Pre-Rally
Well I was pumped, another trip to Minnesota for the M1k. This wasn’t just any M1k either, it was the 10th time these guys had organized this and the 3rd time I’d completed one (or so I thought). Before the rally Kerry had been so kind as to post that I only needed 1609 miles Ray Bentdahl award. Hmmmm, I had some friends that just moved out to Billings MT and it just so happened that their house and back would give me 1650’ish miles, something worth keeping in mind for later since it was a pretty straight shot out I-94.
I planned on getting plenty of rest that week and I had a shiny new GS with a whopping 1200 miles on it and a fresh service visit giving it a clean bill of health, a new magnetic tank bag, and all the gear I would need. Of course the plans to get plenty of rest had fallen through but that’s ok; there is plenty of time to sleep when you are dead right??
The Morning of the banquet I took off from home at about 6:00am, 30 minutes later than I wanted but still with plenty of time to get the mandatory bonus points needed. I was ready to rock. I hit the interstate and noticed right away that I forgot my earplugs, no biggie; I have 4 extra sets in my tank bag so I pull over and put them in.
Then about 6 miles down the road I notice my tank bag was getting air born from the cross-winds. That’s odd because according to the manufactured it had “10 "Capped" magnets rated at 13lbs per pull”. I’m sure there is some mathematic calculation that would have told me if I was exceeding the design limitations of the bag but I didn’t have it handy and I was guessing that I wasn’t so I just pushed the bag down again and waited. Sure enough, it wasn’t 3 miles farther and the bag was floating above the tank again. Ok, this is ridiculous, I’ve got 350 miles to go before I even start gathering points and I’m NOT going to do this every 3 miles. So, I pull over and yank the bag off and strap it to the back rack under my cooler and hit the road.
It was a brisk morning and I think the weather report said I left when it was about 43’ out so I had made sure to layer. Sure enough, after about 35 more miles I decide that I had better pull over and put on the electric vest. The electric grips are working great but even with the layers I had put on my teeth were chattering. Ok, ONE more stop but the GPS said I’d still get there before by 10:53. Plenty of time to hit Betty’s and then hook up with Karol and Jerry to get more points.
Vest on I headed off AGAIN. At first the warmth from the vest was comforting but after a while I was back to shivering and wondering what other clothes I could toss on and what the heck I was going to do at O’dark-thirty if this is how I was doing already. After a mental inventory of the bags I realized that I could throw on my rain suit. It fits nicely over the Aerostich and should help a little. Ok, I tell myself this is the last stop except for gas. Jacket on, the GPS reads 11:05 for arriving. I can almost taste the coffee now.
That combination of clothes was perfect. The rain suit was keeping the wind off of me and the vest was keeping me toasty warm inside. I was all dialed in now with the cruise locked and the GPS had dropped to 11:00, my luck had turned, or so I thought.
I don’t exactly remember where the warmth factor turned from bearable to downright cozy but it had. I found my eyes getting heavy and stretches of road disappearing from memory. A spinning stainless steel prop on a boat can be very hypnotizing when you are getting tired so those of you with boats, strap those things down or something. At one point some car was on the horn because I had infringed on their personal space, woops, a friendly wave letting them know I hadn’t been paying attention and I looked for the next exit. There we go, Red Bull and Snickers bar, there just isn’t a better fix than this for me. I walk around, gas up, splash water on my face and feel revitalized. Time to roll, or so I thought.
Back to making good time and a glance at the GPS said 11:03 was still my arrival time. Now I’m set, I’m sitting there singing “ Son of a Preacher Man “ or whatever it’s real name is because it was playing at the gas station and it’s stuck in my head. Hell, I’m not just singing it; I’m singing it so well that even Simon from American Idol wouldn’t have had anything negative to say. I sang a few verses, the only ones I know, and then get back to rally mode.
