Chuck Banks' Ride ReportI
will start out with some info on my riding partner, Dean Cross, and myself. Dean
is the owner of Warner Powersports, and Hosts the pre-rally Liar’s Banquet. He
rides a Victory V92C, and it is motorcycle number 22 off the production line.
Dean and I rode last years MN1K together, and Dean finished third in the
Standard class, not bad for his first effort! I ride a 1999 Kawasaki Concours in
the Sport Touring class, and finished 7th last year. I have been in 3
preceding MN1K. Anyway,
onto the story! Shortly after the packets were handed out at the Liar’s
Banquet, Dean and I went into his office to plan our strategy. A little advice
for anyone else, DO NOT LET EDDIE BE NEARBY! He sat in with us, and every so
often would laugh his evil laugh. I think he was trying to throw us off, but I
took it for the deviousness that was meant, and did not pay any attention. Eddie
finally left us to our planning, and we came up with a route we both liked. It
was going to take us to the East, and looked like we had some fun in front of
us. Dean and I both agree on the idea that the rally should be fun, safe,
doable, and if we trophy, that’s icing on the cake. The
next morning at Bob’s Java Hut, Dean and I meet up, grab a cup of coffee, and
await the handing out of the final bonus sheets. Eddie and Adam make a couple of
short announcements, hand them out, and the fun begins. As we walk and read the
sheets, Dean and I both conclude that our original route plan has only been
enhanced. I said “Cool”, kiss and hug my wife goodbye, and we are off! Our
first stop is Reno, MN. I had just been through the weekend before, so I am in
the lead. We are on I-90, and Dean is getting low on fuel. We head to the
Houston, MN exit, but I knew that going south, it was a ways before any gas. A
sign at the exit said that gas was available 4 miles further east on the county
road that paralleled the interstate. We immediately ran into our first
“victim” of the 2k. It was a Yamaha Virago parked on the side of the road,
no rider in site. I recognized the bike from the start, so I knew he was part of
the event. When we arrived at the station, here was the rider, filling a small
gas can from the pump. He then hopped on the back of a friends Goldwing to get a
ride back to his Virago. Dean and I did not say much, we just made ourselves
busy getting gas, as we both thought, “ He could have been us.” After
filling our tanks, and obtaining the proper documentation on our gas
receipt-this station was out of the 50’s, the lady hand wrote our receipts, we
were on our way. Back
on the road, we proceed on to Reno, and get our required picture. From Reno, its
on to Pike’s Peak Scenic Overlook, then on to Iowa City to pick up something
from I-Hawk Harley-Davidson. No major events occur; other than until we reach
I-Hawk, we have not observed any other MN2K riders. At I-Hawk, we arrive just as
two other MN2K riders are packing up. We offer greetings and each group heads
on. From I-Hawk, we go on to Burlington, IA, in search of “Snake Alley”.
Once we arrive, we run into the two other riders we had run into back
at the Harley dealer. They are just starting to pack up, when one of them
mentions that they are on to Springfield, IL. Now, from what Dean and I
deciphered from the bonus sheets, there was no reason to go to Springfield. I
casually mention to the other riders that they may want to reread their bonus
sheets. They both frantically grab them, and their maps, and after a few
minutes, a low, growled, “SHIT” was uttered. Eddie’s ears are inflamed
once more, and the phrase “it’s more about reading comprehension” has
struck another rider/riders. They decide to head on to St. Louis
instead. After getting our picture, Dean and I load up and head towards
Illinois. We
ride on to pick up the Abraham Lincoln Memorial Bridge in Oglesby, IL. The bonus
sheet says to report what we find at mile marker 55. Mile marker 55 is in the
middle of the bridge, so Dean pulls over. There is only a 4ft. shoulder, so I am
freaking out a bit, well, o.k. Dean, a lot, as semis blow by at 70 mph. Dean
just wanted to be sure there was no hidden item to be seen, remember the phrase
“its more about reading comprehension”. This time, it was just the obvious,
the bridge. We turn around at the next exit and head on towards Norway, IL, and
the “plane crash”. At the dirt road entrance to a farm and/or business, the
owner has deposited a wrecked plane fuselage with a sign. The gist of the sign
is that the wrecked plane signifies the “crash” of the farm economy during
the 80’s. It was getting dark, so we had to experiment a bit with our Polaroid
cameras to get the proper elements in our pictures. After getting everything, we
took off, on to our next bonus stop. Our
next stop was El Famosa Burrito in Summit,IL. We found our way their, and pulled
in at about 11:00 p.m. A gentleman who was either the owner or manager greeted
us. He came up to our table, and the first thing he said was “Why so late?
