Ken Lefler's Ride Report

The Minnesota 2000, or MN2K, what a concept. Ride your motorcycle for

two straight days searching the country side for obscure little

treasures like a city limits sign with no visible town in sight.

 

This was my third Minnesota Long Distance rally. The first year, 1998 I

went with the sole goal of riding 1000 miles in 24 hours. I really had

no desire to get bonus points or  worry about how I placed. I achieved

my goal. I rode 1002 miles and captured several bonus locations. My

paperwork was a little sketchy so several of my hard fought bonuses were

very unceremoniously tossed out. I’m not the type to get angry over

this. I have promoted over thirty bicycle races and understand that the

only viable course, when you get a large group of competitors together,

is to say the rules are the rules and all will comply. Year two, 1999, I

was ready to ride and vowed to keep clean and concise records. I was

still not concerned with my place. I just wanted to ride and I wanted to

ride West. Before I left for Minnesota that year I told myself I was

riding West so all I looked at were west bonuses. I got the rally pack,

and there it was, the Badlands loop. Near Sturgis and back in 24 hours.

If for nothing else to annoy the Harley riders at work. The plant is

littered with Harley Trash. The type of rider that their one trip out of

town is to Sturgis and it usually takes them a couple of days to make it

there. I achieved my goal, 1388 miles, several bonuses and all bonuses

achieved were credited. My paperwork was in perfect order. We call this

a learning curve.

 

 Year three, 2000, the MN2K, a small play on words yes but also two days

2000 miles. I went to Minneapolis with the goal of riding lots of miles.

I needed 2610 miles to get the Ray Benthal award for riding 5000 miles

in 4 Team Strange events. I had little concern for points and was dead

set on riding alone. What a difference a sleepless night can bring.

 

Lets go back a few hour. I rolled into Minneapolis Friday afternoon

about 3:00. I went about fifty yards away from Bobs Java Hut to see my

friend Jay. Jay works at a bicycle shop a couple of doors down from

Bobs. I needed to make sure my accommodations  for the evening were all

set. Jay lives two blocks from Bobs Java Hut. I then rode back South to

the MCSTOP for the odo verification check in. We were to check in, log

an odo reading, then head North to Warners Motorsports for the Liars

Banquet. After checking in and parking it was time to find old friends

and acquaintances. The banquet is always a good time. It is also where

we pick up our route sheets, or at least most of them.

 

I can sum up the very long prerally speeches by Eddie and Adam with two

statements.

#1 Do exactly what the route sheets say.

#2 Never ever cheat .

 

If you follow these two statements you will be fine. The speeches are

fun though. Lots of stories, lots of jokes, very funny and a pretty good

way to spend the evening.

 

The route sheets. What a sick bastard that Eddie James is. Adam says it

is not a science it is an art. It is a little of both. It is also the

product of a sick and twisted mind.

 

Three separate route sheets, A, B, and C. You can do anything on A at

any time. You then need to decide to do either B, or C. If you choose

door number B you  cannot do anything on C and vise versa. I immediately

dismissed B and went after C with my maps and highlighter pens. Red

flags shot up all over the place. 6 points for Angle Inlet as North as

you can get in the USA. Several location were time sensitive. Short

windows of opportunity to get the bonus. I knew in my heart that

Saturday morning would bring new twists. I told myself I would not let

those sick bastards at Team Strange shatter my dreams and aspirations.

 

Saturday morning after a short night of little sleep I packed up my

stuff and rode the two blocks to Bobs. I couldn’t get something out of

my mind. This was the Minnesota 2000 and Eddie James is the master of

the route sheet. The game as I see it is to try and figure out what is

in the sick and twisted mind of Eddie James. I know this scares most

people that know him, but that is the game. There are other rallies you

can go to and get lots of miles. Hell if I want to, and I do often, I

can go out and ride big miles without paying a entry fee. Since Eddie is

the master of the route sheet the goal at the MN2K should be centered

toward the route sheets.

