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Toxie Beavers IBA SaddleSore 1000 Endurance Ride
1000 Miles in 24 Hours
The IBA SaddleSore 1000 is the first step on the IBA list of certifiable endurance rides. I realized from the outset that
this was not something I would or could take lightly. I had been studying routes, calculating mileages, selecting a primary
and if needed a secondary route along with a list of contingencies and logistics as noted on the IBA web site. For those interested
in learning more about the IBA their web site is http://www.ironbutt.com/.
Weather was the primary factor that I had hopes of neutralizing. After being caught in significant rain event associated
with a cold front last September during a 250 mile ride I was certain that I did not want to have to deal with those conditions
if I could avoid it.
On this morning I had been reviewing my plans since 4:00am running the details of the ride over and over in my mind. I
had been contemplating this trip for quite some time and planning routes for several months. There are a lot of logistics
to consider for one of these undertakings if I was to accomplish this endeavor successfully and safely.
My trip plan would be straightforward utilizing Interstates ride half way to a predetermined point, turn around and return
home. No Problem.
I had packed the saddlebags the night before with a few essential tools, flashlights and most importantly clothing for
various weather conditions including my half helmet to alternate with my full face Arai.
I ride a Honda Shadow Sabre that I affectingly call the Black Mistress. The wife refers to her as the Widow Maker. My
guess is a Black Mistress could easily be a Widow Maker. The Sabre is not a Touring bike loaded with amenities that I could
utilize on this ride. This 573# dry weight bike is classified as a Cruiser. The aftermarket accessories include Vance &
Hines longshot exhaust, saddle bags, windshield with lower fairings. I have replaced the stock foot pegs with floorboards
and added a throttle lock that enables me to lock the throttle at speed like a cruise control so I can remove my right hand
from the handlebars.
I rolled the Sabre out of the garage onto the driveway. The pre dawn darkness was very quiet as it usually is out in the
country and surprising a little colder than I had expected. I applied full choke and cranked the 1099cc liquid cooled naturally
aspirated engine. The engine immediately came to life with the report from the aftermarket Vance & Hines longshots dual
exhaust as they bellowed out the unmistakable whump whump whump of a 45° V Twin. I pulled on my warmest gloves and leaned
the choke halfway listening as the engine to smoothed out and completed its the warm up. After strapping on the Arai full
face helmet I mounted up, closed the choke lever and departed on my inaugural Iron Butt Association SaddleSore 1000 run. It
was 5:55am October 18 2003.
According to IBA rules my official start time would commence at the time stamp from my first fuel stop. Saint Jo now has
two locations to obtain fuel however neither have pay at the pump capability. Consequently I made my first stop the D. I.
One Stop in Muenster TX where I could find not only the time stamp from the pump but there would be a person inside available
to sign my witness form.
I pulled into Muenster to top off the gas tank with 0.95 gallon and went inside to obtain my first witness signature.
Joe Pagel was sitting at his usual morning location, in a booth reading the paper and drinking coffee. Joe who works across
the street at Community Lumber still refers to me as Mr. Beavers, a habit I've been trying to get him to break for over eleven
years. Joe would be the last familiar face I would see on this trip. I explained the ride briefly to Joe and asked him to
sign off as my first witness. Joe complied, signed my witness form and added, "good luck Mr. Beavers". I was out
the door and headed east to Interstate 35 with 1000 miles to go.
Everyone that I asked to sign the witness form as required by the IBA complied during this trip. I would briefly explain
what I needed and what I was doing and they each were happy to sign off for me. The all wished me well with the exception
of one kid in Kansas but he signed off for me and was very polite.
Leaving Muenster heading east on Hwy 82 and the anticipation of the ride was rapidly being replaced with the reality of
my environment. I was wearing full leathers, chaps, jacket, vest with heavy gloves, a leather scarf and layers underneath
plus my full face Arai helmet. Even so I was now getting a chill. The stainless steel cased thermometer I had mounted on
my windshield indicated 46 degrees Fahrenheit. At 65mph the wind chill figures to be 33 degrees Fahrenheit. No it's not really
all that cold but I was gradually becoming cold saturated. Not enough to be a threat but enough to be uncomfortable.
