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Toxie Beavers Iron Butt Association SaddleSore 2000
Saddlesore 2000 - 2000 Miles Under 48 Hours
The SaddleSore 2000 (2000 miles in under 48 hours) would be my second IBA ride selection. My selected route would be taking
me to Sheppard Air Force Base in near by Wichita Falls Texas and Holloman Air Force Base in somewhat further away Alamogordo,
New Mexico I dubbed this ride as the as the IBA - AF - Stealth Ride. For those interested in learning more about the long
distance endurance motorcycle riding and the IBA, visit their web site http://www.ironbutt.com/.
It was a little before 6 am CST when I touched off the 1099cc liquid cooled naturally aspirated engine that brought the
Honda Sabre,"Black Mistress" to life. She purred in the pre dawn darkness as I waited for her to warm for the occasion.
On my first IBA ride when I completed the 1000-mile mark I was back home, this time if the ride went according to plan I would
over 1000 miles from home at the same juncture.
The temperature was cool, in the 40°;s and the Kevlar protective long sleeve shirt and Kevlar reinforced jeans felt comfortable
under my full leathers. I took a final walk around inspection of the mistress. She looked and sounded fit for the task at
hand. I cinched my helmet strap tight and nestled into the Mustang seat, reduced the choke and tilted the Mistress gently
to raise the side stand. The mistress idled as I downhill along the driveway the tenth of a mile to the front gate at State
Highway 59. I reached the rural two-lane road and all was quiet except for the distinctive note of the Vance and Hines longshots
signaling the steady rumble of the V Twin beneath me. I turned east on Hwy 59 and eased through the gears towards the closest
town that sells fuel, Saint Jo, Texas.
As I rode the 7 miles to town I cautiously scanned my field of view with the headlight on high beam and light bar on searching
for the wildlife that is abundant in this area and active this time of morning. Less than two miles from the house I noticed
a huge house cat to my left. I backed off the throttle and then realized that it wasn't a house cat at all but a very healthy
bobcat that quickly that scampered into the undergrowth along the shoulder-less right of way.
I arrived at that the only operating gas station in Saint Jo that was scheduled to open at 5:30am. I couldn't help but
notice that the station was uncommonly dark and then realized that they were not yet open. I continued on to the next town
to the west along Highway 82, in Nocona, Texas where I could obtain fuel, a time stamped fuel receipt and signatures to officially
commence this ride.
I entered Nocona Texas, passing the Dairy Queen I noticed two police vehicles in the parking lot. I continued a short
block further and obtained fuel and the attendants signature on my Start Of Ride Witness sheet, with the time stamped fuel
receipt. The Constables pickup truck and Sheriff's squad car remained at the DQ, I returned the short block and obtained the
Montague County Texas Constable and the Sheriff Deputy signatures as witnesses as well.
Part Deux: The IBA-AF-Stealth ride was now officially on. I pressed westward through the darkness along Highway 82 to
my next destination, Sheppard Air Force Base, Wichita Falls Texas. My friend Sandy had arranged for me to obtain a witness
signature at the visitor center located at the main gate. I obtained fuel at a station across from the main gate entrance
then rode over to the base visitor center. I entered and asked to have my trip log signed. Sandy had once again been ahead
of the curve as the security personnel asked if I was the guy riding the motorcycle halfway around the world? I responded
that it wasn't quite that far but I'm sure it would feel like it in 48 hours or so. With the signed trip log in hand I left
with their good luck wishes departed for Oklahoma.
The ride northward up the H.E. Bailey turnpike to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma was cool albeit pleasantly uneventful as was
the transition onto Interstate 40 west that I would take to through Albuquerque, New Mexico on to Winslow, Arizona for this
initial leg of the trip.
At Amarillo, Texas. I passed the famous steak house that advertises a free 72 oz steak dinner (if eaten in 1 hour), I
wondered if that feat could be classified as endurance dining? Think of it as the Iron Gut Association, 72 ounces in 60 minutes,
throw in a variety of entrees, time limits and the gastronomical certification possibilities could be endless.
The mistress required fuel and I pulled into the Loves station on the west side of Amarillo. The fuel pump did not dispense
the requested receipt; I headed for the fuel desk. I waited behind a biker that I had seen earlier riding a Harley. He was
in his leathers and I noticed his Amarillo Hog Group patch on the back of his vest. I was not only seeking the all important
time stamped fuel receipt but was also mentally performing the time and mileage calculations required for me to complete to
make the initial 1500 miles of this trip in under 24 hours in an effort to attain the Bun Burner Gold certification. According
to my calculations it was still attainable however I had no time cushion, everything would have to go perfectly.
