Trip Report:  My Y2K Butt Lite II 

To follow is my trip report / experience from the Butt Lite II, an endurance rally hosted and run by Team Strange.

The BLII was my first endurance rally of any kind.  Yes, I did ride the Yankee Beemers Tin Butt 500 but this cannot be considered an endurance rally, as it is short and only 12 hours long.  As I was to learn over the course of seven days, a 12-hour ride is but a mere segment of the big picture.

I gained entry to the BLII when another rider announced on the LD riders list that he was unable to compete.  I was the first person to send him funds for his place as well as his hotel reservation at the Lenox Inn, rally central.  Having never ridden an endurance event, I concentrated on what I know which is mechanical preparation.  My 1997 BMW K11LT performed as close to flawlessly as possible with the only failure being a turn signal relay and a tire.

During this event I experienced incredible highs and even more sobering lows.  Adam Wolkoff, VP of Special Projects, touched on this on his website.  When I read this prior to the rally I had no clue as to what he was discussing.  Now I understand.

Before I continue I feel I must offer special thanks to a number of people.  I do this now not to get it out of the way; because it is important to me that the reader gets this information before you bail on the rest of my lame story.

First and foremost I need to offer sincere thanks and congratulations to Eddie James and Adam Wolkoff of Team Strange.  I have had the pleasure of being involved in the logistical management of yachting events and corporate outings as well as rallies in my capacity as President of the Yankee Beemers.  Without a doubt these two gentlemen put on an event that was fair, incredibly well executed, safe and fun.  I just can’t say enough about the job these guys and all the volunteers did, other than offer my most sincere thanks and a desire to place a deposit to be on the grid for the BLIII.

Adam Wolkoff and Eddie James making it happen

I also need to offer big thanks to Herbert Cycles in Baton Rouge, Perry Motorsports in Salt Lake City and Ma’s cycles in Fargo, ND.  Additionally a tip o the keyboard goes out to Joan Oswald who had a hotel room for me to crash in and a place for trip planning in Fargo and especially to Paul Kerman of Texas who provided invaluable aid and assistance during my time of extreme need.

The story of my BLII really starts last year in Gorham, Maine.  Gorham was one of the checkpoints for the Ironbutt rally.  Being relatively close to my home in Rhode Island I decided to head on up to the checkpoint and see what this endurance rallying is all about.  Along the way I was in some very heavy traffic near the New Hampshire tolls and I spotted a BMW R1100GS up ahead.  I caught up to the rider and I asked him how he was doing and how long he had been riding.  His name was Herbie Saint and he had been riding non-stop for 20 hours to get back into the rally after a major mechanical failure.  I was very impressed with his spirit and determination and I paid his toll to help keep him moving toward Gorham.

At the Gorham checkpoint I saw all manners of motorcycles modified and accessorized for the purpose of covering obscene amounts of miles without unnecessary stops.  It was right there that I became hooked on the concept of Endurance rallying as it combines many of the aspects of my former profession, preparing and competing on offshore sailboats.

After the Gorham checkpoint I joined the Long Distance Riders List on the Internet.  I spent some time lurking here, picking up tips and wading through the sewage that accompanies many Internet lists.  Early on I identified a few of the “big dogs” and sent each a private massage introducing myself and seeking tips.  One of these gentlemen responded that I should keep my mouth shut, eyes open and after a few months he would tell me if I was acceptable or not.  To this day I have yet to meet this gentleman but obviously he left me with a bitter taste having exchanged messages with someone who came off as an arrogant asshole.

The impression I got from this gentleman reminded me of a saying we have about solo yacht racers.  Question:  Why do solo sailors race alone?  Answer:  Because no one will sail with them.

In December of last year I did my first 1000 mile day.  I properly documented the ride and was accompanied by an experienced and respected LD rider.  Earlier this spring I documented a 1500 mile day.  Because of the acrimony I read on the LD Riders list and questions if I really needed to be a “card carrying member” of this group both sets of documentation still sit on my desk.  I put off sending them in until I met more members of the LD community.  Would they be like Herbie Saint, great people with a fantastic outlook, or like the mysterious egotistical and condescending responder to my original query.   Only time and a rally experience would tell.

