Mixed Emotions

I have them.

Two weeks ago, it was me and Mr. Crunchy. He still left something to be desired, but we've been through a lot together. He's been like a faithful hound who occasionally stumbles into a porcupine or digs a hole in the flower bed. Could do better, but overall a good companion.

All of which changed on a fateful Thursday night while I decided just to check the local Craigslist ads. I had a specific year, make, model and price range I was searching for on a whim, and the ad at the top of the list met all criteria. Oh dear.

I called the next day to see if I could arrange a test ride (the bike had been traded in to a car dealership). I was told I could, so I then called my credit union to see what funding options I had. Turns out, I had some pretty good options, dang it! Went by Friday night to see the bike, but they would not let me test ride it...the original person on the phone had sounded unsure, and turns out he was uninformed as well. I got to sit on the bike. Start the bike. Listen to the bike. Look at the bike. Me likey.

Monday, I called my insurance company to add the bike to my policy, thinking this would be a good ace to have when I decided to call back and hash out something for the test ride. Called the dealership Tuesday to see what could be done, and the only deal they would consider was if they were legally unconnected with the bike and released from all liability during my test ride.

Basically, I had to buy the bike on paper before they'd let me take it out. Once I returned from the ride, it was up to me whether or not I would go to the next step, and complete the title work, or if Mr. McKinney would hand me back my envelope of Benjamins he had retained in his pocket during my ride, and then tear up the bill of sale.

After a 20+ mile test ride, I got back and looked the bike over, hemmed and hawed a bit, but he said not one word to sway me hither or yon. I decided to go ahead and take the plunge but left the bike there Wednesday night, riding back home on Mr. Crunchy (who suddenly seemed possessed of very mushy brakes). On Thursday, my neighbors took me back out to the dealership so I could ride the new bike home.

It felt like one of those strangely grown-up decisions to make. I hate leaving my first bike, my first love, but I know this is a good bike for my next step, and the more I ride him, the more I like him (a good thing). When I got back home Thursday night, I was thinking about what name would be good for him, and 'Clyde' popped into my head. It's growing on me, although I'm not 100% on it yet.

At any rate, here he is. More details will follow about the smokin' deal I got, but without further ado, I present...Clyde (maybe)

The Long Way Home

Once supper was finished Sunday night, I packed my bags and laid out what I was going to wear for the ride Monday, and then got in bed for 40 winks before getting on the road. Christmas Eve syndrome hit, and I didn't do much more in those three hours than close my eyes and lie there, willing the minutes to move faster.

Eventually, the alarm went off, and I got up (feeling a little tired) and got into my riding clothes. Grabbed my bags and made my way downstairs, loading up the bike before riding it over to the front door of the lobby. I got off and dug out a hand written Start Witness form, and went inside to see if I could get a witness. Michael, Mr. Front Desk Clerk, was willing to sign up for the fun and put down his name, address and phone, signing off that it was 12:08 a.m. as I was leaving the Holiday Inn Express.

I rode down to the same Shell station that had been my ending point of the first ride, and got another fuel receipt, this time as my starting point. This ride did not have the 'energy' trail mix of the first ride, and I think that made a fairly significant difference. I'd thought about getting some kind of mix at the gas station, but the convenience store was closed, and I didn't want to hike back to Wally World, since my clock was ticking. Note to self on future IBA rides...pack the snacks.

From Dayton, it's only 45 miles or so to get to Cincinnati, and it would have been cool to get a picture of the bridge going over the Ohio River, but since it was nearly 1 a.m. by this point, not much was happening in the picture department. First stop was just after Louisville, KY, where I got fuel, had a bathroom break, got a Meximelt from the in-store Taco Bell, grabbed a Starbucks DoubleShot, and put on my rain gear as an extra layer. I had on a pair of workout pants under my riding pants, and a long sleeved shirt under my jacket, but I was starting to get chilled by Louisville. (Heated grips...mwah! I love you!)

