As I said in the prologue to this report, be warned that
this will be a LONG ride report – just the kind that I like to read. For all of you engineers out there, I’ll
include plenty of detailed numbers. For
everyone else, stream of consciousness prose.
WARNING: I am no expert or even very knowledgeable
about long distance motorcycle riding.
Keep googling and you will find lots of better stuff and far more
experienced riders. You might even find
some great ride reports. Like from my
new long distance motorcycling hero that I know only as “Brian from
Austin.” Check out this
one from the time he rode through 48 states in less than ten days. Awesome!
Anyhow, here goes nothing…
Monday morning - Charleston and Folly Beach, SC
I set my alarm for 4:30 AM.
Time zones require math and therefore freak me out so I figured an east
coast early start is no big deal.
Besides, I had a few things to do before I would feel good about leaving
for two days on the bike and I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t rushed and had
plenty of time. It would be about a 20
minute ride to the start.
Once again I loaded up the stuff that I had along,
especially the personal care items that mattered to me – a Monster/ice water
cocktail in my Camelbak, apples, protein bars, and sunflower seeds, all in my
tank bag. The ride to Folly Beach and
the gas station was a piece of cake. I made special note of the turn that I had
missed the day before by turning too quickly.
I got to the station a little earlier than I thought. I was aiming at a 6:00 AM start. A nice round number. A easy marker for my entire trip. But I was early. I was also eager so I got my gas a little
early and the trip officially started off at 5:47 AM EST. My bike odometer read
66102. (Please realize that a motorcycle odometer is like a reasonably good
guess at distance traveled. The GPS
keeps track far more accurately. But the
50CC riding log rules asks for mileage on the bike so I’m going to use my
bike’s odometer readings for the rest of this report.)
It is really
important to say that a 50CC is a challenge but it is certainly NOT a
race. The Iron Butt Association wants
nothing to do with speed demons or unsafe motorcycle riding! Neither do I. The challenging rides can all be done with
planning, persistence, and determination.
As you read in the prologue, I hadn’t done much planning but I had
plenty of determination. (They also
don’t tell you that you need plenty of money to do this stuff. I’m a little short on that so this was going
to be a budget 50CC.)
 |
| Locked, Loaded, and Ready to leave Folly Beach, SC |
I headed from Folly Beach back toward Charleston to get on
I-26 toward Columbia. I paid special
attention once again to the turn I had missed during my practice run (by turning
too quickly)….so much attention that this time I missed it by not realizing that
I needed to turn right where I was supposed to turn right. I rode right past it. So much for paying attention. There wasn’t much traffic at that time during
the day so I made a quick U-turn and smiled at the irony that I had already
messed up what was going to become a very long ride.
I-26 was a nice ride.
Speed limits seemed like nice suggestions to the drivers around me so I
just paid attention to what I was doing and tried not to be a problem to anyone
else. I like ride reports mainly for the
narrative rather than the pictures which is great since I didn’t take much time
to take any pictures on this trip.
Navigation wasn’t going to be much of a problem either. I-26 to I-20 to I-10 to I-8 isn’t all that complicated. I just sat back and enjoyed the scenery. I also let my mind wander wherever it chose
to go. As usual, when I’m riding through
this part of the country I find myself thinking a lot about the Civil War and
the on-going battle for civil rights.
Or, as I prefer to think about it, creating a world where people see and
treat one another from the same perspective as the God who made them all.
My plan called for 14 fuel stops, each at +/- 180
miles. You’ll notice that I got pretty
close to that throughout the ride. That
just made sense to me. It would minimize
stress and keep my record of never running out of gas intact.
Gas Stop – Graniteville, SC – 8:21 AM EST – 192 miles – 02:34 hr/min total time
I was already appreciating my choice of crossing via I-20
vs. I-10. I knew it would add a couple
of hundred miles to the distance but it was worth it. The views were beautiful. I’m always amazed at how many trees there are
in the southeast.
Gas Stop – Villa Rica, GA – 11:04 AM EST – 182 miles – 05:17 hr/min total time
At this point, the ride was going great. The bike was running like a sewing
machine. I was comfortable and just
chewing up the miles. My gas stops were like
clockwork. I was sticking to my routine
and I hadn’t made any more mistakes.