 When I found out that I would be doing the rally I went over my bike and made sure everything was up to snuff.  I entered the event after checking the website and seeing that the base route distances and necessary pace were well within my reach.  I planed on being a base route rider and ride with integrity.  My only addition to the bike was a set of Katz fog lights.  I have PIAA 910’s and Hella 610’s on this bike, which do an excellent job of turning night into day.  The big problem was that when forced to dim the lights for oncoming traffic the relative darkness would cause a bit of panic.  Adding the fog lights helped solve this problem.

I also added a Wilson NG 4 CB antenna to the bike on the advice of Ahmet. Ahmet is a serious gadget head, with a degree from MIT.  Ahmet is smarter than the average bear and just about as big too.  He has a very tricked out GS and were he not victimized by two flats I am sure he would have finished the BLII in the top ten.  I also purchased a new Shoei Syncrotech helmet and had a headset and microphone fitted by J&M.  Unfortunately this helmet would prove to be a source of anxiety for much of the trip.

Ahmet with the true adventure GS

With the lights installed and the communications setup working I departed for Reynoldsburg, Ohio for the start.  I left home on Thursday prior to the Monday start as I wanted to check in on Friday and get the Tech inspection and odometer check out of the way as soon as possible and leave the weekend free for keeping my eyes and ears open for tips.  After a very casual ride west I arrived in Reynoldsburg Friday afternoon and completed the tech inspection and odometer check.

 I spent the weekend in a combination of quite awe and frenzied preparations for the coming ride.  Gary Eagan, Ron Ayres and others whose names are familiar to all arrived and the buzz got stronger as the time to start decreased.  Friday evening the early arrivals went into Columbus for dinner.  Upon our return to the Lenox Inn I grabbed a cold beer from my room.  As I was close to finishing the beer I headed to the hotel bar for another and to see what, if anything was going on in the bar.  I walked into the bar and was offered this greeting from the bartender:  “GET OUT!”  I asked him why and he told me it was illegal for me to bring a beer into the bar.  As I was on the dregs of a Heineken, I finished the bottle and set it on the bar.  "I’ll have a Heineken please" I asked to which he replied that the bar was now closed.

Our ever-vigilant rallymaster, Adam Wolkoff must have seen something in my eyes as he immediately intervened and told me he would handle the bartender situation.  I retreated to my room where I thankfully had a small cooler of barley beverages.  “GET OUT” became a theme for just about any inane question asked of either Adam or Edie.

Monday morning found me up early.  I had received one part of the route sheets the night before and managed to completely confuse myself prior to going to bed.  I thought I was being smart by going to AAA and getting lots of maps.   Well, if you pay peanuts you get monkeys and the free maps from AAA proved to not be worth the effort it took to get them.  I happened by Ahmet who had been able to locate many of the towns missing from the AAA maps.  He told me he was using the Rand McNally trip atlas.  I had to laugh as this is what I keep at my desk to look up places people are writing about on the Internet.  I went off to the gas station to get myself two RMN books, one to cut up as needed and one to keep complete.

When I started my bike to go the ¼ mile to the gas station my headlight burned out.  Here I find myself 50 minutes before the start of my first rally on the ground changing a bulb and trashing the maps I had brought with me.  I was nervous to the point of puking but I got my shit together, got the Atlas and was ready to go when the remaining route sheets where handed out at 0700.

 After receiving the additional information I pondered my choices.  One bonus was just down the road at the AMA museum.  The museum was stated to be open from 9-5 so I figured I would use the time to check my route and grab a good breakfast.  I did both and was milling about in the AMA parking lot by 08:45 with approximately 20 other riders.  Shortly before 9 I noticed people entering the museum so I went in, paid the admission and took the necessary picture.  I left the museum and headed south to my next bonus, Corky Reed’s place in Alabama.

