from the tent. He greets me with a handshake and says his name is Bob. Yep, he is here for the Two Wheels To Niobrara MN1K. I’m beginning to feel a little better. He offers me some coffee. I think about previous campground coffee I have enjoyed and shudder but accept anyway. This coffee not only tastes pretty good but has a hell of a kick too. So much for pre-conceived notions. We shoot the shit for a while about bikes and fuel cells and gadgets galore and finally decide to head out and look for the dynamic duo. Eddie & Adam. Adam & Eddie. Come on people I need to set up my tent! Just in case we find them and I have to end up transporting my gear, I leave my pack in Bob’s tent. More room for my other crap. At the office we find Adam & Eddie looking surprised to see us. A few other riders are also at the office looking lost and disheveled. Our road warrior family is slowly taking shape. We are told to stay put as the Teamstrange pair scout us out some place to locate our camp. I guess the trailer with our camping gear isn’t there just yet so we decide to head back to the Two Rivers Saloon. But not before Eddie informs us that after some negotiations, the state park staff has agreed to let our group make the top of the bluff line our new home away from home.

The top of the bluff line has tent sites, shelters, toilets, and really twisty and steep roads leading up and down the hills that are just plain fun to drive. The trip from the main entrance to my campsite was 3 miles, and of the probably 20 or more times I drove this route, every single time made me smile. Oh and did I mention the most incredible view of the Missouri River valley. Oh yeah, there was that. I bet you could see for close to 20 miles in all directions. Maybe that is an exaggeration. But I tell you it was freaking gorgeous.

The Two Rivers is considered “base camp” for the TeamStrange mucketty mucks. Fancy accommodations. Seems I remember someone saying something about them betting Danny Liska wouldn’t have needed a hotel room but what do I know?? Here we meet Rader and the rest of the Two Rivers staff. Everyone was just fantastic. The food was great. I think I had somewhere around 5 or 6 cheeseburgers. The service was great. But most of all everyone made us all feel welcome. I felt as though I were one of the locals.

I find out the camping gear didn’t leave Minneapolis till 4 or 5 this afternoon. This puts a crimp in some of our plans but I’m having way too much fun to let it affect my mood. We hang out at the Two Rivers talking about all kinds of stuff all night. Victor Wanchena and Bob Young offer me suggestions about my funky electrical system on my bike.(etc)
We are sittin around and just talking when the trailer shows up at 02:00 a.m. We head up to the campground to search out a suitable spot, get my pack out of Bob’s tent, and get some much-needed rest. It’s been a long day. But just wait until tomorrow. We put our roots down at the parking area with the big shelter . . . Just in case. I do a quick run around the area and find a spot right on the edge of the cliff. I through my pack down to claim my spot and head to the trailer for the rest of my gear. It takes me maybe 15 minutes to set up my tent. I raise my arms in triumph over my tent. When I turn around I notice Victor is still struggling with his tent. I think it’s not a tent meant for one person to set up. Hey Victor, Barnum & Bailey want their tent back! I’m asleep by three. The sun is up and plenty bright at six. I step out of my tent and just stand there for a while. The view is so incredible I try to soak it all in . Sometimes it seems strange to me the places I find myself standing at in my life. That feeling will happen many times to me this weekend. I hop on the bike and head into town. It’s time to check in.