Other than becoming progressively colder, this leg of the trip was rather uneventful. I crossed the Red River and entered
Oklahoma. I noticed the Red River water level was very low due to the lack of rain and I wondered if that would be more difficult
if you were crossing cattle under these conditions with the quicksand than if the river was running full from bank to bank.
Leaving Texas I kept watch on the impending sunrise to the east. The time just before sunrise is always the coldest,
at least I was getting this out of the way early on during the ride. My thoughts of the cattle drive days quickly disappeared
as I passed the I-35 exit #1 on the Oklahoma side of the Red River and was greeted by a huge neon sign and marquee for the
new casino recently constructed by the Chickasaw Indian Nation. The place has been a gold mine for the Indians with standing
room only for those waiting to feed the slot machines. I guess what comes around goes around.
I pulled into the Total Truck Stop at Pauls Valley Oklahoma, 104.9 miles from Saint Jo according to the odometer. This
past summer when I seriously began considering this endeavor I made a round trip trial run to Pauls Valley. It was hot then
not like this morning. Today I was seeking not only the eyewitness and needed fuel but warmth as well. I entered the truck
stop and approached the attendant at the fuel desk.
She was a silver haired lady that seemed eager to sign my witness form when I asked her to. Her name is Kathy and she
wished me luck as I turned to leave. I thanked her and pressed on for the trip.
I continued on my route north along Interstate 35 and soon found myself in the stop and go traffic of Oklahoma City. The
delay could not have been more than ten minutes but it seemed longer. Taking full advantage of the opportunity I would stand
and stretch while I was stopped. I past the road construction that was causing the delay as soon as the elevated overpass
returned to ground level where I35 turns back to the north along the east side of OKC. I was soon beyond the city limits and
nearing the Oklahoma - Kansas state line.
According to my odometer I had ridden 116 miles since Pauls Valley and it was time for a fuel/pit stop. In Pauls Valley
I had decided to have a Gatorade and nutrition bar at each stop to keep myself from becoming dehydrated and obtain a few quick
calories. When the I-35 exit 193 for Perry Oklahoma made itself available I took it and pulled into the first available gas
station. It was 9:45 am and I had traveled 221 miles per my odometer in about 4 hours. That time included my stops and I did
not want to fall behind a pace of 100 miles every 2 hours. If I could maintain that average I'd be home by 2:00am Sunday morning.
I filled the gas tank and took my notebook inside that contained my trip log, witness forms along with copies of a map of
my route and copies of my insurance information Honda Riders Club road assistance cards and even a copy of my blood donation
card that shows my blood type. I thought that if I needed this information I didn't want to be fumbling through my billfold
hunting for it so it would be a good idea to keep it handy in my trip book.
As I rode from Pauls Valley I had decided to change my approach a bit and ask folks to sign my logbook instead of my witness
form. The logbook would be familiar terminology to the truck stop attendants and witness form could have a bad albeit unintentional
connotation to someone under the circumstances. So I made my pitch to the lady behind the fuel desk at Perry, OK and she was
more than happy to oblige. She and her coworker wished me well as I drank a Gatorade and downed a nutrition bar. I was promptly
back on I35 northbound nearing the Kansas State line.
Other than irritating a woman that works for the Kansas Turnpike Authority by requesting a receipt that she had to hand
write the trip into Kansas was uneventful The Black Mistress odometer turned over 10K miles as I passed through Wichita KS
and I continued up I-135 to the Newton Kansas exit where I stopped at Newell's truck stop. This is a full service truck stop
and I considered eating lunch since it was almost noon but opted for two granola bars and the now standard Gatorade. After
getting the signature on my log book form I changed out of my Arai full face helmet and heavy gloves for my half helmet and
light weight gloves since it was warming up a bit. I decided to keep the leather chaps, coat and vest on considering that
it is best to dress for the slide not the ride especially under these circumstances.