Back on the road and I felt better with warm food and some caffeine, and started imitating a Rascal Flatts song...Praying for Daylight. I was hoping for the same light-switch effect on my body, because I was feeling this ride more than the last, for sure. Passed the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, KY, and my next stop was just west of Nashville on I-40, in Kingston Springs, TN. The Shell Station was named 'Sudden Service,' which seems a funny name. Whoa! That was sudden!

While at my sudden location, I suddenly decided to buy some nut and fruit mix, along with some water. I was on fumes, and having lingering thoughts of just heading east on I-40, which would get me home in about six hours, instead of the eventual 18 hours I had in store for me. At this point, too, though, I was less than 200 miles from my turning point in Memphis. I figured if I could hold out until the sun rose again, it wouldn't seem so hard.

Back on the road, it was around 4:30 a.m. CDT, so I'd been on the road for over 5 hours. Another hour down the pike and I had to stop. I just looked for the next rest area and pulled in. The dawn was starting to lighten up one end of the sky just a little, but not much. I parked under a street light with empty parking spots on either side of me and took my helmet off. Set my cell phone for a 6 a.m. wakeup call, put my feet up on the pegs, crossed my arms over my tank bag and put my head on my arms, dropping off to sleep within about three minutes.

Twenty five minutes later, the alarm went off, and I felt a bit better, albeit stiff. I headed in to the rest area facilities for a quick break and to stretch my contorted limbs. Definitely not going to make the same time on this trip as on Friday!

This time, when I got back on the road, the sun was starting to rise over the trees. However, I was riding due west, so the light show was behind me, and I was riding into a cloudy, gloomy day that shortly became rainy as well. Once again, I had to stop and put on rain gear. True to form, the rain let up within minutes of me getting back on the road and I never saw another drop before I got to Memphis.

Finally, I started seeing signs for Memphis that started to look reasonable. Of course, I arrived around rush hour, so I got to deal with the loop at 8 a.m., and by now, my bike was feeling a little gimpy with the unhappy link in the chain.

I had written directions to the branch, but Googlemaps failed me again (rer!) and had me take a wrong exit to get where I needed to go. Figured it out within a couple of miles and remedied the situation. Got to the branch at 8:28 (per my IBA log), and when I got off my bike, I was thinking that my friend Kristine (probably the main reason I stopped by for a visit) had better be at work today! I walked into the warehouse and into the office. Kristine was on the phone, but her office mate Kathy actually recognized me (it took Kristine a minute or two...we talk almost daily at work, but she's not seen me for probably four years).

Once I got off the bike and seated in an air conditioned office, my 'want to' seemed to evaporate when it came to finishing the ride. I mean, dude. I was only half way done with my ride! Duuude.

While at the branch, I knew I needed another nap, so Jon, the manager, found me a cool, dark room, and I ended up stretching out on the floor with a sweater under my head. The fact that you had to go through the men's restroom door to get there was a little disconcerting, but it was around the corner from where any action was going on, and I didn't draw any attention to the fact I was in there. Thankfully, there was only one visitor during my brief stay there. I wanted to sleep a bunch, but knew I couldn't be getting back on the road really late, since it's at least 10 hours home from there. Finally, around 11, I got up and started making my farewells. I sprayed the snot out of the chain before getting back on the bike, and got my next fuel just up the road at 11:15, barely beating the rush at lunch time.

From this point, it was a short hop to get onto Highway 78 and ride southeast toward Birmingham. I wanted a few miles behind me before stopping for lunch, and made it an hour and twenty minutes before stopping in New Albany for lunch at McAlister's Deli. It was stinking hot, and I parked in the only sliver of shade I could find, which turned out to be on the back side of the store, next to the dumpsters. Once finished there, even though it had only been 76 miles since I'd filled up in Memphis, I topped off again before pushing on.

