Of Moose and Men

Did you ever finish something, only to feel some regret at the end that you should have done better? We’ve all been there. We’ve all gotten a “B” on our report card when inside we know that if we’d tried just a little harder, that elusive “A” would have been ours.

That was my feeling after “competing” in the TeamStrange 2002 Great Lakes Challenge; the big dogs finished in about 40 hours, and I limped in at 59:37. If you’re not aware of this ride, the goal is to circumnavigate all five Great Lakes in under 50 hours for the “Great Lakes Gold” award. Finishing in under 100 hours gives you a Great Lakes 100 award.

I was hoping that TeamStrange would sponsor a second Great Lakes Challenge (http://www.teamstrange.com/greatlakes.htm) for 2003 but it was not to be. Well, if you don’t see a rally, make your own. I announced plans for this ride on the forums and lists that I frequent, and set up a website to help organize it.

Lessons Learned

When you get a second chance, you have to apply the lessons learned from last time. Some of the mistakes made last year were:

Equipment - my gear was generally OK, but was not meant for 19 hours of rain at 38º F. My rainproof gloves were soaked.
Speeding – blind luck alone did not prevent me from getting a ticket in the middle of nowhere last year. I needed a better way to manage my velocity when the opportunity presented itself.
Food stops – there is no time on this ride to do anything at all but ride, sleep when necessary, and refuel. None. That means that you cannot stop by Denny’s for a sit-down meal.

For 5 months, other riders like Larry Cardo, Scott Brown, Curt Vaught, Peter Hughes and I interacted and traded notes on how we should tackle this beast. Peter talked me into adding CB to the bike, Larry talked me into a more realistic starting time, etc. This was a group collaboration.

Time dragged through a brutal winter, but before I knew it, May 23 was upon us. Time to lay it all on the line…

The Start

Larry, Scott and I were trying for the GL Gold ride; Curt was after the GL100. We met for breakfast and set our strategy, got our starting witness forms signed, fueled up, and we were off. We set a brisk pace on I-80 from our starting point of Elyria, OH towards Chicago. It was very important that we hit the Chicago window at or before our goal of 1130CDT so we were able to beat the expected “get outta town” rush out of Chicago for the holiday weekend. Scott and I quickly peeled off and pulled away from the others.

“Craig, this is Scott. Check your right blinker”

Damn that turn signal. I couldn’t see it with my dash shelf.

Scott blasting along I-80 in Ohio

I had never ridden extended distances with a CB and a radar detector before. I had no idea how useful they truly were in being able to anticipate speed traps and rolling enforcement locations. The many speed traps that we encountered on a holiday weekend we knew about miles in advance. Many of these didn’t show up on my Escort Solo 2 detector; they were using laser detection, so if you get a reading, it’s basically too late.

Using this knowledge, Scott and I were able to pull 15 minutes ahead of schedule at our first stop of Elkhart, IN. Larry pulled up, made a quit pit and rode off with us.

Author on I-80, early in the ride

Chicago

We went right through the belly of the beast and took the I-90 Skyway and the Dan Ryan Expressway through Chicago. We experienced some slow crawling traffic, but it kept moving and finally opened up when I-90 peeled off of I-294. We made our Oasis stop about 20 minutes ahead of schedule, and met a fellow forum lister there, Garrett Rinehart. It was fun seeing someone that you’d talked to online many times…..but my mind was starting to focus on a section of road coming up ahead that I somewhat dreaded – the Chicago to Eau Claire segment. 305 miles of slab and toll booths and RVs and campers with too few lanes.

ST1100 riders Garrett Rinehart and Scott Brown

Looking at my hands, I realized that I was getting the John Lennon syndrome….I have blisters on my fingers! I was holding the grips a wee bit too tight through the Chicago loop. 2100 miles to go, this is gonna hurt. It’s the little things that get you on a long ride.