Just a few minutes too early to claim this one (AMA Museum)

At the time I did not realize it but I had made my first error on my first bonus on my first rally.  The rally sheets said 9-5 and I got my bonus at 8:55.  Knowing the maniacal pleasure the rallymasters would take in educating me I did not claim this bonus.  It actually gave me perverse pleasure to sit down in front of Eddie and Adam in Baton Rouge and watch Eddie inflate himself into rallybastard mode.  We have a problem he exclaims.  No we don’t I say.  He starts to go on about how I passed the Team Strange Staff car at 08:57 official rally time.  I point out that this would only matter if I were trying to claim the AMA bonus.  Not me sir, I no try to pull a fast on the rallymasters.

As I wheel my way south toward Alabama the face shield on my new Shoei Syncrotech helmet came loose as the screws backed out.  I pulled over and taped the helmet together.  Undaunted by this minor setback I motored off only to have the relay for my flashers and turn signals stick in the on position.  I pulled off to a gas station and attempted to unstick the relay by hitting it a few times.  This did not work.  A more intense competitor would have pulled the fuse and continued on sans signals but I in my first rally I figured a new relay to be on the list of Important Things.

Fortunately I was close to a BMW Dealer, BMW Tri State .  I called them on the cell phone and the service manager, Jeff Nutter invited me over to get the problem sorted out.  I must thank Jeff for not only having the relay but pulling a mechanic off a job to install it immediately.  While this was being done I went in the store and got a screw for the helmet.  They did not have all the parts that fell off, I would have to be happy with just the screw and a leaky helmet.  This was still much better than duct tape as I now had a helmet I could open the shield on.

Jeff Nutter, Service Manager, BMW Tri-state

As I got back on the road I realized that my plan to go to Reeds landing Alabama was seriously flawed, as I was not maintaining the necessary pace.  I also realized that I passed a bonus close to the dealer.  None of this particularly upset me as I was just happy bring a participant and I knew that I had another 6.5 days to figure this shit out. 

I continued south and stopped at a rest stop to plan the rest of my first leg.  I decided to look for a bonus in Quito, Mississippi and then on to Hot Coffee.  I never did find the Quito bonus and traded the bonus for a mild case of heat stroke.  I beat this by checking into a Days Inn in Greenwood, Mississippi run by a family from India.  I mention this because I work with many Indian and Pakistani people and find them to be wonderful folks.  It just seemed a bit surreal to see a woman in traditional Indian dress working the counter at a Days Inn in Mississippi. 

After some fitful sleep I woke up and went out to my bike for some more water and Advil to chase the heat induced headache.  I was amazed to see another rider parked next to me; it turned to be Jim Connelly from Georgia. 

After two more hours of sleep I headed for my next destination, Hot Coffee, Miss.  I found this with no problem and was the second rider there.  I was determined not to repeat my mistake of earlier at the AMA museum and I waited until 06:30 to purchase my mug per the route sheet.  I am not sure if the riders behind me were aggravated with me or not as the store was open earlier and as I was second in line I would not make my purchase until 6:30 or later.  I did offer anyone who wished to purchase the mug to move up, no one accepted. 

Unfortunately at Hot Coffee I was to witness the first accident of the rally when a rider went down and broke his knee.  The rider was on a fully loaded BMW R11RT and he was attempting a slow speed U turn on a crowned road.  In the Yankee Beemers we always preach “keep you feet on the pegs” and I cringe whenever I see someone paddle walking their bike around, although certain situations do demand it, this was not one of them.  This rider lost to gravity as he was paddle walking the bike and the result was some fairing damage and a ride in an ambulance.  This served notice to me to manage fatigue and minimize small mistakes as one could cost dearly. 

I made it to Baton Rouge and was the first person to get scored.  After my scoring was completed Adam offered me congratulations as I was for this one brief moment, leading the Butt Lite II.  Of course this moment lasted as long as it took to score the next rider.  I took some comfort and humor in the fact that the next 40 or so riders all pushed me down one more place in the standings.  When the bits settled I was happy to be ahead of the Team Strange staff car, if only by a few points. 

My support team, consisting of Sled Dogs and Yankee Beemers also took comfort if not humor in the fact that I was ahead of the car.  My call to Sheep Central confirmed that they were following my progress on the web and encouragement in the form of a Holy Writ was issued to stay ahead of the car at all costs.