At the Two Rivers I have another cheeseburger and get a feel for what is happening. People are starting to arrive now. When you check in you are handed a packet. Inside the packet are some cool stickers commemorating this event, a plastic baggy for receipts, and the first of two route sheets. You will see maybe 75% of all possible bonus locations in this first route sheet. I take a nervous look at the locations. There are places to go to in all directions and at various distances from 10 miles away to several hundred. The challenge is to figure out which ones you could string together on one ride that will give you the most points and still have you back to the finish line in the time allotted. You could come to this event, ride a couple hundred miles around, earn some points, have a good time, and maybe even take home a plaque for your efforts. Or you could go all out and try to “win”. Some people ask me why I do this if there is no money to be won. One reason is the challenge. The other is the adventure. I decide to not decide what I’m going to do just yet. I’m going back to my tent, think about possible routes and try to take a nap. I like to take a U.S. map, and write down the bonus locations with points and times that location is open so I can get a feel of where I should go. It’s not scientific, more of just gut reaction to the pattern. I saw one guy sitting in the bar with a laptop computer. I suppose, use the tools available. Personally , I like to do it all on my own. It just seems to be more of a challenge. More of an adventure. In my tent, I am looking at the all the various bonus points, getting more excited by the minute, I decide to go west but I’m holding off the final decision till I get the second route sheet. That could change everything depending on where those locations are. I was originally planning on going to the dinner Friday night then starting the Rally early Saturday morning. I wouldn’t miss the dinner for anything. I’m still unsure of where I am going but one thing is certain, The dinner with Arlene being worth points ensures I’m going to start there. 

Playing the entire Rally on a moment to moment basis is essential for me. Some like everything all planned out. Some don’t. There will be no sleep for me as I am too excited but I lay there for three hours anyway. I figure the rest will at least help. The dinner with Arlene begins at 19:30. You have 1 hour with the second list of bonus locations, and after that your time begins. So I wait till 18:30 to check in That will ensure my rally will begin right before 19:30. Plenty of new locations west seals the deal. I will head to Lusk, WY immediately after the dinner and play it by ear from there. On a ride like this you must listen to your body. If you are tired, you have to pull over and sleep. If you are hungry, you better damn well eat. Not listening to your body will lead to stupid decisions that could lead to a crash. That is why I try to play it by ear. My original plan is to hit so many bonus locations that no one could even come close to beating me. But as the ride progresses I always drop some of the locations for one reason or another. Sometimes the place is just too far. Or maybe I want to stop and have a sit down meal. That will eliminate a bonus location or two. But that’s O.K. Having fun and making it back are the real deal. No matter what, there will always be a good tale to tell.

At 19:19 I have my route sheet signed by Eddie signifying I have begun my rally. The diner begins promptly at 19:30 and if you do not have your sheet signed by then this bonus dinner worth nearly 2000 points is closed to you. Arlene talks about snakes and monkeys and mud slides and getting sick and having to return home at times. She traveled to 60 countries on those 2 BMW’s sitting up there in the front of the room. I am enthralled by her. It is easy imagining this woman traveling to so may countries with the charm that she possesses. I could listen to her talk all night. But as she continues I start to think she really could talk all night. I feel guilty but she is breaking into extremely valuable riding time. Eddie thankfully stops her at the hour point and lets us go. I sign out from the dinner and head down the road. 

My first stop is just up the road in Monowi, NE. The question is what is the population of Monowi ? Unbelievably the state issued sign denoting the town reads 2. I guess in Nebraska all it takes is two to make a town. I continue west on highway 12. There have been three towns since Niobrara and none have had even a closed gas station. I have had a tank of gas get me anywhere from 110 miles to 150 miles. It is getting late on the weekend in Nebraska. I decide to head south to a US highway. O’Neill looks like a larger town on the map. They have a gas station there that is closed but has 24-hour gas. My decision to head south 30 miles out of my way already appears sound. I head west and find another gas station 50 miles away in Bassett, NE. I fill up everytime I see gas. I also pick up a litre of water to refill my platypus. The platypus is a bag that fits in my tank bag with an attached hose that I can drink from while I am riding. I will not ride long distances without it. I stop again in Valentine to fill up. I see another stranger at the pumps. I wave and continue on. Just past Valentine I cross into the Mountain Time Zone. I will have to remember that as every stop I make must list a time. And as always, all times are local. I have just gained 1 hour. Outside of the town of Rushville, NE (my latest gas stop) I notice I am getting tired. I see a sign with a tree and a picnic table. I pull in and am treated to one tree with a picnic table next to it. Truth in advertising. I pull in close to the tree and lay down next to my bike. I set my “Screaming Meanie” alarm clock for 30 minutes and shut my eyes. I am asleep within a few minutes and then the meanie does its thing. I have it on the “quiet” setting, which is still very loud. When it goes off I hear coyotes howling and it sounds like they are right across the road from me. I hop on the bike with the determination of a child who is afraid of the dark basement running up the stairs. I swear the coyotes were chasing me. I stop in Chadron, NE for some fuel and decide to head into the bathroom with some long underwear and long socks. The few bank thermometers I have seen have said around 50 degrees. I have been wearing my heated vest but am still cold. I head out but within 20 or 30 miles I am again getting tired. I stop at a historical marker and lie down next to the bike. This time I set the Meanie for 60 minutes. I awake to the sound of thunder off in the distance. I look up and the sky is clear with billions of stars. I must be dreaming. The first faint indications of daylight are creeping into the sky. I hear the thunder again. I open my eyes and still see only clear skies. I tilt my head back slightly to see the sky black with lightning streaking through it. Oh crap. I get up and hop on the bike. I do not put on my rainsuit, I figure if it starts I will pull over. I feel much better after my rest. The rain cloud looks like a wall and is just to the north of the road I am on. I never get a drop on me. 

