Trip Report: CCC-100

Ride Dates: 17-20 October, 2004

Rider: I. Ray West

Bike: 1999 BMW K1200LTC

Introduction......................................................................................................................... 3 Background..................................................................................................................... 3 The Decision to Go ......................................................................................................... 4 Preparing for the trip....................................................................................................... 4 The Pack List .................................................................................................................. 5

Clothing....................................................................................................................... 5 Electronics................................................................................................................... 6 Bike Stuff .................................................................................................................... 6 CCC-100 Trip Specific Items ..................................................................................... 6 Food ............................................................................................................................ 7 Things to Check .......................................................................................................... 7

The day I left home............................................................................................................. 7 Getting to Jacksonville.................................................................................................... 9 The Rhythm .................................................................................................................... 9 PirateJohn...................................................................................................................... 10

The CCC-100 Ride ........................................................................................................... 12 Starting Out Day One.................................................................................................... 12 The Speed Award.......................................................................................................... 13 Day One on the Road.................................................................................................... 14 Day two......................................................................................................................... 19 Combating Boredom on the road.................................................................................. 23 Run to the coast............................................................................................................. 24 The Fog ......................................................................................................................... 26 Day three....................................................................................................................... 28 Day four ........................................................................................................................ 33 The Finish Line ............................................................................................................. 36

The Morning After............................................................................................................ 38 Post Thoughts................................................................................................................ 40

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Introduction This is a factual catalog of my experiences and a journal of my thoughts and feelings. I am not a writer and do not propose to be one but sometimes feel I must write down the things I experience. This log is intended to provide my wife, Patty, with my perspective on the trip and something that I can pass along to my children and grand children someday. Writing things down is like cheap therapy for me. It helps me to cement the experience in my memory and see things that I would not otherwise see. Experiences like this one means a lot to me and I want to share it with others. I think the things that mean the most to people are the things that they experienced while suffering personal hardship or sacrificing the creature comforts of life. Only in this way do you really appreciate what you have and the things you take for granted. The people that can have anything don’t appreciate anything or anyone, including the people that love them.

Background What is a CCC-100, or CC Gold as it is sometimes referred to, you might ask? It’s the brainchild of the IBA (Iron Butt Association) and is considered one of their “Extreme” rides. To be a member of the IBA you must do at least a SaddleSore ride which is a documented ride of 1,000 miles or more within a 24 hour period. There are rides between the SaddleSore and the CCC-100. The highest level non-extreme ride is the CC-50 which is coast to coast within 50 hours. The CCC-100 is back-to-back CC-50’s done within 100 hours. The rules state that you must run from one coast to another coast and back to your starting point within 100 hours. Most riders go from Jacksonville to San Diego and back which is a slightly shorter run than New York to Los Angeles. The coast must be the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, the Gulf of Mexico don’t count. I of course chose the Jacksonville to San Diego route. Living in Southern Indiana puts me a little less than 800 miles from Jacksonville which minimizes the time it would takes to get to the starting point and return trip home afterwards. Another requirement is to get a witness at the start of the run, turn around point and end. The witness must be a police officer, judge or IBA member. If you can’t get one of these, you can get half a dozen ordinary citizens to sign your form to verify you were at that location but they must supply phone numbers and agree to verify both in writing and by phone. Your time for the run starts when you fill up with gas at the starting point and goes until you return to that point. All fuel and other stops for over 10 minutes must be logged on a log sheet they have on their web site. Copies of fuel receipts must be attached to a written log with mileages and reasons for the stops listed. I have attached a copy of my paperwork to give you an idea of what must be done. I didn’t start out to do the CCC-100 but had decided to do the CC-50 (Jacksonville to San Diego only in less than 50 hours) back in the spring of the same year. The plan was to do the run with a co-worker and then wonder the back roads from San Diego back to Evansville. I made the plans and told everyone I was going and just before the trip, the other guy backed out. I was busy with work at the time which provided me with a good excuse not to go alone. For the remainder of the summer I pondered the idea of making

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the trip alone while in the meantime, two of my friends, did the CC-50 run without me. Not that I am a competitive person but from my standpoint they set the bar at the CC-50 and I had to do something more and I had to do it alone. I decided not to tell anyone what I was doing until I got back. I think I jinxed the original attempt by telling people about it and counting on someone else as a crutch.

The Decision to Go I reviewed the IBA website and read the trip logs from other riders and the requirements for the run. The CCC-100 was considered an “Extreme” run and the CC-50 was not. That settled it. I had to do an extreme ride and one-better the others. The bar was about to be raised and I had to do it on my one. I discussed the run briefly with my wife, Patty, and she was supportive, as always. I decided that the fall would be a good time to go since temperatures on the southern route would be moderate in the fall and the chance of rain would be less. I went through Oklahoma on my Route 66 trip in September with the temperature at 106 on a Softtail and didn’t want to repeat that experience. Mid October sounded a lot better so I arranged for a weeks vacation and started preparing. As the trip dates approached, I posted a note on the BMW site requesting advice and routing on the trip. I calculated the trip would total at close to 7,000 miles by the time I made it home again. This was definitely not your normal 300 mile a day trip with my wife and friends and a challenge that would be remembered for a long time. A lot of advice came in about the problems with small deer in West Texas and the bridge on I-10 being out in Pensacola and the problems with San Antonio traffic. Some said to try to make Van Horn Texas the first night (some 1,500 miles from Jacksonville). In my usual style, I picked out some of the advice to take and discarded the rest. If you take everyone’s advice, you would probably never go on the trip or you would need a semi to haul all the gear with ¼” steel armor all around to protect yourself.

Preparing for the trip I used mapping software to plot the course and looked at various points on each coast to start the trip. I wound up taking the advise of IBA members and started at a Shell station in Jacksonville Beach. This is an old section of Jacksonville that is being overrun with condo’s (more on that later). For the San Diego end, most suggested running to the end of I-8 which drops you off a few blocks from the beach and believe it or not, there is another Shell station. The president of the IBA directed me to a guy named John “PirateJohn” Gilmer in Jacksonville that witnessed CC-50 and CCC-100 trips for other members but was an outcast of the internet group which I had asked advise from. It seems he had let’s say a differing of opinion with some on the group and dropped out. I e-mailed John and sure enough, he was more than happy to help. He gave me the address of the Shell station, recommended a hotel and said when I got into town to drop by his house and he would show me around. You can’t beat that. I’ll tell you more about PirateJohn later. I had an IBA member in San Diego, David Shealey, and offer to witness me at that end of the trip. David also supplied phone numbers, locations and recommended hotels and agreed to meet me for the official witness signature

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I gave the bike a good once-over paying particular attention to the rear end. The shaft drive in these particular models have about a 4% failure rate and the group on the internet have talked about it so much that I expect it to fall out at any moment. I changed the oil using synthetic BMW oil, as usual, and figured this should hold up for the 7,000 mile trip. I know some of my fellow BMW riders will debate this but my humble opinion is that you can run 10,000 between changes on synthetic.

The Pack List I am one of those people that need a list so I don’t forget stuff, like my head. I have a standard trip list that I use for motorcycle trips so I started getting things together a week or so in advance. The K1200LTC has a lot of trunk space but I wanted to travel as light as possible to conserve gas and time spent finding things. If you saw the array of electronic gadgets on my dash and handlebars, you’d laugh at my idea of traveling light but from a clothes standpoint, I think I did. I don’t think keeping a list is a matter of getting older and forgetting as much as it is a matter of something critical being easy to overlook. Einstein didn’t memorize his phone number because it could be looked up. Why worry over a trip and what to take when a list will take the worry out of it. The following is my list for this trip which I would cut down some for the future:

Clothing 10 pairs of Tube Socks (Patty laughs at this but since my Marine Corps days, I have believed clean, dry socks are the most important thing you can take.) 2 pairs of Wool Socks (just in case my feet got cold) 4 pairs of boxers (Tighty-Whities cut into your skin at the seams next to the seat) 1 pair of riding shorts (these are thin, tight fitting boxers, light weight and won’t ride up) 1 set of long underwear (these are the same material as the riding shorts) 2 pairs of blue jeans (the Harley jeans are a very comfortable fit. I had some old ones with holes in them which were the most comfortable. I think they are actually Wrangler brand which accommodates my wide butt better than Levis) 1 Short Sleeve Tee Shirt 2 Long Sleeve Tee Shirts (Since the Route 66 ride, I get sun poisoning on my arms and have to keep them covered up) 1 Hat (covers the helmet hair) 1 Pair Chaps 1 Pair Riding Boots (waterproof) 1 Pair lightweight riding gloves 1 Summer Cool Padded Jacket (the kind with holes in it for ventilation) 1 Rain Suite 1 Turtleneck Shirt 1 Pullover Sweater 1 Pair Tennis Shoes (I should have left these items home as I had no time to exercise or change shores) 1 Pair Running Shorts 1 Pair Tighty-Whities for Running 1 Toothbrush, Toothpaste, Mouthwash, Dental Floss, Deodorant, Q-Tips, Nail Clippers, Tweezers, Comb

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Do-rag (just in case my helmet itched my head) Bandanna RKA Bags for Saddlebags (easier to take out and carry in the hotel) Gym Bag for Topcase Heated Vest & Cord (an absolute must) Belt

Electronics Cell phone Cell phone charger GPS Radar Detector Sirius Radio Spare Cell Phone with Charger Laptop Computer (just in case I had time to check my e-mail, which I didn’t) Shower Caps (to cover electronics up in the rain) Camera (never used it)

Bike Stuff BMW Toolkit Pocket Knife Flat Repair Kit Roll of Electrical Tape Flashlight BMW Tank Bag BMW manuals that came with the bike Spare shifter linkage kit (these sometimes break on this particular bike) Night Glasses with case Sun Glasses with case Full-face Schueberth Helmet Rags (for cleaning stuff) Sun Screen Bundle of Wire Ties

CCC-100 Trip Specific Items 3 Bottles (for sand and water at the beaches, each pre-marked for JAX-1, SD, JAX-3) 5 Witness forms (only need 3 but took some extras) 5 Log forms List of addresses, phone numbers of witnesses and hotels, stop locations, and other supporting information. 3 Pencils (for filling out forms on the road, 2 spares in case lead broke) 1 Cigar, cutter and lighter for the end of the trip (never used) 1 Set motivational tapes (in case boredom sets in and I need to keep awake) 1 Camelbak hydration unit (like a backpack with a drinking tube)

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Food 2 Packages of Beef Jerky 1 Package of Lemon Drops (works well to keep you alert on long rides) 1 Bottle Water (kept as spare)

Things to Check Tire Pressure Rear End Grease Engine Oil Communications System (more on this addition later) Battery Water Yes, I still think this is traveling light. I left my razor out to lighten the load, or at least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I started preparations about a week before the trip by changing the oil and checking things out pretty good. I make it a point not to change anything major just before a trip but about a month prior a friend and I built me a new seat for the BMW. The stock seat was far too soft for a long trip and my Corbin seat was far too hard. Sounds like a fairy tail, right? Anyway, I had secured some foam of various densities about a year ago and finally decided to give it a try. We took the cover off the stock seat, removed the old foam and built up new foam in layers. We started with very firm foam and worked our way to the softer stuff as each layer went on. We used 3M spray adhesive to glue each layer together and an electric knife to sculpt the foam to fit the old cover. I made a cardboard pattern of the contour of the old seat before removing the cover so we would have the right shape when finished. I was looking for the “just right” combination of firm support but soft enough to mold to my butt. More on how this worked out later. I also added a sheep skin cover someone gave me and I thought it might be better than sitting on the vinyl seat. I packed my stuff during the week before and tried to check everything I could off the list except food and clothes. This worked well but I ran out of time in the evenings after work and failed to check out my communications system. It had worked well last time I used it but I had not plugged my cell phone into it for some time. As you will find out later, this was a big mistake. Note to self: Double check all communications gear well before the trip so you will have time for repairs. I have probably spent more time on communications gear than everything else combined. I raised the seat to do something, I forget what, and decided to check the electrolyte in the battery. Good thing I did because it was at the top of the plates. I would have probably lost the battery on the trip if I had not done this. I filled the battery with distilled water and added this to my list of things to check prior to a trip, along with checking communications gear.