I don’t know what I expect to see when I pass through places
like Alabama and Mississippi but I’m always surprised at their beauty…and I’m
equally surprised by the thoughts that I think.
I’m not really a NASCAR fan but I know that I’m riding through serious
NASCAR territory. I-20 passes right by
the Talladega Speedway. Too cool.
The one averted tragedy of this leg happened as I was
tooling through Birmingham. My mind was
dancing around all of the stories I remembered about this city. The traffic was flying through town. All of a sudden, the car in front of me
swerved to the left and ran over what I assume to be someone’s drive shaft
which was laying in the middle of the center lane of the freeway.
Those are among the many moments you hate to have when you
are on a motorcycle. Fortunately, I
remembered two very important lessons.
First, don’t look AT the obstacle that just appeared in your path, look
at the ESCAPE ROUTE you can see around it.
And second, put forward pressure on the side of the handlebars where you
want to go. Just that quick, those
thoughts came into my mind as I did exactly that. And I just about completely missed it…I
winced as I felt my front tire just barely touch it.
I waited for the sickening feeling of losing air in your
front tire to happen…but it didn’t.
“Thank you God” crossed my mind as I flew on down the road.
Gas Stop – Fosters, AL – 12:44 PM CST – 184 miles – 07:57 hr/min total time
On into Mississippi.
It was fun to spell that state when I was a kid. I thought I was something once I learned
it. I was listening exclusively to
country western music on the trip as that was all I had on my iPod and I didn’t
take time to create any special playlists.
I kept thinking about Johnny and June singing about Jackson.
Gas Stop – Clinton, MS – 3:23 PM CST – 185 miles – 10:36 hr/min total time
Traffic was steady all along I-20 but it wasn’t anything
like I-10. I’ve been down this road
before but not often so it all felt new to me.
I was excited about getting back into Louisiana because it was that much
closer to Texas. Most of the time it
just felt like I was riding through a green tunnel of trees. I kept my speed to the limit +4 so I wasn’t
feeling the stress of looking for LEO’s (that’s law enforcement officers.) The ride was going good.
Gas Stop – Minden, LA – 5:58 PM CST – 181 miles – 13:11 hr/min total time
I finally crossed over the Texas state line. As I expected, the highway instantly
improved. Texas sure does value its
roadways! I was starting to get a little
tired at this point, just riding steady for over 13 hours will do that to
you. But getting back to Texas felt
good. For awhile. Longview, TX, was one of my time
checkpoints. As you can see, my goal was
to get there by 9:45 PM. I killed that.
But then it occurred to me how much farther I had to go. Yikes!
I stopped for gas just before heading through the Dallas
metroplex. Since it was getting dark and
I had a long way to go, I decided to replenish my Monster/Water cocktail. Before the trip started I had purchased four
cans of Monster, thinking that I would drink two each day of the ride. I opened my top case and reached for my
second can of the day. My heart dropped
as I felt how light it was and realized that it had exploded somewhere along
the way. Everything in my top case was
covered with the sticky remains of 16 oz. of sugary energy drink! YUCK!
But I didn’t have time to do anything about it so I just grabbed the
next can and headed into the gas station for more ice.
Gas Stop – Terrell, TX – 8:28 PM CST – 186 miles – 15:41 hr/min total time
A person’s mind is a fascinating thing. On a challenging ride like this one you have
to be prepared for your mind to play tricks on you. For me, passing through the Dallas metroplex
was hard. The traffic was heavy and just
confusing enough. The rules say that
trucks aren’t allowed in the left lane but that doesn’t stop Mr. Dually Pickup
with his 20 mule team horse trailer from flying down the fast lane at 57
mph. I saw the signs for I-45 south to
Houston and gave brief consideration to all the time and money I would save if
I just turned and headed home.
But I don’t quit so I just focused on avoiding all the cars
and trucks around me and looked forward to what I hoped would be a quiet
highway on the other side of Fort Worth.