 

I rolled into Bobs and got off the bike. A K100LT rolls in beside me. We

both remove our helmets and this forty something LD Rider with an

infectious smile says "Well where are you  going?" I said West. He

smiles and says the points don't add up East is where it's at. I told

him I thought Eddie would have some surprises to even that up today. I

knew he would have something. He spent 30 minute talking about layover

bonuses last night and none appeared on A, B, or C. Nels Gebben was this

smiling Ld rider and after 5 minutes of discussion he said ride with me,

come on lets go East and see what we can find. After adding up the

points I said I'm in Nels East it will be. We agreed on a couple of

thing. One, Nels was sitting on two tickets and number three was out of

the question. I have no tickets and I haven't had one since the early

eighties. I still can't get one for monetary reasons. I was doing this

on a shoestring as it was. Two, since I have no auxiliary fuel tank I

would decide when we stopped for fuel. At 200 mile I hit the reserve and

we start looking.

 

Our plan was a big loop around the Midwest  starting South then East.

All this was contingent on Eddie not screwing with it too bad with his

Saturday morning surprises.

 No real surprises for the East route. Many surprises for the West route

just as I suspected. Route sheet D had three layover bonuses and lots of

West route bonus ganging. If you do several locations in order you get

huge additional points. My little red flag for Angle Inlet was spot on.

There was one new bonus for the East route, 2600 points for breakfast

with a Beemer club North of Columbus, but only a 2 hour window to

achieve it. Nels plan was to be in Pickerington Ohio at 9:00AM for

opening time of the AMA museum, a 4000 point bonanza . I liked the plan.

 

 

Iowa City Iowa, my home was the first stop. Hawkeye Harley for a receipt

and a trinket for the rally master. I knew the route well. This small

point would make a big difference by the end of the rally. Nels and I

both needed to use the restroom but the place was thick with people. I

suggested we stop by my house, a mere two miles from here and on our way

out of town. My wife was very pleased to see us. She loves it when I do

that.

 

Burlington Iowa is my birth town, born and raised there. I have raced my

bicycle up Snake Alley more times then I care to remember. I know the

fastest route to the top of the alley from the freeway. While we were

there Mark Kiecker and Bart Bakker roll up. We all get the needed photo

and log the info. I told them I was born and raised in Burlington. They

wanted to know the fast way out of town. We all meet at the gas station

down the hill and discuss our routes. They were riding about the same

route as us with a little variation. Mark used his time at home to map

things out on his computer. I call this home field advantage. His

mapping program gave needed mileage and said whether it was all

possible. He had also picked up a couple of spots I had not even seen.

We agreed to ride and work together as a team, and what a team. I led us

out the old highway and back to 61 off to Hannibal Mo.

 

Hannibal was easy, right to the river and right to the statue for a

photo. Quick photo and we're off, not so quick speedy, your on a twenty

two year old bike with 125,000 mile on it something has to go wrong. No

starter, not wanting to disrupt the flow I push start it and we're off.

 Louisville Mo. And a gas receipt then off to Illinois. We found the

Kampville Illinois ferry with ease due to the many signs. We rode the

ferry across. Took the needed photos and logged the info. Nels did give

me a push on this stop. I knew I would never be able to get it going up

the steep ramp. It's good to have friends.

 

St. Louis was a little tougher. Getting in was not fun, but parking and

getting the photo was really rough. We rolled downtown in the middle of

their Fourth of July  hooha. We tried to ask a cop for directions on

where to park. He would have none of it. "Get those bikes out of here

now." Nels tried again to ask him where to park and he demanded to see

his ID. Then he told me to move the bike or go to jail. What ever

happened to protect and serve. It will be a cold day in hell before I

spend another dime in St. Louis. We turned around and pulled down the

street. We parked on the shoulder of the road with a good view of the

Arch and took photos in record time. We left the bikes running, logged

the info and off across the river to Illinois. At least I didn't need to

push start the beast this time.

 

For the first time in the rally we now have a bigger run to make. We

rode all the way across the state to the Indiana border. St.