The next 90 or so miles were the hardest of the entire weekend. Looking back, I wonder what I was thinking... At the time, about 80 or so miles gone, I started having problems focusing my eyes and started doing the 'long blink.' You know...you blink for a long blink and intermittently open your eyes to make sure you're still going where you think you're going. I actually think there might have been a split sleep moment, and when my eyes opened from that, there was the superlative 'Oh crap!' adrenaline rush of realizing how sleepy I'd gotten. Hiawatha.

Since the adrenaline hit, I got a bit of a jolt and rode in a newly focused manner. The skies had gotten progressively cloudier since crossing the Alabama line, and in the distance, I saw what looked like a bunch of fog. Even got a picture of it. However, when I rode closer to it, I realized it wasn't fog so much as a vertical wall of water. Pouring. Cascading. Deluging. (can you verbify that?) Soaking. Four wheeled traffic slowed to about 30 mph, and I kept pushing through. There was only one bridge I could have stopped under, but the rain made it impossible to see anything stopped there, and I didn't want to be in some car's path who decided to occupy the same space.

Instead of heading for an exit, I decided to push on through the storm, because it couldn't be like that forever, right? It was probably 12 to 15 minutes of riding, and I didn't have any rain gear on me or my luggage. I wasn't worried about getting too cold, but I was a little concerned about the cell phone in the pocket of my mesh riding jacket, and my netbook in the right saddlebag. Both survived, intact, thankfully, and when I finally rode into the lighter skies which gradually dried up completely, I was almost chilly. That lasted for about 47 seconds before air temps started to rise. Shortly after that, it felt like I was riding into an oncoming hair dryer, and my clothes proceeded to dry.

After 100 more miles, I was just past Birmingham, AL, and needed to stop again. Even though I'd eaten lunch 3.5 hours earlier, I was ready to eat again...I was sorely out of body fuel. I stopped at the Cracker Barrel (only one for this trip!) in Moody, AL, and found a great spot under a shady tree. The heat index then was somewhere around 102, and I went ahead and took off my boots and socks to have a flip flop break in the restaurant.

While my clothes had all dried completely, my waterproof boots had proven quite waterproof, and no water got past them. Problem is, the water not getting past them was the water that had run down my legs into the top of the boot, so for the past 100 miles, my feet had been sitting in a bath, and when I peeled my socks off, each one had probably close to a quarter cup of water to wring out.

By the time I was leaving Cracker Barrel, it was a quarter of five, central time, and I knew I was approximately 5 riding hours from home, which was going to be cutting my 24 hours a little close. Once more to the fuel pumps and back on the road by five.

The ride to Atlanta was uneventful, and that 12th wind that I'd been looking for finally showed up. Traffic was totally fine through Atlanta and I pushed on to Commerce, GA before the next fuel stop. Here, I texted my neighbor to see if she'd be my end witness for the ride, and let my mom know my progress. Treated myself to an ice cream cone and left Commerce behind around 9:10 EDT. Most of the trip back, I ran a tag team with a cattle hauler who had a cow bell on his ICC bar, and finally pulled in for my final fuel receipt at a BP that is half a mile from my house at 10:34 p.m., and arrived home at 10:41, so stinking glad it was over!

In the aftermath, I left my dog at my mom's house until the following day, so all I had to do was unload the bike and hit the bed. My feet were a little swollen from the 400 mile super soaker sauna they'd had to live through, and I took five ibuprofen before hitting the hay. The next morning, I was up around 6:30, feeling 100% fine, and at work by 8:00. It was nice to drive the truck, for a change.

Give Me a Break!

Ahh, Sunday arrived, and with it, the promise of some resting, relaxing and good fellowship. I got up a little after 8 again, loaded up my tank bag with a quick change of clothes and headed out to my bike. There was still a large contingent of folks lingering and I said goodbye to Anson and his wife who were entering the elevator I was leaving, and went out the lobby to see my bike still blocked in by yimmidibidu's scooter :) that was parked there from the night before.