Somewhere down the road the tiredness hit again but I didn’t even have time to realize it. Before I knew it I had gone from the right lane to the left and hit the rumble strips, SHIT!! There was no time to change course now and the cruise had me locked at about 80. As best I could guess there was about a 1-2” drop from the rumbles to the gravel, which then transitioned into a downward sloping grass median. I held onto the handlebars for dear life and tried to make sure that there were no sudden direction changes when I hit the gravel. From within my helmet I let out a WHOAAAA that could probably be heard for miles. I gave the bike it’s head and let the bars flop back and forth just enough that I hoped there would be no high-siding, down the median, back up the other side, took a look at the wide-eyed faces of some of the drivers coming the other way, and then switched my WHOAAAA to a WEEE as I headed back to my side of the highway through the grassy median again. Man, I thought to myself, this GS handled that a lot better than my K12RS would have, then I thought of the next MasterCard commercial
Traffic in my direction was kind enough to give me a wide berth and I was back on the road as if nothing had happened. A quick glance at the GPS, 11:03 was still my estimated time of arrival WOW (this is where I did a little victory dance).. I had seen a Black River Falls sign so now I knew about where I was at. A little way down something caught my eye in the mirror.. My cooler was bouncing around but there was no tank bag under it. This bag was really testing me but that’s ok, I didn’t really like it and it sure didn’t work on this bike. WAIT, that’s NOT OK. A quick mental inventory of the bag came up with two sets of maps from 6 states and 3 Provinces in Canada, the Polaroid I bought just the day before, the mandatory sheets, earplugs, the stickers for MW, a spare cell phone, and some other things I wouldn’t discover until later. Damn it here I go again. I take the first exit and secure the cooler and jump back on the highway looking for signs of my little excursion.
I drove all the way back to Millston before I threw in the towel. I had been very confident that I would find the location since I had been pulling foliage and flowers out of my instrument cluster ever since. If it’s high enough to get up there I HAD to leave something resembling a crop circle between the lanes. Ok, enough time wasted here, I can call and get the sheets printed out, I can go to Target and get another camera and film, and I hope like hell I can find some maps. I jump off at Millston and point the bike in the direction of MN again. I get off again somewhere down the road for gas and to make a phone call letting everyone know that I wouldn’t be there until noon now and I needed to get some supplies. I also tried to get the foliage out of most of the spots on the bike.
Mental note: Call the county and suggest the mow more often.
Rally Time
The rest of the trip pre-rally trip was uneventful and my adrenalin had been going so good that there was no more dozing for the rest of the way. Maybe the fact that I turned all warmth generating devices off helped but who knows. Target had ONE camera left, the mandatory sheets had been printed and we were off collecting points. I was even able to grab a new tank bag from Midwest. Traffic in the area sucked as usual and a van fire on the way to Moons caused us to miss that one by only 5 minutes. I guess I won't be picking up the exhaust part that I wanted to put on before the rally. Oh well, we had the minimum 5 and could grab more tomorrow depending on what the Strangers had up their sleeves for us. It was hotel check in time and off to the Liars Banquet.
Right away there were the usual familiar faces and a lot of new faces. Some sweet rides some good ideas on must have gadgets for my bike and some new gadgets people had thrown on theirs. Kevin’s Hella’s look killer, MW looks dead, and Bart is there with a smile on his face which was really great to see.
We eat, drink, chatter, belt out a couple of German verses with words that I still have no clue what they mean, and raise our glasses when told to. Everyone is having fun and then it happens, the rally masters take over the mike and begin the process. Unfortunately Adam couldn’t make it so there was definitely a different tone to the rules part of it but Eddie had his input and got a KILLER chain decoration from the organizers.
Finally, like kids at Christmas we all go up to get our packets and see what’s in store for us. What the, where are the MN checkpoints, this is the MN 1000 right? Ok a closer look showed no sleep bonus either so I guess that tomorrow will bring more surprises. For now it’s back to the room and TRY to plot a loose route with what few maps we have, keeping in mind that things may change.
Sure enough, the next morning we are given additional packets and it looked like a lot of people scrambled to make changes. I had thought about bringing up a laptop to help plan this year but was glad I didn’t because I would have put it in that stinkin tank bag which is now somewhere on I-94. Some of my maps started life as the free Atlas in the back of the book inside our hotel room. They were lame at best but gave a rough idea and heck, that’s why they invented GPS’s right? I had ruled out the RB award mileage for now. Instead of just pounding out a big I-94 slab U-turn Karol and I just decided to have fun.
