I had been riding for a couple of months when I stumbled on live coverage of the Iron Butt Rally, being held in Alabama and forty nine other states. I was absolutely stunned.....eleven days, 11,000 miles? Holy smokes! And where was I? Sitting squarely upon my arse, doing hi-techie stuff in Dublin, Ohio.
I want to be out there. What's a guy to do?
Make up your own ride.
I decided that at my next opportunity, (aka "business trip") I would take the LONG way home and earn my IBA "Saddlesore 1000" certification. It didn't take long. As soon as the nation....and I....recovered from the Sept. 11 disaster, it was back to business as usual. One of my customers had requested a training session in Philadelphia, which was about 450 miles from my house. Hmmmmm....if I take the LONG way back.....
So the plan was set....I would do the training session on Wednesday, stay in a local hotel that night, then leave early in the morning and target home by late that night. I found a 1000+ mile route that left Philly, headed north to Syracuse, along I-90 to Buffalo/Cleveland/Toledo, then south on I-75 to Cincinnati, then north on I-71 back to my house near Columbus. My mount of choice would be my newly-acquired Honda Pacific Coast PC800.
The day before the ride went smoothly and my day was over by 5pm. I went back to the hotel, ate a quick dinner, and went to bed early.
The alarm at 0200am came too quickly. I threw on my gear, packed up my bike, and headed to the hotel's front desk to get the starting witness signature.
"Uh, can I help you?" the clerk asked with a wavering voice. I looked like a bit of a storm trooper with all of the gear and pants and boots on. I explained my purpose and got her to pose with me for my starting shot:
Notice the "please don't hurt me" expression on her face. Big, bald, bespectacled folks can be dangerous!
I had read the IBA's "Archive of Wisdom" the month before the ride, and one of the things that they advised was to install an electric vest. Good thing I did....my ride up I-81 through the Pennsylvania mountains reached 38 deg. F at times, so I was all toasty under my vest and balaclava and winter gloves and all. The first few hundred miles flew by in the darkness and limited traffic.
As I got up to Syracuse, hunger set it so McDonald's called at the first turnpike plaza, coincidentally a good place to get a gas receipt since it was at a "corner" of the ride. 250 miles down, 750 to go and I felt good.
By the time I hit the Seneca plaza a few miles west, I was getting sleepy. I laid down on a park bench outside of the plaza building and I was gone. I woke up a short time later, never really knowing how long I was out. Regardless, I felt much better and was ready to go again.
The miles flew by until I got near Toledo. Rain was predicted by 4pm, and there it was, bang on time. I pulled underneath a bridge overpass and pulled out my rain jacket.....and then cursed the Gods of Belstaff which had delivered a faulty zipper which would not zip. I rode on through some VERY heavy rain.
About this time, my new-found friend "butt burn" showed up. I had put on about 600 miles and I was starting to stand up and stretch my hamstrings about every 15 minutes. My neck was also getting sore from holding up a helmet for the past 14 hours.
The remaining miles blurred together and the ride quickly wound down. I found myself taking longer and longer rest stops to ease the burn on the back of my legs. I also noticed that I was probably going to come in at right around 1000 miles instead of the 1020 that I'd calculated.....so I figured out a small loop to throw in near the end of the route, complete with gas stops to document the loop.
At around the 1000 mile point, I got my first real scare while I was executing "the loop". A traffic light turned yellow in front of me. It was the first light that I had seen all day. I had 300' to go to clear the intersection, and I was doing 50mph. Should I stop? Speed up? Which control stops me? Which hand? The next thing I knew, I rode right through a red light. I was frozen with indecision due to my fatigue and inexperience. Luckily, no other cross traffic was around at 10pm.....but I was lucky. It sure gave me a wake-up call to be more alert.
I rolled home shortly after that, after rolling 1010 miles in about 20 hours. I learned that equipment preparation was important, and that I had done well here....but that I was just barely up to the mental and physical challenge of 1000 miles in 24 hours. I learned that it can be very dangerous if you don't pay attention to your limits and capabilities.
All in a day's work.