Leg Three
There are certain types of bonuses that I prefer. These are generally isolated or so incredibly obvious (a lightship for example) that they are easy to find. Even better is when there is parking available where I can hang my flag on the case for a quick stop; producing a wonderful points per minute figure along with a nice rush.
Somewhere much lower on the list are markers in parks or a cemetery. This can be a time sink but it is all part of the game; as in make one wrong turn while walking around and you might read 20 markers instead of 5. This was where I found myself shortly after leaving the checkpoint, in a public park looking for a bronze plaque. This was after my first bonus which I found with no problem, except when I went to insert my leg three memory card in my camera. When I turned the camera on it asked if I wanted to format the card. No, No and for the love of God No!, so I traded that request for a message indicating a “card error.” I powered off the camera, removed and reinserted the card, did a little itguy chant and turned the camera on.
Card Error.
I have to say that unlike the well discussed Old Faithful meltdown I remained remarkably calm.
I did one more itguy chant along with a second reboot and the card worked. This was good because while I am sure there was some way to deal with the issue and lose a bunch of points I had no idea what it was and I sure as hell didn’t want to call the Rallymaster to ask.
Earlier that morning I awoke feeling refreshed. Not quite full of piss and vinegar but awake, alert and excited to get going on the final leg. Before the rider’s meeting IBA President Mike Kneebone entered the room and requested that every rider who visited a specific bonus to form a single file line in the hall.
This is never good. It can mean there was a problem with the bonus. Each rider was going to have a meeting with the top guy and for some it could quickly turn into a really bad time, depending on the circumstances. This also delayed the release of the books. For the last 7 days I’d been making daylight bonuses by under 30 minutes so I commented to the folks at the table that we were losing time. Considering it was the longest leg of the rally I was doing this to poke a little fun more than anything else, after all the wait as the same for everyone plus I wasn’t one of the guys standing in the hall.
When Mike Kneebone entered the banquet room he was not happy. The issue at the bonus involved people trying to get a cog train to start early and when it did one rider apparently jumped off after getting his photo. So that’s what the game is coming to. Not only is it cheating but it’s really dumb. Perhaps it’s just rose colored glasses for the past but the thought of jumping off a train is completely alien to me or anyone I’ve ever seen in the rally. We did the rally for the thrill of it and the challenge of being a finisher. I could go on about how this was before fuel injection and computers, when men were men and distance was measured either by string or cigarette butts however this would imply that the modern technology somehow makes it easier. I imagine the 29 riders who did not finish would disagree, however it is different. Earlier riders had to combat fatigue, mechanical gremlins, crappy headlights and darker roads. Modern riders continue to combat fatigue (but they seem to lose more) and techno confusion brought on as the game has evolved. Yesterday’s game required the ability to adjust a carb to make it up Pikes Peak (which was dirt) whereas today one must be proficient in loading up a point and shoot GPS while processing a bonus list quickly. Jumping off trains and racing around car dealerships does us no good. Additionally if people start getting that competitive against each other then I fear the fun of the game will be harder to find. Part of the thrill of the rally is seeing another rider at a bonus and sharing a little “intel.” about what kind of evilness the rallymaster has in store for us. I hope that I never enter an event where we can’t say hello and have the rider on their way out give the rider on their way in a little tip on satisfying the requirements of the bonus.
People have asked me what we get for finishing. “A plaque” is my answer and when they ask what does the winner get I say “A bigger plaque.” I’d hate to be the guy who jumped off a train or tried to cheat for a bigger plaque.
I don’t remember exactly what time it was when we were told we could open our bonus packages for the third leg. Through the process of elimination I had a map file with all the bonuses that had not been used highlighted and had reviewed it before the meeting. This showed all the locations in British Columbia along with two in Alaska that were unreachable. I had told my wife before the checkpoint that I was definitely not going to Alaska but I really wanted to go to Vancouver and B.C. if I could make the points work.
At this point it became obvious to me that the rallymaster had made a terrible mistake. The problem with going north was that each bonus needed to be worth about 15% more. Not only was there no obvious play north but with daylight restrictions, ferry routes and sunsets at close to 10pm it was quite a puzzle. I loved it. I had banked some extra points on each leg and I took it on faith that if I found the magic string the northern route would not only be fun but I would easily get enough points to be a finisher.