As I neared Salina Kansas I came to two conclusions. The first was that speed limit signs on I35 are apparently for reference
only; the second was that there are sure a lot of hawks along the road. I'd commonly see three or four together searching
along the Interstate right of way. I enjoyed watching one in particular pounce on the unwary prey right beside the shoulder
of the road next to me. I then considered the possible results should one of those diving hawks be focused on a rodent and
fly into me on his way to his next meal.
The opportunity of me becoming road kill revised my appreciation of the close proximity to the winged predators. However
the collision opportunities were remote and hawk watching with the Black Mistress on such a beautiful day is absolutely outstanding.
At Salina Kansas I took the I-70 west exit, a hard right hand turn to merge onto I-70 where the Interstate is undergoing
a bit of construction work. Continuing my focus to put as many miles behind me as I could while I had daylight I pressed on
riding the Black Mistress hard until I emptied her fuel tank and was on reserve when I arrived at the only Stuckeys operating
as a Stuckeys that I have seen for a long while, it was 1:35 pm.
I filled up with gas and proceeded hurriedly for the restroom. After making my pit stop I got my Gatorade and granola
bar and got in line at the check out counter. The young man behind the counter looked to be in his teens and appeared to be
nervous. The kid was "yes siring" me every other word it seemed. When the attendant totaled my purchases I handed
him my credit card and told him I needed him to do me a favor. He looked up and said "yes sir what do you want sir?"
I opened my notebook and presented it to him as I replied, I'm on an endurance motorcycle run and I need you to sign my log
book. Then this kid just started nervously rambling yes sir no problem sir, I'll get that right away sir, be happy to do that
for you sir, here is your ticket sir please sign it right here sir, show me what you need sir, sir is that all you need sir?
We traded signatures; I signed his receipt while he signed my log book I was beginning to become aggravated by this kid but
dismissed it. I turned and headed for the Black Mistress.
I wanted to quickly attain my cruising speed westbound on I-70 since I had become hot during the stop at the Stuckeys
and was in hopes that I would cool off some once on the road. I glanced at the thermometer on my windshield and only then
realized it was indicating 90°. I was still wearing full leathers and I needed to get out of them because now I was starting
to sweat. I should have taken the leathers off at the Stuckeys because I was going to now need to make an unscheduled stop.
I asked myself why had I not I taken the time to do this back at the Stuckeys?
Just then the first available exit presented itself and I took it without hesitation quickly pulling to a stop under the
shade of a large sign. I shed my leathers stowing my chaps and jacket in my saddlebags while I put my patch-laden vest back
on over my long sleeve Kevlar shirt. The Kevlar shirt is worn to offer some abrasion protection in the event of a fall its
large weave allowed the Kansas breeze through. That's when I realized I was still wearing my leather scarf buttoned around
my neck. I pulled it off and stuffed it under the saddlebag flap since I had already secured the three-buckle saddle bag cover
and was back on I-70 in less than 5 minutes.
As I returned to the westbound lane of I-70 I began considering the events of what had just occurred. My indecision to
remove the leathers back at the Stuckeys was a classic case of a fatigue induced mental error.
This little event encouraged me to realize the importance of remaining alert and proactive if I was to complete this trip
successfully and safely. About then it dawned on me that the kid back at the Stuckeys must have thought I looked pretty rough.
I was feeling the effects of fatigue now and I'm sure my appearance was a tad grizzled. I considered the scene further. He
had observed me enter his store at a fast pace then perhaps he was a little shook when I asked him to do me a favor. I wondered
about his perspective as I stood before him a head taller and in full leathers plus the leather scarf that was riding just
below my chin like a mask and me telling this kid I wanted him to do me a favor. I suspect he was relieved some when the
favor I disclosed was only to sign my log book.
After shedding my leathers and again west bound I was eager to reach the turnaround point on I-70 at the Collyer Kansas
exit. I pressed the Black Mistress on at an aggressive rate.