First stop was a gas station to gas up. I had opted not to get before the riders meeting since I was cutting it close to the time we were told it would start. There would be no kicking me out of the rally for some technicality about the meeting. OK, finally off to Moons to grab the extra points and get the bike part I had ordered. We weren’t the only ones there when we showed up so that made me felt good. It was only 200 pts but I know a lot of the locals had all the points and every little bit would help.
We jump off the bikes and I open my pack. What the, where the, who took my wallet.. I rummage trough everything and it doesn’t turn up. Argggg I set it on the gas pump while I got things in order. Back on the bike and blast to the gas station hoping memory served me right and of course it didn’t. Maybe someone found it and turned it in, it’s a good assumption so I run inside and ask if anyone has turned it a wallet. HOT DAMN, someone did.. After identifying myself to her ( like the picture on the license wasn’t enough ) I high tailed it out of there and headed back to Moons. The part wasn’t in but I was able to get the mandatory receipt and felt like I could finally start the rally.
Mental note: Carry extra credit card in same pocket I cary spare key JUST IN CASE.
First stop, a wildlife refuge that is supposed to be nice and close. It’s only worth 270ish points but be are in the neighborhood so what can it hurt? One wrong turn on Hwy-10 and this quickly turns into a time-eating bonus. The county roads are getting smaller, 11, 8, 6, and we need 5 so it's got to be close right? WRONG probably 30 miles later we give up and assume the directions were wrong. Just for grins I plug it into the GPS and sure enough, the directions might be more accurate if we headed in the right direction at the initial intersection. Since we had already turned around life is good until we hit CR-5. Who’s bright idea was it to hold a 4th of July parade on the rally weekend? Hadn’t they consulted with the rally masters or was this just another sick twisted way of tormenting us? Regardless, there were points to be had so snaking through the towns streets was our only option.
Finally through that we saw the refuge sign and headed down the road. Ok, what are we missing; there isn’t anything even remotely resembling a nature ride that we can find. This was a perfect case of, “I may be lost but I’m making great time” and then it happens. From the other directions the local constable passes us. All I see from inside his car is one hand with the thumb down waving frantically at us. What’s his deal, the GPS says I’m only going 54 on a 55 road. Then I realize I’m looking at the average speed and not the actual speed, GREAT!
Mental note: Make all GPS screens with critical info in the SAME screen location.
In my mirrors I see brake lights and get ready to try and come up with some fascinating story to try to get out of this one. Luckily he must have been going to the parade and decided not to make make the ride any worse by turning around and pulling us over. Having gone in and then out of the refuge without finding the road we needed this was getting frustrating. It was so few points and it might have killed the potential for some larger point bonus later. Once again it’s time to turn around and see what was missed. Sure enough, the road we had turned on also went straight and the entrance sign to what we wanted was within ¼ mile.
Of course finding the road is only half the battle, now we have to find the bonus. The road is one way and nothing but gravel but after doing 85miles on gravel a few weeks before with Greg at Hiawatha this would be nothing. I get part of the way in and Karol is farther behind on her bike. Somewhere before the bonus location my bad luck strikes again. The front tire of the GS hooks up in some deep, loose gravel and starts insisting I get off the road for a little bit. I oblige and immediately point the bike back to the road. I’m thinking to myself that this off-road stuff isn’t all that bad. Then it happens, just as I get the front tire off the grass and onto the gravel it develops a mind of its own and goes full lock. Nothing I could do here but hold on and see what happens.
The next thing I remember was staring straight into a small pile of gravel wondering what’s next. I pull my leg out from underneath the beast, get away from the spinning back tire and hit the kill switch. Step one done it’s time to try and lift this pig on gravel. Right away I am thankful that I didn’t opt for the GSA which the dealer told me was some 40+lbs heavier wet. Once I get the bike upright I carry on to get the info and check out the damage to the bike.