Francisville toll bridge. Once there I renamed it the St. Francisville

TROLL bridge. The bonus required a photo of the city limits sign and a

receipt for toll across to Indiana. If the bridge was permanently closed

by the state, a photo of the closed sign would be required. That should

have been a clue. The bridge was indeed still open. There was

unfortunately no one to sell toll. Cars were traveling it at will. We

got to the booth, the light was on but no one around. We all searched

high and low for a closed sign but none was to be found. What to do? We

decide to cross, no small feat in itself, and see if there was a closed

sign on the Indiana side. The crossing was scary and really cool at the

same time. The bridge consisted of two sections of plank bridge. The

spans was reasonably long or at least it seemed that way at the time.

They were maybe 75 yards each. It looked to me like an old train bridge

converted for cars. Tracks removed and planks nailed down just for the

tire tracks. Mark and I were at the front, I was on the right track and

Mark on the left. This thing we were on was just wide enough for a car.

I'm pretty sure that if you owned a 1969 Dodge Imperial you would not

fit side to side. About a quarter of the way down we see a cat. He was

okay at first. He was running down the left side planks then for some

reason he decided he needed to go for the center. Bad idea for the cat.

He would run five feet then fall through. Climb back up and do it all

over again. Finally he sees the error of his ways and goes for the right

wheel planks then up on the railing. The railing was maybe a foot and a

half tall. I try to creep by as far left as I could but the wheel tracks

were only two foot wide. I make it by. Bart rolls up and almost gets by

but at the last minute the cat jumps for it. Sorry kitty. We find no

closed sign on the Indiana side. After much discussion we decide to take

a photo of the Indiana side sign proving we did indeed cross. We are

hopeful this will pass. It was a 24 window for the bonus.

 

The run across Indiana was pretty cool. I like riding at night. Cool,

less cars and Jimmy Buffett playing in my head. No I do not have a

stereo on the bike, he just always plays in my head. Something was

eating at Nels. It must have been bothering him for sometime. Marks plan

was to hit Nebraska Indiana, then be at Indianapolis speedway gift shop

for the 9:00AM opening. Nels knew in his heart we had to be in

Pickerington Ohio at 9:00AM for the AMA museum opening. Nels finally

couldn’t take it and made us all pull over. "Were biting off too much.

We have to be in Pickerington at 9:00AM." Then I remembered the Beemer

club breakfast north of Columbus. It was maybe forty miles from the

museum and easily obtainable before the 11:00AM cutoff, if we are at the

AMA at 9:00AM. 11:01 gets you nothing. 2600 points nearly the same as

Indy. Mark didn't have this info when he ran it all through the

computer. We all agreed this was a good plan. It put us closer to

Cleveland and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, earlier. It all made the

second leg of our trip more doable, with no real loss in points. Nels

was happy, we were on our way.

 

 Nebraska Indiana was the goal. We rode Indiana 50 across. It was a fun

road. Lots of forests, hills, and curves. I saw no large critters and no

bambies. Nels was at the front when we hit the Nebraska sign. We all saw

it but Nels. Mark flashed his light furiously but Nels was in yaya land.

We prepared for the photos knowing sooner or later he would look in his

mirrors and see nothing. It took a while but he returned. Photos of city

limit signs at night are an art. The signs are reflective so if you use

a flash it just reflects back and washes out the town name. No light and

the rally flag number disappears. Flashlight on the rally flag, and two

fingers over the flash and you have a photo to be proud of. By the end

we have this down to an art.

 

We hit the edge of Cincinnati then North to Columbus. Nels had been to

the museum on the Butt Lite so he knew the route in. We arrived at

twenty till 9:00AM perfect timing to get our logs in order and check out

the rest of the route. We waited for them to open got the needed photos

and out to get gas. We arrive at the beemer club stop at 10:00AM, sign

in and are quickly shuffled off to a waiting table. These people could

not have been nicer. They summons a waitress, drinks are brought in, and

a trip to the buffet. A round of restroom visits, then out to the lot to

bullshit about bikes people and riding for two days straight. Photos

were taken by the club members and rally fliers handed out. We sign out

at 10:34AM. We were over the required 30 minutes and a lot was

accomplished. I can't say enough, how nice everyone was. They had

traffic reports construction warnings and were just all around pleasant

to spend a half hour with. On our way out, after they got done laughing

at my push start method, they told us that there was a CART race going

on in Cleveland right by the Hall of Fame. We still head that direction.