I finally make it to Lusk, WY at about 05:00 local time. There is construction going on and there is a huge pile of dirt and rocks right in the middle of the road. I hit it and it wobbles me but no big deal. I pull into the first gas station in town that I see. It is not open but has 24 hour fuel. There is a Strangers bike parked at the end of the pumps but no one is in sight. You can usually tell when it’s another Strangers bike. The stickers give it away. I fill the bike and look around but see no one. I’m heading out to the Featherlegs monument and know I must return this way, so well see if the bike is still there when I return. My wife and I went to the Eisenhower Tunnel in Colorado last year for the Presidential Tour. We came right through Lusk and actually stopped at the wayside rest mentioned in the route sheet. The route sheet says a “local road” just west of the wayside rest. I take the left and head down the road. I’d heard horror stories of how bad this road was. “Ohh you’re going out there! Hope ya got a dual sport bike!” Dirt roads don’t bother me. This one seems pretty decent for the first mile or so. The route sheet says 10 miles down this local road. The road worsens. Washboards at 50 miles an hour really dampen the ride. I slow down and take it a little easier. The road is a twisty one going up and down with washouts here and there. The antelope are playing all over the place. (Yes Eddie, the antelope were playing) This road is also home to a free-range cattle herd. That just means they are free to play on the road. The older ones stay away from me but the younger ones are intrigued with me and come in for a closer look. Just as I near the calves, they figure it is safe to run in front of my path. I see a small fenced in area about 10 feet square just ahead. This must be the place, as there is nothing else man-made on this road. A half a dozen graves are in this fenced in area with one tall stone for Mother Featherlegs Shepherd. She was a prostitute in the days of the trade route between Deadwood and Lusk. She was murdered for her money. I need to write down who is buried next to her. I do and snap a few pictures before heading back to Lusk. I wonder if there was some other reason that I was drawn here. Maybe in a previous life I murdered Ms. Shepherd. Or maybe I was Ms Shepherd. Or maybe she is my wife now. You never know. There is a lot of time to think up bizarre things while riding.

I head back to Lusk and see Steve walking down the street by the gas station. I pull up to re-fuel and he tells me he hit that huge mound of dirt at the construction site at the beginning of town also and it blew his tire. He said he thought of me, as earlier at the campground I had relayed my story to him of blowing my tire in Devils Lake, ND on the MN2K. He says he is waiting for the gas station across the street to open and he is going to try to patch it and limp it back to Niobrara. I tell him he should check in with Eddie just in case. I wish him luck and hope he makes it. I unfortunately know exactly how he’s feeling. I head north to Newcastle, WY. That is my next stop for fuel.