While running highway speeds I generally get about 135+/- miles from 3.6 gallon primary fuel tank before I need to switch
to the 0.6 gallon reserve tank. This primary / reserve set up is a reliable alternative to a gas gauge especially since gas
gauges on motorcycles are notoriously worthless. The Sabre's 1099CC naturally aspirated liquid cooled engine reported fuel
starvation at mile marker 118. The Black Mistress fuel consumption increases exponentially at speeds above 70 mph and I had
been riding her hard since the last stop. I checked the trip odometer reading and it revealed that my main fuel tank supply
had been exhausted in less than 93 miles. The good news was that I would be reaching my turnaround point at I 70 exit 115
in a few minutes and I was ready.
The weather conditions were severe clear although a bit warm as the thermometer mounted on my windshield was now registering
98°. I scanned the horizon to the west and north of the interstate looking for signs of Collyer Kansas and immediately began
wondered if the computer information I had obtained before my ride that showed gas exit services being available was accurate.
I then made out what appeared to be a sign high in the air that could be a gas station but would it be open? The only other
thing I could identify from the interstate was a grain elevator a little further to the north. I took my appointed exit and
stopped at the intersection of I 70 and HWY K-198 the Collyer, Kansas exit.
I was extremely relieved as I rolled up to the Sinclair station to see a young boy cleaning the exterior windows of the
station. This was an old two bay service station and the doors to both bays were up. I pulled up to the gas pump closest to
the building keeping the gas pump to my left side. This is my usual practice since the Vance and Hines longshot exhaust run
along the length of the bike on the right side from the engine to the rear of the motorcycle. When the bike is on the kick
stand it naturally leans to the left. In the event of a fuel spill while filling the tank the fuel will run away from the
exhaust and down the fuel tank that is designed with a ridge along the bottom side to keep fuel away from the extremely hot
areas of the bike. Wouldn't take much of a fuel spill to ruin your whole day.
The kid cleaning the windows never said a word to me he just kept at his job as I passed him and went inside for my now
routine pit stop Gatorade snack. Again I explained to the man at the counter that I needed his signature for my endurance
run. An older fellow behind the counter accompanied the attendant. It became readily apparent that they were both experiencing
difficulty understanding why anyone would be doing such a thing as a motorcycle endurance run. I sensed that this conversation
could go south rapidly and I desperately needed the witness form signed at the turnaround point. They each kept asking me
what I got out of this deal and I explained nothing except a certificate that I had to pay for and the personal satisfaction
of doing it. The attendant then commenced filling out the witness form and advised me that he was the owner and they (IBA)
could contact him directly if need be to verify that I was there. I retrieved the coveted turnaround point witness form, snatched
up my time stamped gas receipt and was ready to put miles between Collyer Kansas and the Black Mistress. As I swung my leg
over the Black Mistress I noticed the sign in the window showing that the station closed at 6:00pm on Saturdays. In another
2 hours and 45 minutes they would be closed. It was 3:20pm when I departed Collyer Kansas; the odometer had registered 551.5
miles since Saint Jo.
My first stop on the return trip was only 93 miles from Collyer. I had decided to stop there and avoid a return trip to
the Stuckys. I had located this stop earlier and there weren't many other options within the confines of my fuel window. There
I met a nice lady by the name of Donna. We visited while I drank my Gatorade and ate the granola bar. I was on a pace that
would put me back home well ahead of the 24 hours allowed for this run however I was still a long way from home. I figured
that I could stop at this store located near Wilson KS at the intersection of I 70 & HWY K-232 and I could then ride to
Newton KS where I could perhaps eat a real meal at the Newell Truck stop.
Between Salina and Collyer I had seen literally hundreds of miles of old rock fence posts that had been used years ago.
Some were abandoned some still in service. I've built a few fences myself over the years and using those big rock posts looked
like a lot of work to me.