Fifty miles up the road we stop at a rest area and discuss this. We

decide to  blow this one off and head to Marblehead light house.

 

 Marblehead Ohio is a tourist hell on the Fourth of July weekend. That

Eddie James is a sick bastard. We deal with it get the photo and get out

as fast as we can. This is the only time in the rally that I am not

happy.  We run for Ann Arbor Michigan. Then West to Hell Mi.

 Hell Michigan is in a beautiful part of the state. Narrow winding roads

everywhere. Unfortunately their road signs don't match the maps. Numbers

verse names. I ask the first motorcyclist I see where Hell is and he

says no problem, take Territorial to Darwin and your there. We get the

photo in the ultra cool devil cut out. In fact Mark and Bart like it so

much they get photos for the frig.

 

Our run to Summit Illinois was broken up by a trip to Kalamzoo for an

IBET photo and a near death car confrontation. Near Gary Indiana we were

riding in classic staggered formation. Mark at the front in the right

wheel track, Nels behind in the left. I was next in the right then Bart

in the left. A small car decides he can fit between Mark and Nels. He

misses Marks rear wheel by maybe a foot. Then forces Nels to the

shoulder. He then rams straight up beside Mark forcing him to the right

lane. I was furious and roll up beside with a few choice words on his

driving style. Bart was even madder, he waves me off so he can have his

go at it. I really think the driver feared for his life by the time we

were done.

 

El Famous Mexican restaurant for a receipt for a food item and a T-shirt

for Adam. I wasn't looking forward to downtown Chicago, at night, Fourth

of July weekend. We made it and found El Famous with ease. I was

starving by now so a giant burrito was in order. They had no T-shirts,

sorry Adam.

 

Now it was the run up the belly of the monster. I94 North through

downtown and on up to Milwaukee. Wow, if you really stop to think about

what you are doing you probably would not do it. Tiny little bikes

surrounded by tons of bike eating metal cages, running at warp speed.

Then trying to run four bikes through this. Bart and I discussed this at

length at a gas stop. The mentality it takes to put your hard case on a

cars front fender to act as the gate keeper for the other three bikes.

All said and done I dig it. Then came the lightning and the thunder and

the green skies. I'm sorry, I'm somewhat of a dinosaur. I ride a 1978

R80/7 with no tick modification, and I still wear leather. I need to

stop and put on my rain gear. I do this on the side of I94 in record

time. It may have been ten seconds after we continued that the rain hit.

Man did it rain. It rained hard, really hard. Then we hit the tolls.

What a sucky deal on a motorcycle. We all stop under an underpass to

shuffle money around and prepare for the tolls. There are only two, so

not a huge deal. While there, a guy named Otto rolls up. Mark knows him

as they are both on VFRs. After a brief discussion we all head back into

the storm. I really cant see a thing except the little reflectors on the

road and tail lights. We of course get separated at the tolls then

rejoin down the road. We are not so lucky on toll number two. Bart and I

are at the back and the others disappear in the rain. I'm getting close

to needing gas as well.

 

We rolled off on an exit that looked promising. Roads were blocked,

flooded out, lights were off except for emergency lights, and signs were

down. It looked like a tornado had come through just in front of us. No

gas here. We continue North into Milwaukee till things look better. We

got off in downtown Milwaukee and got gas. My worry now was push

starting my steed on the wet pavement. I just by chance tried the

starter and it leaps to life. I joked about it the night before that if

it rained I bet it would work again. I really think it just got hot

enough it boiled any sort of lube out and locked up. A little rain water

for lube and were off. I know as it dries out I will be pushing again,

but for now, someone is looking out for me. Still no sign of Mark and

Nels but I am sure we will see them again.