Gas Stop – Baird, TX – 11:44 PM CST – 201 miles – 18:57 hr/min total time
And Tuesday morning came at some point along the way...
I stopped at a Love’s truck stop in Baird, TX for gas. The
rules of the 50CC are very specific. You
need a gas receipt at every stop that clearly states the time, the date, and
the location of the place where you get gas.
This didn’t happen at this stop.
For some reason, this particular station only chose to list the Love’s
station number. So I went in and asked
the clerk if she had a location business card with their address on it. Of course they didn’t have that. It was nearly midnight. I was clearly tired after 19 hours on the
road and I didn’t have time to go hunting for another option so I took the
receipt as it was and will later hope for mercy from the Iron Butt ride proof
texters.
I was a bit disappointed in that I had always heard about
how desolate it was around Midland and Odessa, TX, but I have never seen it in
the daylight. Kenny and I rode out that
way on our SS1000 ride but we turned off I-20 at Big Spring and never got as
far as Midland. Here I was in the
territory yet again but I couldn’t see anything beyond my own lights.
The deserted road I was hoping for – like my nighttime ride
through Florida just two days before - didn’t happen. If I wasn’t coming up on yet another 18
wheeler I was being passed like I was standing still by somebody in a service
truck. It was dark out and I was
seriously wishing I had auxiliary lights instead of just improved lights.
Then I hit road construction. I slowed down far enough to
clearly feel in control which worked for me but not so much for the 18 wheelers
that were now regularly passing me. So,
with deep gratitude, I approached Odessa and then tragedy struck again.
I missed the first exit which promised a gas station but I
figured I would be OK. I had been on
reserve for awhile and I didn’t want to push my luck too far so I took the
“Grandview” exit. The first two gas
stations I came to were closed so I stopped and punched “Fuel” into the GPS and
followed it to a Stripes gas station.
Surely that would be open! But it
wasn’t. The pumps were lit up but the
store was closed.
So I decided to try the pumps anyway. They worked!
I filled my tank and, when I was done, pushed the button to get a
receipt. It said “Printing your receipt”
and then it said “Receipt below” but the pump was obviously out of paper
because no receipt appeared.
This is disaster on a cert ride. Gas receipts are everything! So once again, for the second time in Texas,
I knew I would be falling at the mercy of the proof texters. I took a picture of the gas pump and then
made my way back to i-20.
But, of course, with the road construction there was no
longer a working on ramp to I-20. Instead
I was directed to another road on the wrong side of the highway. I followed that for a mile or two when I came
across another Love’s station next to a highway on ramp. I stopped at Love’s to buy a bottle of
water…just to prove that I had been in town, and off I headed west into the
darkness. I sure hate to think that my ride won't be approved because someone forgot to fill the receipt paper before closing time. (Or that I forgot that I could splashed a little more gas in at the Love's.)
Gas Stop – Odessa, TX – 2:56 AM CST – 198 miles – 22:09
hr/min total time
Gratefully I left Odessa in my rearview mirror and then,
less than 10 miles out of town, it started raining! Raining in desert West Texas! I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t enough to
make me drag out my rain gear but it was enough to make me start looking for a
place to rest.
Rest Stop – Ward County Rest Area – 4:00 AM to 5:51 AM CST
I got to the Ward County Rest Area and, tired though I was
after nearly 24 hours of straight riding, my crazy mind questioned my rationale
for stopping. I actually missed the road
into the rest area because I was second guessing myself. THAT was a serious warning sign to me so I
went IN the OUT door and found a place to park.
What happened next is affectionately referred to as sleeping
in the “Iron Butt hotel.” I do this at
least once on every long ride and actually I like to do it. It feels adventurous to me. And it is the one
way in my life that I ever can feel some sense of solidarity with homeless
people. I lock up my bike, take my tank
bag with me as a pillow, find a picnic table, lay down on the ground next to
it, and fall asleep. I set the alarm on
my phone to sleep for an hour and did exactly that.