Initially, he and his riding buddies were going to be heading out at 9, which was fine, since that's when I planned to ride. However, their departure was delayed so I had to go back in to ask him to wrangle his Honda outta my way. I got to say a couple of quick farewells to Dwight, Chris, Bob, and was queried by Suomi what people think when the biker chick shows up at church :) I told him I had a change of clothes, but even so, it really wasn't that big of a deal. Hard to be inconspicuous when walking in though! In the parking lot, I got a hug from Dave, who asked if I was going to take another 1,000 miles to get home, and I gave an enthusiastic NO! (Turns out I was a liar pig on that one...)

The church for this Sunday was Redeemer Orthodox Presbyterian, and was literally 9 minutes away from the hotel. The main sanctuary looked like it had been part of a much older structure, and even had some cool stained glass windows, with pews in semi circles. The folks there were very friendly, and I had someone introduce herself even before I made it into the side entrance (thanks Pam!). The service was good, and after that, I got to visit with some more folks, and even stayed for Sunday School.

After changing back to riding togs, a lady in the bathroom told me her son rode, and complimented me on having all the gear for riding. Once back in the foyer, she introduced me to her husband, and I got to tell part of my fun travels. In the parking lot, Pam came back over and ended up asking if I had a blog :) Don't know if you'll see this or not, chick, but if you do, here's a big 'hey there'!

I rode back to the hotel, glad it was a short ride, but enjoying being on the bike, nonetheless. That's always a good sign. The plan was some serious afternoon nappage, with a return to the OPC that night, but I ended up sleeping a little long, so I settled for the webcast from my own church back home.

Around this time, a seed started germinating in my brain, and when I went out for supper that evening, I started thinking about how much rest I'd gotten on Sunday. And how it would be kind of cool to do another SS1000 on the way home, that I could stop off in Memphis and surprise some folks. And that everything seemed nicely in order to pull it off again. And how boring it would be to just ride straight home!

So I decided to do it again.

To Bash a Bug

This year was the 7th annual Bug Bash rally, held in Dayton, OH, drawing a cast of thousands. Ok, maybe dozens, but still a good attendance.

Saturday morning I woke up to the absence of an alarm clock, and the distinct feeling it wasn't as early as I'd hoped. Thankfully, it was still only 8 a.m., but my phone's alarm had been set for 7:30. I found the alarm to be more helpful when I turned the phone's ringer back on. I got up a little stiffly, but that soon wore off, and I headed downstairs, hoping to catch up with Smurf and see about getting the bike chain adjusted before we were all due to meet up in the Target parking lot at 9:30.

I found Smurf outside and he walked over to the bike with me, agreeing that the chain had been in fairly significant need of an adjustment (just because the slack was enough, it could stretch up and touch the swingarm..) Whilst I had been upstairs sawing logs, he'd been busy, and with a borrowed wrench and his own tool kit, adjusted the chain, informing me he'd gotten his hands greasy before even going to breakfast. That was super nice of him to take care of that for me, and if you're reading this, sir, thanks again!

Since there was now a little free time, I walked back in to get some of the free breakfast, and sat with Karl, Tom and Catt. I'd ridden with Karl last year in the north Georgia mountains, along with another member of the BBO, Larry, so it was kind of cool to get to see them again. Breakfast was a short break, and then everyone started filtering out into the parking lot, suiting up and heading across Wilmington Pike to the Target.

All told, there were probably 35 bikes in the group, with 29 of them going on the ride through the countryside. Lots of milling and talking before Mike (Mr. Host) summoned us all for some pre-trip instructions and etiquette. A cop did act as our blocker so we could all leave the parking lot as one body, and I was up in the first four of the regular bikes, riding behind the leaders and a few other riders acting as blockers for the multiple intersections we went through.