 

 Bart and I head North to Alaska, Alaska Wisconsin that is, for a

whopping 4000 points. I was sure I needed this to win. We could have

rolled around Illinois and Wisconsin for some easy points, but a run to

near Green Bay was epic. I needed epic right now. Alaska Wisconsin was a

sign. I saw no town, just a sign on a deserted highway. Bart and I got

our photo system ready. A quick look down the road and I could see two

bikes coming. The little yellow PIAAs were the tip. This was the rest of

our crew. They took a half hour nap and were ready to roll. I can't

describe the feeling I had, standing in the middle of this deserted

road, in the middle of no where, with three friends, having a "Polaroid

party" if you will. It will stick in my mind for a long time. This is

why I do this. That's all I could think of at the time. You tell other

people and they just look at you. Polaroid pictures of a sign in the

middle of the night in the middle of Wisconsin 46 hours into a

motorcycle rally is not fun. Well, it is.

 

I need gas in 100 miles. We are off down Wisconsin 29 for our final run

into the cities. As we gas up, the discussion starts. We all have

different goals. Bart needs a few more miles then just a run in, to get

his Ray Benthal award. He is going to make the run North to Moon Motors

to get that bonus. That should push him over the top and still easily

make it by noon. Mark and Nels think that someone else had to work

harder then us on this rally and every point would be needed just to

place. They wanted to make a steady run in and get at least a three hour

layover at Trackstars for the 900 points. We agreed that I should be

sitting okay in the touring class. I tell the team that I can't get a

ticket in Wisconsin. I just can't afford it. I really don't have the

mental state at this time to make a run in. They say a good LD trait is

to know when to get off the bike. Well I'm sure I will need to shut down

at least once more before town. We go our separate ways for the final

run in.

 

Somewhere near Wausau I am riding on autopilot, you know that state

where you are aware you are driving, but not much else. Well, when I put

it back in manual drive, I see a sign for Tomahawk, 6 miles. I'm thirty

miles North of Wausau the wrong direction. I pull up in front of the

sign and stare at it, then the map. Dumbass. Right then a sheriff car

pulls up beside me. "Hey are you all right" I tell him yes, just lost

but thanks. Here's the protect and serve we missed in St. Louis. We

parted, him North and me back South. I still have plenty of time to make

it but ate up any partial layover points I might have gotten.

 

 My ride in was pleasant and easy. I checked my paperwork twice, then

checked in to get scored. All was in perfect order. All points asked

for, awarded. 36896. I got my first hint that we had done something

special right away. While standing in a large group of riders a friend

asked me how I scored. I said 36896. I got a couple of "OH Man" and A

"Holy Shit". A couple hours later I heard us referred to as the group of

four.

 

 Bart got his miles and the Moon Motors bonus. Nels and Mark made it to

Minneapolis and a timed receipt with two minutes to spare for the full

layover bonus. I rode a few extra miles and got in safe and happy with

time to spare. Nels took the over all win. Nels and Mark tied on the

scoring, but Nels and I rode the shortest route to Iowa City. Mark and

Bart rode I35 to I80 a 60 mile difference. They award efficiency. Mark

gets first in Expert and Bart gets second a few hundred points below.

They both get the Ray Benthal award.  I get first in Touring. What a

team.

 

I tell people I do this for me and no one else. I don't need validation

from my peers. I would be a liar if I said that I didn't get goose bumps

when Eddie tells his little story about team work and some people

coming into their own on a longer event, and good route planning. Then

announcing my score and hearing the comments from my peers as I went to

receive my award. That is something else I will remember for a long

time.

 

 I learn something each time I do these events. The first year I learned

that it is fun to ride 1000 miles in 24 hours. Even if 700 miles of it

were in the rain. I also learned that paperwork counts. 1999 I learned

how to play the game a little better, how to map out a route and find

the bonuses. 2000 I learned a lot. Route planning is everything. We

never pushed hard. We were never out of control it just fell into our

hands like clockwork. I learned that riding with others could be a

blast. I learned that I can win.

 

I never dreamed that riding as a group could work out so well. I've

always rode alone. We worked as a team, each member adding something.

One guy was at that location two weeks ago. Another was here last year.

We watched each others back. "Hey the time is wrong on this gas

receipt." "Did you log that time and miles on your sheet." We kept each

other awake and we kept each other entertained. The bonds that are

formed when you all experience something like this together are lasting.

From a chance meeting on Saturday morning to a 52 hour marathon I found

three new friends. I will remember that forever. We really did have a

special ride.  

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