An hour later I woke up feeling pretty good. I started getting ready to get back on the
bike when I realized my cell phone was down to 4% of battery left. That was not going to be a good thing. But luckily, I had a 12 volt charging thing
in my top case into which I had already plugged my USB phone charging
cable. I plugged my phone in and
listened for the little tone that would tell me that it was charging. No tone.
I pulled out the USB thing only to realize that a good deal of my
exploded Monster drink had made its way into there and my charger was no longer
an operational component of my motorcycle.
So I resorted to plan B.
I got out my wall charger and headed to the rest room. I found a place to charge my phone and laid
down on the floor for another 30 minutes of rest. Afterwards, feeling as recharged as my phone,
I headed back to the bike and back on down the road.
With some degree of accomplishment mixed with relief, I got
to the intersection of I-20 and I-10 and finally felt like I was really heading
west.
Dear old Texas was not very kind to me on this trip!
Gas Stop – Van Horn, TX – 7:23 AM – 167 miles – 26:36 hr/min total time
While I knew that leaving early would help me make it
through Atlanta after rush hour I also knew that I would pay the price later on
down the road. I did pay that price as I
rolled into the morning rush hour in El Paso.
That might not have been so bad but they are replacing a major bridge on
the interstate so all traffic got diverted off the main lanes. Which was a major pain.
On I rolled through El Paso, ever mindful that Mexico was
just off to my left, the powers that be long ago having made the arbitrary
decision that the Rio Grande would not be just a river but a border. The children who are born on both sides have
no say in the matter but what a difference a few yards do make.
As the sun continued to rise, so did the temperature. I had put my leather jacket on to sleep at
the rest area and I kept it on through El Paso but I was already looking forward
to taking it off at the next gas stop.
The west Texas winds were helping me so I rode a few extra miles before
my stop in New Mexico.
Gas Stop – Akela Flats, NM – 9:17 AM MST – 206 miles – 29:30 hr/min total time
I really love riding through the desert. Those are the scenes, those initial ride
scenes, that always stick with me from “Easy Rider.” It helps me appreciate how nice it was for
those two bikers to come across the crew that invited them for a swim. Little did I know just how much I would want
that same swim in just a couple more hours.
Not long after passing into Arizona you come to a place that
says “Texas Canyon.” It is one of my
favorite places along I-10. It feels
like the land of the Flintstones with the huge boulders and rock formations. If I wasn’t in such a hurry, I would have
taken pictures. So I took lots of mental
snapshots and rolled on through.
I stopped for gas in Benson not realizing that I was going to see what I was going to see. The guy who pulled into the gas pump right behind me had done what I believe to be the most creative packing the truck job I have ever seen. Just get a load of this guy's load!
Gas Stop – Benson, AZ – 11:17 AM PST – 198 miles – 32:30
hr/min total time
After Tucson, but before Phoenix, I headed off on I-8. At first, that feels like the road that time
forgot, especially if you are heading west.
A two lane ribbon of asphalt covered with tar streaks, it feels like the
road used to be important until everybody forgot it was there. And man did it
start to get hot! HOT kind of hot! I don’t care if you call it a dry heat or
what you call it but all I know is that the only way to experience it would be to
preheat your oven at home to 400 degrees, wait 30 minutes, and then just crawl in.
Here is where the cooling vest is really a safety
requirement. Once I got to Gila Bend I
went into the bathroom and soaked my shirt and vest in water. I put on full fingered gloves, the thin
liners you wear inside your winter gloves.
I reapplied my sunscreen and I thanked God for my modular full face
helmet. Then I just hunkered down and
took the best that the desert could throw my way.
Gas Stop – Gila Bend, AZ – 1:55 PM PST – 166 miles – 35:08 hr/min total time
Notice, mind you, that I was riding through the desert in
the hottest part of the 115 degree day.
But yes, it was a dry heat. A blistering “you have got to be kidding
me!” kind of dry heat. And yes, like my
Mom always told me if I swallowed a marble, this too will pass. And it did.
At some point along the way you pass a sign that says “Agua
Caliente Road”. I remember seeing that and my fever blistered mind thought, “I
think that is Spanish for ‘No Shit Lane’!”
Then came California. Still more
desert and still more heat but one more step closer to the goal.
