My trip to the IBR August 2003
So, the plan was to leave at the crack’o’dawn. Didn’t exactly work out as intended. Monday I spent the day frantically trying to get everything done. In the process, I hurt my back somehow. This slowed down the whole list of things to do. I did get to the grocery market and bought a large bucket of kitty litter (a necessity). I had a hard time lifting the bucket without aggravating my back more. I strapped it on to the back of the bike and went home. I was careful getting it into the house. The minor electrical mods ended taking far longer than I anticipated. Plus, hunching over the bike did NOT feel so good. By early evening, I decided the crack’o’dawn plan just had to go. I went to bed.
I got up with the intention of being on the road by noon. Close – I actually left at the stroke of 2pm. Dear God, not again. The bike was a little heavy. I was running on the Eilenburger theory – that is, if you’re prepared for something to break, it won’t break. So I was taking all the tools necessary to change out the alternator belt along with a spare belt. When I got ready to leave, I grabbed the side rail to rock down from the center stand. And it didn’t move. I tried again, and this time the centerstand skidded along the ground. I climbed aboard, put it in gear and it slid off the centerstand.
Five miles from my house, the bike starts to miss. Oh great, something else to contend with.
I’ve decided I really hate the directions that Map’n’Go provides. I can never tell at what mileage each event is supposed to occur. Yes, I know I’m lame. Also, when two or more roads co-habit, the instructions make it seem as if you have to exit to the new road, even when they are the same. Anyway, I got lost right off the bat, while still in VA. Most embarrassing – ended up riding about 20 miles out of my way getting back on track. I finally tried actually following the instructions on a map a figured out what I was really supposed to do. Whew! I finally got onto 33. An amazing road, a wonderful road. Unfortunately, it also goes through Harrisonburg with 50 stoplights. Okay, I exaggerate, there were only 40 lights. At 6 o’clock, I realized I’d only covered 209 miles. Not a good sign. It was obvious to me that I wouldn’t be covering 600 miles today. Oh, yes, then there’s the rain. The temp is hovering in the low 90s. Then the wretched black clouds start to cover the entire western horizon and the temp starts to drop. Down to 63F and I’m soaked again. Temp stays really low (warms up to 64F) and the rain comes and goes. The clouds in the mountains are wonderful. Seneca Rocks is still fabulous. Weather is not fabulous. Cold and rainy and my ‘waterproof gloves’ aren’t.
I was going to ride late, but I’m in the mountains and I really don’t want to ride after dark because of all the deer. I decide to bag it in Elkins and of course, as soon as I decide to stop, it starts to rain – again. I was almost dry. Coming into Elkins, I see an Econo-Lodge, but decide to see what else is available. After I pass through Elkins, I decide the go back to the e-lodge. ACKK! At least it has a restaurant next door. Get into room and try to find a dryer so I can dry my wet gear. Uh, sorry, the dryer is broken. Rats. But, we’d be happy to dry your stuff in our dryer later. Bingo. Such nice people. I try the ‘restaurant’ next door and it’s really just a bar that serves hot wings. Not my idea of a good time. Besides, they don’t have any good beer. Call Papa John’s (as per hotel literature) and get a pizza delivered with two cokes. Nicely delivered and great pizza. My miniatures of Wild Turkey make the cokes much more palatable. Mmmmm. The weather channel is droning on about nasty weather everywhere. I’m going to try and dodge the bad stuff tomorrow. I may have to abandon my route and hit the interstates to make up some lost time. Now that I’ve looked at my route, I find I’ve been off course nearly all day. Oh well. As I said, 33 is a fabulous road. I could ride up to 50 and pick up the route, but 33 goes through Spencer WV – my home town. So of course, I’ll have to ride through there, just to see it again. I’ll be back on course tomorrow sometime.
GPS stats:267 miles
Average speed 56.1
Trip Timer: 4:54:41
Max Speed 87.2 =)
N 38’54.922
W079’50.281
The day dawned foggy and cool. It took me a while to get going and I finally left at 7:45am. Everything outside was wet and very soggy. I took off. After about an hour, I decided to stop at a McDonald’s for breakfast. As I was gearing up to leave, a coupla guys stopped to chat. We had a nice talk and I was ready to leave. I rode around the restaurant and stopped to let another car go first. The parking lot was a little off camber to the left and I lost my balance and down I go. I have never hit so hard. I heard a crunching sound on impact. The bike was down on the left side, but it didn’t stop at the head, but tipped even farther over. People rushed out of the McD’s to help. Three guys were trying to lift the bike, but they had no clue how. I reached over and pushed to wheels down and the guys lifted it up.
Details are a little fuzzy. The left mirror popped off. Someone handed it to me and I put it back on. Someone found a broken part on the ground which I recognized as the lower mount for the saddlebag. Oops. Someone else was directing traffic around the commotion. I climbed back on and took off. On reflection, I should have cooled down first.