The day I left home I took off from work early that Friday, October 15th, and used my list to check things off as they were packed. I packed most of my clothing that afternoon, which is my usual packing method. Printing up a standard list really helps me remember things and keeps me from worrying about what I am forgetting. I add to and take away from the list each time I return from a trip to keep it fresh and keep from taking unnecessary stuff. On a

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bike, too much stuff just gets in the way and hauling it in and out of motel rooms at night is no fun. By about 4 that afternoon, I had everything packed and was putting final touches on all of my electronics. I loaded the GPS with the trip information the day before and the Sirius satellite radio was installed and working fine. I was counting on it to keep me occupied on this long trip. There are several talk stations that should keep me from boredom. I plugged my cell phone in and decided to test it by calling Patty. I was counting on it working through my communications system so I could talk hands-free while heading down the road. This would be a good distraction and to keep me awake if I got drowsy. I made the call, Patty answered, and nothing. Well S**T. I tinkered with it for a good 20 minutes trying to get it to work but got nothing but static on my end once and a while. I could not figure out what had happened. I could hear my wife talking, very low, but she could not hear me. It worked a few months before on my last long bike trip and here it was Friday afternoon and one of my main support systems was not working. What to do. I sprayed all the connectors with contact cleaner and lubricant, changed connectors and cables and still no good. I finally decided that maybe the last upgrade that I had done to the cell phone had messed things up or maybe the stereo jack needed to be mono instead of stereo. I was grasping at straws and daylight was burning. I decided to do without the cell phone connection and go on and I would have some time on Saturday prior to the trip to try and get it going again. Patty was hanging around trying to help where she could but there was nothing she could do at this point. PPPPPP. I’ll explain later. Patty is a great woman, the best friend I ever had and although I don’t think she understands why anyone would go on such a trip, she supports me in it anyway. I happened to open my top case to put something in and found an envelope that she had snuck into my stuff. It was sealed and said on the front of it “Love Notes for Each Day We’re Apart!” She saw me find it so I pushed it back in when it slid out and she smiled and said I was not supposed to find that until after I left. I could tell she was nervous and rightfully so. A lot can happen on a motorcycle just going down to the store, much less traveling across country and back. I gave her my usual smile and hug and told her everything would be ok. Neither of us really believed that but we kept a stiff upper lip and said our goodbyes and down the road I went. I decided that maybe a Radio Shack adapter might get my backup cell phone working so I stopped by one on the way out of town. I found both mono to stereo and stereo to mono adapters and the guy at the counter said if they don’t work, bring them back. That’s the nice thing about our local Radio Shack, they’ll take most anything back. I ran out to the parking lot and tried the call again. No good. Rats. Once you get accustomed to using a cell phone, it’s hard to do without one. One of the main reasons I put the communications system in the bike was for the hands-free use of the cell phone. Now I was going to spend 7,000 miles without it. Poor planning caught me on this one so I added it to the list when I got back.

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Getting to Jacksonville I decided to split the ride to Jacksonville into two days at 400 miles each. I wanted to do the first 400 on Friday night then finish the ride on Saturday. This would give me Saturday afternoon to find the starting point and get my plans together for the trip. This wound up being a great idea. Evansville Indiana where I live is right on the boarder of Kentucky so I was in another state in no time. I realized right away that I had underdressed for that time of year, October 15th, and made a stop in Henderson Kentucky to gear up. As you might have seen from my list, I took a summer coat and no winter coat. My theory was that I could layer up with my turtle neck, sweater, heated vest, summer jacket then rain suite and stay warm if I needed it. I thought I needed the summer jacket for the southern part of the trip and I didn’t want to take both a summer and winter jacket. Wearing all those cloths was kind of bulky when it was cold but it actually worked fairly well, thanks to my heated vest. I do wish I had taken warmer gloves though. The heated grips on the BMW worked fine but the backs of my hands were still cold. No matter how much you gear up, there always seems to be a gap somewhere that air gets into. I headed on south through Kentucky on the Pennyrile parkway which no longer has a toll but it is still called a parkway. I hit I-24 just before crossing into Tennessee which runs through Nashville and intersects I-75 in Chattanooga. I was planning on stopping in Chattanooga for the night but still had some life left in the old butt so I kept on going to just north of Atlanta. I found an exit with fuel and several motels and grabbed the first one I came to. The guy at the counter had obviously dealt with anal bikers before so he put me in a ground floor room right by a stairwell and said I could park the bike on the sidewalk under the stairwell. That’s a very nice place to be although it wasn’t easy getting the BMW up the sidewalk ramp and into the stairwell. It was however right outside my room and I could keep an eye on the bike. I got up Saturday morning at 5 a.m. Eastern Time in order to start getting on my new schedule. I wanted to be on the road by 6. Before leaving the hotel I opened Patty’s envelop where I found she had 7 little notes neatly folded and taped shut and marked for each day, Saturday thru Friday. I opened Saturday’s note and it said; “Good Morning Ray. Hope you slept well. I miss you and love you! Have a good day. I’m always thinking of you. Love Patty”. This may be a little private to put in this log but what the hell. It’s a part of the trip and I looked forward to opening each day’s note. Although I went on the trip alone, I never felt alone. Patty made sure of that.

The Rhythm Somewhere during this leg I decided that I could do 200 miles in less than 3 hours running at 68 mph or better. If I could push it to 70 plus, then I could stop for fuel and get back on the road in less than 3 hours total. This seemed like a good pace and had potential for the rest of the trip. I also wanted to get accustomed to east coast time (Evansville is central) and hold to the east coast time schedule for the entire trip. Some people said they left Jacksonville at 4:00 a.m. and made the run to San Diego then left there at 6:00 west coast time. That seemed to me to cost you some time with the change

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in time zones and would put you back in Jacksonville very late on day four. East coast time and staying on it for the entire trip was definitely the way to go. I made my first 200 mile leg Saturday morning in 2 hours and 45 minutes. It seemed like things would work out well this way. I spent 10 minutes getting fuel, water and hitting the restroom. I forgot to mention the rest room. On my last trip I didn’t coordinate stops for fuel with restrooms and wound up making twice as many stops. I felt with the limited consumption of water and no beer for the next few days, I could probably make 3 hours between stops. I got back on the road again and finished the 2nd 200 miles in even less time. There was less traffic south of Atlanta than there had been before plus the road between Atlanta and Valdosta is mostly 3 lanes which speeds things up quite a lot. I rolled into Jacksonville at 11:30 a.m., a little ahead of schedule on this 400 mile leg which again made the 200 mile/3 hour rhythm very appealing. I learned a long time ago while in the Marine Corps that you can run any distance (on foot) if you establish a slow, consistent rhythm and hold to it. They call it the “Drill Instructor Shuffle” because Drill Instructors seem to be experts at it. I think that’s what the tortuous used to beat the hair, the drill instructor shuffle. The pace I was considering was not exactly a tortuous pace but a pace that could be monitored at short increments was definitely better than not knowing if I was behind schedule until way too late. I had read somewhere in one of the ride tales on the IBA site “Never think you are ahead of schedule because anything can happen to slow you down.” I think this is a good rule to go by.

PirateJohn As I mentioned earlier, I found a witness for the beginning and end of the trip in Jacksonville named John “PirateJohn” Gilmer through the IBA. John had given me his home address and said to swing by on my way into town and we’d take care of the paperwork so instead of going to the starting point, I went directly to John’s house. The witness form had to be signed close to the beginning but not on the exact time that I left or returned to Jacksonville. John said the IBA uses the fuel receipts to determine the time and the witness form is just verification that I was in the appropriate town at about the right time for the trip. I navigated directly to John’s house using my trusty GPS and could of guessed his house without a house number. I pulled up to one of his garages where he had two BMW’s parked. There was a third in another garage on the side of the house. John is truly a blessed man. The bikes ranged from an old, but well kept, K1 to an almost new K1200LT like mine. John immediately offered me anything I needed including rest, shower, food, directions, his girlfriend (not really but he did say anything) and proceeded to talk 90 miles an hour. It seems John is a very interesting fellow who has been into motorcycles for years. John had done a CC-50 himself once upon a time and considered a CCC-100 but got tied up with buddies in San Diego and never made the return run in time. He has been through 3 wives (I think this is correct) and finally found a girlfriend that had purchased him a bike. Where were girls like that when I was looking? I bought my second wife a bike and when she left she took the bike. I do miss that bike.

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John filled out my witness form and suggested we grab a bite to eat at the World Golf Hall of Fame right down the road. There was a BMW car show going on and it was a great place to get food and beer. That’s all John needed to say, beer, and we were off. I have never been a golf fan but looking at cars and drinking beer is always on my list of most favored things to do. John lead me to a place called “Murray Bros Caddy Shack” which was supposed to be frequented by none other than Bill Murray himself. The beer was cold and the food was good so I was fat and happy, as usual. Well, you know I have never been much of a talker so John took over the conversation and told of former spousal units, lost fortunes, writing books about motorcycle touring and fine eating establishments, and other stuff. Lots and lots of other stuff. I would guess John to be in his early forties and has probably spent most of it in a mid-life crisis. He has a pony tail, too many motorcycles and x-wives (like I am one to talk) and seems to be looking for something spectacular. He has been accused of trying to live the Jimmy Buffett life style by one particular former spousal unit. He spent some time talking about Jacksonville, a town I know little about, and its history. It seems they had recently found some old movie studio buildings that were built in the early 1900’s where the Hollywood film makers started out. It seemed the city council members at that time didn’t like the movie people and kicked them out of town so they moved their studios to Hollywood. This had been forgotten and the old buildings were in disrepair when someone stumbled across the history and what they were used for. John sited this as an example of the backwards thinking people in Jacksonville. He also hated to see the strip along Jacksonville Beach be turned into a series of condos, instead of the small shops and houses it had always been. John has published several books for bikers on dining. John was very interested in my trip to Sturgis last year with my son. As a writer, John wanted to do a piece on Sturgis but needed an angle. I told him about getting there a week before the crowd and how the locals dealt with the on slot of bikes and people. The locals rent out their yards to people from all over the country that come in every year and befriend them. Although they hate the crowds, they see the bikes as their only claim to fame and a way to make money that they would not trade for anything. It keeps things hopping for a couple of weeks in a normally quiet place. John seemed quite interested in this angle and mentioned it several times after that. John is a unique individual and passionate about what he believes in. We drank beer for a while, ate a burger, talked about one brilliant idea after another (mostly John doing the talking) then headed out. I was concerned about the Pensacola area and the down bridge on I-10 so John called and left a voice mail for a friend of his in that area to get a recommendation. He promised to call my cell phone when the friend returned his call. John headed home and I headed for the Shell station to scope out the area for the next morning. On the way to the hotel I ran by a phone store, or two, or three, and stopped to see if I could get an adapter to get things going with the cell phone and communications system. In my haste to leave the house, I had left the adapter that plugs the cell phone into my communications system on the workbench.

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None of the stores had what I needed and directed me to another store thinking they might. By that time the last one had closed so I headed for the beach. I was really counting on being able to use my cell phone while going down the road since I would not have much time during stops or at night. PPPPPP is an old Marine Corps saying that stands for “Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance”. Well, on to the hotel but not before a stop at the local Hooters for another beer and my last casual evening meal for a while. I wasn’t very hungry but the waitress was nice, good looking and the beer was cold so I ordered a sandwich and proceeded to tell her about the trip I was about to go on. She was flirting with some young guys at the next table and I think she was talking to me just to be close to them and hear what they were saying. Of course she thought I was nuts to attempt such a trip but asked me to stop and see her when I got back to Jacksonville. I finally headed down to the Shell station around 9:00 p.m. and asked the attendant whether they would be open in the morning around 6:00 a.m. when I was planning on leaving. Yes they would, she said pointing at the “open 24 hours” sign. The pumps were credit card operated so I should be able to get the required fuel receipt and they had ice and water for the start of my trip. The beach is only 2 blocks from the Shell station so I rode down there just to see how far it was from the parking lot down to the water. The hotel was just 10 blocks or so down the beach. The Best Western Oceanfront was also right on the beach and had several restaurants and bars close by. I checked in and hauled my stuff up to the room. There was a lot of activity up and down the street, it being Saturday night and all, but I wanted to get some rest so I got my gear ready for the morning, ordered a 5:00 a.m. wakeup call and hit the bed. I could not go to sleep so I would up watching some Jack Nicholson movie and falling asleep around midnight. I usually don’t sleep very well in a motel room but did that night for some reason.

The CCC-100 Ride

Starting Out Day One The 5:00 a.m. wakeup call came too early but I was siked up for the trip so the time really didn’t matter. Took a quick shower, brushed teeth, geared up and opened today’s note from Patty. It said; “First day on your journey! Keep alert! I want you back home with me. I love you! Patty”. I put it back in the envelope, smiled and headed for the beach. The ritual most CC-50 or 100 riders follow is to go down to the water just before heading out on the trip and get a small bottle of water with some sand in it. This is done on each coast so at the end of the trip you have three bottles with sand and water representing the start, middle and finish. I had marked each one “JAX1”, “SD” and “JAX2”. The beach is deserted at 5:30 in the morning so not much to tell here. The tide was out and I thought I was never going to get to the water’s edge but I finally found it, getting my boots wet. They are waterproof riding boots though so no problem. I headed back to the bike, packed the bottle of sand and water in my tennis shoe for safe transport and headed for the Shell Station two blocks away.