The games in your head are one of the beauties of the Iron Butt Rally and one of the things the rallystaff does very well. Consider that you’re given a book with 50 or so locations spread over most of North America and you have as much time as you want to think about the many ways you can try to solve the traveling salesman’s problem, or how to get as many points utilizing the most efficient route possible. If this isn’t enough one can then think about the people who set up the rally. They wouldn’t put BC in unless it would work, would they?
This is classic leg three stuff. It looks like it should work, by all accounts it makes sense but by golly it sure does look like there are more points to be had on the “vanilla” route along the southern border.
I shrugged it off because I had already decided before seeing the book that I wanted to go north yet I was mildly disapointed that the points were not there. I felt the southern route would be easier in terms of collecting points but the heat could be tough. The big challenge with going north was what to do for the third day. If you went for maximum points you could find yourself having to ride close to 3000 miles in the last 48 hrs of the rally; one thing I was sure of is I didn’t want to have to finish the rally with a BBG (Bun Burner Gold / 1500 miles in 24hrs) as I did in 2005. I had to decide between trying to move up or ride where I wanted to go.
My magic number for this leg was 22,746. That was the number of points I would need to collect to reach 60,000 points which was what we were told would be the minimum number of points to be considered a finisher. I felt pretty confident I could continue to ride the way I’d been riding and come up with 23,000 points.
Between the minimum rest, the call in bonus and the tracking bonus I could count on 5920 points leaving me 16,826 necessary to be a finisher. These numbers probably would have been good to know while planning my leg.
I had my outline of a plan and set off. Little did I know that some of the top ten riders were also taking it on faith and also heading north, however they went to San Francisco first. While it worked out well for me, it didn’t work out well for folks who were paying attention to their results. Every rider in the top ten who went north dropped a spot or two. I dropped three, more on that later.
After finding the marker I started north. It was hot and I was starting to have serious doubts about my plan to ride north. The more I looked at it and the more I thought about it the more I realized the points just were not there. I also started to consider how much time ferries can take plus I didn’t have the schedules sorted out. I decided to pull over for gas (early) and try to make a decision. I decided to turn around. I was “only” 100 miles north of Sacramento and I was thinking it was better to admit a big mistake now than in five days.
Before I got one exit south I got cranky. One thing I planned on not doing was spinning in circles while trying to make a decision and here I was moving up and down the same stretch of highway.
I turned around again and went back to the same gas station. For the first time on the clock I looked at the internet. I also punched in a route into the Zumo and low and behold it showed me a ferry that was not shown on Street Atlas or the BC Ferry website.
The Zumo and me, we have a funny relationship. For navigation when compared to any previous generation of GPS, the Zumo comes up painfully short. As a point and shoot GPS it’s very good. I call mine the entertainment center as my primary use is for satellite radio, weather and the laugh that comes from watching it repeatedly state that that a four lane road with malls and stoplights will be faster than the interstate three blocks to the west.
This time the Zumo came through. I motored north, still a bit concerned that I hadn’t seen any signs of other riders. It was also very hot with temps indicated in the high 90’s. I was so happy to have my cooler. For the first time I decided I was going to carry a cooler on the rally and I am so happy I did. This was part of my casual approach and desire to be comfortable. There’s nothing like a cold shot of something other than water at a bonus or when getting gas. Being able to carry it on the bike encouraged me to stay hydrated and saved me a bunch of time and money. It was also set up so I could reach back and get a cold bottle of juice. I had a pair of climbers chalk bags on my tank bag to use as food and beverage holders. Intake on the left, garbage on the right.
Plus there’s nothing like a cold bottle of beer after a long day of riding.
I continued on thinking that at the very least I was going to be out of the heat soon. I just wasn’t mentally prepared for serious heat. I was getting tired and quite happy to be closing in on Mt. Shasta. It’s the first mountain with snow, which for an east coast guy is a visual treat. It’s also a point where the interstate rises enough so the air cools off, in this case as much as 20 degrees. I decided this would be an excellent spot for an afternoon nap so I pulled over, found some shaded grass and slept like a baby for 35 minutes.
In most motorcycling circles The Eisenhower Interstate System is referred to as “The Slab” which is short for Super Slab. It is not a term of endearment, however out west the slab can actually be quite enjoyable. The pavement is better, the scenery is incredible and often geological features will force the slab to be anything but straight, flat and boring.
It was in such a section of the slab that I encountered the Big Silver Mercedes.