The ride was definitely more a leisurely cruise through corn fields than a lively race through mountains, but it was still fun to get out. We managed to find a few curves and definitely were out in the sticks. A lot of areas we rode through had trees overhanging the road, which provided cool tunnels, there were hills to negotiate, both up and down, and it turns out some of those signs that indicated a sharp curve ahead were accurate.


Our first stop was at Caesar Creek Gorge where 29 bikes were counted and cold water provided out of one of the chase vehicles. At this point, I was able to bum some batteries for my camera off Smurf (good thing he came to the rally...I'd a been in sorry shape!). My original batteries had died right as we'd left the Target parking lot, which is why there are no pics from that part of the ride.

At the stop, some ladies were doing yoga stretches, while Angie, the roving photographer was documenting everything digitally. Before heading out again, we all gathered for a group shot near a bridge, but shortly after that saddled up again. This time, I was second in line behind the leaders and blockers, with Chris ahead on his Honda VLX, and Matthew (Smurf Jr.) riding pillion.

More curves and winding roads ahead. There was one curve that had a decreasing radius that snuck up on me a little, to the point I said, "whoa!" in my helmet, but I managed to stay to the right of the centerline. The guy on the cruiser behind me did swing a bit to the left, and I was really glad there was no oncoming traffic. A few minutes later, there was a left handed 90 degree turn, and you didn't see it until you were on top of it that 60% of the road was covered with loose grass clippings. I was heading deep into the curve when I saw that, and immediately slid left off the seat and tightened up my turn to stay inside of the loose grass. It came up quickly and there was not really any way to warn anyone behind of the hazard ahead.

We rode on a few more minutes, but then a couple of the blockers peeled off and headed back the way we came. Then the leader did the same, and the one outrider ahead pulled over onto a side road, and the snake of bikes followed. Once down the road, that bike turned back the way we'd come, and the rest of us are looking at each other and wondering what the hang is going on. Parked the bikes (on a side country road) and got off to find out what was up. Word filtered back that a rider had gone down in the grassy curve, so then there were anxious moments to hear of her condition. Finally, we heard she was fine, but the bike was not in rideable condition. The folks who'd gone back for the downed rider left her bike there to be gathered on a trailer and brought her back to meet up with the rest of us. Margaret looked a little shook up, and wasn't terribly happy with herself, but we were all glad the worst appeared to be knees that had been scuffed up through jeans.

A few from the group headed back to the hotel to get a trailer and truck so they could rescue her bike, and the rest of us eventually got our bikes turned around on that stinking narrow road. A word about that side road. It was narrow, but from the looks of it, it seemed like it would have to be no narrower than 'The Box' that all BRC and ERC riders have to deal with (and do figure 8 turns inside of). However, every rider that attempted a u-turn on that road ended up stopping and having to back up to complete the turn. Except me. However! When I got near the end of the arc, I was also near the edge of the road and there was a nice line of gravel on the edge. Instead of braking, I straightened up and rode off the road. Across a ditch. Up a slight incline and completed the u-turn, popping back through the ditch one more time to get to the road. The Ninja. It goes offroad :)

This time, since we all turned around in place, I was back near the very end of the line of bikes, and it was pretty cool to see the serpentine effect of the riders in front of me, going over hills and through curves. We didn't have far to ride and ended up at Miranda's Old Time Ice Cream for lunch and a break from the sun. While there, I sat with Chris, Brian (Smurf), Matthew and Emily (Smurf Jr. and Smurfette), and yimmidibidu (or Bob). After a while, when the kids were eating their ice cream on either side of me, the guys wandered off and I was regaled on one side with the formula to make an atomic fart bomb (by a very creative rising 6th grader) and on the other side got to watch a phone video Emily had made of her two young cousins participating in 'Red Light; Green Light.' The kids were good fun and were definitely enjoying their first long distance ride. Mama Smurf was riding with one of the guys who'd gone back for the trailer, so she wasn't there for lunch.