Everyone else was here much earlier!” Dean and I shot a glance at each other,
and sat down. The owner/manager graciously took our order at the table-locals
had to go to the register to order and he left us to contemplate his greeting.
We dug out our bonus sheets and maps, and decided that the earlier riders must
have taken a different route than us, or were speeding! Adam, please
investigate. After downing the excellent giant burrito, especially tasty with
the green sauce, we went to the register to check out. We were to obtain a
receipt and a T-shirt, size dependant on our rider number. When I asked the
owner/manager about the T-shirts, he replies “Tell that guy (I think he means
Eddie), I have no stinking T-shirts”, or something to that effect. So I ask
what he does have, and it is a ridiculous looking denim hat-perfect gear for our
esteemed Rallymasters. Dean and I each buy one, and we are on our way. Our
plan now takes us around the bottom of the Chicago area, towards Indianapolis.
Dean and I decided to ride close to Indy, but far enough away to get a hotel
room. We stop in West Lafayette, IN. and grab a room. The woman at the check-in
desk was very friendly. She accepted our order for a wake up call in 3 hours
without batting an eye, and offered to keep an eye on our bikes. We each got
three hours of quality sleep time, a shower, and the necessary receipts for a
4-hour layover bonus. The receipts were extra tricky, and the kind lady at the
hotel front desk was very accommodating, as she signed off on them and made
extra copies. This daylight savings time thing throws all the receipts off. I
have concluded that although the United States is Y2K compliant, no one truly
knows what time it is. Dean and I take off, and arrive in Indy at 8:00 am. The
bonus stop is the Indianapolis Motor Speedway gift shop, and it does not open
until 9:00 am. We decide Denny’s for breakfast would be a good thing, so we
eat breakfast. Dean
and I arrive at the IMS (Indianapolis Motor Speedway) at 8:50, park our bikes,
and stroll on up to the entrance. We wait but a few minutes, and the door is
unlocked. Immediately to our right is the gift shop. I scan about for a proper
gift for our beloved Rallymasters, and settle on a “ Garfield does IMS”
coloring book. I feel that Eddie and Adam need something to keep them amused on
their upcoming long drive during the Buttlite! Dean grabbed his “gift” and
proper receipt, and I look at my receipt, and it says 9:00 am-perfect! We get
back to the bikes, and just as we are to get on, Kevin Wynn, another MN2K rider
comes pulling in. We talk for a couple of minutes, and it seems that El
Famosa’s giant burrito is not agreeing with Kevin. We offer condolences, and
head out to our next bonus stop, the AMA headquarters in Ohio. Dean
and I are taking the Interstate, and once we cross into Ohio, it becomes very
evident that Ohio takes delight in deriving income from speeders. So much so,
that they can afford to have more troopers per mile than any state I have ever
crossed. The only place that seems to be free of them is Columbus, OH,and that
must be because the traffic is the built in speed limiter. Anyway, we make it to
Pickerington, and the AMA museum. After taking the required picture for the
bonus, I determine that now would be a good time to tend to my neglected
hemorrhoids. I get back to the bikes, and now Dean is engaged in another one of
our frequent time wasters-talking about his Victory. I had not mentioned it
until now, but at almost every stop, people are talking with Dean about his
bike. The worst are the “old-timers” that feel compelled to tell us about
every long trip they made on their Harley or Indian. Since Dean is the largest
Victory dealer in the world, he is being very patient and kind to all, although
sometimes he is still talking as he puts his helmet on, starts the bike, and
prepares to go. Victory should be sponsoring him, as Dean is a truly gracious
representative. Well, we get going, on to our next bonus-Hell, MI. The
road to Hell is paved with more troopers, and stoplights, than we imagined. Now
I know why drivers from the east of the Mississippi are frustrated. Dean and I
move along, and we get into Michigan. What a change! The drivers are all moving
along at an accelerated clip, and change lanes in the blink of an eye. What
really impressed me was how good they were at it. The nice part for us was also
the total lack of any troopers, a welcome relief after Ohio. Just outside of Ann
Arbor, we take our leave of the interstate, and head towards Hell. As we are
getting closer, so are some storms. As the first of some rain comes down, we
stop and don our rain gear. This must have been some kind of magic charm, for
it stopped raining. We found the general store in Hell, and took our required
picture in the cutout poster board in front. Another bonus stop completed. Up
to this point, Dean and I have had a smooth ride-no breakdowns, no running out
of gas, no overlooked bonus stops. We had pretty much kept on our schedule, and
now we were headed home. Off to our right, we were getting a very pretty light
show from Mother Nature, but it was not moving in on us. I did get worried, and
then committed a sin that we would pay for later. I prayed to the gods of long
distance riders-Mr. Higdon and Kneebone, to keep us safe. What a fool I was, and