The road was nice and twisty, but I had other things to consider. I had pain in my side. The crunching sound I heard was either a) the saddlebag mount breaking or 2) one of more of my ribs cracking. The prospect of having to give up this trip because of a parking lot tip over did not make me happy. I tried to recall what I know about the treatment for cracked/broken ribs. I think there is no treatment, nor does it make any difference if they are broken or cracked. I decided to stop at the hospital in Spencer and ask. I followed the signs for the hospital and didn’t find it. I kept going.
I stopped at a Taco Bell for an early lunch and decided to check out my map. Then I noticed the distinctive blue signs that indicate an interstate. Throwing caution and my original route to the wind, I jump on I77 South to Charleston to pick up 64 west. The new route is 77 to 64 to 65 to 74. I’m so far off course and off schedule, I’m not sure what I can do. Tomorrow I guess, I decide if I can go on. Very icky. I stop for the night at Champaign-Urbana. The sunset was nice.
Trip mileage 668.7
Trip Timer 10:03:55
Average speed 66.4
Max Speed 89.6 (eek)
Cumulative GPS stats 935.7
Average speed 62.5
Trip Timer 14:58:36
Well, I wondered if it could get any worse. I found out.
I spent the night in Champaign-Urbana in a too-nice hotel, in their handicapped room. Nice big bathroom. I’m moving pretty slowly. I remember I have a Velcro strap in my top case that might help my ribs. I get started at about 8am local. I’ve decided to continue on, but it’s still kinda iffy. Everyone at the hotel is very friendly and willing to talk and commiserate. I ride for a wile, but I’m not feeling very well, so the riding isn’t very fluid. I notice lots of riders coming from the opposite direction. I figure they are coming from Sturgis. Most (75%) are not wearing s helmet and all but one are not wearing any protective gear. Some guys are not even wearing shirts. Big culture difference.
I stopped at a rest stop to clear yet another ABS fault. I have to remove everything strapped to the back seat. While I’m at it, I figure I should try to check the left saddlebag for damage. Sure enough, the bag has been rubbing against the rear wheel and now I have a hole in my bag. While I’m inspecting the damage, a truck driver stops by to see how I’m doing. He gets a tarp tie down and we try to figure out how to keep the bag off the tire. I think we got it. Another helpful, friendly person.
I stop for lunch and another McD as I love their new salads. I group of folks sits nearby and starts to talk to me. One of the older guys has a Goldwing and we talked about his trip to Alaska. No helmet, no protective gear.
I noticed a drugstore when I first came into town, so I planned on stopping by to get some Ace bandages to wrap my ribs. It turns out this is a supermarket that has a pharmacy and sells alcohol as well. I buy some breakfast bars, 2 ace-type bandages and a fifth of Wild Turkey. What more could I want?
I keep riding, but I’ve got no rhythm and it’s a real struggle. I notice all kinds of police all of a sudden, but my radar detector has been quiet. I get pulled over and get a performance award for 88.23 mph in a 65 zone. I have been nailed by an airplane circling overhead. Me and a bunch of trucks and assorted other vehicles. So much for my V1.
I decide to stop for some caffeine and sugar buzz (chocolate ice cream). I didn’t’ really work, so I stopped at a rest stop to Iron Butt motel it. I parked near another bike and a woman asked me if I had seen a red headed woman during my ride. No, I hadn’t. They had been riding together and she had to stop for gas and they became separated. I wondered how a person could ride with someone else without figuring out how to deal with common stuff like gas stops, potty stops etc. Anyway, I thought I’d take a short nap lying in the soft grass. I couldn’t actually sleep as I kept thinking of things I needed to do/consider. I got my laptop and tried to figure out where I was and how far I still have to go. I finally admitted that I couldn’t get to Missoula by Friday and called the hotel and cancelled my reservation for Friday night.
I would get there sometime on Saturday. The red-headed woman shows up and we had a nice chat. They were on their way to Sturgis and surrounding areas. I figure I should try to get a least 600 miles in before I stop. I make it to just outside Sioux City Iowa. Motel 6 beckons. Life can be good.
GPS mileage 582.1
Average speed 73.99
Trip Timer 7:52:03
Cumulative GPS stats 1517.8
Average speed 66.4
Trip timer 22:50:39
Max speed 88.23 according to the IL state police. 🙁
When I checked into the Motel 6 last night, I was waiting behind a group of three who just came from Sturgis. They we so tired as they had ridden SO far. How far, I asked. 450 miles. Ooh, I had to one up them, so I told them I had ridden 600 miles. I exaggerated slightly. They went off to their rooms. I asked for a ground floor room. I was told that the last one was rented by 2pm. I explained that I had a cracked rib and was in some pain and it would be helpful if I didn’t have very far to walk. The desk clerk’s eyes got big and he said he had a handicapped room that he usually saves for someone with a broken leg or something, but I might qualify. The room was on the far end of the motel (I didn’t realize that), but it was really convenient to the bike, so I was happy.