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I parked in front and tried to go in but it was locked up. They had one of those sliding drawers by the counter where I could ask for what I wanted and the night attendant would get it. All I really needed was my Camelbak filled up with Gatoraide and ice. I told the attendant what I needed and he agreed so I passed my Camelbak in to him through the drawer. He took it to the ice machine and filled it then grabbed a bottle of Gatoraide and rang me out. Once I got it back through the window I realized that he had put the ice in the wrong compartment in the Camelbak. I stood there for a few minutes scooping the ice from inside the backpack part to inside the liquid compartment. I then added the Gatoraide and was ready to go. I pulled the bike over to the pump and filled it up. I logged my start as 5:37 a.m. and I was ready to go except for the receipt. The pump would not print a receipt. What a way to start a timed trip. I went to the attendant, who had now opened the door to talk to the newspaper deliver man, and he said he would print me a receipt. While waiting I hit the ATM just inside the door for $40.00 so I would have an additional receipt just in case. 5:40 a.m. printed on the ATM receipt. The attendant came back with one for 5:35 a.m. so I was in good shape either way. I don’t know which one the IBA will use but with only 5 minutes difference, what the heck. I kneeled down by the bike and said a little prayer. I not a very religious person but felt I needed all the help I could get. At 5:45 a.m. by the clock on the bike I was away. This is logged as stop 1 on my log sheet. I headed out A1A to SR 202 (Butler Blvd.) which took me to I-95 North. The air was cool and it was still dark but there was not much traffic out yet. Once on I-95 north it was just a few miles through Jacksonville to I-10 West. I remembered John cautioning me not to take the ramp to I-10 too fast in my haste to get out of town. The ramp was steep and he had landed in the grass once upon a time trying to make the turn a little too fast I suppose. I headed west, feeling anxious to get down the road and make some time. I had the radar detector on, satellite radio going and I was cruising though I held my speed to 75 until I got out of Jacksonville then let it slip up to 85.

The Speed Award Things were going pretty well and I was making good time until about 7:30 a.m. when I topped a little hill and the radar detector went nuts. There was a policeman sitting in the median and he must have had his radar gun off because the detector picked nothing up until he nailed me. I hit the brakes and decelerated quickly from 85 mph to 70 but it was too late. As I passed him his lights came on. There was no doubt that he was after me since I was the only vehicle on the road. I had been passed by a couple of cars coming out of Jacksonville but nothing in the last ½ hour or so. I pulled to the side and proceeded to unhook my communications cable and get off the bike. Up walked a tall medium built policeman in his early 50’s who promptly asked “Is there an emergency sir?” A thousand things went through my mind to say but all that came out was “No Sir”. The officer asked for my drivers’ license and said he was giving me a ticket for 85 in a 70. I said nothing as he took my license back to his car to write the ticket. Here I was, not 2 hours into the trip and I already had a ticket. I stood there coming to grips with my fate while the officer sat in his car writing the ticket. I finally mustered the nerve to walk back to the car. He looked up at me and I mumbled “I guess there’s no

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way to talk you into giving me a warning, is there?” “No!” he said and went back to finishing the ticket. He handed the ticket out the window and had me sign it. He gave me a copy, an envelope to mail the payment in, my license and asked “Do you have any questions?” “No Sir”, I responded. “Nice Bike” he said. “Thank You” I said and walked back to the bike. I put the ticket in the top case, got back on and headed west. I guess the ticket was a good thing in that it slowed me down and made me a little more cautious. I kept the speed at the high end of the flow of traffic for most of the rest of the trip. People say things happen for a reason and I kept telling myself that maybe there was a reason here. Nothing I could to change it at this point so no need in worrying about it.

Day One on the Road I left Jacksonville without eating breakfast, figuring I would catch something on the road and there was nothing open anyway. I came to an exit right at the 200 mile mark at 8:37 which was close to a little town called Midway Florida just north of Tallahassee. Even though I had lost a few minutes with the ticket, I was still right on the 200 mile/3 hour mark when I stopped and got fuel. I logged this as stop 2 with the pencil I kept in my tank bag and hit the Waffle House across the street. I also wrote the stop number on each fuel receipt to correspond with the log sheet so I could sort them out later. I found out the hard way on my Sturgis trip last year that the ink will rub off the receipt in your wallet on a long trip. I folded each receipt in half with the ink side in so that wouldn’t happen again. One thing about the south is there is a Waffle House at almost every exit. I parked the bike in front of the door and walked into the counter. I caught the first waitress that came by and told her that I was in a hurry and needed two eggs, over medium, bacon, toast with no butter, coffee and water. The no butter part was suggested by the Iron Butt riders and I definitely agree. I hit the restroom and checked some things on the bike while I waited. Although they probably got my food pretty fast, it seemed like an eternity. Everyone and everything seemed to take precious time and was holding me up. Another customer at the counter asked to see my helmet and said he wanted a bike-to-bike communications system for his helmet and wanted to know all about mine. I didn’t have time to talk since I was trying to swallow my food but told him that what I had. It was not what he wanted and I thought he would go on but he wanted to see the helmet again. I took the time to explain that I had an integrated system in the bike and just plugged it in. He wanted a Chatterbox type unit that mounted on the helmet with no communications system on the bike. We talked while I swallowed my breakfast. I thought getting through the Waffle House would be fast but I learned a valuable lesson. I should have eaten before I started the trip. I had money on the counter when my breakfast came and asked the waitress to go ahead and ring me out. This would save me time when I finished. Once done, I grabbed the change, left a tip of course and headed out. I had lost valuable time at this stop and was not happy. Each delay put more stress on me. I was trying to make time but wouldn’t go

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too fast since the ticket was still heavy on my mind. Between the ticket and breakfast, I was probably ½ hour behind where I should have been at that point. The next 200 mile leg didn’t go much better. As I got closer to Pensacola I started to see down and twisted trees on both sides of the road. This was not just a narrow path of a tornado but miles of debris and devastation on both sides of the road. The east bound bridge on I-10 just east of Pensacola was still out from hurricane Ivan. The west bound bridge had been out for 17 days but was open again allowing one-lane traffic each direction. You see the news pictures of the hurricane damage on TV but somehow it doesn’t seem real until you are actually in the area. Buildings were missing roofs and walls, signs along the interstate had been twisted off their I-beam supports and were just leaning up against the remainder of the posts sticking out of the ground. Road crews were clearing debris with big tractors from the sides of the road. Traffic was not too bad on Sunday morning but I didn’t want to take the chance with the I-10 bridge down. I had not heard from PirateJohn so I took the detour and caught exit 31 and hwy 87 up to hwy 90 and across the old bridge. Now things were really going slow and you could see a lot more devastation than you could from I-10. There must have been 100 businesses along hwy 90 that were missing roofs, torn up and vacant. Stop lights were slow to change and traffic was heavy. Things had gone from bad to worse and it seemed like I was making terrible time. I finally got within sight of I-10 again and stopped for fuel before getting back on I-10. This was stop 3 and it was 11:26 and I had gone 395 miles. I was just shy of my second 200 mile/3 hour mark so I breathed a sigh of relief and felt I could do better over the next few segments. As far as I knew there weren’t any more bridges out. I got fuel and water, hit the bathroom and down the road I went. I had been thinking about the cell phone and the connection and started to wonder whether an adapter that I had added earlier in the summer was hooked up wrong. The cell phone and radar detector plugged into a “Y” connector and all I had to do was switch the plugs. The only problem was the connection was located under the back seat and changing it would require an Allen wrench and removal of the seat. I had the Allen wrench with my tools in the side case which should be easily accessible. I decided that it could be done in about 5 minutes at the next stop. I was finally making up time by the time I stopped in Vinton. Florida had turned quickly into Alabama and I made a good 216 miles in less than 3 hours. This time I grabbed a power bar in the store and changed the phone connectors. The change went more quickly than I expected and I was back on the road again. It’s amazing how quick you can do something if you have plenty of time to think it out prior to doing it. On the road I immediately tried to call my wife again. Same situation as before so it was not the connections. The radar detector still seemed to function fine but I needed to put things back. I was afraid that I would mess something else up in my failed attempt to get the phone working. Another seat removal at the next stop was in order if I was still on schedule.

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The next leg through Mobile Alabama, Mississippi, and into Hammond Louisiana was pretty uneventful except for the back pain. I was not looking forward to six more hours of pain that evening but there was nothing I could do. Moving around once and a while helped some but it would eventually come back. Fortunately the traffic was not bad in Mobile, especially since I-10 goes right through the middle of town. Back in the 60’s when most of the interstates were built; I guess they thought it best to run through the middle of towns or maybe the towns lobbied their congressmen to do so. Now the traffic is so bad that the same towns are building by-passes to relieve the traffic. It seems to me this was an all around bad idea and now we’re paying for it again. Who knew? Not much to say about this area except it must have been a lot different before all the casinos came. You would think you were in Vegas. Signs were everywhere for competing casinos, hotels and restaurants. I was doing pretty good on this leg and finally made my stop at Hammond Louisiana at 2:11 p.m. for fuel. This put me 26 minutes and 6 miles ahead of schedule. I had probably made enough cushion time to eat dinner at the next stop. This eased my mind some so I got fuel, water and bathroom and down the road again from stop 4. Traffic in Baton Rouge was not bad for a Sunday afternoon so I breezed on through. The roads in this area of the south are not good though and the bridges go on forever. I thought the 7 mile bridge in the keys was long but there was one between Baton Rouge and Lafayette that must have been twice that. It was over the swamp and seemed to go on forever with a speed limit of 55 for most of it. At least the traffic kept moving. The radar detector kept going off so I kept it pretty close to the speed limit. Once past the bridges things sped up and I started making good time again. I kept an eye on the trip computer and tried to keep the average speed at 75. This had been all but impossible so far this day. On I went though Lake Charles and a stop 5 at Vinton Louisiana, just short of the Texas border. I made Vinton at 5:00 p.m. which put me a full 35 minutes and 6 miles ahead of schedule (I was at the 806 mile mark by my odometer since leaving Jacksonville Beach) so I had time to eat. I saw a sign for fuel and a Subway Sandwich Shop so I pulled in. I got the fuel but the subway was closed down. I grabbed a bag of pretzels; power bar, water, switched the wires for the communications system under the rear seat back. Dinner would have to wait for the next stop. I tried to relieve the pain in my back by doing some stretching but to no avail. On to the next stop I went, pain and all. I should not have tried to eat pretzels in a full face helmet while zipping down the interstate? It was not a good idea. I ate about half the pretzels which were hard to get over the chin part of my helmet and kept having to drink water so I finally gave them up and ate the power bar. It was probably the best thing anyway in that it perked me up. I had not noticed it but I was getting tired and my back was hurting worse. I could no longer get comfortable in the seat and almost any way I sat caused my back to hurt. I finally found that if I sat my butt all the way back on the seat, leaned forward on the handle bars with my arms straight and my shoulder blades pressed together, it would take

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pressure off my back. My neck muscles burned but that pain was better than the pain in my back. I longed for the back rest that was sitting in my attic that went with my Corbin seat but the then again the Corbin was so hard that it was probably worse. My newly built seat was actually doing fine, except for my butt burning. I felt a saddle start to wear into the seat where my butt had been riding for the last three days. The saddle molded to my butt and fit well but still started burning after a few hours in it. The sheepskin did not seem to be doing much either but later on I found it was better than sitting on the vinyl. I was finally in Texas. I had never heard of Orange Texas but that was the first town I came into. Access roads were on both sides of the interstate with lots of businesses lining them. About that time I noticed the 880 mile marker which meant it was 880 miles to the other side of Texas. I had a long road ahead of me. Orange gave way to Beaumont which I have heard of. I don’t really know what’s there and was traveling too fast to find out but at least I had heard of it. The landscape had not changed yet and was still swampy as I made my way around the gulf coast to Houston. I expected Houston to be bad but it wasn’t as I ran right through the middle of town with no problems. Traffic was heavy but it was moving fast and was not nearly as bad as Atlanta had been a few days before. It was getting late in the afternoon and the clouds were getting thicker and it started raining. I stopped along the side of the road and put my rain gear on. I had two tie-up plastic rain bonnets to cover the GPS, Sirius radio and radar detector with. I tied them on and off again. The bonnet over the Sirius/radar detector lasted until I got to about 70 miles an hour before blowing off. I guess I didn’t do a good job of tying them on. The one on the GPS seemed to hold. I kept on going since the rain didn’t seem to be getting on the Sirius. The aerodynamics of the BMW is great and most of the time you can run through moderate rain and never need rain gear as long as your speed is above 50 mph. My gloves were getting wet but that’s about all and it only rained for ½ hour or so than I was out of it. Just shy of Columbus Texas I passed the 1,000 mile mark on the odometer. I had made the first 1,000 miles in 14 hours and 17 minutes. My son and I did 1,171 miles in 17 hours and 30 minutes on the Sturgis trip the year before. I had made better time and cut down on the number of stops I had made. A single rider without a passenger I could go 200 miles without stopping where I had to stop about every 100 miles with my son. I don’t think I could have done that with someone on the back. Our bladders were never on the same schedule. If I had not stopped to eat, ran around construction on I-10 and got a ticket, I would have been in the 12 to 13 hour range. I stopped at Columbus, stop 6, and fueled. I was hungry and was still running 35 minutes ahead of schedule so I decided to grab a salad at the Denny’s across the street from the gas station. For some reason a flock of birds had decided to nest in some trees right next to the gas station. It was like you were in the Alfred Hitchcock movie “The Birds”. They were swarming around the trees and making the biggest racket I had ever heard. There