now I know better!. We were approaching Chicago, and Dean was running low on
gas, but instead of pulling over, I kept on until we hit the tollroads. I did
not realize that gas would be so hard to find off of a tollroad. Dean was
getting real low, and we got on the Dan Ryan expressway. It took us into
Chicago, and we finally found an exit that offered fuel. Now it got real
interesting. Gas was over two dollars a gallon, and Dean picked the station with
the lowest price. As we came in, I noticed that we were not of the right ethnic
persuasion for the neighborhood, and the locals were noticing us pulling up on
our shiny new motorcycles. The station was a prepay, and I said to Dean that it
might be wise to just get five dollars worth and get out. As we were pumping
gas, the locals began to congregate around, and I did not think they wanted to
hear Dean’s Victory sales pitch. Mostly, they were panhandling, and I gladly
handed out a dollar bill, started my bike, and headed towards the exit. Dean did
likewise, and as we got back on the expressway, it started to rain. The
gods-Higdon and Kneebone, decided that if I was foolish enough to pray to them,
that now the real test would begin. As the rain started to get harder, we
noticed that traffic was beginning to get heavier. Chicago has a large event
called “The Taste of Chicago” that happens down by the lakeshore, and due to
the rain, everyone was leaving. So, Dean and I are stuck in rush hour like
traffic, going 40 mph, through three to four inch deep water, hitting puddles
that are a foot to a foot and a half deep, through downtown Chicago. After a
while, we see another bike under an overpass, and we stop. The guy was on his
way to Milwaukee from Michigan, and he did not have any type of raingear. After
chatting for a while, and hoping it would let up, it didn’t, Dean and I get
back on and head out of Chicago. We keep plodding along, and eventually make it
to the outskirts of Chicago. We make the decision to stop and grab a room in
Elgin. I think we passed the test, but I am too tired to think about it anymore.
This little “test” has eaten away any extra time we had to get another big
bonus, and we also have to cut the layover down to a three hour one, costing us
200 bonus points, and an hour of sleep. We
get up after our three-hour layover, and discuss our options. We are tempted to
try and get Alaska, WI, but after looking at the time and roads we would have to
work with, we decide to head towards home. Shortly
after leaving Elgin, we come to the final tollbooth. As we head through, I am a
little behind Dean, and notice a trooper closing in on Dean. I flash my high
beam, but Dean does not notice, and proceeds to, ahem, accelerate briskly, away.
The trooper falls in behind him, and just flashes his lights as we cross into
Wisconsin. Saved by the border! We both are feeling a little giddy, and are
moving along, when I see a bike approaching from behind. Adam, please do not
investigate! It turns out to be Glen Novotny on his Wing, and he waves as he
passes. I did not know until later that he put on 3500 miles, but I do
understand how he did it! It
is about 7:00 am, and we pull off the interstate to pick up a bonus at Baraboo,
WI. It is not really very warm, and a cup of coffee tastes really good, and
feels even better going down. I throw on an extra layer, and I am feeling
invigorated as we head into Baraboo to take our city limit sign picture. Some
locals go by, and I can tell that they are curious to know what we are doing,
but do not have the courage to stop and ask. After pictures are completed, we
head out, and pick up the interstate again for our final blast into Minneapolis. At
our last gas stop, we calculate distance and time, and two things become
apparent. We have not gone far enough to get 2000 miles, and 30 miles out of
Minneapolis is a bonus stop worth going for. Dean calculates that were not short
by much, and that as we head towards the extra bonus, if time becomes an issue,
he will exit and head back to Minneapolis. Well, things turned out well for us,
we made Monticello by 11:00 am, get our pictures taken with an employee of Moon
Motors, and head back into Minneapolis. On our way in, just out of Monticello,
Dean indicates he has surpassed the 2K mark, so we high five each other and head
to the finish. Dean
and I pull in a few minutes before noon-no loss of points for us. Eddie greets
us, determines we have ridden enough miles, and presents us with our 2K pins. A
hard won pin it is. We park our bikes, and then begin the process of scoring
ourselves. A final check, and here it is-2068 miles, 26,367 points. Dean takes a
fourth in the Standard class, and I take third in the Sport Touring class. Dean
is a bit disappointed, having placed third last year, but I am elated getting a
trophy. It was a tremendous amount of fun, and we both got what we initially wanted, a safe, fun ride, and if we placed, it’s icing on the cake. Thanks to Eddie, Adam, Team Strange, the scoring volunteers, the other volunteers, sponsors, and especially to Dean. I could not have done this without any of them, but Dean’s friendship made the ride a pleasurable experience. We were able to feed off each other enthusiasm, and corrected a couple of each others mistakes. It made the whole ride easier, and safer, than doing it by myself, and for that I am grateful. |
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