Gas Stop – El Centro, CA – 4:56 PM PST – 181 miles – 38:09 hr/min total time
I don’t know how to describe the final stages of I-8 over
the mountains of central California on into San Diego. I suppose the locals all take it for granted
but for me it was mile after mile of amusement park riding. Absolutely thrilling. You climb and climb and swoop down and
around. The cars around you are flying
so the best you can do is just keep up.
I rode hard, keeping my RPM’s up and letting my engine do the brake work as I flew with everybody else around the big swooping curves. The only bad thing was that, somewhere around
El Centro, I caught a bug in my right eye and I was having a little trouble
seeing. And yes, I was riding straight
into the quickly setting sun. But even
that couldn’t take away the thrill of that road. Loved it!
Then it was gravy time.
I had dialed the address for my target gas station into my GPS long
before getting to California. Ocean
Beach Shell, 4794 Voltaire, San Diego, CA.
It was an address I had noted a couple of years ago while reading someone
else’s ride report. I have no idea how I
got there. I just followed the
turns.
I also have no idea how anyone gets
anywhere around San Diego without a GPS!
I followed the turns, followed the signs as best as I could see them,
and the next thing you know, I pulled up at a nondescript gas pump at a corner
gas station and I had arrived!
Final Stop – Ocean Beach, San Diego, CA – 6:57 PM PST – 120 miles – 40:10 hr/min total time
I pumped my gas, got my receipt, logged my stop, and then
called Kelley to share the good news. It
felt a little weird to feel a sense of accomplishment after doing something as
foolish as riding across the United States just to know that you had done
it. But it felt good.
Kelley helped me figure out where I would be spending the
night and the next day. I wanted a Best
Western with a swimming pool and I got it.
But first, there was a little matter of collecting some sand and water
from the Pacific.
I got back onto Voltaire and followed it a few blocks down
to the parking lot next to the beach. I
rolled in and parked next to two women who were packing up to leave for the
day. I asked them for help – one to show
me how to get to the beach and the other to watch my stuff. I have no idea who they were but they were
very kind and I had my ocean in a bottle.
Then it was off to the hotel where I treated myself by ordering a
delivery pizza. I slept like the dead.
The Morning After
The rules of the 50CC require that you get a witness at both
the beginning and the end of the ride. The
first choice is a police officer. Or you
can ask for a local member of the Iron Butt Association to be your
witness. If you are able to do it during
business hours, you can ask the employees at the San Diego BMW motorcycle
shop. But the preferred choice is a
police officer.
I hated that. Police
officers are busy. I dreaded finding an
officer and asking for her time but I knew it had to be done. Since it didn’t have to be done immediately,
I decided to do it the morning after I arrived in San Diego. My plan was to ride back to the gas station,
plug “Police” into my GPS, and hope to find someone sitting behind a desk to
accommodate me. I texted Kelley and told
her that I was off to find a cop.
I pulled out of my motel onto the feeder road and, SERIOUSLY,
just two driveways down, a San Diego police car pulled out in front of me! I rode up beside him at the next stop sign
and asked him through his window for a few minutes of his time. The next thing you know, my witness form was
signed and my ride was officially over.
I spent a little time riding around San Diego. I stopped by the Harley shop where my bike
was serviced back when I was on the Four Corners tour. And then I went back to the motel to spend
the afternoon by the swimming pool, beginning to write down my ride report for
this blog and organizing my stuff to send into the IBA.
Thursday morning I slept in, took my sweet time getting
loaded up, and headed back to Texas. I
spent the night in Van Horn and rode on back to Houston on Friday. I got home about 8:45 PM, a few minutes past
one week since the thought occurred to me that maybe I could try and ride
across the United States in two days.
Mission accomplished.
If I have to explain it, then you just wouldn’t understand….
And for you engineers:
Total trip: 5306 miles
50CC: 2547 miles
Average speed on 50CC: 63.4 mph
Average gas mileage: 35 mpg
And for you engineers:
Total trip: 5306 miles
50CC: 2547 miles
Average speed on 50CC: 63.4 mph
Average gas mileage: 35 mpg
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