Soon enough, we all crossed the street to get back to our bikes and started heading to Mike's house. Mike and Angie live on a cul de sac, and thankfully, the neighbors seem to like this annual gathering. Good thing, too, because we all descended like two wheeled locusts in the early afternoon and parked around the perimeter of the cul de sac, filling it completely.

The next 'event' was a bike swap. Pretty much everyone left his keys in his bike and tacit permission to take it out for a spin. I didn't want to be the first one to go out, and it was a few minutes before the first person headed out. Once that ice was broken, though, bikes were coming and going for the next two hours, easy. When it was all said and done, I rode 10 bikes other than mine, and really had a blast. Everything from a big adventure tourer, to a sport tourer, to a pure sport bike, to a cruiser. While I was out riding a ZX-14, its owner was riding along on my bike, probably making sure I didn't get in over my head. At the first stoplight, he came up beside me and told me not to be afraid to open it up on the next stretch. So I did. Yeeee. Haw. Wow. That was a stupidly fast bike, and incredibly smooth. It left my poor bike in yesterday's dust, with Anson trying futilely to whip it up to pace with the machine I was on. Once we got back to Mike's, he said he had a totally new respect for me having ridden 1,000 miles on my Ninja....can't imagine why! :)

Top two favorite bikes I rode were the BMW R1150GS and the FJR. Makes me think about the next bike. One day, though not terribly soon (more on that later). Finally, after ending my riding tests on a humongorific Honda Valkyrie, I was done riding for the night and ready for some food. It appears most everyone else had the good sense to start eating while I was out taking yet another bike on a spin. Lots of good food, though, and after I loaded up my plate, I went and sat by John (Atonic) and his wife Debbie. I'd last seen him in Durango, as he was the other 'mystery guest' who'd ridden out there for the Potato Ranch Rally. Since that rally, he'd actually been quite ill with diverticulitis and had been in the hospital for an extended period. His trip to Mike's was the first excursion out of the house that did not involve a doctor's appointment in nearly six weeks. During that time, he's lost 42 pounds, although I have to say, it's a bit extreme to diet like that, John!

I stayed until around 11 again, and headed back to the hotel after the door prizes and poker run winner had been announced. Bob (yimmidibidu) followed me back to the hotel on his bike, since he'd been stuck in the cul de sac all afternoon with a bad battery, and hadn't learned the way back. Chatted for a few once back in the hotel parking lot, and then off to bed, again ending the day around midnight. I was looking forward to Sunday, which was truly going to be a day of rest. I needed it!

The Tale of a Tail of Iron

My three birds for the long weekend just passed were: completing a SaddleSore 1000, getting Michigan onto my 'states ridden' list, and going to the Bug Bash, a rally in Ohio for folks from the BeginnerBikers.org website.

After doing some reading up on the SS1000, I figured I'd need to allow at least 18 hours for the ride, and since the BBO group was meeting around 7 p.m. for supper, I decided to leave town around 10 p.m. on Thursday night.

My brother lives about 5 miles from where I work, so I went directly to his house on Thursday, and flaked out on the couch. The kids were gone and the house was clean and quiet, thanks to my sis in law, Monique. Grant had the boys with him, and they swung by to pick up Monique for supper, and I was alone in the house. I know I drifted off sometime around 4:45, and woke up at 6:30ish. From that point until 10:30, I did no more than a light snooze for maybe another cumulative hour, and laid there at 10:30 when my cell phone alarm went off, wondering if I was actually going to do this thing.

I'd wanted to get on the road by 10, but the later it got and I wasn't actually sleeping, I set the alarm out a little bit. And then around 10, a very active thunderstorm rolled through, and I wasn't about to leave in something like that. Finally, around 10:45, I decided to get up and see how I felt after getting the last stuff packed up. I wondered if my brother and family would be back before I left (they were having a laaaate supper), but they came in about 5 after 11, when I was almost finished with the last packing.