The HOG group member left the fuel desk and spoke as we passed and I responded albeit a distracted response. He stopped
and said "brother are you ok?" I then realized that I should have properly affirmed his initial contact. I then
replied directly to him, "I'm ok, thanks" he gave me a knowing nod , and we went our way. If that fellow biker should
happen across this I appreciate your concern, thanks again. I look dazed and confused regularly and especially when I attempting
to simultaneously perform mental math calculations and stand in line. I obtained the coveted time stamped fuel receipt and
continued west bound on I 40, grateful to have excellent riding conditions to enjoy as the mistress devoured miles beneath
us.
There is some fairly big country along I 40 between Amarillo Texas and Albuquerque New Mexico. From the westbound lane
of I 40 I could view the panoramic snow capped mountains in the distance toward Santa Fe, NM. Traffic was moving very well
and the 18-wheelers were being exceptionally cooperative from my standpoint thought the trip. I traveled along usually trailing
a pack of the big rigs and they took my attention when they slowed down below the posted 75mph speed limit.
I don't know exactly what the circumstances are if you are driving tractor-trailer rig and you attract the personal attention
of no less than seven New Mexico police cars but there was a fellow in the east bound lane that was finding out. They had
him pulled over and were fitting him for bracelets apparently as I passed.
I pressed on to Albuquerque New Mexico where there was a rollover wreck in the eastbound lane slowing traffic. An 18-wheeler
immediately behind me backed off and allowed me some extra space as we navigated the traffic congestion, narrowed winding
rough surface lanes of construction with the sun descended directly in our faces.
Nightfall was upon me as I reached the west side of Albuquerque. I saw a truck stop to my left and traffic congestion
reaching over the mountain before me. I took the exit for the truck stop. The traffic at the exit was also stop and go, once
reaching the truck stop I revised the mathematical calculations for the Bun Burner Gold portion of my ride. It remained mathematically
possible (slightly) however the reality was that my average speed would likely decline at night. I'd likely have to settle
for the Bun Burner 1500, making that 1500-mile leg in 36 instead of 24 hours, time would tell.
A few hours later I arrived at Winslow Arizona, just under 18 hours from the time of my initial departure. This meant
that I had completed the Saddlesore 1000 portion of the ride and in doing so had made up time since Albuquerque putting me
on pace to achieve the Bun Burner Gold. There was one significant problem, I was cold, very cold and I was wearing all I had.
I obtained the time dated fuel receipt and signature in Winslow, paid the attendant extra for gas for a guy who was begging
in the parking lot. I stood inside the truck stop drinking coffee waiting for warmth to return as I watched the beggar put
a few dollars worth of gas in his car then drive away. I left the warmth of the building and a traveler asked me If I was
a little cold, I replied " no sir I'm actually freezing my ass off".
I remounted the mistress and headed to the Interstate 40 on ramp this time in the eastbound lane.
I rapidly discovered that I was unable to retain sufficient warmth while riding. I required frequent stops to warm up
and with each stop the Bun Burner Gold certification drifted further away. In short I was now really freezing my "freakin";
ass off and realized that the cold was compounding the fatigue factor. I could manage either the fatigue or the cold but not
both. I took the decision to abort the BBG attempt and focus on the Bun Burner 1500 in 36 instead of 24 hours and most importantly
retain my ultimate goal of completing the Saddlesore 2000 miles under 48 hours.
I reached the exit on I 40 for Grants New Mexico and took it in search of a place to rest and warm up. I rolled into the
Comfort Inn and requested a room where the young lady advised me that they were sold out. As I eyed the inviting couch in
the lobby she offered to call their sister motel across the street and I thanked her and headed into the restroom. I entered
the restroom and headed directly for the warm water tap in the sink where I ran warm water on my hands in a futile effort
to warm them. I returned to the lobby to learn there was one room in town and I could have it at the Super 8 Motel. I thanked
the young lady and went across the street and checked me in. I removed the detachable hardback saddlebags from the mistress
with the turn of a key and took them to the room, I returned to park her across from the motel office between a Harley and
another bike that was covered. With my tour bag in hand I entered my room where I cranked up the heater. Three hours later
I awoke.
The bike that had been covered previously was now uncovered and I met the rider. We exchanged conversation and I told
him of my ride status, he was on his way to Las Vegas. He volunteered that I was crazy for making the IBA ride, something
he would never do. He elaborated further while puffing on his cigarette. I guess we all have our vices.