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must have been 10,000 of them. People were standing around on both sides of the street watching them, for what reason, I don’t know. I headed on across the street to the Denny’s and performed the same maneuver that I had that morning in the Waffle House. I went in and told the girl at the counter that I was in a hurry and needed a salad with chicken on it with water to drink and was going to the restroom. This also gave me a chance to get out of the rain gear. The girl at the counter seemed surprised by my request and in no big hurry but put the order in anyway. I hit the bathroom and went back to the bike for a minute to organize my gear. When I went back in there was no salad could be seen. I sat at the counter and tried to be patient but it was hard. I was burning time and every minute spent there meant a minute less of sleep time that night. I could see my salad on the pickup counter in the back but the waitress was busy with one of the other employees and didn’t know it was ready. I finally got up and ask her if it was mine. She seemed bothered that I had asked and sent the other employee after it. I gave him some money and asked to be cashed out and started wolfing down the salad. What do people not understand about “I am in a hurry”? A good 20 minutes later and I was on the road again. I had burnt valuable time but needed the food. Power bars work but it had been a long time since breakfast. San Antonio was my next obstacle. I had routed around San Antonio on the GPS, based on the advice of others on the iron butt site, but somehow missed the exit. Next thing I knew I was in the biggest mess of turns and overpasses I had ever seen. I also missed the sign to get on the elevated section of I-10 that bypasses the exits and local traffic so I had to fight my way through the mess. I was tired and frustrated that I had missed my exit to bypass this and stressed out and needed rest. I had another 2 hours of riding before I could rest for the night and it was going to be a long two hours. Once I finally got out of San Antonio I thought things would be easy. Wrong again. Next thing I knew there were police cars in the median and several people standing outside their cars hugging and crying. I think someone had hit one of the dog-sized deer that are everywhere in west Texas. I had been warned about them and sure enough there were blood stains about every mile or so on the road. Here I was riding along at freeway speeds, at night, in west Texas with blood stains from deer everywhere. What a place to be. Needless to say I was so nervous that I couldn’t move. I was focused on the road and ran with my bright light on. My back was killing me and my shoulder muscles were burning. I was tired and I had to make it to Kerrville before retiring for the night. I came upon a group of three semi’s running together at about 70 so I fell in behind them. I don’t like running behind semi’s and I am sure they didn’t like me back there either but I figured they would block anything in the road before it got to me, or maybe scare it away with all their noise. I ran in the left lane as much as I could because most of the blood spots were in the right and followed the semis. As the night wore on so did I. When I would start to get sleepy I would get into my tank bag and get out one of the lemon drops Patty had gotten for me. I made a major mistake packing though. At my request Patty had purchased two bags of beef jerky and one bag of lemon drops for me for the trip. I decided I could put the lemon drops in a zip lock

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bag with one of the bags of jerky and save some space. I thought the zip lock bag would be easier to get into than the bag they had came in. Well the bag was easier but I had not counted on the lemon drops melting in the sun the day before while in Jacksonville. They were all stuck together and I had to break them apart while wearing gloves and riding down the road, getting sticky stuff all over my gloves. Have you ever tried to lick lemon drop sticky stuff off your gloves in a full face helmet at night going down the road at 70 plus miles an hour following semis while watching for deer? My advice is “don’t try it”. I was getting pretty good at counting the mileage off my odometer by now. The 200 mile legs were easy to keep track of and the 3 hour schedule made it even better. The rhythm was working well. The stress of watching for deer however took its toll and I was glad when I finally saw the sign for Kerrville and got off the interstate. Some said they made Van Horn Texas the first night which is 1,500 miles from Jacksonville. I don’t know how they did it. I was beat after 1,200 miles and was going no farther that night. I had planned Kerrville because it was not only ½ way but also had a Best Western hotel, and several other hotels, at that exit. After Kerrville, the exits are few and far between with few hotels until Van Horn. I fueled the bike and hit the hotel. It was 11:20 east coast time which put me on the road for almost 18 hours and 1,203 miles according to the odometer. This was stop 7. I didn’t have a reservation but there were rooms available. I checked in and asked the lady at the counter about security. She said Kerrville was a small town and had virtually no crime and put me in a ground floor room around back where I could park the bike right in front of the room. When I got to the room there were a couple of guys on the second floor sitting in lawn chairs talking and drinking beer. They watched me unpack the bike and head in. I hoped the lady was right about it being a safe place. I had packed fairly light so getting in the room was quick. I called the desk and asked for a 4:00 a.m. wakeup call. I was now in the central time zone and that would be 5:00 a.m. eastern time so I would actually be getting up at my normal time. I then called my wife to let her know I had safely landed for the day. I also checked my voice mail and there was a message from PirateJohn. He said his friend recommended staying on I-10 instead of using the bypass because of the stop lights and traffic. He said the delays on I-10 were usually not bad and I wished I had this information earlier today. After a long day I am usually so wound up that it takes a while to doze off but not that night.

Day two The next thing I knew the phone was ringing with the wakeup call. 5:00 a.m. seemed like it came in a matter of seconds after I went to bed. I had been dreaming of some motorhome trip where I kept getting it stuck. I have no idea where that came from, as is the case with most of my dreams. I got a good 5 hours of sleep so I felt I would be fine and sticking with the 5:00 a.m. eastern schedule keep me in a routine. I do not require as much sleep these days as I did when I was young. My teenagers can sleep for 15 hours straight but I seldom sleep more than 7.

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My butt was sore from the day before but the worst part was where my legs connect to my butt. My boxers had ridden up into the crack between my butt and legs and rubbed that area raw. I had some rider’s shorts in my bag so I decided to wear them for day two. Why did I wait until after the damage was done to put them on I’ll never know? Note to self: start the trip with rider’s shorts. I grabbed a shower, packed the bike and opened today’s note from Patty. It said; “You should be in Texas by now. Keep on truckin… You’ll be half way by tonight. I miss you!! Patty”. I smiled again and went to check out of the hotel. The night lady had just set up fresh coffee and fruit so I grabbed a small cup of coffee and a banana. It was still dark and in the low 50’s so I put my rain gear on over my other gear to keep the wind out. I got on I-10 and headed west at about 6:00 a.m. eastern. Staying on Eastern Time was probably one of the better decisions I had made. No conversions except when requesting wakeup calls and everything was based on the clock on the BMW. It was still dark and the deer were probably out so I found a couple of semis and lay in behind them in the left lane as I had the night before. I knew they would not like it but I needed every advantage I could find. By 7:30 the sun had started coming up on my back and I could break away from the trucks and pick up a little speed. They had been running in the low 70’s but I needed a little more speed that that in order to make time. Now that the sun was up I noticed how much the landscape had changed since the night before. West Texas is mostly ranch land in the desert with gently rolling hills covered with grass in the higher altitudes and cactus in the lower. The air was dry and cool and my heated vest and grips came in very handy. The seat is also heated but I seldom use it. With the aerodynamics of the BMW the wind chill is minimized so if I can keep my hands warm, I am usually fine. The vest is only needed if the temperature is below 60. All of a sudden my Sirius radio and radar detector, which are mounted on an add-on shelf on the dash, started vibrating heavily. The shelf is fastened on the dash with two screws, one on either side, on long arms. The arms wrap around to the front of the dash screws that hold the dash on. One of the screws had come out and that side was moving up and down. I was sure the screw was gone and I had no extra screws so I spent the remainder of that 200 mile leg considering my options for tying it back on. I had some wire ties in my side case so I thought might be able to put one around the leg and tie it to something on the dash to keep the shelf from vibrating. I was afraid the vibration would cause the other screw to come out too and then there would be nothing to do but remove the shelf and stow it for the remainder of the trip. I considered taking a screw out of somewhere else that would not matter as much like one of the main side panels but that would take precious time. There are plenty of screws in the sides and one would probably not affect anything. Problem was the missing screw was an allen head and most of the other screws on the bike were Torx. Torx was fine but there was no way to get a Torx driver into the spot where the screw went. That’s probably the reason BMW used the Allen head since an Allen wrench will fit into that area. When I hit my 200 mile mark I started looking for an exit with fuel. I finally came on one close to McCamey Texas for stop 8. There was not a town there but a single old no-

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name gas station. There was however dozens of large power generating wind mills on two bluffs to the north. I had seen this type of windmills before in the valley pass just west of Palm Springs on I-40. The windmills were so large and there were so many of them that I figured they must have been constructed by a large electric company. I had no idea that Fort Stockton was right down the road or I would have waited another few miles to stop. I was hungry as the banana had worn off but there was only one gas station and no restaurants at the exit. The gas station was very small with only one pump but at the same time it wasn’t busy. As I was fueling up I happened to look over to the left side of the bike just below the windshield at one of the clear wind deflectors. There, stuck behind the wind deflector, was the missing screw. It had slid behind the deflector and was caught by the head of the screw, keeping it in place instead of falling on the road. It was hard to believe that the screw didn’t fall to the ground. I finished fueling the bike, logged my stop and walked into the gas station to get a cup of coffee. The lady inside was very friendly and said there was a fresh pot. Two old men were sitting at a small table by the door and acknowledged me as I came in by giving me an once-over. The coffee was warm and tasted good on my empty stomach. There was nothing to eat in the store but snack food so I passed and went back out to fix the dash shelf and eat a granola bar left from the day before. I tried to keep at least one in my tank bag at all times incase I got hungry or tired. I found that keeping your blood sugar up is very important to ward off fatigue. I got my trusty Allen wrench out and put the screw back in but not before dropping it on the ground and almost loosing it. All the time the two old men were watching from the window, not saying a word. Several ranchers came in and out while I was working on the bike. These guys were obviously real Texas ranchers, not the type you see on TV with fancy boots and hats. There were wearing regular blue jeans, flannel shirts, cowboy hats, and dusty boots, driving Ford pickup trucks and talking on cell phones. Each would nod and acknowledge me as they came by but then go on about their business. The screw was not hard to get back in but the space is tight and you can only get 1/6th of a turn on the Allen wrench at a time so it took a while. There had been a spacer behind the screw that I was sure was long gone so I put the screw in without the spacer and tightened the screw up as best I could. I put the wrench away and finished most of the coffee and off I went. No more vibrating shelf and what a stroke of luck finding the screw. Little did I know at the time that the spacer had also caught in a small cavity behind the windshield and was waiting for me to find it when I got home? The spacer would eventually ride 5,200 miles and not vibrate out of the spot it was in. I took my rain gear off, called Patty to let her know I was ok and on the road again making good time. The coffee had perked me up and finding the screw had given me new hope for the day. The towns and exits were few and far between. One nice feature of I-10 through the desert is the signs at each exit stating the distance to the next services. I could run the full 200 miles without worrying about running out of fuel due to no exits as long as I paid attention to the signs. I would start looking for an exit just before the

