I perfomed this ride on a 1987 BMW K100RT armed with:
 

Corbin dual-canyon seat (as uncomfortable as it is for me) Standard fuel tank without an auxiliary cell Saeng fog lights Marsee tank bag.  Camelback bladder in the tank bag (the original and still best in my opinion) Fuel+ trip computer Digital compass MSR bottle, 1 liter capacity as a reserve K&N air filter Givi 50L topcase

 I was loaded up with the usual rally gear: tent, sleeping bag, thermarest mattress, camp chair, clothes, etc.

I began the ride with the intention of completing the Iron Butt Associations (http://www.ironbutt.com) SaddleSore ride, 1000 miles ridden in 24 hours.  I was attending the 1st Annual Internet BMW Riders (IBMWR) Blueberry Rally in Avinger Texas, hosted by Herb and Wilma Stark, and thought I’d do the Saddlesore on the trip home. I asked Wilma Stark and a fellow rally goer, Julie, to witness by odometer reading.

I left Texas at 10:12 AM, central daylight savings time (CDT).  The weather was HOT, and muggy, and just plain unpleasant.  By the time I was ready to go, I was dripping wet with sweat.  Not the greatest way to start a 1000 mile ride.  As soon as I hit the road though, the speed and air movement made things feel much better.  Well, cooler at least.  Traffic was light, and the ride pleasant until the bike began to warm up.  Anyone with a K-bike knows how hot these bikes can get, and it was warming up quickly!  After 2 hours of riding, the tank was hot enough to cause pain on the contact area of my inner thigh with the leg pad on the tank.  It’s going to be a long ride…

Things were pretty uneventful until I hit my first obstacle.  It was a screw up on my part.  I ran out of gas at Exit #41 on I-55 in Arkansas!  I had been watching for gas signs for 30 miles before finally running out, not a single sign nor visible gas station from any exit.  Either Arkansas does not post gas signs before exits, or there weren’t any stations along the interstate.  I finally pulled off at Exit 41 and found a resident who said the local station was closed for the holiday.  He directed me back to the interstate, said to head north to the next exit, turn left and I should find a station open there.  I put my 1 liter reserve of fuel (kept in a MSR bottle) in the tank and headed off.  I found Exit #44, and headed into Keiser finding three gas stations, ALL closed for the holiday!  I doubled back to the interstate hoping to head north and find the next exit WITH gas.  I didn’t even make it back to the interstate.  I passed under the interstate and the bike died.  I had been rolling the bike side to side trying to get gas to the fuel pump, but it finally hit rock bottom, I wasn’t going another foot under power.  I pulled over getting prepared for either a long walk, or a long push of the bike!  I hadn't hardly come to a stop when a passerby stopped and asked if I needed help.   The man, John, offered to siphon some gas out of his car for me.  After a few tries it was turning out to be more difficult than it sounded.  I gave it a try and immediately swallowed a good tablespoon of gas in the attempt  YUCK!  It was the most unpleasant thing I could recall having ever done and almost instantaneously retched.  John handed me a bottle of water to rinse with.  The water was HOT because it had been sitting in his truck!  Strike two!  We finally got 3 quarts out of his tank and into mine.  I thanked him profusely, and gave him some cash for helping out - which he didn't want, but which I made him take.  I then started up the bike and headed back onto the interstate, with John following me to make sure the bike would run.  The next exit, #48, had several gas stations  ALL of them open.  I stopped to brush my teeth and guzzle down a Mountain Dew to get rid of the gas taste.

Back on the road, quite furious with myself, and Arkansas in general, I was becoming worried by the continuous taste of gasoline in my mouth, the odor in my helmet, and noxious belching caused by the gasoline.  If I was a smoker, and lit one up, I’d have probably lit up myself!  At least, that’s how it seemed.  The Mountain Dew just wasn’t going to cut it.  I wasn’t sure what you were supposed to do if you swallowed gasoline (induce vomiting, NOT induce vomiting?!?!?) so I pulled into Exit #67 and stopped at a Subway.  I figured that bread might absorb the gasoline (I had a mental image of a layer of gasoline on top of a layer of Mountain Dew, on top of a layer of water, in my stomach) and then the food itself might ease my stomach.  I really didn’t feel like eating, but felt I had too.  It seemed to help.  Maybe it was the air conditioning of the Subway (finally some relief from the heat!) or maybe the bread did work!  Regardless, I felt much better afterward.  I stopped in the restroom to wash my face and hands again to get rid of the gasoline odor, and got on the bike and kept going.  It worked!  No more gas odor, no more belching gas fumes, stomach felt better, I guess I did the right thing.