Shortly the mistress was reloaded, refueled With Grants New Mexico behind us eastbound on Interstate 40. With three hours
rest and a hot shower I was refreshed, it was relatively warm and I was fully comfortable. It was an absolutely glorious day
for riding. I reached Albuquerque and took I 25 South towards Las Cruces New Mexico. I exited at Belen New Mexico for lunch
and fuel.
The last time I was in Belen was to practice roping many years ago. We were scheduled for a roping in Albuquerque and
one of the guys had a friend with some steers and a roping pen in Belen. We hauled the horses down there to practice roping
and were stopped as we exited the Interstate. As I recall there were a lot of police officers everywhere and most were carrying
shotguns. We surmised this wasn’t a driver license check as they searched out truck and trailer and advised us not
to pick up any hitchhikers. We went on into town and located the roping pen that was situated a short distance from a small
river that goes thru Belen. There were police vehicles everywhere going up and down the river all the while we were there
with a Blackhawk helicopter overhead the entire time. As darkness approached the mosquitoes appeared reminding me of the Texas
Gulf Coast. They were everywhere feasting on our horses and us.
We left Belen to learn that a woman had hijacked a helicopter from Texas to break out a couple of prisoners from a nearby
prison. Seems she had the helicopter pilot land the chopper right in the prison yard to break those guys out. I believe a
TV movie was made about this. The escapee spent the night along that river and they caught him is a day or so later. I always
figured the mosquitoes played a big role in his surrender.
I left Belen this time traveling on to Las Cruces New Mexico where I called Ski and left word to give him a heads up regarding
the time my arrival. The temperature warmed as I traveled into the valley out of Las Cruces towards Holloman Air Force Base.
I stopped at the White Sands National Monument gift store, purchased a souvenir and put on some lighter weight gear.
As I neared Holloman the F117 Stealth Fighters in the traffic pattern were closely escorted by black T 38's. For me it
just doesn't get any better than this, I slowed and watched the black jets as they passed directly overhead banking into a
steep left turns to return for another pass. If I had the time I would have watched them until dark. Hell I'd probably watch
them in the dark if they were flying at that time of night. Regrettably I wouldn't be able to do that today.
I pulled into the parking lot of the Holloman Air Force Base visitor center and an orange flame Honda Sabre in the parking
lot caught my eye. I parked and went inside to call Ski. There was a telephone on the wall directly in front of me as I entered
and I asked a young lady there what I had to dial to reach an extension on the base. She politely advised me what was required
and I called Kurt. The woman's voice at the other end of the line informed me that he would be there shortly. I thanked her
and hung up the telephone. I decided to attend to the mistress. I exited the facility to commence a walk around inspection
and began cleaning the windshield. Time was winding down closing the 36-hour window to achieve the Bun Burner 1500 portion
of the ride. I cleaned the windshield, checked oil and then noticed Ski pulling into the parking lot. We exchanged greetings
and got on with the business at hand. Since there was the possibility that I may not complete the SS2000 due to unforeseen
circumstances I wanted to obtain two ending witness signatures for this portion of the ride. We entered the visitor center
and the nice young lady that had helped me earlier agreed to sign as my second witness. I know that the time requirements
on Ski are tremendous and I appreciate the effort required from him to take the time to obtain stop down and assist me. He
could have delegated this request to anyonone; I suggested it when I called before leaving Grants, NM however he signed my
witness log personally.
There are few folks we encounter in life that make us proud to know them, Ski and his family are those kind of folks.
I obtained a time stamped fuel receipt just down the road with exactly five minutes to spare to complete the Bun Burner 1500
portion of this ride.
I pressed on to El Paso, Texas. It was warm in the valley between Las Cruces and Alamogordo. The clouds in the distance
over the mountains were dark and ominous. I reached Oro Grande, New Mexico and stopped to add warmer clothing as a blustery
cold wind that was kicking up.
I reached El Paso and missed the loop that Kurt had informed me to take. There was another roll over accident and It must
have been there that my attention was distracted from locating the exit. I continued on reaching the eastbound lane of the
Interstate where I turned the corner for home now headed down the backstretch that was a couple hundred miles long. Once east
bound I had a full view of the weather before me as a few scattered raindrops greeted my arrival to the Texas border town.
I stopped and obtained fuel and signatures at a truck stop on the east side of El Paso. In the parking lot I eyed the
clouds to the east and then donned every piece of clothing I had with me, my rain suit finishing out the top layer. The clock
was ticking and the SS200 was now reasonably within my grasp.