Back out on I-90W, traffic gets to be very thick as more and more folks head out of town early for the weekend. At this point, I was doing about 75-80 mph in the left lane, following a tightly-packed group of traffic….with more breathing down my neck. I stole a look at the lane to my right, as I prepared to give myself some more space. YOW!!!! The guy in front of me had dropped anchor!!! I quickly grabbed a handful/footful of brake, and did sort of a mini-stoppie on the ST, with the rear tire sort of hopping from side to side. I didn’t make any conscious effort to modulate the rear, I was too busy trying to slow down. Thankfully, the driver ahead released his brakes and sped up….my rear tire squirmed once more, and spun up straight. Phew…..a quick look at Scott behind me confirmed that he was correctly positioned off to my side, and in no danger himself. Damn, my next bike’s gonna have ABS!

At one of the many toll booths north of Chicago, I lost track of Scott’s lane, and as I pulled over to look for him, I saw him instead blasting away in the distance. I would not see him again until Superior.

The Ton

Finally, Eau Claire. Larry was still with me at this point, so we gassed up, and he headed off early to go find a rest stop to nap at. I was looking forward to this stretch, as it’s relatively short at ~150 miles, and as I recall from last year, gave great sightlines way into the distance. So you could, y’know, kind of test out your throttle, eh?

I had never broken the 100mph barrier on this bike, yet another salvage titled orphan that was rescued from crashing into a tree in Colorado, 6’ off the ground. So at my first opportunity with some clearance behind and in front of me, I buried it…

85…..90…..95……car coming!!! Back off……

OK, clear again. 85…90….95…100!!!!

The final mark was 102.1 mph. OK, so it’s not Hyabusaesque, but it sure felt strong.

As I neared Superior, WI with Lake Superior looming on the horizon, I watched as the temperature dropped well over 10º F in the space of a couple of miles. The slabs were over for now….it was time to go up north.

You Down with OPP?

Yeah, you know me.

I briefly ran into Scott Brown in Superior, as he was leaving for the north shore. This was the last time I would see him on the ride. It was obvious that he was keeping a stronger pace than I was.

An uneventful yet beautiful ride up the north shore terminated at the Canadian border. It was now dark, and I pulled off prior to the crossing to ditch my radar detector.

I was all alone as I pulled up to the Canadian border patrol….the usual dialog began:

Border Guard: What….is your quest?!

Me: I seek the Grail! Uh, Thunder Bay tonight!

BG: What….is your favorite color?!

Me: Blue! No, green…..AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I snapped out of it in time to politely answer the usual set of inane questions about tobacco, gifts, alcohol, residence, and blood type before I was waved on.

I pulled into my hotel, and I was just preparing to sleep when I heard Larry pull up. We agreed on a launch time for the morning, and I set the Screaming Meanie.

WEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEoh

The dreaded meanie was off and running. I stumbled around after about 3 hours of sleep, suited up, ate an apple and we were off towards Nipigon.

Larry and I rode a few miles to where 17 east begins again……and again I heard it:

WEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEoh

The meanie had been turned on in my duffle bag. @#$%^&*() I stopped and shut it off, and on we went.

In the Cradle

After a quick and chilly ride up through Nipigon and gorgeous views of the bay, we ran into Brenda and Marcus Grundt in Marathon, ON. Larry and I fueled up and took off, with Brenda in the lead, and Marcus bringing up the rear. It was like riding in a cradle, with Brenda keeping a great pace and always the right line, and Marcus alternating between chatting with oncoming truckers for road reports, and giving us some local knowledge in his disc-jockey quality voice:

Marcus and Brenda Grundt at Marathon, waiting to escort

“You’ll notice if you look to your left, that even the trees on the ridge were burned in the fire. It was quite an extensive burn area. And Craig, you may want to check your right blinker”.

$%^&* blinker!

Brenda also pointed out some Moose that I would have never seen. Beautiful, huge brown buggers that are well-camouflaged.

We continued on in their care past Wawa, Chapleau, and on towards Iron Bridge. At that point, we had our first scare as Brenda leaned into a pea-gravel turn and low-sided, cartwheeling herself 3 times before coming to rest. The rest of us tried to avoid the same fate, then came to a stop to assist. Apart from being a little sore, and breaking a tip-over wing on her ST1100, she was only bruised in pride. An enormous relief for us….

