On Saturday, October 8th 2016 three men set out from a Kwik Trip in Waukesha WI with the goal of riding at least 1500 miles in less than 24 hours. If you’re not familiar with IBA certified rides, check out when I previewed this ride a few days ago. Riding were myself, my little brother, and my friend Wingnut Dave.
Our planned route had us taking highways 90/94 to Wall, SD and back. We knew there was some construction and the potential for serious cold but we wanted to hit ‘gold’ and didn’t really have a backup plan.
Some planning always has to go into a ride like this, but it’s also October in the North Central US, which means weather can be an issue. Wingnut Dave had just done a 2-up trip to Seattle and back, so he was good. My little brother rides a VTX 1800. With no heated gear, fairing, cruise control or hard lowers, the IBA might call this a hopeless class ride for him. Not that it couldn’t be done, but, damn. He went and rented a 2016 Road Glide Ultra, which also happens to be the bike he’s been lusting for. For my part, I got the rest of the heated gear I started putting together last year.
I tend to get excited before a trip like this. A long ride is great for clearing my head, but my head’s not clear yet so my mind messes with me. “Hey buddy, really important that we get sleep for this ride right? Ok cool, I’m just going to run non-stop with random stuff until about 2:30am…” To combat this, I employ a variety of sleep aids. This particular evening my sleep aid of choice was a healthy Glencairn glass of Knob Creek small batch. Not the tastiest bourbon, but my mom always told me to try new things.
It was in the low 40s as we set out West. As we got near LaCross, WI it plunged down to 33 degrees. At 75mph, that’s cold. During the first gas stop we all added extra layers, glove liners, etc. There’s also a reality check: Are we really going to be able to do this? Put a few dudes together and the testosterone goes up exponentially. Of course we’re doing this.
I have driven up to Minnesota before, but it must have always been at night. As we crossed the Missouri river as saw Lake Francis Case I was already regretting the fact that we had zero time for sight seeing. If I do any more endurance rides, maybe I can justify it to myself as a way of finding places to go back and spend some time.
I had not been through South Dakota since I was a kid. My parents were serious road-trippers, and originally gave me the name Road Runner as a CB handle when we would talk to truckers on long trips. In my head I was thinking “We are going to Sturgis”, but heading out to Wall, SD in October isn’t like that at all. There’s a lot of the typical tourist road-side attractions like you would find all over the American West, and you get just enough glimpse of the beauty of the landscape from I-90 to make you want to come back. Be aware that actual Premium fuel is hard to find out there. I know modern engines have knock sensors, but my gas mileage went to hell until I had run a tank of 93 through the bike.
But, again, this was a timed endurance ride. Stops were gas, piss, kickstands up as much as possible. I was a little jealous of Wingnut Dave’s cup holder, he was sipping hot coffee. For me, though, a big part of being on the bike is Doing Without all the Stuff. Sometimes a fully loaded Gold Wing starts to edge a little close to being a two-wheeled car for me.
Other than the cold, the only issue we encountered was stench. Part of SD, all of MN, and again part of WI were bathed in a non-stop stench that defied explanation and was a marvel in it’s continuity. I’ve ridden through tons of farmland, so I know what pig shit smells like. I know what pesticide and non-shit fertilizer smells like. I know what skunk smells like. This was all of it, and it was constant and bad enough I started worrying about blowing chunks into my balaclava. Most of the last 500 miles smelled like a diaper full of rotten Thai food that had been made with raccoon vomit. Or maybe there is a “baseball bat open season” on skunks I haven’t heard of, or maybe it’s an inside North Woods joke that deer hunters shoot skunks and then throw them on I-90? I don’t know but all of us on this trip have logged a lot of miles and agreed this was a singular phenomenon. We were getting damn close to the end point before I could breathe again and I pity the poor souls who live in those areas.
Obviously, being alert is a constant concern on a ride like this. We didn’t do ourselves any favors with the time of year we chose. The cold takes a lot out of you. Even though we’re on a trip “for fun”, safety has to be a constant concern. I realize I’m talking to myself a lot “Be alert. Get home safe, you have a family to take care of.”
Other than these thoughts, though, I got exactly what I needed out of this ride: a brain reboot. I generally have a lot of trouble telling my brain to shut the fuck up and give itself some peace. I’m also a natural introvert and people like me can really recharge from alone time. Sure I had two guys with me, but you’re alone with your music and your thoughts 99% of the time.
Being mentally chill is so rare, that every single time it happens after a ride it still shocks me. When I was finally back on my brother’s couch having a bedtime (5am) sip of bourbon and talking about the ride, my ears ringing, it hit me again. My head is empty. I tried for a second to worry about my house or my job and it just wasn’t there. Do this right now: sit down and think about what you were thinking about yesterday. Can you do it?
The Aftermath
I don’t feel old most days. I use a bead rider seat, my fairing and shield keep most of the wind off of me, and generally never have much to complain bout after a ride other than sunburn. Holy shit was I sore today though. The cold and the miles took a toll I didn’t realize until I’d slept and tried to move. There are people who can do 1,000 mile days for a week. Kudos to you, you’re in a lot better shape than I am.
My little brother (by nearly 2 years) is a big boy, but I still can’t believe he did this without heated gear. Just some layers and a leather jacket. I suspect that the power of his epic beard may behind it, and so for now I’m giving him the road name “Der Bart”, the German word for “beard”.
I haven’t submitted to the IBA yet but obviously I know the GPS and the paperwork is in order, so I am looking forward to adding a couple patches to my vest. You can see the full route here.
two wheeled thoughts 
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