!!!! IF you should ever swallow gasoline, you are NOT to induce vomiting.  Find a hospital or call 911, you need to be administered activated charcoal to absorb the gasoline.  I've been informed that I must have eliminated most of the gasoline when I retched, otherwise petroleum induced pneumonia would have likely been induced.  I was fortunate I did not become violently ill from this episode. !!!!

The rest of the daytime ride went along fairly well.  The evening hours were quite welcome with their respite from the heat of the day.  Night, however, brought along it’s own host of problems.  The major problem I ran into during the night ride occurred along a 25 mile stretch of I-70 taking me from I-55 to I-57. I started hearing a tapping noise, like rain, and welcomed that relief!  I could use a good soaking of cool rain.  I stuck my hand out from behind the protection of the windshield to check - ouch!  That hurt!  It’s not rain... hail maybe?!?  No, it’s not hail, it’s bugs!  LOTS of bugs!  For the next 25 miles I ran through a very thick cloud of bugs.  I have no idea what kind, as they disintegrated when they hit my windshield or helmet.  I’d never experienced anything like this on the bike!  I tried turning off the fog lights, thinking they might be attracting them, but that only reduced my visibility it did not cut down on the bugs at all, so I tuned them back on.  The bike deserved a cleaning before this ride, now it’s going to get the full treatment when I arrive home!

I arrived home in Portage Michigan, at 3 AM, the odo indicating 1,023 miles.  I had “checked” the odo three times during the ride, taking note of the odo reading as I passed a mile marker, then 50 miles down the road (50 mile markers that is) double checked the odo reading.  I found mine reads low by slightly more than 1% in all three tests (50 miles was reading 49.4 or so on my odo).  I was confident, therefore, that I had truly ridden 1000 miles.  I really felt good arriving home, and was totally awake.  I was a little sore but I've been worse!  I double checked my departure time, ran a quick calculation in my head and figured I had another 8 hours to complete 500 more miles.  The night temperatures hadn’t cooled off much during the trip, as I hoped it would, but it was still pleasantly fairly cool and comfortable without the sun beating down on me.  I might be able to complete a Bun Burner Gold ride (1500 miles in 24 hours) after all, or CERTAINLY the Bun Burner (1500 miles in 36 hours).  I HAD to ride another 500 miles!  HAD too!  I stopped and filled up to obtain my finish time/receipt then stopped home, printed two more copies of start/end forms, and headed out looking for a police officer to sign my forms.  I first headed to the Portage Police station.  No one was around and the doors were locked.  Hmmm.  I drove around town thinking I would find a cruiser parked in a mall lot somewhere.  Nope.  I then headed out to the Portage Airport thinking a security guard should be there.  It was closed!!  I never would have thought the airport closed.  There was no sign of life there, so I headed back to Portage hoping to find a police officer again.  I didn’t see one.  Now I am getting frustrated, tiredness is setting in, and I’m thinking “screw the whole thing”.  I tried a Meijer store (24 hour K-mart like store but with groceries) thinking their security personel would suffice.  They weren’t on duty either (they mainly patrrol the parking lot during the day/early evening).  I decided to make one more run down the main strip and finally came across a cruiser stopped at a light.  I pulled alongside and asked if he would pull over in the mall lot for a question.  He signaled he would.  I pulled in and waited.  And waited.  Hmmm, he’s just sitting there at the light.  I was getting anxious and figured he doesn’t know who the hell I am and is probably more than a little suspicious.  So, I got off the bike, took my helmet off and got the papers out.  He pulled in (probably had been calling in a second cruiser) and asked what I wanted.  I explained to him about the IBA, the ride I just completed, and asked if he would sign the “non-legal, non-binding, un-official” forms to indicate he witnessed my odometer reading.  He repeated what I’d said to make sure he understood, and shook his head and said I was crazy!  He signed the forms and we talked a bit about the bike.  He wished me luck on the next 500 mile leg (which I told him I had 19 hours to complete) and I headed out for the 500 mile sprint.  I had two options available to pick from.  I could head to Indianapolis IN, which would be about 250 miles and then turn around, or head north on US 131 until I hit 250 miles, then turn around.  I debated it for a few minutes and decided on running to Indianapolis.  North of Grand Rapids on US 131, gas becomes scarce and the memory of running out of gas in Arkansas was still quite fresh in my memory.  Quite.  Also, the Michigan police have been stepping up their presence on the major highways this month and I thought Indiana might be patrolled less.