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200 mile mark which gave me a good 50 miles before I had a problem. Most of the time there was an exit no farther than 28 miles apart. I made the 1,500 mile mark right at 10:00 a.m. that morning at 28 hours and 23 minutes into the trip. At that point I had achieved another IBA milestone, 1,500 miles in less than 36 hours. My son and I had done 1,000 miles in less than 24 hour ride but this was another level and this was the first major milestone on the trip. My back was still bothering with a pain right in the middle of my spine that would not go away. Leaning forward on the handle bars and pushing my shoulders up was the only relief I could get. I came to Van Horn Texas, stop 9, just shy of my next 200 mile mark and was tired and hungry. It was not quite time to stop yet but I was also afraid the stops would be few and far between after I passed Van Horn. I stopped for fuel and took some Excedrin with my lunch. Excedrin was the only pills I took on this trip and I only took them three times. I carried some no-doze with me but never used them. The Excedrin seemed to ease the back pain for a while or at least take the edge off it. Van Horn had several exits and I found one with a Wendy’s where I could get a chicken salad. I had read something on the IBA website that you should stay away from hamburgers and fries so I decided to take their advice for a change. I had missed my normal bacon, eggs and toast for breakfast so the salad was definitely needed. I was about 30 minutes ahead of schedule even with the repair to the dash shelf and there were no large cities to go through to slow me down so far this morning so I was making good time. I got in and out of the Wendy’s pretty quick and on down the road I went. If I had known that was the only descent meal I was going to get that day I would have probably opted for something with more meat in it. Van Horn is just 140 miles from the border of New Mexico and the town of El Paso Texas. I was really looking forward to getting out of Texas. The miles flew by and I noticed that I was not nearly as stressed out as I was the day before. It appeared that I was going to make it to San Diego on schedule that night, baring any mechanical failures. I fully expected a flat tire along the way and even packed a flat repair kit just in case. The kit will allow you to plug a tire and fill it with air but it is only a temporary repair. If that happened I would need to find the nearest motorcycle repair shop and get a proper patch put on the inside and that would really slow me down or even cause me to abort the trip. I had plenty of time to consider my options if something major happened. I could go on to San Diego when the bike was repaired then try the CC-50 again from there. On the other hand if the break happened on the return leg, I would probably just head northeast and home, having made the CC-50 alone. I kept this in the back of my mind since I am not the type to do detailed contingency plans. I do at least want to have something in mind just in case but as it worked out, the screw was the closest thing to a breakdown that I had. I rolled through El Paso around noon their time and I expected heavy traffic but it wasn’t bad. In fact it was kind of nice to see a town again after all the wide open spaces of

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Texas. Just north of El Paso I crossed into New Mexico and the mile markers went to 162 which is the distance across New Mexico on I-10. That sounded a lot better than the 880 miles I had just ridden across Texas. One fuel stop in New Mexico and I would be in Arizona then California. I was starting to see light at the end of the tunnel. Just north of El Paso is Las Cruces New Mexico which I had heard of but never visited. I am sure Dad probably went through Las Cruces I was a kid traveling from California to Kentucky and back but don’t know for sure. Anyway, from I-10 there is not a lot to see in Los Cruces but a few gas stops and where I-25 splits off and heads north.

Combating Boredom on the road I had set the GPS that morning for Ocean Beach, California so it was counting down the mileage to that destination. I really didn’t need the GPS for navigation unless I ran into a traffic jam and needed an alternate route. I had used it several times going through Atlanta when I ran into backups due to construction. Routing around an obstruction is quite a handy feature. I mostly used the GPS as a distraction and something to do on the road. The Sirius radio had come in quite handy for that too. I had two classic rock stations set on the presets along with Fox and CNN news. I would listen to music for a while then when I got bored turn over to Fox and listen to the latest talk on the presidential election. That worked well late at night when you can’t really see the scenery and have to focus on the road for long periods. If I could find a talk show and get into the conversation then I would tend to stay more alert than with just music. I hate all the crap that is going back and forth between the presidential candidates but I guess that’s what the American public wants. The only problem I had with the Sirius was placement of the antenna. When I left home I had it in a compartment under my tank bag which BMW calls the “Oddments Box”. That’s the same place I keep my cell phone and I found once I was on the road that my cell phone would block the signal for the Sirius. I tried moving it around but no good. I finally pulled the antenna out of the oddments box and laid it on top of the tank bag. It has a small coax cable that attaches to the radio which I had routed under the fairing. The cord was long enough and it seemed to do a lot better there than it had in the box. The only problems were that it slid around and I had to be careful with it when opening the oddments box not to kink the coax cable. My beef jerky came in handy as well. Usually in the afternoon or early evening I would break into it. The two bags Patty had packed did me the entire trip. I hate paying the five dollar price for jerky but it lasts a while and it’s easy to transport. The only problem is getting it in my mouth through the front of my full face helmet. I would lift the visor and try to stuff it down through that opening. Once I not only stuffed the jerky in my mouth but my boom microphone as well. I really need to tie the microphone to the chin of my helmet where it will raise and lower with the chin part of the helmet. It’s always in the way and getting caught on things. I had meant to do something about it before the trip but ran out of time.

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My legs were starting to get stiff from being in the bent position for so long. The foot pegs on the K1200LT are a little high and it’s almost impossible to stretch your legs out. I had a set of road pegs on the bike when I purchased it but the body of the bike is so wide that using them was also uncomfortable. My legs would be so far apart from reaching around the tank and fairing that my hips would pop out of joint. I eventually took them off and they’re still on the shelf in my garage. I tried moving my feet around but it was hard to do. I finally put them back on the passenger pegs for a while and that helped. Anything to change positions helps and provides relief for a while. I thought about the run and why I was doing it. There was not a clear answer to this except that it was considered “Extreme” and sometimes I have to do something on the edge just to maintain my sanity, or make me feel like a man, or set me out from the crowd, or just for the hell of it. I don’t really know but I was well into it now. I could almost see San Diego in the distance and wasn’t slowing down for anything. I wanted to be on the coast by midnight eastern time which would give me a good 6 hours to sleep before making the return run. I toyed with the idea of getting up at the normal 5 a.m. to leave but decided that 6:00 a.m. and an extra hour would be good for my tired body.

Run to the coast I came on my next 200 mile mark at a little town called Deming New Mexico for stop number 10. I saw the exit sign and there was gas and food so I got off. Usually there are signs giving the distance to the particular service in 10’s of a mile but there were no signs here except one pointing right to fuel. I turned right and it was about a mile into the town of Deming. As I came into town there were 25 mph signs in several spots. Ok, this was a speed trap town and the reason there were not signs with distances at the exit is nobody would go that far if they posted it. I came to an intersection and there was a little convenience store with fuel across the street. I pulled up to the pump, filled up and logged the stop and pulled to the front of the store. There were no fast food restaurants in this town, just a couple of greasy spoons that looked pretty run down and closed. There was a policeman talking to a girl outside the door of the store and he kept an eye on me the whole time I was filling up and in the store. He made me a little nervous so I just grabbed another bottle of water, a power bar and hit the road again. I made sure I obeyed the traffic signs and speed limits getting back to the freeway. One ticket was enough and I definitely don’t want locked up in a one-house town. South New Mexico was very sparsely populated and not much good for anything but ranching or mining. The miles rolled on without much to do or look at and I counted down the mile markers until New Mexico turned into Arizona. One more state to go and I would be in California. I crossed the 2,000 mile mark near the town of Benson Arizona which I couldn’t see from the interstate but the GPS told me it was somewhere in the area. My time for the 2,000 mile portion was 35 hours and 11 minutes. That doesn’t leave much time for grass to grow under you. The mountains of Arizona are fabulous and I enjoy looking at them. I always wanted to go and climb one but I had no time now. Maybe I can try that on another trip someday.

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I passed signs for “Historic Tombstone” Arizona. Some friends and went there a few years ago and it was in fact a historic town. Not much had changed since the late 1800’s. I had an urge to stop by and see if Big Nose Kate’s Saloon was still there but there was no time. I had 400 more miles to go and a goal to make. My next 200 mile mark came up just on the outskirts of Tucson where I stopped at a little convenient store and got in and out as quickly as I could for stop 11. It was just after 3 p.m. local time and I was about to hit rush hour traffic so I needed to get on through town as quickly as possible. Traffic was heavy and slowed down in Tucson but never stopped. I was still running ½ hour ahead of schedule, if there is such a thing as being ahead of schedule on this trip, so I was in pretty good shape. I could see mount Lemon on my right as I went through Tucson and remembered taking a trip up it on motorcycles. Traffic stayed heavy through Tucson and on to the split of I-8 just south of Phoenix. I-10 turn’s northwest in Tucson and heads for Phoenix while I-8 splits off and heads west to San Diego. I took the I-8 split and was headed west again. One more fuel stop left before San Diego. I was starting to get excited that I had made the run and everything was going well. As I ran across western Arizona farms sprang up with lots of hay and cattle. There were a lot more farms than I had remembered last time I was on I-8. The land was very flat and mostly desert but with irrigation I guess what they say is right “add water and the desert will grow anything”. The feeder lots were stuffed with cows with hay stacked everywhere and the smell of manure went on forever. My next 200 mile leg ended in Wellton Arizona for stop 12. I had started pushing the miles between stops up a little, adding 20 or so to each one so I could hit the coast without an extra stop. This put me at 2,262 miles for this one leaving 213 to the coast, according to the GPS. I grabbed gas, water and another granola bar and headed out for my last leg. I had not eaten since lunch but didn’t want to stop now. The jerky in my tank bag would have to do. The GPS estimated my arrival time in Ocean Beach at 11:30 p.m. east coast time, 8:30 p.m. pacific time. That would put me at around 42 hours for the first CC-50 run, based on rough calculations in my head. I had plenty of time to do the math especially with nothing to see but desert and cows. The sun was in my face as it was going down over the mountains. I made it through Yuma Arizona and crossed into California. At last I had 200 miles to the coast and I was really excited now. I ate some more jerky and my granola bar, which was really terrible, and kept on running. I decided to give a friend of mine in San Diego, Chris Wolfe, a call to let him know I would be in town for a short while but how? The cell phone was not working with my communications system and I wasn’t going to stop to make the call. I finally took my glove off and stuck it under me on the seat (an old trick to keep it from blowing away) and proceeded to make the call. I had his number on one of my quick-dial buttons so it was pretty easy. Once the call started, I put my phone on speakerphone and shoved it between my visor and face then shut my visor. It sat right there on my right cheek and I heard it ringing. Chris answered and I proceeded to tell him what I was doing and where I was. He immediately asked why I was doing such a crazy thing and I had no answer. Because it was there, I guessed? He wished me well on my trip and asked that I give him

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more notice next time I was coming to town. I will see him at convention in November so I’ll tell him the whole story then. This new skill with my cell phone worked so well I decided to call my wife. I managed to get the phone out of the visor and back in for another call without dropping it. She was thrilled that I had finally found a way to call her. Up to this point the calls had been few and far between. When I made stops, I was so focused on getting back on the road that I seldom remembered to take time to call and when I did it was very short. I could talk as long as I wanted now and still make good time. I had a low-tech hands-free setup here. I had also been thinking about the offer David Shealey, the IBA member that was meeting me in San Diego, had made. He said he would meet me at the Shell station in Ocean Beach the next morning at 6:00 a.m. on his way to work. That is when most riders leave for the east-bound CC-50. Well, I wanted to keep on schedule with east coast time and leave no later than 7:00 a.m. eastern time which was 4:00 a.m. pacific. I doubted David wanted to get up that early and at the same time I didn’t want to waste the extra 2 hours on the overall trip length to get going on the return leg. I called David’s cell phone but no answer so I left him a message asking if he could meet me that night since I would be in around 8:30. I headed across the rest of the California desert, past Ocotillo and started up the mountains. I-8 as it gets a little windy and by that time it was dusk so I slowed down a little. About that time two riders on BMW sport bikes passed me and waved. This might not have been a big deal but I could have probably counted the cars that passed me over the last 40 hours on the fingers on one hand. No bikes had passed me except one crotch rocket in San Antonio. They obviously knew the road well and were making the most of their knowledge. I flashed my lights at them as they went by and noticed my low beam was not putting out much light. In fact, it had gone out and now I had to run with my bright lights on since there was no place to get a new bulb until San Diego.

