Just over four weeks ago yesterday I started my fifth and final Iron Butt Rally. A test of endurance, strategy, planning and execution the Iron Butt Rally is an 11 day ride throughout all of the United States and Canada.
It proved to be a mistake for me to start the rally. I had concerns prior to the start that I just wasn’t ‘feeling it.” The game has changed, speeds are much higher and with more trucks and distracted drivers on our roadways the risks have increased as well. One trait most Iron Butt Rally riders share is a bit of a stubborn streak along with a high degree of self confidence to do difficult things and I suppose I’ve been known to fit this description. I charged ahead planning while counting on my fire to get lit when I got to the start. I ignored the feeling of “I want to do that” each time I saw information on what folks who identify as GS Giants were planning on doing in the Idaho hills and tried to focus on the rally.
I went ahead and prepped the bike for a big ride. That’s something I can still do as well as anyone. Loaded it into the Sprinter and headed to Minneapolis. IBR rule for maximum fuel is 11.5 gallons, my bike passed tech and was certified to carry 11.48. I breezed through the final registration / tech inspection process and was one of the first stamped ready to ride. That was pretty much the peak of my rally. I made all sorts of silly mistakes off the bike and wasn’t feeling very good about being on the bike. I maximized a rest bonus at 8 hrs only to stop for a nap 4 hours later. It felt like day 7 on the morning of day 3.
My fire was out.
This was very much a new and unexpected felling. One doesn’t get the nickname Gingerbomb or Ritalin Boy by displaying a lack of motivation and here I was completely unmotivated to complete something I used to get absolutely jacked up about. I had made a series of dumb mistakes and was concerned about what I’d need to do to turn it around. Ultimately it came down to risk management; I wasn’t ready to try to explain how I hurt myself pooching my fifth Iron Butt Rally should such an event occur. It is ironic that three weeks later I’d be happy riding my GS on high alpine passes with massive drops and zero margin for error.
One has to be motivated and focused to participate in high risk activities.
I loaded my bike in the Sprinter and punished myself by only leaving the drivers seat for fuel and bladder breaks; arriving home in about 42 hours.
NEXT: The Lost Sailor