Iron Butt Saddle Sore 1000
After spending a week at the Minden office, I decide to return to Denver in one day, enough riding to earn a Saddle Sore 1000 certificate from the Iron Butt Associaton. Here's the route I took, with gas stops along the way.
I reset the GPS in the parking lot of the Historian Inn in Gardnerville, NV. The local time is 6:26 am (the GPS is still on Mountain time).
A quick snap of the bike odometer, and off I go! It's difficult to discern, but the starting mileage is 42,523.
The clerk at the Historian Inn was gracious enough to sign my starting witness form, and I gas up at the Shell station in Minden to officially start the clock for the ride. The morning is cold and it is still dark. In the darkness, I can make out storm clouds and expect to catch rain. The rain gods do not disappoint, soaking me on my ride north to Reno. From Carson City to Reno, I ride in a cold gray rain..
Upon reaching Reno, I merge onto I-80 and turn east. The rain stops and the dawn light illuminates the sky. Things are looking up as I scoot down the concrete strip that will be my companion for the next 13 hours.
I love riding early in the morning, when the sun just begins to rise and brings out the colors and interesting shadows. The dearth of traffic is an additional bonus.
Sometimes on these desolate roads, you come across the strangest things. I can't imagine being on foot, looking at the highway disappear in the distance. How depressing!
The area near Reno and Carson City is geologically active, with hot springs and thermals. In some locations, they tap the natural heat as a way of generating power. Here you can see the steam vents from the natural hot springs.
Twenty-two miles to Lovelock, my first fuel stop. What turned out to be my second fuel stop, Elko, is another 219 miles.
I always worry about dropping the camera when I take these shots, but I love the viewpoint you get.
As I cross the first range of hills, the temperature drops again. Interesting clouds and snow on the mountain peaks remind me that I may encounter snow at this time of the year. I crank my Gerbings up to ward off the cold. The heat is soothing, but I notice something amiss, my right arm and right half of my chest are not feeling the heat. Great, looks like some of the electrical heat elements in the jacket are not working. The heat emanating from the left side and back of the jacket are keeping up fine at this point. We'll see how they do tonight!
The sun shines through the broken clouds and illuminates some of the hills. This is truly the most desolate and barren country I've ever ridden through. Worse (better?) than Wyoming or Kansas.
Wisps of clouds wrap the mountains like a thin scarf. I'm getting colder as we gain altitude.
The road continues to gain elevation until we eventually get high enough to enter the cloud ceiling. The dampness penetrates and I'm shivering, even with my Gerbings on max.
Now I'm getting concerned about ice on the roads. I make sure that I shut off the cruise control, as that could make for disaster.
I finally crest the summit of this small mountain range and break through to the other side. While I'm out of the clouds, and it is drier, I find the temperatures are just as cold. It seems that there's a cold front moving through, with the cold air located on this side of the mountain range.
As I continue to ride in the cold temps at a speedo-indicated 80 MPH (right about 75 MPH per the GPS), I start to shiver. My Gerbings jacket liner is cranked, my grip heaters on high, and my seat heater also turning out heat, but I can feel the cold seeping into my body.
I have read the Iron Butt website and David Hough's book, Proficient Riding, about riding in cold weather. From these resources I know that I may need to stop and let my body warm up. Hypothermia dulls the senses, so I decide that I will pull over and warm up at the next gas station / truck stop that I encounter to ward off the effects of the cold before I get drowsy.
Fortunately, as we descend in altitude, the temperature picks up a bit, just five degrees by my cockpit thermometer, but it makes a huge difference. The temps had been in the low 40's but have climbed to the high 40's and my energy levels begin to rise with the temperature.
Crossing another mountain range, this time via tunnel. One thing I noticed on my ride out to Minden, the road goes through several ranges and you soon settle into a pattern of roughly 50 miles of straights as you cross the valleys, then about 20 miles of twisties as you wind through the moutian range. This pattern repeated itself about five times on the way to Nevada on Highway 50, and seems to be holding true on I-80 as well.
Goofing around in the tunnel, I play with the camera or my GPS to keep from getting too bored.
More of the valley, mountain, valley pattern. Here we see the mountains on the horizon with the road stretch out to meet them in the distance.
I don't have an iPod, or other music source, so I have to keep my mind engaged by either looking for interesting photo opportunities, playing with the GPS, or by doing mental fuel/mileage/distance gymnastics. I spend time thinking about my mileage (roughly 44 MPG over the whole distance), miles travelled, remaining fuel, and estimated time and distance to next fuel stop. Then I check my rough mental calculations against the GPS.