The Fog I ran on up the mountain where close to the top the BMW riders took an exit. About that time it started sprinkling but I was running 75 so I wasn’t getting wet. I thought about stopping and putting my rain gear on but maybe it would not rain long. It never rains in southern California, you know? Chris said the rain had stopped there so I wasn’t expecting the rain to continue but the farther I went, the harder it got. I came over the top of a hill and passed an exit for Jacumba and all of a sudden I hit a wall of fog that was so thick I couldn’t see. I hit the brakes and slowed to what must have been 15 mph and luckily there was nobody close behind me. My lights were on bright so I dimmed them but then it was dark. The bright lights made it impossible to see more than 10 feet in the fog and my face shield was fogged up. I raised the shield but the rain was hitting me in the eyes so it was worse than before. This was an accident with a place to happen and I was going to get hit. I pulled over to the side of the road to collect my thoughts and get into my raingear. I tried to turn my emergency flashers on, which I had never used, and realized on the BMW that you must have your key on to turn them on. There I was in the dark on the

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side of the road in the fog. Someone must have been watching over me because I don’t know how else I made it through. Once the flashers were on, I found they will stay on when you turn the key off. Now that I was stopped, my electronics were getting wet. I really need waterproof electronics or some type of covers but there was nothing I could do right now. When it starts raining you don’t want to have to worry about your electronics getting wet. I put the remaining rain bonnet over the GPS and put the Sirius and radar detector in the side bag. I wrestled my rain gear on while thinking about what to do about the fog and my fogged up visor. Several cars and semis passed me then I got an idea. I got on the bike, fired it up and waited. Finally a semi passed that had shiny stainless steel rear doors. That was my ticket and I fell in behind him. My face shield was still fogging up and wiping it made it worse. Raising the face shield caused the rain to hit me in the eyes and I couldn’t see. I finally realized there is a notch on this particular helmet that allows you to extend the face shield straight out leaving an air gap at the top and bottom seal. This allowed air to circulate behind the shield and stopped the fogging problem on the shield. The air came in but the water didn’t. My face was pretty wet and so was the inside of the helmet but at least I could see. A semi was my salvation again. I followed him for a good 30 miles down the hill to El Cajon where the rain and fog stopped. I learned several important lessons that night that I won’t soon forget:

1. Know your bike and how the emergency flashers work. 2. Know your helmet and how to clear fog. 3. Put your rain gear on before it starts raining. 4. Get waterproof electronics.

I was quite relieved when the rain stopped and the fog cleared. It was still cloudy and some of the clouds were hanging at what seemed like 50 feet but at least there was no fog. It was literally down hill from here. I opened my oddments box and checked my cell phone and David had called and left a message. I called him and he said he would be glad to run out to Ocean Beach and meet me. I didn’t realize at the time that meant a 20 something mile run for him but that’s what he did. I ran to the end of I-8 which drops off to city streets just a few blocks from the Shell station at Ocean Beach. I pulled in to the Shell station at 11:29 p.m. and pumped just enough fuel to get a receipt for stop 13. I needed a receipt and another in the morning when I departed so I left room in the tank for additional fuel. I pulled over to the front of the station and got off the bike, tired but excited and relieved that I had made the first half of the trip safely. I was pretty nervous up on the hill in the fog but I was in Ocean Beach now and life was good again. The station attendant was standing out front smoking and asked where I was from. I told him and about the trip I was on and he asked if I wanted him to witness my paperwork for me. I was surprised he knew about the CCC-100 but then he told me about the group in the spring that had come through. He said about 2,000 riders (I doubt it was that many but it probably seemed that way to him) had came through and they had set up tables for witness forms and ran the riders through. I told him I had someone on the way but thanks anyway. I called Patty to let her know I had

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made it and talked for a few minutes while waiting for David to show up. I tried to make some rough calculations on my time for the CC-50 but realized I was not thinking too clearly. The more I worked with the numbers, the more mistakes I made so I finally gave up and started fumbling with my gear. David pulled up on a black K1200LT in full gear and from the looks of him; he was definitely a seasoned rider. He said he had 100,000 miles on his first K1200LT when he wrecked it and the insurance company settled with him so he bought the black one. Seems like he said he had 30,000 miles on it now so the 20 something mile ride in was probably nothing for him. David filled out my witness forms and told me about his rear end failing on his CC-50 run and how he wanted to try it again. As I said earlier, I was nervous about the rear end on mine but again the failure rate is only 4% so that’s not something to be overly concerned with. David told me how to get to the beach to get my sand and water and we both took off in different directions. I eased my way down the few blocks to the beach where there was a small park at the end of Newport Ave.. I parked the bike, got my bottle out and walked to the water. I had forgotten that it was early in California and there were lots of college age kids at the bars along Newport Ave. and on the sidewalk. I had an urge to stop in one of the bars and get a beer but I needed sleep more than beer. It was 12:30 eastern by now and I was worn out. As I walked down to the water there were homeless people crowded around a fire sitting on the sand. They paid little attention to me and went on with their conversations. The tide was out and it was hard to see but I finally got to the water and scooped my bottle full of sand and water getting my boots wet again. Back at the bike I packed my second bottle in my tennis shoe and headed for the hotel. The hotel was just a few miles away I-8 where I came from. There is an area on I-8 just past the junction of I-5 called Hotel Circle where you can usually find a cheap room. I pulled into a Motel 6 where there was a parking spot right in front of the office. I went in and the girl at the counter checked me into a room for $49.99 which was a lot better than the $109 that I had paid in Jacksonville. Of course this hotel wasn’t on the beach but at that point, I really didn’t care. I asked for a 3:00 a.m. wakeup call (6:00 a.m. Eastern) and she thought I was nuts. I explained that I was still on Eastern Time and what I was doing. She said she couldn’t see how I could calculate the difference and the funny thing is, she wasn’t even blonde. I asked about security and if the bike would be safe where I parked and she said they had an all-night security guard that would be in the office so it should be fine. I grabbed my bags and headed for the room. I had been excited earlier but now I was tired and just wanted a bed. I sat my clothes and helmet on the air conditioner by the window so they would dry out from the rain and hit the bed. It might have taken me 30 seconds to go to sleep but I doubt it.

Day three I was awake for about 10 minutes or so when the phone rang with the wakeup call. It would have been really easy to hang it up and go back to sleep for a day or two then take

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the slow road home. I got out of bed and took my usual shower. This was Tuesday morning and I had not combed my hair since I lost my comb on Sunday. I guess it came out of my pocket when I pulled my wallet out for a fuel stop and wearing the helmet all day made my hair stick out in every direction anyway so what the heck. I had brought a hat to wear but didn’t even bother putting it on. I had not shaved since Friday so my beard was getting long by now since there was not enough room on the bike for a razor, you know. I packed my mostly-dry stuff up and opened Patty’s note for the day. It said;” Heading back to the east coast… Did you know that my life is empty without you? Be safe! I love you! Patty”. What a woman! When I opened the door to the room, it was raining cats and dogs. It had not rained in San Diego for 180 days and had started non-stop rain just a few days ago. I stopped this time and put my rain gear on and headed for the bike. Like the girl had said the night before, a guard was in the lobby and the bike was in clear view so everything was fine. I loaded up and headed back to the Shell station for my required fuel receipt and stop 14. I finished filling the bike up, got the fuel ticket, zeroed my trip odometer and hit the road. Credit card pumps have cut down the time it takes to fuel up. I always hated walking in the store and waiting in line to pay. I never deal with an attendant if I can help it. I kneeled down by the bike again for another prayer and headed out. There was very little traffic in San Diego that morning. I guess there aren’t many people out at 4:00 a.m. or I was just lucky. It was 7:00 a.m. Eastern Time though and I was an hour behind my normal departure schedule. I hoped that I could make it up that day and make Kerrville Texas by 11:30 or so in order to get more sleep that night. I was doing ok on the amount I was getting but a little more would be good. The rain followed me out of San Diego and up through El Cajon. The fog started getting worse at the Alpine exit so I pulled the same trick I had the night before. I came up on two semis running about 60 and tagged in behind them. The fog wasn’t as bad as it was the night before so running 60 was not a problem especially with the light from the two semis in front of me. The rain never let up until we headed down the hill into the desert. Once it stopped it didn’t take long for the desert air to dry things out and I was back up to freeway speeds and running strong. From this point on I never considered cutting my trip short and heading home. I had made it better than ½ way and was going to do my best to finish the trip. The sun was up by the time I made it to Yuma which was just a little shy of my 200 mile leg so I caught an exit for breakfast. There was construction on one of the exits which slowed traffic and a McDonalds at the top of the ramp so I stopped for fuel and food for stop 15. I got fuel, receipt and ran across the street for eggs for breakfast. I was pretty hungry from the night before and the hotel had nothing that morning, not even coffee, in the lobby. I was lucky in there was only one guy in line in McDonalds so I pulled my usual quick-draw order, paid and headed for the restroom while waiting for my food. I got the eggs, sausage, hash browns and coffee. I wolfed the food down and drank ½ of the coffee and headed out to the bike. I shouldn’t have eaten the sausage and hash browns because they didn’t sit well on my stomach. Note to self: Stay away from greasy

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food on the road. I pulled the rain gear off and headed back down I-8. I had burnt 20 minutes for the stop but I really needed the food. I settled in for the day with my usual 200 mile/3 hour rhythm. The same farms I had passed the day before seemed to fly by faster. I guess I was in a different mode of thinking and by day three I was into the groove. I had made the first CC-50 portion of the ride so I had accomplished part of the goal and knew that I could make 1,200 miles a day. I had not realized it the night before but I had gone from “wanting to do a CC-50” to “having done a CC-50” and that was a great feeling. I could do this trip and I never considered cutting the trip short again. I was going to make Jacksonville. After Jacksonville, I might head home or I might go to Biketoberfest for a while, but I’d decide that when I got there based on how tired I was. I made it to the I-10 split and headed southeast to Tucson. I was concerned about traffic in Tucson and hitting the lunch crowd so I stopped in Marana Arizona just after noon for fuel only and headed on from stop 16. I was pretty good at getting in and out of fuel stops and hitting the bathroom. I can’t believe that I could regulate my bladder to 3 hour increments and avoid extra stops. I would go through a 12 oz bottle of water about every 3 hours. It wasn’t that hot, low 90’s at the most, so I was not dehydrating like I had expected. The First Gear summer jacket I brought worked out pretty well. It kept the sun off my arms and was comfortable most of the time. It could have been warmer at night but on the other hand, it is a summer jacket. Somehow I was making better time today than the day before. I had a headwind most of the way out so that had to make a big difference. I never got around to testing the top end speed of the bike again and decided that 125 mph was plenty fast enough and I didn’t want to press my luck. I was focused on making Jacksonville. I had to move the Sirius antenna around once and a while to keep good reception. It was on top of my tank bag on the radio controls but was just sitting there loose. I guess opening the oddments compartment would pull on the cable because I eventually noticed the cable coming apart right where the lead went into the plastic. Luckily I had a roll of electrical tape so on my next stop I would apply some to strengthen that area. I had to come up with a better solution for the antenna in the future. I moved it around some but reception was still bad so I gave up and figured that was something for after the trip. My dim headlight was also still out, no time to stop for a bulb and nowhere to stop, so that was another item for later. I considered calling someone back home and have them look up a BMW dealer in one of the towns I was passing through but didn’t want to take the time to stop. I had been successful running with my high beam so that’s what I would do. Hopefully it wouldn’t go out which would cause a severe loss of time. Traffic was heavy in Tucson but wound up not being a factor. Things did slow down to 60 once and a while as was the case the last time, but it kept moving. On out of Tucson and headed for New Mexico I went. Eastern Arizona is mostly desert and tall mountains and I always liked the desert. I saw the Historic Tombstone sign going the other way and next thing I knew I was crossing into New Mexico again.

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My next fuel stop was at Separ New Mexico which is really hard to find on the map. This was stop 17. There was only one gas station which was also a trading post. I pulled up to the pump and no credit card slot. First time that had happened. Since the sign said “PAY FIRST”, I ran in and gave the guy at the counter a 20 and said I needed a fill up. I pumped the fuel and went back in for my change and receipt. The receipt he gave me was from an old adding machine and had no town on it, the only time I would run into this on the trip. I told him what I was doing and he gave me his business card and said anyone with questions could call him. He was quite interested in my adventure but I didn’t have time to talk. I thanked him for the card and hit the bathroom before heading out. The bathroom was in the back of the store so I had to walk by all the souvenirs in the old trading post. It was like something out of my childhood when we traveled extensively across the US, mostly in a truck with a camper on the back. Mom made dad stop in almost every trinket store along the way and buy the little cedar jewelry boxes, refrigerator magnets and back scratchers that were everywhere back then. Who makes this junk and more importantly who buys it these days? The little cedar trinkets were neat once upon a time but get a life. It was like a time warp and pondering these questions keep me occupied for a little while. As I left the parking lot I noticed that the guy from behind the counter had come out to smoke a cigarette and watch me leave. He had that lonely look in his eye. You know the one I mean? It’s like he was longing for something different or new and I had given him something to consider for a day or two. I bet if I go back to that place in 5 or 10 years, he will still be there considering it with that same lonely look in his eyes. There is something about his way of life that is calm and peaceful but I think I would probably get too bored with it. There is a small bar/restaurant, Nesbit Inn, just a few miles from where I live that came up for sale about a year ago. The sign out in front says “The Coldest Beer In The World” and they are right. If it was any colder, it would be frozen. I thought for some time that I wanted to buy the Inn and live/work there. It would be a really neat way to live and I could eventually get out of the rat race and just worry about my own business instead of someone else’s. That was a dream of mine but as I thought about it more and talked to Patty, I found it was not a dream of hers. It really takes two to make such a dream work and I would probably wind up like the guy in Separ, bored and wanting out. It was a nice thought though while it lasted. Another couple has now purchased the place and I think it was his dream, not hers’, so we’ll wait and see what happens. I do wish them the best of luck with it and hope the Inn doesn’t change. New Mexico went by pretty quick and next thing I knew I was back in Texas. I stopped again in Van Horn and caught a bite to eat for stop 18. It was 7:03 p.m. by that time so breakfast had more than worn off. I didn’t want to waste much time so I caught a truck stop with a Wendy’s in it and got a salad. Their salads are not all that great but it works. There were two bus loads of people standing outside and loading back on. I hoped they would not hold me up with long lines inside. It was funny to watch all of them watching