I gas up at Newcastle, WY and notice the time stamp on the fuel receipt says the same time as my watch and my bike’s clock. I know I am in Mountain Time, so this must be wrong. Luckily this is the first time I have encountered any problems with receipts. I go back in to the gas station to tell the two ladies my problem. My clock must be wrong, they say. They point to the clock on the wall and sure enough it also says the same time as mine. One of the ladies says she is from somewhere in Minnesota and she remembers having to switch her clock on the ride out. So this is Mountain Time she is pretty sure. I am in the twilight zone. I note the correct time and head north on 85 to Four Corners, WY. That is where I will decide whether or not to tackle Devils Tower. I actually pull over at the intersection of 85 and 585 and look down both ways. I think that even if I do get a DNF, I will have seen Devils Tower and that’s cool enough for me. I head northwest on 585 destined for Devils Tower. One more gas stop in Sundance and I’m on my way up 24. What a beautiful road. This will be my third trip to the Tower. How could it possibly ever get old. I hope to go again someday. I stop once for a photo at one of pulloffs on this road made just for such a thing. As I get closer to the Tower I see the prairie dogs. I think back to the last time I was here, laying on my belly in that field of prairie dogs taking close up photos of these animals with my zoom lens. They sit up just like my dachshund. I stop at the entry shack thinking the stamp was in there. “It’s another 2 miles to the visitors center where the stamp is.” She says. Others wrapped in motorcycle garb and looking frantic like me must have already been here. It is worth big points after all. “thanks!” I say as I hop back on and head to the visitor’s center. Once inside the gentleman points me to the stamp with a wave of the hand. I stamp my route sheet and head back to the bike to record my odometer reading and the current local time. I notice two other Strangers in the lot fiddling with stuff on their bikes. I hop on and head out.

I head to Aladdin, WY the next stop on my route. 1000 points for a receipt for purchase of anything in the Aladdin General Store. On the way the BeeMers come up behind me. I slow and pull near the shoulder to allow them to pass. I follow for a while and let them pull away. You have to run your own rally. That is why I like to do this alone. So I can ride at my own pace. Several miles up the road I spot the BeeMers on the shoulder of the road with some other bike and a car next to them. As I pull up a kid waving a flag instructs me to pull over also. Construction. It will be about 10 minutes till the pilot car returns. When the pick up truck with the “pilot car, follow me” sign strapped to it’s back pulls up it is clear what to do. I take the lead and when we come up to highway 111, I begin to turn when I see a sign out of the corner of my eye that says; “Aladdin General Store just ahead.” I stop in mid turn, right after I had gone through a foot high pile of gravel and decide to cross back over it and continue forward. The flag lady at this end is coming toward me and yelling. “You can’t stop there!” As I am changing directions in mid turn all the Beemers go by me behind and to the right following the route sheet instructions. (Aladdin General Store ON highway 111). Except one (the French foreign guy from Canada) he decides I’m onto something and were off. Just out of reach of the flag lady. The Aladdin General Store is as the sign says, just ahead. Aladdin, WY, Population 15 the sign proudly proclaims. Inside the store are the normal general store food and other necessities. But along with all that is a collection of other oddities like strange little plaques, cards and a whole collection of stuff. Things you just can’t do without I’m sure. I buy a pin and the French guy buys a plaque that says something about logic and guys riding sidesaddle. I’m down the road and heading for Deadwood before any of the other BeeMers show up. Maybe they just kept going to other bonus locations. A quick gas stop in Belle Fourche, SD and Deadwood is just up the freeway. The French guy gets off the freeway with some other Strangers and I continue on to Deadwood. What is needed for the bonus in Deadwood is a one-dollar chip from any casino in town. I stop in at Cadillac Jack’s because it is right at the beginning of town. I head out on 14A toward Sturgis and all points east.