I really don’t think I was going *that* fast and in reality I wasn’t but as I came up on this big Benz the driver was waving and fist pumping and gyrating all the hell over the place. I was amazed he wasn’t weaving all over the road but the Mercedes was tracking straight and true. He must have popped for the “autodrive” feature. I approach with almost extreme caution, the last thing I need is some homicidal one-percenter knocking me into a ravine when I realize he is waving at me to go faster. Then I notice the only blemish on the Big Silver Mercedes is an Iron Butt Rally plate frame.
Giving me the big thumbs up was none other the Bill Watt along with Maura Gatensby. Bill hails from Vancouver, is a wonderful guy and the architect of the Trains Planes and Automobiles theme; Both Bill and Maura are rally veterans and were helping out at the checkpoint. I think Bill was so happy to see me because it meant that at least one rider was going north.
We exchanged pleasantries and I motored on.
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| Bill you’ll always be number one in my book |
Speaking of Bill Watt, he spent close to six years setting up this rally and collected over 500 great locations for us to visit. As a rallymaster I can tell you that 500 bonuses is about 350 too many but the result was we got the best of the best. The effort that went into putting together this rally was impressive to say the least. A big reason why I was going north was because in addition to just wanting to I was counting on something special courtesy of Mr. Watt.
Finally I got to Oregon and headed west to the coast and the Columbia lightship which is now part of a museum near Astoria. I wasn’t going to make the other daylight bonuses that would take me through Seattle so I changed my plan to head to Port Angeles to get a room and await the first boat across to Victoria.
After bagging the photo of the lightship I ran into Paul Pelloquin at a gas station. We said hello and had a quick chat about our plans for the next 24 hours. I always enjoy meeting another rider and chatting about how it’s going, the weather or where we’re headed. In this case it was getting dark and we determined we were both planning on riding the same ferry in the morning so we decided to ride together to Port Angeles. In true rally fashion this led to our sharing a room.
I should have asked him if he snores.
The next morning we made the boat with plenty of time to spare and were joined by Greg and Pat Blewett on their Gold Wing and a gaggle of other riders on random sport bikes. I had a great nap on the ferry and I was able to get some 5 minute epoxy to address a small weep from my aux tank.
I was asked how I could possibly sleep so well on a ship with all the vibration and noise. I remarked that it was like going home; I love sleeping to the constant hum of a big diesel and no matter how sound asleep I am if the motors were to stop I always wake up. I thought about this while I was riding and figure it must have something to do with why I love the boxer twin so much and I find inline fours and sixes so bland.
We got off the fist boat with 45 minutes to get across Vancouver Island to the other boat while stopping to photograph a helicopter for almost 6,000 points. While it sounded close Mr. Watt didn’t disappoint and it was easy to do with a minimum of fuss. It was while waiting for the second boat that traveling with other riders who happen to be medical professionals came in very handy as my earbud came apart, leaving me with the cone stuck in my ear. I had the pliers and Greg had the skills to save the day. I wish I had a photo of him going at my ear with my muti-tool. We were also joined on the second boat by John Coons. It’s always good to have a top ten rider show up, it makes one feel wicked smart.
90 minutes after boarding we were off the boat and headed into downtown Vancouver to photograph another Big Boy Locomotive. My plan was to head to the Northeast the others were going south.
It would be difficult if not impossible for me to describe the day I had after leaving downtown. I took the TCH to Malawaka, then over to PH95 and down to Cranbrook for the night. The scenery is stunning in every direction, the roads follow the rivers and speeds are high. This was the money day of the rally and I had a ball.
For this rally the rest bonuses worked out very well for me. They would have a requirement to start anytime on a specific calendar day and if you started it before midnight you could include time to the next morning. Rather than define the amount of rest time we were given a point per minute value. To claim the bonus we were required to get a computer generated receipt with a time stamp to start the rest and another to end it, with the two receipts ideally coming from the same place, if not they can be a reasonable distance apart. I took advantage of this by getting a start receipt at as close to 00:00hrs, sleeping my planned amount and then getting another start receipt as close to but not after 23:59. Whichever rest turned out longer was the one I claimed. For leg three this meant I could claim either the five or so hours I was sharing a room with Paul or the close to six hours I got in Cranbrook. Over the first two days of the third leg I got 11hrs in bed and a 30 minute afternoon nap to boot. That should be good for a golden pillow award.