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me get off the bike and head in the truck stop. They must have been pretty bored. I sat on the sidewalk outside the tuck stop eating my salad and resting my back before heading out again. I grabbed a fresh bag of lemon drops for the night ahead. I really dreaded getting back on the bike but I had a goal and wasn’t going to stop now. I wanted to make Kerrville before stopping for the night. As I was getting back on the bike, a couple of guys from the bus commented on the bike and seemed like they wanted to talk. I didn’t have time and simply said thanks and went on. I had no time for chit chat without taking up valuable sleeping time later on that night. I did however take time to tape up the Sirius antenna though. I figured that would hold it till I got home if I was careful. I hit the 1,000 mile mark for the day while passing Belding Texas. I made this 1,000 mile mark a full 40 minutes quicker than I had when I left Jacksonville the first day. I felt better about the progress I as making but I didn’t feel good about the looks of the bike though. The guys at the truck stop could have easily commented on the layers of bugs on the windscreen and front. I had ridden better than 3,300 miles at that point and had not taken time to clean the windscreen. I intended to at the hotel the last two nights but by the time I pulled in, cleaning a windscreen was the last thing on my mind. I was doing good to remember to call Patty. In my seating position I look over the windscreen anyway so no big deal. It was getting dark again and cooling off so I put on more clothes and settled into my “deer avoidance” mode. I fell in behind some semi’s running pretty close to the speed I wanted to and hung in for the next 200 miles. I got pretty bored at night since you can’t see much and I had to focus on the lights and what might be sneaking out in front of me. I roamed through the Sirius stations from time to time to try and find something worth listening to. Everything was about the presidential election and all the crap being thrown back and forth by the candidates. I had to pop a lemon drop from time to time to keep myself alert and some occasional jerky also helped keep me busy. I had gotten pretty good at raising the chin section of my helmet so I could drink from the water bottle I kept in my tank bag. I tried to drink a bottle between each stop and again, the rhythm worked out very well. My next 200 mile increment was at Ozona Texas for stop 19. What a name for a town. There was nothing going on in Ozona so I was in and out pretty quick. I tried to get a power bar but all they had was some Fig Newton type things that weren’t very good. Back on the road and fighting back pain and boredom again. The back pain had came and gone all day. I had my Excedrin in my tank bag so I took a couple of them and between the pain relief and the caffeine; I was good for a while. I picked up more semis that were running a little faster this time and hung in with them. I was a little behind where I wanted to be at this point and would not roll into Kerrville until 12:30 or so which didn’t give me much time for sleep. Where had the extra hour gone? Oh yeah, I left Ocean Beach an hour late so that explains it. There was nothing to do now but honker down and tough it out. There are few exits and even fewer services between Ozona and Kerrville Texas so I didn’t have much of a choice but to shoot for Kerrville. Fortunately I found a talk show

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on NPR that kept my mind off the ride for a while. They were discussing how many people have allergies these days and how landscapers put in male plants around your house which send out pollen and cause the allergies to be worse. Male plants? I didn’t know plants were males and females. Go figure. I finally came up on Kerrville and not a minute too soon. It was 12:33 a.m. and I was deadly tired and more than ready for stop 20. I got fuel and hit the same Best Western hotel that I had stayed at two nights before. I asked the lady for the same room but it wasn’t available so she put me a few doors down. It was quieter than it had been on Saturday night. I unpacked, called Patty and hit the sack.

Day four The 5:00 a.m. wakeup call again came very early. It was an hour earlier than the day before and I had gone to bed at about the same time as I had in San Diego. I was dreaming again but couldn’t remember what it was about. I felt that if I was dreaming, then I was getting enough sleep even though 4 hours doesn’t sound like a lot. I was starting to get excited about finishing the trip so I showered, brushed my teeth, got dressed and ready to go. I had the routine down to about ½ hour. I packed pretty light and the blue jeans I was wearing were the same one’s that I had left home in on Friday. I wore chaps for most of the trip so they didn’t really look dirty but I am sure nobody would want to get too close to me, not that I would stop long enough for anyone to. I think the jeans would probably stand up by themselves. I had clean socks and underwear every day though so I felt fine. Just before leaving I opened Patty’s Wednesday note which red; “Last day! Whew… Congratulations. Whether you make it all the way or not, you still mean everything to me. And you should be proud of yourself. Patty”. Like I have said before; “What a Woman!” She had given me encouragement before the trip and continued to during it. That’s something that I never had in my life until she came along. I was feeling pretty guilty about leaving her to go on this trip and was looking forward to getting back home to her. I was starting to have doubts about going down to Biketoberfest at the end of the trip because I mostly wanted to go home. I drove around to the front of the hotel and checked out. They had fruit out just as they had two days before so I grabbed two bananas this time and a small cup of coffee. I walked out to the bike and downed one of the bananas and half the coffee and was off again. I tried to be conscious of the little things that took a minute here and there that eventually added up and tried to avoid them if I could. I laid the other banana on the radio controls just in front of my tank bag and wondered how long it would stay there. By this point in the trip I had thought out most of the challenges in my life and was running out of things to think about so amusing myself with the riding ability of a banana was all I had left. East on I-10 again I went for my last day of the CCC-100. Unless I broke down, I was going to make Jacksonville that night. I was concerned about the traffic I might run into going through San Antonio or Huston. I contemplated taking the I-10 route through

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Pensacola instead of the bypass around the bridge. It was still dark and I was still in west Texas so I pulled my usual maneuver of trailing a semi. The banana stayed put for a long time but I finally got hungry and ate it. I flipped the chin of my helmet up and proceeded to peel and eat it with the bike on cruise control. I passed a semi while doing this and got a really strange look from the driver. Being passed by a guy driving a motorcycle at freeway speeds using his hands to peel and eat a banana instead of holding the handle bars must have looked pretty strange and dangerous. I hit San Antonio just before sunrise and took the bypass around the north side of town this time. I think this saved me some time and the road was definitely better than it had been through the downtown area. Traffic was starting to pick up but I still made good time. The bypass was definitely the route to take and I wished I had done that on the trip out. I expected a short section of two lane road before getting back on I-10 east but I guess the road has been expanded to four lanes or it was so short that I didn’t notice it. I was back on I-10 before I knew it. The sun finally came up and I was making great time. The threat of deer in the road was pretty much gone and I was quite relieved. I passed the 1,500 mile mark just west of Houston close to a little town called Brookshire. I was at 26 hours and 58 minutes since leaving Ocean Beach. That’s more than an hour better than my outbound time for the first 1,500 mile mark. I felt good about the time I was making but I still had Houston traffic and the Pensacola bridge outage to get through. I pushed my mileage up to 242 and stopped for fuel and food just after that in Katy Texas which is just shy of Houston. The bananas had worn off and I needed some eggs and sausage so I ran through a McDonalds for stop 21. McDonalds was not as good as Waffle House but I could get in and out much quicker. I got a chicken sandwich instead of the eggs and figured that would last me longer. I unwrapped and ate the chicken sandwich while going down the road which wound up being a bad idea. I had dressing on my gloves and could not go over 60 miles an hour without getting it all over me. I finished the sandwich, downed some water and was back up to speed and in Houston traffic in no time. I don’t know if I saved any time by trying to eat while riding and I know it was more dangerous. The morning rush hour traffic was getting pretty heavy and was slowing down. There was a HOV (High Occupancy Vehicle) lane which is usually available for motorcycles but somehow I missed the entrance to it. There was a dividing wall that kept it separated and no way for me to get in. Then the traffic went to a crawl. The cars in the HOV lane were flying by and there I sat, very frustrated. Finally I came to another entrance to the HOV lane and off I went. I was running 65 in the HOV lane and the rest of the traffic lanes were sitting still. The mistake of not getting in the HOV lane sooner probably cost me 20 or 30 minutes but there was nothing I could do now but suck it up and go on. Note to self: watch for the HOV lane when going through major cities as it can save you lots of time. Once I was out of Houston the traffic calmed down and I was able to get back up to freeway speeds again. I ran that most of the trip, after my ticket in Florida that is, and watched my trip computer on the dash. It averaged my speed over the last few hours and I tried to keep it high. It would creep down as I went through a large town or stop for gas

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but then I would make it up later. It occupied some time and helped me keep busy. I also played with the GPS. It showed the distance to my destination on the bottom with a calculated ETA. The ETA was based on the distance left to run and the speed limits of the road. It predicted that I would get into Jacksonville at 12:30 that night. As I ran with the faster traffic most of the time, the ETA would slowly creep back in time. Any delay in traffic and forward it would go again. It was pretty frustrating to go into Houston with an ETA for Jacksonville of 12:10 and come out with an ETA of 12:30. I hoped I could make it up by the end of the day. After Houston, I called Patty by stuffing the phone in my helmet again to let her know I was up and running and doing fine. The rest of Texas went pretty quickly and next thing I knew I was in Beaumont then Orange Texas, right on the border, then Lake Charles Louisiana. Lake Charles always rings a bell with me because years ago when I worked for Olin Corporation, their largest chemical plant was in Lake Charles. As I cruised though I noticed there were a lot of chemical plants in Lake Charles. The area was very industrial and run down and I-10 was very old and not well maintained either. I made my next fuel stop, stop 22, just before going over the Breaux Bridge at a town called, would you guess, Breaux Bridge. Not a very creative name but I guess it works. I knew the upcoming bridge was long and I had better stop before entering it or I might risk running out of fuel before the other end especially since I had pushed the leg mileage up to 262 miles. The BMW had been doing a lot better on fuel mileage on the return leg than it had on the outbound. I had no idea the headwind going west would have such an effect. Although crossing the Breaux Bridge was slow, running through the rest of Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama went pretty quick. Having towns close together and lots of exits put me in more traffic but made the time go quicker than it had out west. I was also spending a lot of time thinking about what to do when I hit Pensacola. Should I bypass again or take the direct route. It was afternoon now and I would probably be hitting Pensacola at rush hour. What to do. I passed the 2,000 mile mark in Grand Bay Alabama and stopped for fuel, stop 23. I didn’t want to take time to eat yet so I broke into the beef jerky again after taking off. I had also purchased some new lemon drops the day before and left them in their original bag so they would not melt to the jerky. This made getting at them much easier since they were not all melted together. I remember watching the mileage and counting the remaining stops. After this on I had only one more stop before hitting Jacksonville. My excitement level was higher than it had been since I originally left Jacksonville. I had gotten the ETA on the BMW down to 11:30 so I felt great and it looked like I was going to make it that night. One more stop and I would be there. The next hurtle was getting through Pensacola and at the last minute I decided to take the I-10 route instead of the bypass. As I passed the exit I wondered if this was the right decision but no looking back now. Traffic backed up and came to a stop not too long after that. People were merging to the left into one lane in anticipation of what was to come. I would move up a few car lengths then stop and sit. The ETA was going forward again. I was loosing time precious time and wondered if I made the right decision? I

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considered taking the shoulder and bypassing a mile or two of traffic but I didn’t want another ticket so I stayed in my lane. There was nothing that I could do but wait. This area had also been hit hard from the hurricane and trees were down on both sides of the road. Watching road crews remove debris kept me occupied for a while and I drank the rest of my bottle of water from my tank bag and waited some more. As I finally came to the bridge the traffic speed picked up to about 25 miles an hour. This gave me plenty of time to see the construction going on. The bridge was built from concrete sections just sitting on top of concrete pilings. The storm surge had come up from below the bridge sections and lifted them off the pilings and dropped them in the ocean. There were several cranes on barges that were working on the collapsed sections. Some of the pilings had been broken when the road sections fell so one of the barges was poring new pilings for the replacement sections. The construction crews had quite a job ahead of them to put this one back together. I later saw an aerial photo of the bridge right after the hurricane and the west bound highway also had sections shifted from the surge but none were completely toppled from the pilings like the east bound side was. Once I made the end of the bridge, I was able to pick back up to normal speed. I would estimate the backup to be 2 or 3 miles and to have cost me 45 minutes or so. My 3 hour leg wound up to be 3 hours and 45 minutes but it was probably no worse than the bypass. No more cities to go through and only one more stop before Jacksonville. I had time to make up so I picked up the speed wherever I could. I didn’t want another ticket so I would watch for cars running fast and trail them by ¼ mile or so. The radar detector works well but I had learned not to be the pace car. Once out of Pensacola I was able to make good time and I watched the ETA roll back again. I had lost time but I was still ahead of schedule and doing better than my time on the outbound run. My next and final stop, stop 24, was in Quincy Florida. I was doing well at making up time but I had not eaten since breakfast so I kept watching for a restaurant but found none. I thought about stopping at a Waffle House but I was too focused on Jacksonville so I grabbed a cold sandwich at the gas station and ate it at the pump before departing. I didn’t even take time to drink anything with it. I just swallowed it and hit the road, drinking water once I was running again.