This is the final leg of my journey and I just hope I can make it back to Niobrara in time. It seems an awfully long way to go & a short time to get there. A gas stop in Rapid City and it’s off to Interior, SD. The Badlands. My plan is to finally get some food at the Cedar Pass Lodge. They make an awesome Indian Taco. I decide to take the scenic route and take the first Badlands exit which takes you through the longer part of the Badlands loop on highway 240. What are all these cars doing here?! Damn tourists! I finally make it to Interior, get my route sheet stamped with the National Parks stamp and head next door to the Cedar Pass Lodge. My wife Jenelle and I have stayed here several times on trips out west. The food is always good and the people are always nice. I am not disappointed and my waiter can tell I am in a hurry and gets my food to me quickly. I wolf down as much as I can while I add up my bonus points up to this spot. I have only got about five hours left in my 24-hour rally. No time for dilly-dallying. Whatever the hell that is. I gotta go! I go back to the town of Interior for fuel and head up the short Badlands loop to I-90. I can’t find my damn receipt for the Badlands State Park so I have to pony up another five dollars to ride the road again. A stupid mistake but at least the receipt is not rally related. My South Dakota map blows out of my tank bag and I am now riding map-less. Another stupid mistake, gotta be careful at the end of the rally. I know I will have to stop for fuel one more time before Chamberlain, SD so I stop in Belvidere, SD where I remember there is an Amoco station. I go inside to pay and ask if they have any maps. I know I will need one to get from Chamberlain to Niobrara. He hands me one of the free government maps and I head for Chamberlain. An easy gas stop in Chamberlain for my last bonus point and I’m heading home to Nebraska. About a hundred miles later I am coming up to the Chamberlain exit. I think it must be too easy to have the bonus points be fuel in Chamberlain so I think to myself the gas stations along the freeway must not be directly in the town of Chamberlain So I head into downtown and pull into a gas station. That is where I actually read the directions for the bonus in Chamberlain. It is at the rest area just east of town on I-90. I just hope it is on this side of I-90 or I will have to skip it. Oh well I had to get fuel anyway. As I pull into the rest stop there I see (the guy with the single Yamaha) getting ready to leave. We both couldn’t resist the easy on the freeway bonus stop. I get the correct answer to the question and hop back on the freeway into the home stretch.

No more bonus locations left, only the final road to Niobrara. I get off I-90 at U.S. highway 281 and head south. One last fuel stop in Armour, SD and I’ve got the bead on the finish line. I am down to less than one hour left. I think I am cutting it close, so at the town of Avon, SD I see a road on my map that shows it connecting with 37 directly south. If it works it will save me 15-20 miles. If not, it almost guarantees a DNF. I take the chance and head south on the un-marked road out of Avon. Luckily as I travel southward on this road I see signs for Kingsburg and Springfield. I know I am on the right road. With about 25 minutes left I see the spectacular bridge that crosses the Missouri River. Niobrara is about 5 miles up the road. I still don’t take it easy till I see the Two Rivers Saloon. I’ll push the damn bike from here is I have to. I pull in and Victor and Tammy Wanchena are quickly coming out to me to check me in.
Victor calls out the time and Tammy records my mileage. 20 minutes to spare. Cutting it a little close aren’t we? I head into a quiet table to double check my route sheets to make sure I have claimed all I can. Once your route sheet is turned in if you forgot to claim a bonus point it is too late, sorry Charlie. I get it straight and go to check out. Adam and Arlene are sitting at a laptop computer waiting for people like me. Adam says later that Arlene asked specific questions about at least one place for everyone that checked in. She truly has been everywhere. We go through my route sheet and possible bonus points one by one, receipt by receipt. No stone is left unturned as I am until I am declared finished.

Wow, what a weight off my shoulders. I go and get a beer from the bar and head to the phones to call my wife. I am pretty satisfied with my ride and think that if I finish in at least 10th place and go home with a plaque, I will be a happy camper indeed. I get my free meal compliments of TeamStrange at the Two Rivers. A 24 ounce T-Bone steak that is just incredible. I roll up to the campground and head for the tent and some seriously needed rest. When morning comes around I will see about riding the shortened poker run and find out how I did in the rally.

The next morning comes and I have slept too late for the poker run. Oh well, I shower and head to the Two Rivers. The award ceremony is to be held at high noon. I go to The Two Rivers and have the fabulous breakfast cheeseburger (no kidding) and await the ceremony. I am excited and hopeful that my score will hold up for maybe a top five finish in my class. The Rally is split into 3 classes. Touring, Sport/Standard, and Expert.{give teamstrange classification explanation} I have been designated as sport/standard as my bike has no fairing. As they read the number two name in my class I honestly think maybe I was mistaken and am in another class. Then Adam reads my name. I have won the Sport/Standard class of the 2002 Minnesota 1000. I can’t believe it.