Leg Two

After getting my feet wet in leg one I was ready to improve my performance in leg two.  The route sheets were again distributed and I was thoroughly confused.  At this point I really started to miss my laptop as I decided that for my first rally this would be nothing but a distraction.  As an IT person I am comfortable with computers and I would have been very happy to plot all the bonus locations on the computer then transfer my route to paper.  As it was my geography knowledge of my own country is pretty weak so I would sit and scratch as I tried to figure out where to go.  I was finally inspired to head off to the Live Oak Resort, a clothing optional resort outside of Houston.  We were required to arrive by 8pm or wait until the next morning.  Considering the time I wasted messing with my map, Live Oak by 8 would be a challenge but doable.  I hooked up with Jim Connelly, the rider who parked next to me at the Days Inn and we were off. 

Along the way I saw other riders heading the same way.  Like being in an ocean race far offshore there is something exciting about seeing another competitor far from home.  At various times during the rally I would see another rider.  This would provide me with some measure of comfort that I was not completely lost or totally stupid as at least one other rider was choosing the same route.  As a confessed newbie I figured anyone I saw had more experience and brains than I so it was reassuring indeed. 

It was also on this leg that I saw the one display of what I would call squidley riding.  As a group I must say that Endurance Riders handle their bikes much more competently that the average rider.  Consider that one spends up to 18 hours a day riding so those who aren’t weeded out by Darwinism go on to be very good riders.  In this case I was following Pauline Rolston and her husband Jim.  We were all in the left lane passing semis when along came another rider.  He passed us on the right in our lane with nary a pause and continued on, slicing and dicing traffic.  To each his own, but I figure in a YB event he would have merited a quiet discussion later.  This was the closest thing I saw to unsafe riding practice and given the event and the competency level of those he passed it was No Big Deal. 

I was in good shape riding across eastern Texas.  My cool vest was helping tremendously with the 100 degree + heat and my only complaint was the heat coming off the K11 motor and onto my legs.  I would later cure this by adding polypropylene long johns under my Darien pants. 

As I approached Houston I decided the best route would be to take I610 around downtown.  Unfortunately I got a flat tire on the beltway at 18:45.  As I pulled to the shoulder I figured that this would be a minor setback as I have practiced using my plug kit and I had a supply of 14 air bottles for just this situation.  It was a big hole.  The first plug shot right out on the second bottle of air.  I then tied two plugs together with dental floss, coated them with goop and tried again.  I was able to get about 25 lbs into the tire and got myself off the highway to a gas station.  Through it all I was having the time of my life, singing to myself as I worked on my tire.  To me the rally was about meeting adversity both physical and mental and I was happy to be in the game.  My big emotional meltdown would come later. 

At the gas station I did all I could to get the tire to hold air.  My best result was a tire that would loose a pound of pressure every five minutes, not a tire to ride to Salt Lake City on.  I had to admit failure in this regard and I got out the BMW MOA Anonymous book and started dialing. 

For those unfamiliar with the BMW MOA Anon book it can be the biggest benefit of being a member of the BMWMOA.  I looked up Houston and called a number with the associated codes of services I needed.  The phone was answered by Paul Kerman.  Paul turned out to be a real saint as he offered advice, encouragement and local knowledge.  We agreed that I would find a hotel near a gas station and hold up for the night as the dealers were closed and there was nothing to be done at this hour. 

The next morning I was up at 05:30 and tried a few more times to plug the tire.  At 9 I got on the phone with various dealers and finally found assistance from a BMW dealer.  They were a bit reluctant at first, arguing with me that radials are not approved for the K11LT and my choice of size was a bit off as well.  When it came out that I was in the BLII their attitude changed and I was put on hold while they called their distributor.  A few moments later I was told to go by the distributor, get the tire and bring tire and wheel by the shop for mounting.  Shortly after this Paul arrived with his dog Oreo and we set off. 