The Finish Line It was dark again now and I was getting tired. I decided to call PirateJohn and let him know that I was headed into town. I hit his number on the speed dial and stuffed the phone in my helmet again. John congradulated me on my progress and warned me of the deer in Florida at night. He said his office was right down the street from the Shell station in Jacksonville beach so for me to call him in the morning once I got some rest and he would witness my finish. I also called Patty to update her on my progress. I was getting tired but the excitement of reaching my destination and the lemon drops kept me going. I crossed highway 231 that runs into Panama City, then highway 75 from Atlanta, then the Jacksonville city limit sign. I did a rough calculation of my time in my head and using the ETA computer on the BMW realized I would be arriving at the Shell station at

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just over 90 hours total for the trip. Even though it was dark and John had warned of deer, I skipped the semi’s this time and went for the finish. While this was a great time I thought it would be better to get the time down under 90 hours so I picked up speed. I would be arriving at 11:50 and I knew that I had departed at 5:37 so I had to make up 13 minutes to beat 90 hours but I was afraid of getting another ticket. I pushed my speed up to a reasonable pace as I came into Jacksonville. I headed south on 95 and finally turned east again on highway 202 towards the beach. There was very little traffic at 11:30 at night and there wasn’t a problem in site. I remembered PirateJohn telling me that the off ramp from highway 202 to A1A was a speed trap so I slowed down as I came through and it became quite obvious that I was not going to beat the 90 hour mark but I was going to be damn close. I cruised down A1A and luckily didn’t hit any stoplights. The Shell station finally came up on my right and slid into a pump and filled up as quickly as possibly. It was 11:45 on the clock on my dash and I was there. My time wound up to be 90 hours and 8 minutes, by the clock on the dash of the BMW. I got my fuel receipt and stuffed it in my wallet with the other 24. I had marked each one as I put them in with the stop number so I would have an easier time sorting them out at the end. I headed down the side street and parked in the same spot I had before leaving for my walk down to the beach. I stripped off a few layers of clothes and found my third and last bottle and headed down to the water. The tide was in this time so I didn’t have as far to walk. I was tired, sore, my back hurt, my ears hurt from being cramped up in the helmet, but I was happy to have made the trip. I got the sand and water and called Patty. I think she was asleep but was glad to hear that I had made it. While talking with her on the cell phone, some guy walked up and wanted to talk about the bike. That’s one thing with the BMW, it gets noticed and many people don’t seem to know that BMW makes motorcycles. BMW has only been making motorcycles since 1923. I was still talking to Patty on the phone so I told him I was on the phone and went on talking. I don’t normally blow people off but he was rude not to notice I was on the phone. When I got done, I headed for Hooters. It was right at midnight and I was sure they were closed but I wanted to have a celebration drink and what better place to do that then Hooters and just maybe they were still serving. I rolled into the Hooters parking lot and they had just locked the door. There were still people inside but were not letting anyone in so I headed for the hotel. Maybe one of the restaurants next to the hotel would still be open. I remember riding down A1A grinning from ear to ear. I had made the CCC-100 and was darn proud of it but had nobody to share it with. I checked into the hotel and dropped my bags in the room. On the way up I had noticed that several bars were still open so I headed out to find one. I was hungry since all I had was a small sandwich a couple of hours before. There was an Irish bar 2 blocks from the Best Western so that sounded good. There were still people walking up and down the streets, on vacation I suppose, having a good time and obviously drinking. I had not been to Jacksonville Beach before and didn’t really expect the vacation strip that is there. The Irish bar was only about a third full and there

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was a nice looking young girl tending bar so I pulled up a stool and ordered a black and tan. She had on low cut jeans with a short top that exposed a couple inches of her waste. Her belly button was pierced and she had a tattoo on her back, obviously done to draw attention to herself. Women can show a little skin in the right place and it will catch the eye of almost any man. She poured the black and tan but not nearly as well as my favorite Irish bar in Milwaukee. The County Clair has real Irish bartenders and they make a science of pouring Genius over spoons. This girl was obviously not Irish. I also ordered a shot of Jameson to chase it with because I had some celebrating to do. I sat at the bar for a while and drank my beer and whisky while the bartender flirted with a group of young guys at the other end of the bar. They were on a bachelor’s party or some kind of celebration and buying lots of drinks and shots. It’s funny to watch the difference in how she dealt with me, a middle-aged, married man and the young guys at the other end. The beer tasted good and the whisky gave me a quick buzz. The bar had stopped serving food by the time I got there so I ordered another black and tan and whisky chaser and proceeded to drink them. A new bunch of young guys came in who had probably drank a lot before they got there because they were loud and obnoxious. One of they struck up a conversation with me and I found they were from Boston. With Boston in the World Series, they were on top of the world. They continued to drink rapidly and look around the room for something to do. They wanted some action and I don’t think they were going to find it one way or another. I mentioned a bar that I had passed down the street that had women dancing on the stage with nothing but bras and panties on. They said they had been there earlier and sometimes the bras came off. They obviously had a good time but were looking for something else. By the time the second round of drinks were gone I was getting tired. It was 12:30 and I had over 1,200 miles that day so I tipped the bartender and headed for the room. I passed the bar again with the women dancing but didn’t feel like stopping. There was a time in my life when I would have stayed out all night in places like that but not anymore. I had been on a mission that was over and I wanted some rest. I wanted to celebrate but with my family and friends. The drinks had done their job and I was relaxed for a change. I did not place an order for a wake up call which was a great feeling for a change. I hit the bed and went to sleep in no time.

The Morning After I slept straight through the night and don’t remember waking at my usual 5:00 a.m. which is unusual for me. Sleeping until 7:30 for a change was great. I did my usual shower, packed my stuff and checked out of the hotel. I asked where I could get breakfast and was told the owner of the hotel also owned a restaurant about a mile down the street. I rolled into the restaurant about 8:30 and put my hat on to cover up the hair that had not been combed in 5 days. I grabbed a booth table where I could keep an eye on the bike and spread my stuff out. I wanted to go through my logs and receipts to get things in order before heading out for the day. I also brought in Patty’s envelop of notes to see what she had to say for Thursday. I ordered eggs, bacon and toast with no butter and sat

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there taking my time eating. No more ordering on the fly as I headed for the restroom. No more punching gas receipts into my wallet and trying to eat chicken sandwiches while running down the road. The waitress asked about the bike and where I had been and seemed more interested in telling me about her broken Sportster than listening to me. For the first time in 4 days I had time to actually talk to someone without being rushed. She said I must be sore and offered to give me a massage when she got off like she had the last IBA guy that stopped by. Seems she was professionally trained as a masseuse but I declined. I have never had a massage, outside of foreplay with me wife, and didn’t really have any interest in this girl being the first. I told her I would be out of town by the time she got off, which was true. I pulled all the fuel receipts from my wallet, which was getting pretty fat by now, and made sure each was numbered to match my logs. I recalculated my time from Jacksonville to San Diego and found my previous calculations to be way off. I did the overall trip calculation and found I had made the run in 90 hours and 8 minutes including sleeping at San Diego and 82 hours and 41 minutes excluding it. My time from Jacksonville to San Diego was 41 hours and 52 minutes though my best CC-50 time was on the return trip at 40 hours and 49 minutes. I must have gained some time by bypassing San Antonio, taking the Pensacola Bridge instead of the bypass and not getting a ticket. I opened up Patty’s note which was pretty short this morning: “OK, you’re done! I miss you! Come home! I’m Horn#$!! I Love You!!!!! Patty”. All of a sudden I had no desire to go to Daytona for Biketoberfest. I wanted to get home and see my wife. I missed her and wanted to share my experience with her and my friends. I finished breakfast and called PirateJohn to get the final witness form signed. I put all my paperwork together for safe keeping and headed to John’s workplace. John’s workplace was only a few blocks from the restaurant and I found his bike in the parking lot, as he said I would. The building was not marked so I opened the door nearest his bike and there sat John. He came out and congratulated my on my completion and said I was up awfully early. I must have been smiling from ear to ear and John could definitely appreciate what I had been through and my sense of accomplishment. We chatted for a minute and he filled out my witness form then said he had to get back to work. He was obviously in a different mode this morning than he had been on Saturday. I cut through some city streets and got on 202 and headed east to I-95, north to I-10 and west again. It was about 10:00 a.m. so I plugged home in the GPS and calculated the ETA. I could be home that night by 9:00 p.m. if I wanted to push a little so I settled into my 200 mile/3 hour rhythm. My challenge was complete and I wanted to get home. The day went fairly fast and it was nice to pull into a fuel stop and not have to rush. I even had time to stop just outside Atlanta for lunch and sit down in a Wendy’s for a rest. I still ate the salad with chicken on it but took my own sweet time this time. I rolled home and into the driveway right at 9:00 p.m. just like clockwork. The bike had at least an inch of bugs on the windshield which had not been cleaned since I left home. I

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had wiped some of them off in San Diego when it was raining but did not thoroughly clean it as that could wait for a while. I had been on the road for 6 days and some 6,600 miles, 4 days and 4,942 miles on the CCC-100 part, and it would be good to sleep in my own bed with my wife at my side. Patty heard me pull up and was at the door in no time. It was great to hold her in my arms again and say to her “ok, I’m done”.

Post Thoughts I had not planned on going to work the next day but was up and wide awake by 7:30 so I decided to go in for a while. Before heading in I opened up Patty’s last note. She thought I would be at Biketoberfest that day. It read: “If you’re not home by now, I miss you very much. If you are home, we’re probably too busy to read this! You are the love of my life.” It’s hard to express in words what I feel towards Patty. I have never had anyone support me in the things I want to do, even though they may be crazy, like she has. She has been there for me always and I owe her a lot. I headed on into work a little late. Some of the guys I work with go to lunch every Friday so I thought I would go and catch them up on the trip. I had not shaved since the Friday before so I had a fairly thick beard by this time and it caught some of my co-workers by surprise. Lunch came and as I walked out to meet the crew some of them saw me and started holding their arms in the air and bowing. The word of what I had done was obviously out. We headed to the little bar, Nesbit, which I mentioned earlier. The topic of conversation at lunch seldom swayed from my trip. All seemed intrigued as to how it went and what I had ran into. I think most would like to make a trip like I had but few will actually do it. Some simply thought I was crazy and couldn’t understand why I had gone at all. I had come close to talking myself out of this trip but eventually went anyway. I am not sure exactly why. I ran more than 6,600 miles in 12 states over a period of 6 days. I crossed all but one state twice, California. I ran 18 hours a day for 4 days straight at the high end of the flow of traffic most of the time. I ate very little and didn’t poop for 4 days straight (don’t know exactly why, but that’s what happened). I met two great guys on opposite coasts and suffered a lot of back and butt pain. When it’s all said and done I think I did something that I will never forget. There are faster ways to travel and many that are less painful but few are more challenging. I think I was crazy for doing it but I am glad I did. I have no desire to do it again or anything even close to it. I think I am smarter now but I do believe that “sometimes you have to do something crazy to maintain your sanity”. Back at home now, I ordered a dim headlamp from Bob’s BMW and supplies to change the oil. Synthetic should go 10,000 miles between changes but I don’t like to run that long. They sent the wrong bulb, no oil and the wrong o-ring for the oil filter cover. It’s tough living in a town with no BMW motorcycle dealer. I eventually got the bulb in Palm Springs on another trip and the oil is still waiting to be changed. I moved the Sirius antenna to an arm all it’s own that I fabricated just behind the windscreen and it picks up much better now. The tape is still holding the lead together so I put a wire tie around it to hold it on and keep any additional stress off it. I retrieved the spacer for the dash mount

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and reinstalled it but I need to pull it out again and use some blue Locktight on the threads to keep it from vibrating out again. I would do it now but I am busy getting ready for another trip. My hair still has not recovered from the trip. Six days in a helmet seems to have permanently changed its shape. It is two weeks later and my butt and back are finally back to normal.

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