I’ve been called anal about my bikes but that’s because, well, I am. I like to ride’em but I like them to look good also so I knew this was going to hurt more than the tumble. Lets just say the left side has seen better days including the new saddlebag I had just put on the day before the rally. Mechanically it’s fine so I write down the required info and get the hell out of dodge making sure to stay in the packed area of the road thinking, 270 points, this should be worth 2000 for all the problems we had.
Off and running we planned to take 10 through to I-94 and avoid all of the city traffic. It turned out to be a beautiful ride and the word “Fun” was back in my vocabulary. At one of the gas stops Karol had asked if I was staying awake. “Of course not, but when has that stopped me” was my comment right before slamming another Red Bull.
Mental note: Buy stock in Red Bull when I return home..
Hwy 10 hits I-94 right around Osseo which is above Black River Falls and Millston so when we hit Black River Falls I started looking again for a sign and not just any sign either. Nope, I was looking for a sign of where I went off-roading on my way up here. Sure enough right past Millston was clear single track path in the median. Plain as day and just past where I had decided to turn around on my way to the start is where I saw it. No wonder I couldn’t find it earlier but by this time I wasn’t about to stop and go traipsing through the grass looking for the bag. Besides, by the time I caught up with Karol we would have had some major backtracking to do so I ride on.
Maybe here is where my tone started to change. The fun had shifted to boredom at this point. I was now on familiar roads that I traveled often and it just didn’t seem like a rally. This was a leg that I was leading to the Forevertron and more bonus points. That was right up my alley since I go to a campground a stones throw away from it. I stared nodding off again. What’s going on here it’s the middle of the day after a good nights rest? This kind of stuff isn't supposed to happen until the middle of the night out in the middle of BFE.
We get the bonus and head over to a culvers for some curds. I’d never had them before but thanks to whoever added them, they were Mmmmm tasty. Time to hit the road again and head for Illinois for more points but mentally I think I was already done. We got closer and closer to the Madison split that if taken one way, would put me at home in 45 minutes. I thought if I just made it past this split I’d be fine, no turning back. I had done it, I had made it past the split but there it was again, nap time.
Ok, this is ridiculous, I’m not even halfway through with the rally and I’ve fallen asleep three times and it isn’t even sunset yet. I thought about the median on the way up, and the trail I left in its grass and that was what made my mind up. I wanted to keep riding because I think when you commit to riding with someone there is an obligation there. You both feed off of each other and help each other along the way but I think my narcoleptic tendencies today would have come back to bite us in the ass later.
I make the call that I’m done time to turn it around. I signal to Karol to pull off at an exit up ahead. We get to the top of it, somewhere in Ill I think, and I tell her I’m done. “What do you mean done?” was her response and I just explained that I didn’t think I could make it even with the sleep bonus and it was time for me to head home. Back on the interstate and about 90 minutes later I was pulling into my driveway upset that I had actually quit but thankful that I didn’t have to worry about trying to live on Red Bull and snickers for another 13 hours. Then some whacked out part of me looked at the GPS and thought that well, it was only 6hours back to the finish line so technically I could sleep for 5hours and give it a go. Yea, wake up and smell the coffee buddy, once you lay down you are done.
I pulled the bike into the garage, ordered out for a pizza to be delivered and grabbed myself a beer. After unpacking and re-evaluating the damage on the bike I sat down with an ice-pack on my ankle which was now throbbing from the get-off had a drink or two and thought of the shoulda, woulda, coulda’s.
I woke up on Sunday with the ankle all better but my shoulder and hip feeling like someone had beaten me with a bat and made the dreaded call to Kerry. Kerry, thanks for referring to it as a DNF of intelligence or however you worded it. It made me feel a little better about the choice I had made but I still wonder, what if… A couple of painful days later Amy took a look at the shoulder and diagnosed a partially torn rotator cuff. Damn Gravel...
If anyone wants a bunch of maps, a Polaroid, and a magnetic tank bag you know where to find one.
You guys pulled together another great rally and this time you left the cold/wet weather behind. The Lederhosen were kind of scary but who knows, maybe if Andy at Aerostich makes some they will catch on. Like Eddie said, I’m already sitting here planning on what I can do differently next year.
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