Second SS1000 attempt

Thursday March 9th I took off work early, packed up the bike, said my good-byes, and headed out at 3 PM for points south. The event was an Iron Butt Association/Motorcycle Tourers Forum dinner loosely connected with the Bike Week in Daytona. You had to be a member of the IBA or do a qualifying ride to attend. I had tried a Saddlesore 1000 (ride 1000 or more miles in 24 hours or less) last November, but I lost some of the documentation, so I couldn't turn it in. But the effort told me I could do this “basic” ride and attend the dinner, so I signed up several months ago.

Anyone with Mapquest or Google maps can tell that Jacksonville isn’t 1000 miles from here. I zig-zagged my way down: Took US 13 to the Chesapeake Bay bridge-tunnel (It had too much stop-and-go; made me nervous that I wouldn’t have enough time to finish the ride), then tooled across VA and the Carolinas to Greenville, SC, where I paid a too long and too brief visit to the grandkids. Then hit the slab (385, 26, 95) straight to Jacksonville.

I made it! 1050 miles, 23.5 hours. I got a lump in my throat when I turned in the documentation.

I stayed at the “Iron Butt motel” Thursday night in northern NC: found a quiet place, parked the bike, and took a nap. This particular quiet place happened to be an abandoned gas station used by a construction company to store equipment. I found a large pile of burlap under the rain awning and sacked out there. Pretty comfortable, actually.

The grandkids loved their gifts, and they all got their picture taken sitting on my motorcycle.

SC was crawling with LEOs. I saw an unmarked SUV and two unmarked sports cars (Trans Am’s if you’re curious). And a pair of matched white motorcycle troopers. None paid any attention to me, though. No performance awards this trip.

The number of bikes on the road, going both directions, increased dramatically as I got farther south, and the weather got warmer. It’s interesting that you can feel the temperature change quickly as you move from one air mass to another. Got a few sprinkles going across SC, but otherwise the weather was perfect for a ride.

The dinner was inspiring. I met Don Arthur (surgeon general of the Navy, in a big accident on the way to the Iron Butt rally last summer), Mike Kneebone (founder of the IBA), Lisa Landry (general IBA wonder woman), Bob Higdon (motorcycle writer), and several others whose names I have seen in print. I even collected a few autographs. I met and talked shop with Ardys, a little old lady (has to be in her 70’s) who has finished four (!) Iron Butt rallys. I met Shane, who won the rally last summer. On the news front, the IBA announced a new series of rides—single-state SS1000 rides. Do the whole ride within the same state. I overheard several guys discussing with Mike Kneebone how a rider might do this in Washington, DC.

Lemons-to-lemonade episode: I got a flat tire on the way back. I had decided to take it easy on the return, so I rode up US 301 through the GA boonies. The mishap happened in Jesop, GA, also in the boonies. It took some doing, but I got it fixed—and bought new tire (and spare tube), which I was planning to do when I got back, anyway. I got a good price for the tire and didn't have to pay for the repair. I met some nice folks, and my Markel Insurance towing option worked. They paid the whole $85. They couldn’t find a towing company, but offered to pay the tab of anyone I was able to track down. It worked out. The tire gave out, by the way, because the tube had been folded inside the tire. At least it lasted until I was ready to replace the tire.

Not everyone rode to Bike Week. The guy who took the prize for trailering had one of those big flatbed trucks that towing companies use. Arrayed across the cab end of the bed was a row of MCs. Behind it was a small pickup—with a MC in the bed. Attached to the pickup was a trailer—with two more bikes on the trailer. All this on that flatbed! I couldn’t make out what brand of bike was getting the free ride. To be fair, the guy might have been a vendor. Whenever I met someone with a trailer/bike combo at a fuel stop, I’d say, “Hey—nice trailer!” I even saw a Gold Wing being towed—behind a big Winnebago.

I stopped in Hilton Head after the tire got fixed and had dinner with a dozen high school classmates whom I hadn’t seen for 40 years. Have they ever gotten older! We picked a restaurant that displayed antique Harleys all over the dining room. I got to study a 1948 knucklehead while I ate. They certainly make those bikes more substantial now. The food was too rich and I had to make a couple extra pit stops the next morning, but we had a good time catching up. Was it fun to hear Minnesota accents again? Yah sure, you betcha.

Traffic was heavy from Richmond to DE, but it moved right along. No accidents, no close calls. Total miles: just over 1900.