By the time I had my wheel on the bike and was ready to go it was almost noon.  I had lost 17 hours of bonus hunting time due to the flat and I was ready to blast north.  I was fixated on the Live Oak Ranch bonus and figured it would be the only one I would claim on this leg in addition to the fuel log and presenting my mug from Hot Coffee undamaged.  I made it to Live Oak after a very nasty last mile on severe washboards and a deep pile of soft sand where the road crew was in the middle of attempting to flatten out the hard packed dirt road. 

When I arrived at the Live Oak Resort our host, Lynn was most surprised to see me.  She asked if I was the guy with the flat as some others had seen me on the beltway the previous evening and I had reported my situation to our rallymasters via voice mail.  I told her I was and that I had every intention of making it to the Salt Lake City checkpoint in time.  She had her doubts and suggested that I strip down and hang out in the pool as there was just no way I was going to make SLC in the 28 hours I had available.  I declined her most generous offer and stayed at the ranch just long enough to satisfy the requirements of the bonus. 

Upon my departure from Navasota I neglected to get the volume on my V1 set properly and proceed to ride through a speed trap at a slightly elevated speed.  As I went out of town I thought to myself, gee this is odd, the V1 is all light up but I don’t hear anything.  DUH!  This was not an outrageous violation and I did have a pleasant roadside chat with one of Texas’ finest. 

The rest of the ride to SLC was a blur.  Get gas, ride 300 miles, repeat.  Outside of Amarillo, TX at approximately 0200 I was departing a truck stop and preparing to launch into highway touring mode.  There was a car in my (left) lane a few hundred yards ahead and as I accelerated I gave him a quick flash of my lights.  He saw my lights and raised me a quick burst of instant on radar.  K band beats candlepower anytime and it was time for another roadside chat with a member of the Texas department of public safety.  He took pity on me and gave me his standard (his terms) lecture.  We shook hands and I was able to depart, escorted by my new friend north for the next thirty miles. 

I got to SLC early enough to head into town to collect one more bonus.  I was bummed about the time lost from the tire but happy to not be late or worse, time barred at the second checkpoint.  I felt pretty good from a fatigue standpoint but I knew I would need some quality rest if I wanted to keep my shit together for the rest of the rally.  I was pre scored by the infamous Aryn Darling who pointed out my one paperwork error of the rally.  I added in the points for the undamaged coffee mug but neglected to note the time and odometer reading on the route sheets.  An aggravating mistake not to be repeated. 

Leg Three

Salt Lake City to Fargo ND. 

At the riders meeting at Perry Motorsports Adam gave us some devastating news.  Pauline Ralston had been involved in a fatal accident on the previous leg. 

Getting news such as this in the middle of a rally is horrible.  The fatigue is already messing with my head, I am a complete mush brain when I try to put bonus locations on my maps and now I find out that a fellow rider has been killed on the ride.  Like all but two of the entrants in this rally, Pauline was a stranger to me before the ride.  We did have an all so brief chat at one point over the weekend before the start and I picked up on her spirit and sensed that she would be a wonderful person to call a friend.  She had a ready smile and was very comfortable on her big Harley.  I overtook her and her husband Richard on I10 east of Houston and as I rode behind waiting for a good passing opportunity I enjoyed watching her participate in riding the big Hog.  I call this participating, as that is what she was doing.  It is hard to describe but on the BL I saw all sorts of riders on a wide variety of machines.  Some riders stood out to me as having obtained the absolute perfect motorcycle for them and it showed.  Pauline was one such rider. 

I believe in minimizing risk or at the very least managing it.  I work in the petroleum transportation industry (oil tankers) where we have to live with the fact that this is one of the most high-risk occupations.  For me this is mostly esoteric as I work on land, however all we do is to support the operations and efforts of those at sea.  I felt confident that I was doing a good job of riding within my limits, keeping my head on straight and not losing sight of my primary objective, finish with a smile and come home alive.  The news of Pauline’s accident pretty much blew a hole in this confidence and I had to take a few minutes to come to terms with the fact that no matter how good I want to believe I am, it can all end in a heartbeat on some deserted stretch of highway. 

My plan for the SLC to Fargo leg was to get a bonus as close to SLC as possible and find a room for a good rest.  I had gone from 0530 the previous day to SLC with two 20-minute stays at the IB motel.  (Tip:  the back protector in the Aerostich makes sleeping on the ground much more comfortable)   Upon receiving our route sheets I decided on the Hires bonus in downtown SLC, then a hotel room. 