I turned south at Salina and continued to Newton. The sun was going down and it was taking the temperature with it. I
entered Newton and realized I had missed the exit for the Newell truck stop and along with it the meal I had wanted. There
was a big shopping area just south of Newton and I recalled a Texaco station there. I arrived at the Texaco only to discover
that it had been abandoned.
I made a quick look around the area and did not see any sign of a place to obtain gas so I took the safe bet and backtracked
to Newton. It was only a few miles but miles were gaining importance as time wore on and I didn’t want to ride any
more than I had to at this point.
I reached the Newell truck stop and the place was packed. In addition to a full parking lot there were two buses from
a small college feeding what I figured was a football team inside. The waiting line was out the door to get in the restaurant.
After getting my log book signed at the fuel desk I got a Gatorade and granola bar and returned to the Black Mistress where
I put on my leathers. It was now 6:55 pm and I called home to check in and update Cheryl & Caitlin on my progress.
I returned to I-135 and was soon through Wichita and on the Kansas Turnpike headed for Oklahoma. I reached the exit for
Ponca City Oklahoma and was ready for fuel and a pit stop. Again I went through the routine with a nice lady by the name of
Pamela. She signed off on the log book and I resumed my trek south for home.
The last time I was headed south at this exit was in September on the way home from Pawhuska when I rode in torrential
rain that lasted almost all the way home. My group stopped eight times to hold up because the rain was so fierce. This time
however things looked much more promising. It was a cool and severe clear night with no problems on the radarscope I pressed
on.
In about 15 minutes the radar screen was absolutely covered with bogeys. Instantly it seemed traffic was bumper to bumper
in both directions on the interstate. The good news was that the traffic was moving however the bad news was that I had been
maintaining 70mph as to not overdrive my headlight however the traffic wasn’t content to run much below 80 mph.
I surmised that this was the Oklahoma State football crowd headed for home following a game in Stillwater OK.
I stayed in the flow of traffic and did not encounter any problems into Oklahoma City where I enjoyed the after game traffic
from the OU football game in Norman OK. Traffic kept moving but my pace had slowed and I decided to ride clear of Norman Oklahoma
before I would make my next fuel stop. The first available fuel stop south of Norman OK was at a closed convenience store
equipped with pay at the pump capability a few miles into Purcell OK from I-35. I refueled there and would have to use the
gas receipt time stamp to validate this stop for my log book.
It was 11:15pm, according to the odometer I had been 985 miles in the previous 17 hours 20 minutes, fatigue was now a
big player. When I removed my heavy gloves to refuel the Black Mistress I had pulled the lining inside out of the glove. I
spent what seemed like an inordinate amount of time trying to stuff it back in and ultimately I was not successful so I put
on my medium weight gloves and got back on the road. It didn’t take long to realize that this glove deal was not
good. These gloves did not cover the outside of my jacket sleeves and allowed air to travel up the sleeves of my jacket. I
was getting cold however with each mile I was nearing completion of this deal, I pressed on. This is when the mind games were
running rampant. I would feel the Black Mistress squirm beneath me and while I knew the reason was due to uneven pavement
my thoughts would race to the possibility of a tire going down and the devastating consequences such an event could have.
When I reached Ardmore OK I was cold so I made a pit stop to warm up at the Loves Stop and quickly continued on. This
was not a fuel stop and I did not secure a signature witness since none was required.
After warming up I quickly returned to the south bound lane of I-35 and was now out of most of the football traffic however
there were several vehicles displaying OU paraphernalia headed to cross the Red River into Texas.
I left I-35 and took Hwy 82 west out of Gainesville nearing my final time stamp fuel ticket in Muenster. I stopped at
the same station in Muenster as I had earlier the previous morning and fuelled the Black Mistress for the final time of this
trip. I secured my official time stamp fuel ticket that showed the time of 1:25 am 10/19/2003.
In another 11 miles I reached home completing my initial Iron Butt Association run of 1120.1 miles per the odometer in
19 hours 55 minutes. If you say it real fast it doesn't sound too bad.
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