The next morning, I was out trying to gear the bike up, when a fellow came over and asked if I was the woman with the broken rib. I said yes (another slight exaggeration). He said he got the last room and the clerk told him he was right next to the crazy woman who rides with broken ribs. He asked to take my picture. I assented and we had a nice chat. He had come from Sturgis. It was too crowded and too hot. I don’t think he had a very good time. I noticed an airhead amongst a group of HDs. He came over to talk to me as well. He and his wife also came from Sturgis. It was a nice old bike.
I finally got out of there way late, but I was moving kinda slow. I stopped for breakfast and really got going. Everything still hurts and there was no fluidity to the riding. I chugged on and on through SD. I saw hundreds, maybe thousands of bikes, and maybe 5% of the riders were wearing helmets and one – one was wearing any protective gear. I know that peer pressure is a powerful thing, but this is a little excessive. Now that I think about it, I think I’ve been riding exclusively through states that don’t have helmet laws since WV. Scary, eh?? I stopped too often and wasted too much time. No rhythm.
I stopped at a scenic overlook with no facilities. There was one other rider there already, so I parked near him.
He was from MN and was going to visit a friend/relative in Rapid City. He likes to do this every year. He has an old AMF HD that doesn’t like to start when it’s hot. I told him my tale of woe and said that I didn’t’ know what else could go wrong, but I wouldn’t want to tempt the gods with a statement like that. I should know better.
I noticed an interesting phenomenon today. The thermometer on my bike got hotter as I rode and cooled down when I stopped. That’s the opposite of my previous experience. I thought that maybe the sender had come loose and was hanging close to something particularly hot, but that wasn’t the case. It got up to 114F today, but cooled down to 98F when I stopped. Very weird.
When I left the overlook, my new bud was talking to two other guys who had stopped. After I got back onto the highway, I felt something hit my back. WTF, I thought, and reached down to my fanny pack. It wasn’t there. I jammed on the brakes and pulled onto the shoulder. The car and trailer behind me made heroic efforts to not run over me. I jumped off the bike on the left side (as per usual), and took off down the shoulder looking for my fanny pack. It only has EVERYTHING in it. Wallet, digital camera, Palm Pilot and assorted doodads. My whole life. I was still wearing my helmet and jacket. I continued walking back the way I had ridden. I took the helmet and jacket off and left them on the side of the road and kept walking back, desperately looking for my pack. I covered about a ¼ mile. I was looking on the road, on the shoulder and in the median. My new bud from the scenic overlook went by. He stopped just short of my bike. I walked back to his bike to tell him the story. He commiserated, but had a date to meet the other two guys at Wall Drug for a drink. Uh, thanks. He went on and I went back to my bike to drop off the helmet and jacket and to keep searching. When I got back to the bike, I saw that the fanny pack didn’t actually fall off the bike, but got caught on the right side. OH MY GOD!!!. Thank you Jesus. I put on the fanny pack, and left. I realized that perhaps it might be a good idea to put a credit card and maybe some other docs in another spot for this trip. Duh!!!
South Dakota is more beautiful than I remembered. The huge fields, the strangely rolling hills, the unusual lighting are all so striking. I wish I had time to wander around. Maybe on the way back. The weather is just plain hot. I’m sure glad I have the Rukka as it’s way too hot for anything else and I really don’t want to ride with no gear. Not the way my luck has been running !!!
I finally got to Rapid City. Traffic was tricky. Locals don’t care, most bikes are oblivious. A dangerous mix. There was an accident on the eastbound side involving something (?) and a car carrier which ended up on its side in the median with cars strewn about. More scary stuff. I got past Sturgis – the exit ramp was way backed up. Glad I didn’t want to go that way. Then my low fuel light came on. The last several tanks have been the 10% ethanol mix and I been getting shitty mileage from those tanks. I needed to get gas PDQ. The next stop after Sturgis had a gas station, so off I go ISO. I stopped at an Amoco station. No pay at the pump and lots of bikes loitering around. I knew this was going to take a while. I noticed another gas station across the street. There was a truck gassing up, so I decided to go there. It looked like a newer station, so I thought it would be quicker. Oh, yeah. I get over there and the pump says ‘out of order’, so I move to another pump and it says the same. I ask the guy who’s pumping if the pump is working and he is confused. I told him that the pumps don’t seem to be working. DUH!! I go back to the first station. And wait for a pump to free up. Ever since my little tip over, I’ve been very nervous about close quarters, slow speed maneuvers. I get gas and get the heck out of there. Goodbye Sturgis.
Except that I stop for food at Spearfish. Just a nice chicken sandwich at a BK. Strange people floating by. An Asian woman with really long hair (nothing unusual), blond (?), with big, probably fake, basooms. Asian women are not usually known for being blond or well endowed. Another anomaly. An old guy with a long white beard and a shaved head with a much younger woman. Hmmm.