I got the bonus and found a hotel room just north of the city.  I felt good about this decision as it was just starting to rain.  After four hours rest I got up and noted it was still raining.  I decided that I really could use one more hour in bed and when I awoke at 430 the rain had stopped.  I felt good and headed off to my next bonus the Thiokol rocket factory. 

I learned that the booster rocket for the space shuttle has 2,600,000 lbs of thrust.  I will likely take this trivial fact to my grave.  I hopped on back on my bike and headed to Montana for a big bonus. 

At this point I had stopped thinking tactically about points per mile or other winning formulas.  Truth be told I picked the Montana bonus because it was A) worth good points,  B) I had never been to Montana and C) the bonus was a visit with someone who has personally signed up over 10,000 new members to the AMA, A Good Thing. 

Riding north I got the nods outside of Idaho Falls, Idaho.  I pulled in at around 0800 or so and got a room for two hours.  It is quite entertaining to check into a motel in the morning and tell the desk staff that I will be checking out before check out time for the guests that arrived the previous night.  This did lead to a discount on the room and I enjoyed a pleasant nap. 

I was quite happy for the rest as I was able to really enjoy Montana.  Incredible scenery and great roads at elevated speeds made for the best morning of the rally.  I found myself singing the Star Spangled Banner and other patriotic songs as I was so taken with the moment.  I also came to truly appreciate the fact that I am able to send my boys to a private school where they still put their hands on their hearts and say the Pledge Of Allegiance each morning.  There are lots of reasons why being an American is a gift.  Next time you start to wonder I highly suggest a motorcycle ride out west.  This was a big part of why I entered the rally in the first place, to be sent around the country on my motorcycle.  Truth be told I had never ridden west of the Mississippi and my geography is pretty lame.  This leg of the rally made it all worthwhile; the fatigue, the costs and the doubts were richly rewarded in Montana. 

I got the bonus in Helena and saw two other riders there.  I departed the bonus and headed to Billings to grab a gas receipt and more points.  In Billings I had a nice meal and figured out my plan to Fargo.  I would ride to a point where I would decide if I was up for a detour for more points or straight in on the highway to Fargo. 

This point was in eastern Montana, Miles City to be specific.  I arrived there and I was not sure what to do.  I felt that I could make the bonus however it would require riding back roads at night in fog.  I was a bit out of sorts here as I knew that my score was pretty far down due to the flat in Houston.  I reminded myself that this was my first rally and how I did against the other riders was never a big priority.  I decided that a few hours in a hotel would be a good thing and gladly shared a room with another rider I saw entering town with me. 

The one thing the rest did was give me the clarity to decide not to go for the bonus.  I probably could have made it but it would have been a stretch.  At this point I was standing somewhere in the high thirties on the scoreboard and I was not focused on moving up a place or two.  As we prepared to depart the hotel a car was being towed in.  The damage was the result of a deer strike the front end of the car was pretty torn up.  I asked the woman who was with the car if she was OK and she replied that she was fine but her husband was in the Emergency Room.  This was time for a big gut check as the tow truck driver told me I was crazy for heading out on I 94 at this time.  It was dark, cold and alternating between rain and plain fog.   I have read way too many accounts of a rider hitting deer and I was a bit freaked out for the first 30 miles or so.  I relaxed just in time to get all puckered up over a family of deer in the middle of the highway.  This adrenaline shot was enough to keep me moving just about to sunrise where I found a couch in a Conoco station for a quick nap. 

As I arrived at the Conoco another rider was just leaving.  He told me about the couch and this was perfect for a 20-minute nap at 0400.  My screaming meanie went off right on time and I awoke with a start.  This also got the managers attention as he came around the corner and asked me what the hell the noise was.  I explained the meanie and he wanted to know what was up with all the motorcycles.  Apparently I was the fifth or sixth rider to come in for a brief nap on the couch and he was starting to wonder. 