Because of the large distances between gas stations, I decide not to push my luck and fuel up more frequently than normal. At these altitudes and speeds, the bike can easily do 200 miles on a tank, but on average, I fill up at the 167 mile mark.
Crap, I thought I headed east out of Reno, and now I'm in Beverly Hills! Funny, I don't see any swimming pools or movie stars.
In this photo, the camera shutter was accidentally released, but sometimes interesting things can happen when things don't go as planned. I think this picture is kinda cool.
Broken clouds and snow capped mountains continue to be the scenery for the day.
Here you can see the mountain / valley / mountain pattern that makes up this part of the country.
Entering Utah, I drop down on the salt flats west of Salt Lake City.
I come upon the exit to the Bonneville Speedway, and wonder if anyone can just stop off and make a few highspeed runs? That would be a blast (not that I haven't cracked the throttle a few times on this trip), and it would be LEGAL!
The mountains north of the salt flats.
As I cross the salt flats and the Great Salt Lake, I realize that I won't have enough fuel to make Salt Lake City. In Utah, you can go over 100 miles between fuel stations, so I take the opportunity to get gas at a Sinclair station. "Skull Valley Station" has a nice ring to it!
Entering Salt Lake City, I decide to take the southern bypass around the city, on highway 201. This is a two-lane road for part of the distance, and takes you past huge copper mines and powe plants.
The traffic in Salt Lake City isn't compatible with taking pictures on the fly, so I put the camera away. I bring it back out after I exit the city and begin the climb into the mountains on the way to Park City and points east.
One might argue that snapping pictures while negotiating a twisting mountain canyon in traffic isn't any more safe than doing the same in the city.
I take this picture as I near the interstate junction to Ogden, UT, to the northwest. If you click on the "Map This" icon above, you will see exactly where this picture was taken on a satellite image of the area.
I continue east on I-80, planning to make my next fuel stop just across the Wyoming border at Evanston. I could make it further, but Evanston seems to be a good place to get gas.
The shadows lengthen as the day starts to wind down. I'm only just past the half-way point to my destination. It is a bit of a downer to know you still have about eight hours left in the saddle. Ugh.
The sun begins to set as I enter the northern range of the Flaming Gorge. I'm not far from Rock Springs, WY, the town where I received my last performance award. I was riding home from the Curve Cowboy Reunion rally and got Instant-on'ed by the Wyoming Highway Patrol. The annoying thing was that I was pacing a semi-trailer gravel truck about 1,000 feet in front of me, and he didn't shoot it. He saw the motorcycle, (which is considerably less dangerous than a semi-truck at the same speed) and popped me. Just doesn't make sense, other than the truck was likely a local, and a motorcycle is likely to be tourist. Guess who gets targeted?
Riding across Wyoming. I'm really wishing this ride would end, but I've got about five more hours to go, all of it to be completed in the dark. I put the camera away for the remainder of the trip.
I fuel up in Wamsutter and begin the last two legs of the ride. It's dark and getting cold again. During the Wamsutter stop, I ate a hot sandwich and put on another layer of clothing to ward off the chill.
The semi-trucks traversing I-80 keep me company as I climb through the dark.
At a couple points, as the altitude climbs, the temperature drops below the dewpoint, and I start seeing frost forming on my faceshield, windscreen, and road surface! My speed drops a bit as I take things a little more conservatively. This leg averaged 59 miles per hour (inclusive of the fuel stop in Cheyenne).
I make the last required fuel stop Cheyenne. With th knowledge that I'm on the last leg of the journey, I pick up some energy and make the final leg home on I-25, which is a very familiar road to me. I quickly make the last hour to home and get the final gas receipt at the Conoco station near the house. I also take the last two pictures of the GPS to document the end of the ride: 1085.7 miles by GPS in approximately 16 hours and 14 minutes.
Fourteen hours and 48 minutes actually in the saddle. A little over an hour was spent in eight pit stops for fuel, food, or potty, whis is about eight minutes per stop.
The bike odometer shows a few more miles than the GPS tallied (1091 vs. the 1085.7 from the GPS). From the gas station, I head to a friend's house to have the ending witness form signed.
On Sunday, October 30th, I prepare the the necessary paperwork and send it and my check to the Iron Butt Association to see if they will certify the ride. Not that the certificate means much, but trying to earn the certification by following the rules did make the ride interesting.