When we were on the boat we all broke out our various tablets and laptops to plan. The problem was points, time and mileage. We had plenty of time, not enough points and depending on how many points you wanted a big helping of mileage. I figured I’d motor east, see what I could get out of the Chicago string and then mop up low hanging fruit near the finish. While Paul and John were not going to Cranbrook because it was too far from other points I figured that if I went there I’d arrive just before midnight and get some sleep next to big points. I reasoned that no matter what direction I go I’ll be ready for my nap at midnight anyway, why not say in BC just a little longer and sleep near points was good enough for me.
I exited BC into Montana. Montana… What can I say other than Montana rocks. Speed limit signs full of bullet holes and “Reasonable and Prudent” still carries the day, especially off the interstate. There’s a special feeling of being alive when riding two lane blacktop with closing speeds of 180 or more with a dually towing a fifth wheel horse trailer. Yippie ki ya… I stayed off the slab, did my best to beat the heat and made great time east.
As I made my way east I started to get optimistic that I could run the string from Superior Wisconsin down to a cemetery in Chicago, with a swing by Sparta, Wisconsin and the Harley Davidson Museum in Milwaukee. The cemetery closed with locked gates at 5pm SHARP (emphasis from the rallybook) so it was a day with little slack, so little that when I went into a Subway sandwich shop at lunch I couldn’t wait in line. If I had I would not have run the string as I made it out of the cemetery with under 10 minutes to spare.
From there it was into downtown Chicago to photograph the sign indicating the beginning of Route 66. I wonder if the rallymaster knew about the street festival that closed 8 square blocks near the start of Rt. 66. Good times.
It is now close to 6pm, it’s hot and I’m in downtown Chicago with approximately 500 miles and 13 hours of rally left. If I’d been anywhere else I probably would have found a nice patch of grass and taken a good nap, instead I joined the hordes of commuters heading south and grabbed some more points in Dyer, Indiana.
In Dyer I stopped at a large gas station / convenience store, my favorite kind of place. I felt like my rally was complete, I had a good ride, a great time and all I needed to do was ride 430 miles in the next 12 or so hours so I relaxed a bit. I found myself talking to a bunch of men who claimed to be riders; I was a little put off on the number of guys coming over to comment, then I took a good look at my bike. It was a mess. Between the bugs and flies of British Columbia and the 20 miles of fresh chip seal in Montana my bike looked like hell. I hadn’t showered or attempted any meaningful hygiene since the checkpoint nor had I checked a mirror but I figured I probably didn’t look much better than the bike. I went down the street and other than at the second checkpoint ate my first meal at rest since the start of the rally. All in all I spent a little over an hour in Dyer.
Over the years the last 12 or 24hrs of the Iron Butt Rally have defined the top riders. From not getting a six pack of soda to mechanical failure 100 miles from the finish the last 12hrs of the rally is a great place to witness the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat. Often there are some easy bonus points to be found within a few hours of the hotel, often it will require riding past the hotel to get more points. Mid pack and the weak throw in the towel as soon as they can smell the barn, others like my friend the late Eddie James will ride right up to the last possible minute.
I had spent a lot of time in the rally thinking of Eddie and how in 2005 when we both realized how far we had to go to the finish we split tracks with me making it back with two hours to spare and Eddie coming in with about 10 minutes left and 2000 more points. I decided to give one more nod to Eddie. I’d go past the hotel and run down some points along the PA turnpike by visiting the rest stops and making a purchase.
But first I felt a little nap would be in order.
Nap completed I ran the turnpike and passed the hotel at about 1am. The rallymaster had mentioned they’d have the checkpoint open at 4 so it would be downright embarrassing to get there three hours before that so I started down the turnpike. Each rest stop represented 125 or 200 additional miles and I had seven hours before the penalty window. I thought I could get two or even three however to get the third I’d have to be able to use the employee lot which is connected to the local roads. This could save close to 120 miles. While you can’t drive from the employee lot to the pumps you could walk to the convenience store, or so I hoped but in this post 9/11, homeland security world the rest areas are surrounded by high fencing, barbed wire, video cameras and you need a swipe card to walk from the employee lot.
Ah nuts, time for another nap. For this nap for the first time in the rally I went for the quick and uncomfortable Iron Butt Motel style spot on a wrought iron bunch that was too short and too narrow. After about 10 minutes I said to myself “you’ve been relaxing and living to be comfortable for the entire rally, why change it up now for 200 more points and by the way who are you going to beat and does it matter?”
Indeed. So I got up and rode to the finish.
Next
The finish