From there I made it to the checkpoint in good order.  I was greeted with a big invigorating hug from Vonni Glaves and hearty handshake from her husband Paul, the President of the BMW MOA.  Joan Oswold, a LD veteran who gave me some invaluable advice, also greeted me.  Joan had a hotel room at the neighboring Days Inn where I was able to get a hour of much needed sleep.  I was felling better about my ride and I had moved up to 31^st. 

Leg Four  Fargo, ND to Reynoldsburg, Ohio.

Getting it done in Mansfield, MO 

When our rallymasters handed out the route sheets for the final leg I thought I could feel brain matter pouring from my ears.  Gone was the familiar format of three legs each with bonuses, now we were presented with 70 bonus locations with no route!  Additionally bonus 3 might be only 40 miles from bonus 55 which could be close to bonus 40.  My brain was completely shot at this point and I had to giggle from the sensory overload simple navigation was causing.  I decided to pretty much screw the competition and grab a bonus right in Fargo before checking into a hotel for much needed sleep.  My previous riding partner, Jerry Connelly was in the same mood and we made reservations for a hotel just south of town. 

I grabbed the Fargo bonus and was feeling pretty strong so I decided to forgo the big rest and continue on for more points.  I figured a good plan was to head to Niobrara, Nebraska for some big points then find a place to crash.  I felt this was a good plan however, if I was more aggressive I could have added some points along the way as I passed up a bonus that would have added only 120 miles to the ride.  I was very fatigued at this point and I experienced my moment of truth on this ride. 

At the South Dakota – Nebraska border my freaking Shoei Syncrotec came apart again.  After a week in a brand new helmet that in my mind was complete junk my brain once again went to mush over my overpriced piece of shit helmet.  I had enough.  I pulled over and had my one three vein tantrum of the entire trip.  I was pissed.  I was tired.  I was MAD as HELL.  My tantrum lasted long enough to get the people at the CW bar across the street interested enough to look over the fence.  I must have been going pretty good because they heard me over the band.  Gee look over there, some guy on a big expensive motorcycle who is dressed like a banana is having a hissy fit.  Wonder what that is about.  Nothing more than a 5 cent screw on a 400 dollar helmet.  At this point I was mentally composing letters to the President of the United States, my Congressmen and the Department of Transportation stating that Shoei helmets are unsafe and the DOT certification should be pulled immediately. 

The tantrum, the imaginary letters, a cold bottle of water down my back; none of this seemed to break my mood and finally I just laughed at myself and got back on my bike.  I had visions of the Niobrara bonus providing me with nourishment and rest, as it was at a hotel / saloon.  I made the Niobrara bonus and returned to Yankton, site of my meltdown.  I arrived at the generic downtown hotel and promptly attempted to get off my bike without putting down the side stand.  I caught the bike before it went over completely and managed to avoid a full tip over.  I started to understand that the fatigue had built to unacceptable levels and that I would need to take a serious break to keep myself within my comfort zone for managing the risk. 

The good folks at the Broadway motel must have been clairvoyant as they sensed my fragile state.  I was immediately asked if I had a reservation to which I had to say no.  She then told me she had bad news.  The only room available was a suite for $70.  I just laughed and said bring it on.  I continued to earn pity points and the desk staff offered to do some laundry with the hotel stuff.  I gladly accepted and departed for my room.  After a shower I headed to the attached bar / restaurant.  In the restaurant the band was setting up for the evening.  The bartender came over and I asked if they serve Heineken in bottles.  The beer arrived and it was good.  I then asked the bartender if they serve dinner at the bar.  She said of course and I asked if they served steak.  She laughed at me and said “honey, you are in South Dakota, we have the best steak in the world right here."   "How big a steak would you like?”  I could have kissed her. 

Fortified with a hearty meal and a few beers I spent a few minutes enjoying the band and the locals out for a Saturday night on the town.  I am sure I could never go back to Yankton and enjoy an evening and meal as much as I did that night.  I had a full seven hours of deep sleep and headed out at 0500 for Kansas City for another bonus. 