Back on the Interstate the sun was disappearing below the mountainous horizon for the second time on this ride. Once it
was completely dark the rain commenced. It was a very manageable light rain and I watched the raindrops as they traveled slowly
up my windshield, I was glad I had my rain suit already on.
Suddenly without warning I found myself engulfed by a blanket of dense fog. I reduced my speed while keeping one eye on
the rear view mirror as my concern for being overtaken and thus becoming an unscheduled big rig hood ornament increased exponentially.
As I continued the fog lessen in density and alternated with rain. Conditions were passable as I continued eastbound with
my light bar turned off and headlight on low beam.
Again the fog intensity abruptly increased while it was raining as the Interstate road construction funneled down to one
lane eastbound. I was thankful that there was no traffic in my immediate vicinity as I rode thru the foggy darkness. A short
time later the air temperature rapidly dropped and my windshield immediately and completely fogged over totally obliterating
my field of view thru it. This condition simultaneously affected my helmet faceshield in the same manner. I raised the face
shield sufficiently to peer under it while leaving it lowered a bit to use as protection from the piercing rain droplets that
could now enter my helmet.
The fog increased in density, my windshield and helmet faceshield were fogged up, and I was looking over the windshield
and under the half raised faceshield. Wiping the top of the windshield with my gloved finger to remove the condensation proved
to offer limited benefit. I had my eyeglasses on and my vision thru them was now obscured with rain and condensation as I
looked over the top of the eyeglasses, under the faceshield and over the windshield. The fog was so thick that I found it
necessary to occasionally look down to reference the road shoulder. With my speed reduced to 15 miles per hour and my situational
management abilities in full operation I sought a location for a break in this action to regroup.
The thermal condition causing the condensation dissipated and the fog transitioned to a thick mist. Above and to my right
I could make out lights indicating an exit just ahead. Out of the mist the unlit dark exit appeared albeit poorly defined
in the darkness. There were many barriers along the exit ramp and none of which were reflective. I slowed to sort out the
dark winding exit route that would take me up to the gas station. Just then the mistress dove from beneath me. I held on while
a wave of water engulfed us both. I was riding her out of this large water filled depression in the exit as quickly as I entered
however the water that had filled the depression covered us both. I continued up the muddy road to the sound of sizzling water
as it burned off the exhaust.
Once safely under the gas station canopy I shut the mistress down and took stock of my situation. The first thing I looked
for was evidence of a nearby motel. There was none. The mist in the air was thick and the fog was actually only a few feet
above my head now up on this hillside. Across the parking lot there was a parked U Haul truck with a couple in the small car
parked next to it. I could hear every word spoken by the couple in the car. They were going to wait out the weather as he
had his fill of their moving adventure for one evening.
I stowed my eyeglasses, cleaned my windshield and faceshield and decided to press on. I eased down the muddy road back
to the Interstate and continued eastbound along the lane that was under construction. A short time had passed and the eastbound
lane was diverted to what turned out to be the westbound shoulder. It seemed quite steep as I rode thru the rain and foggy
mist. I couldn't help but think that should I slide down off the shoulder against the rock face that would have caught me
I'd just be there until help would arrive because there was no way to ride up that steep embankment.
Once I made it around the embankment the lanes switched back to the eastbound side and there in the middle of the now
divided lanes sat an 18-wheeler, stuck up to his axles in the median. This night just kept on getting more interesting.
The fog vanished and rain stopped as I approached Pecos Texas. A coyote crossing the Interstate appeared out of nowhere
to my left, his path on courts to intersect mine. He came to a full stop, which was convenient since I was unable to and the
mistress passed a couple of feet beyond his nose. Thoughts of both sides of the road kill equation quickly came to my mind.
I fueled at Pecos and headed on for the next stop between Odessa and Midland Texas. This was familiar territory, only
a short way to go now. Technically I reached the mileage / time requirements for the Iron Butt Saddlesore 2000 in Colorado
City Texas however I saw no signs of life there in the early morning hours and I continued on thru intermittent fog to Abilene
Texas. I arrived at the Abilene police station to obtain my Iron Butt Saddlesore 2000 ride ending witness signatures. Officers
Wood and Bone of the Abilene PD graciously accommodated my request for their signatures. I obtained the fuel receipt and this
ride was officially completed in 46 hours 55 minutes.
This ride is dedicated to the memory of my friends and avid motorcyclists, Jim Bob and Linda Thompson, of Marietta Oklahoma.
You memory will ride with us forever.
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