Off to Indianapolis.  I stopped again at Meijer and topped up (a whopping half gallon!) and obtained a new receipt and then headed to Indianapolis.  I wasn’t really sure I needed the second start form, or the receipt, but I got them anyway.  The run to Indianapolis was a clear one,  hardly any traffic to contend with, and no police.  The distance turned out to be a little shorter than I anticipated -  222 miles by the odo.  Well, I figured I’d started the second leg 23 miles ahead of 1000, ran around Portage for another 14 miles and if I ran back to Paw Paw Michigan (west of Portage) should put me at 1500 miles.  Paw Paw is a good stop because I know the police station there and that they ARE open 24 hours, there’s a gas station right at the interstate so if I am pinched for time there won’t be any searching for a gas station, and it’s about 16 miles further than Portage.  I gassed up at Exit #5, just north of Indianapolis, got my receipt and started back north.  While heading to Indianapolis, I noticed a “motoman” alongside the interstate  but too late to be able to stop for it.  I was making good time and figured I’d stop on the return trip North when I came to it and get a picture with my bike for a Rat site.  I have been trying to get into the Rat Club too, which requires 20 pictures of you and/or your bike at Rat sites.  Visit this site for more information:  http://members.aol.com/ratrunbmw/.
 
 

So, I had to stop and get the picture!  I missed Exit #41 where the motoman is, and turned around at the next exit.  Got my picture and headed back north on I-69.  About 10 miles up the road I came across three Goldwings that were stopped alongside the road.  I stopped to see if they needed help.  They didn’t think so, one of the bikes had been blowing smoke out the rear end and when he checked his oil found it was really low.  He added 1 quart of oil, all he had on the bike, and figured they would stop at the next exit to get more.  We chatted a bit and they asked if I’d just come from the Super 8 hotel.  I said no, I’d been coming up from Indianapolis.  They said there was a bike just like mine at the Super 8 and they thought I was the same one.  I told them I was doing the Bun Burner Gold ride (I had to explain what that was) and they thought I was nuts but said I was “an inspiration to them all”.  They were planning a 500 mile trip north that day.  They left, no smoke coming out of the guys bike, and I continued on.  I calculated my time and thought for a minute I might not make the BBG after all.  I rethought it and if I maintained a 65 MPH average I would still make it - WHEW!  The police really were out in full force after the stop to help the Goldwings.  In Michigan I passed 13 police cruisers in an 8 mile stretch of I-94, ALL with someone pulled over!  The radar detector was at full alert the whole time, there was such a high police presence.  I was hit by laser twice too.  I wasn’t pulled over.

I made it to Paw Paw and gassed up and obtained my end receipt.  I calculated my mileage and came up with 1506 miles.  I hope that my odometer is truly 1% low!  With only another 30 minutes left to complete the ride, I thought about riding some more but I didn’t know where too.  If I continued heading West the next police station I know of is around Exit #28 on I-94.  It’s a 40 minute ride there - I wouldn’t make it.  I decided to just take my chances and end it here.  I drove up the street to the Paw Paw police station and asked to talk with an officer.  I explained twice to him what I wanted and he still didn’t quite understand,  I am sure I was not completely lucid  at the time, I was a bit tired!  So, I took him out to the bike to SHOW him.  The front of the bike was solid bugs and I showed him the forms I was talking about.  He signed them and said I was nuts.  I’d been hearing that a lot on this ride.  He asked what I got if accepted into the IBA and I said that I get into a club that you can’t buy your way into, a IBA Pin, a certificate to put on my office wall, and a plate frame that said “World’s toughest motorcycle riders”.  He said I deserve it after that ride.

I’ve put together the documentation the IBA requests, which turned out to be more work than I anticipated.  I mailed the forms in the day before the start of the BMW MOA National rally as I didn’t have time to stop at the post office and have the package weighed and mailed before I left.  That was, July 12, 1999.  I was officially admitted into the IBA in August of 1999.

It was a great ride.  A long ride.  I met a lot of nice people along the way and that always makes for a great ride!  Everyone at my gas stops allowed me to fill my Camelback with ice and water without charging me.  They all wanted to know about my ride and WHY I would do such a thing!  I just had to do it, for myself and no one else.  To push my limits and see what I could endure.

The Camelback is absolutely invaluable on a ride like this.  It’s tough to get ice in though, at least in an expeditious manner.  I met a endurance rider while at the Blueberry Rally, sorry, can’t remember his name, who had a gallon water jug in a custom bag attached to his auxillary fuel cell.  Nice, large, screw-off top and an extension hose down into the cooler and running up to a bite valve conveniently close to his mouth.  Very intersting idea, I’m going to have to pursue that.  Quicker filling, larger capacity, it doesn't "sweat" like the Camelback bladder, and it would free up some room in my tankbag.

Web page created and maintained by: John A. Brown  Copyright © 2000