For the first few hours I had to run in very thick fog.  I was confident that it would burn off after sunrise and this proved to be correct.  I arrived at Arthur Bryants for some BBQ which was the bonus.  I was still a bit of a mush brain and had confused myself over time zones.  Thinking I was early I took a brief nap on the lawn behind the restaurant and awoke a half hour later. 

I went into Arthur Bryant’s and saw a fellow rider and Yankee, Terry Smith having his sandwich.  I joined him and he asked me where I was going next.  I told him I was going to Idaho Ohio for a picture of the city limits sign, then on to the finish.  He asked me if I knew where Idaho, Ohio was and I told him I had no idea, I was going to get close and then rely on a call to the State Police or local Sheriff for detailed directions.  Terry took pity on my ignorance and gave me directions to Idaho.  He then told me where he was going and invited me to tag along.  I thanked him for the directions and declined following him as I did not want to slow him down.

   Terry Smith

As I left Kansas City I decided to go for it and take Terry’s advice and head south for more points.  I met up with Terry again in Mansfield, MO.  Terry again offered me the opportunity to tag along and this time I accepted on the condition that if I started to hold him up we would split up immediately. 

Hooking up with Terry was another defining moment of my rally and I can’t thank him enough for the guidance.  On the last leg of my first rally I had the opportunity to see how it should be done.  While I learned a tremendous amount on every leg of the BLII, my time with Terry was the most beneficial.  We teamed up to grab another bonus after riding though some rain and hail.  Our day ended with a short rest in a hotel in Grayville Illinois.  When we departed at 0400 I noted famed endurance rider Gary Eagan napping in the parking lot.  I have no idea if Gary preferred the parking lot or if we really did get the last room as the clerk told us. 

Terry and I snagged a bonus in Evansville and headed north to St Francisville for a toll receipt from the St Francisville bridge.  The instructions were to get a toll receipt or if the bridge was closed to get photos of both the St Francisville City limits sign and the bridge sign.  The toll was closed for Labor Day, adding value to our photos of the city limits sign on the way in.  The bridge itself is not worth whatever meager tariff they charge.  It is one lane with a deck constructed of 2x8’s, which form two tracks wide enough for car tires with a gap in the middle.  The gap was not open to the river below, however it consisted of wood slats that were a few inches below the rest of the surface.  A very challenging bridge but we both made it across without incident.  We found the necessary sign on the other side of the river and we continued on to our next bonus.

  This is the first try at a photo for St Francisville.  I rejected it.  Can you tell why?

We successfully collected one more bonus and some quick calculations made it clear that it was time to head for the finish.  We had a long stop for gas and a soda and made our way home.  Terry warned me about a big letdown on the final leg after bonus hunting was done but I did not experience this as this was my first rally and I was excited at the prospect of being a finisher. 

Arriving back at the Lenox was emotional for me.  I had participated in something very special that a very small part of the motorcycling community even attempts let alone completes.  I went in mentally unprepared for the competitive side of the rally but I had managed to prepare myself to accomplish my primary goal: finish.  I noted that some respected members of the endurance community were listed as DNF in this event.  I was greeted by some of the people I had come to know during the rally and I gladly accepted the assistance of a fellow rider to make sure I did not drop my bike as I dismounted. 

Thanks to Terry I had the most productive leg of the rally and moved up to 27^th place with a total of 6325 miles in seven days.  If only I did not loose the 17 hours in Houston….. 

Epilogue

The author at the finish

As I mentioned at the beginning of this piece, I owe a tremendous Thank You to Team Strange and all the volunteers who made this event happen.  There was an incredible amount of behind the scenes work, all of which paid off immensely for the riders. 

I also must state that I am in awe of my fellow riders and I must thank each rider I encountered both at rest and on the road.  I still feel like a bit of a LD Poser in a land of giants, as I have never been part of a group of such competent riders and straight up people.  For those of us who competed in the rally unspoken bonds have been formed and I now know that the Endurance community is represented by much more and is much larger than the LD Riders list on the Internet.  I am going to file the paperwork for IB certification shortly.

Endurance rallying is not for everyone.  What I learned on the BLII is that it is definitely for me.  The people, the challenges met and the chance to see the country are a great reward for accepting the challenge.