Brenda dusting herself off after a gravel low-side

As I got back on my bike, I shortly heard a familiar sound again:

WEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEohWEEoh

I stopped AGAIN, pulled the offending Meanie from my bag and yanked the battery off and put it in my pocket. Now I know why so many of these devices get stomped to death.

We pulled into Iron Bridge to fuel up and bid farewell to our Most Excellent Hosts. We were still very close to being on schedule for the Great Lakes Gold award. We suspected, but we didn’t really know what the weather had in mind for us from that point on. Had we suspected the worst, we would have only been partially correct. It was THE worst….

Some High Quality H2O

I changed into my wet weather gear as it began to sprinkle east of Iron Bridge. The forecast had predicted rain through the rest of the ride. No big deal, I liked riding in rain and it was only ~ 50º F so it wasn’t that cold.

It began to really rain. Larry pulled up next to me prior to Sudbury: “I’m going to find a hotel and get some sleep! Good luck!” I wished him the same and rode on. That was the last I would see of Larry. After 1500 miles, I was now riding solo.

The rain became more intense the further east I went. After hitting North Bay, my goal was to hit Arnprior before sundown as I knew how tough 2-lane roads could be at night.

Tougher than I thought. The short, 150 mile ride between Arnprior and the US Border turned into my undoing. It was night, and the rain was an incredibly penetrating, driving one with very small droplets, coming down at the correct angle and temperature to fog my glasses, fog my shield, and make it feel like you were driving in the middle of a kaleidoscope when oncoming traffic drove at you. I had to slow to a crawl to make sure I was still in my lane.

Another Brick in the Wall

I hit the US border at around midnight. A few more questions this time, they actually wanted to see my ID, and then I was off. I had nine hours to clear the last 450 miles. Still very possible, as I was now on beloved 4 lane highways with no oncoming traffic! Home free!!!!!

I got my first tinge of The Wall near Watertown, NY. My eyes were having a difficult time focusing on a single object. They also began to flutter a little.

OK, Gas stop, jumping jacks, some water and move on. I can still do this!!!

Inner Conscience: Craig you need a nap.

And who can argue with their conscience? I found a rest stop shy of Syracuse, and folded up into a Budda position near the building. The sound of the rain made it easy to drift off.

Seemingly seconds later, I woke and was back on the road, feeling better. It didn’t last. By Seneca Falls, I was dopey again and napped on the same bench that I had grabbed some Z’s on during my Saddlesore 1000 ride. Another 30 minutes gone, didn’t really feel much better, and I realized that it was time to throw in the towel.

I had been up for 24 hours, the past 15 in driving rain, and everything was soaked, including all of my expensive precautionary riding gear that I had bought since last year’s lesson. I could not keep my eyes open and focused, and I was now a poster child for a single-vehicle accident. I found a hotel and quickly went lights out.

The Home Stretch

I awoke the next morning to brilliant sunshine and a rested brain. I navigated the remaining speed traps on I-90 and pulled in to find Scott waiting at the finishing point. He had finished in a monster 46+ hours, an awesome ride considering this was his first time around. We had some yuks about some common experiences on the ride, shared some notes, and then saddled up to ride home.

And wouldn’t you know it, on the ride home before Scott and I went our separate ways, I would hear once more:

“Craig, this is Scott. Check your right blinker.”

Epilogue

OK, so I should be proud that I finished 4 hours faster than last year, doing the ride in 55:30. That’s OK, I guess, but I didn’t hit my goal and that bugs me after all the months of preparation that I did. But I am proud to be able to write this from my desk, and not a hospital bed. I can continue to raise my kids and not be fed through a straw. Please keep that in mind if you’re reading this, and are interested in pursuing your own long-distance goals.

I’d like to thank Larry and Scott for being such great riding partners, as well as Brenda and Marcus for showing us the way. This experience is something I’ll keep with me forever.

Craig Severson

May 29, 2003