The boys started peppering me with questions about my gear, my route, my plan, and wished me well as I walked out the front door to my bike at 11:20. The rain had subsided to a moderate drip, but I was all geared up for it, so I got on the bike and headed to my first fuel stop, the receipt of which would be my official start time. When the receipt printed, it was 23:30 on the nose, and I headed out. I had a Starbucks DoubleShot before I left, and had a container of water, along with some 'Energy' trail mix (fruit and dried nuts). I'd had a huge lunch (Chipotle burrito) and no supper, deciding to keep it light for the trip.

Once out on the road, I felt pretty good, so when I had to pass within two miles of my house, I wasn't tempted at all to bail. The drizzle kept up until I got closer to the NC line, but once past that, I was done with the rain for that trip. There was a good bit of traffic out there through the wee small hours, and not all of it belonging to big trucks. My first stop for fuel was just north of Knoxville on I-75, about 180 miles and 3 hours into the trip. Bathroom break, drink of water, snack break and I was back on the road within 20 minutes of stopping. Even with the rain being gone, I left my rain gear on as a wind block layer going through the mountains, and was glad to have the ability to use my heated hand grips.

The next stretch of road was the one where I got the sleepies on this trip. Just before Lexington, I was getting worn out, largely due to having to ride through miles and miles of dense fog. Radar has to be on high alert for this, and it took its toll. I was about to pull off for a stretch break when I saw a sign that Lexington was only about 39 miles away, so I punched my leg a few times, took some deep breaths and pushed on to Lexington. I stopped for fuel on the north side of town again, another 180 miles into my trip, and three more hours gone. This time, I drank and ate a little more and didn't push the stop so much. It still wasn't much more than 20 minutes, but when I got back on the road around 5:45, I felt much better. Cincinnati was only about 90 miles away, and from there I took a left toward Indianapolis.

This is when the beautiful thing happened...sunrise. The fields were all covered in low lying fog as the sun came up, but once it rose and burned all of that off, my body started to feel awake all over. I remember being part-way to Indy and thinking, "Huh, I sure don't feel like I've been riding the bike for the past 7 hours..." Yee haw!

Now, when I got to Indianapolis, I did a little bit of creative navigation. I hadn't brought a map on this trip, although I'd looked at my route online before leaving. I couldn't remember the number of the interstate I needed to get to Michigan, but figured it was 65, since the loop around Indy is 465, and I knew it shot off of there. I also remembered from googlemaps that they did not route me on 465, but took me into downtown and then out a northeasterly direction to get onto the interstate to Michigan.

Having that thought in my head, and seeing signs that advertised a lot of construction and slow down on the NE quandrant of 465, I opted to go into downtown and just pick up 65 from there instead of looping. Within an exit or two, I decided that probably wasn't the best plan, and was about to swing back around on the loop, when I saw signs for 65. Ah well, I thought I couldn't have lost too much time, so I kept going toward 65. Now, mind you, it's Friday morning at 8 a.m. when I'm negotiating rush hour traffic in Indianapolis, after having been on the bike for over 8 hours and going on around 3 hours of sleep.

The problem shortly came up that I-65 was not the interstate I needed, because it was heading northwest to Chicago instead of northeast to Michigan. I decided to stop at the next exit where I saw a gas station to look at a map, but it was a few miles up the road before I saw one to get off. Fueled the bike, parked it by the store, went in for a bathroom break, and then came out to look at a map. Except they didn't sell maps. I asked the lady behind the counter if they sold them, and she said no. She then asked where I was trying to go, and I told her I needed the interstate going to Michigan. That would be I-69, and all I had to do was go up one more exit and I'd hit the loop (465 again). Follow that east and it would take me to 69. At least I hadn't gone way past access to 69, but looking at the map after I'm back, that little detour added, oh, about 30 miles to the day.

Finally back on my way, I headed up 69 to Fort Wayne, Indiana. Not much going on up on that side of the state. A bit of road construction, but that's about it. When I crossed over the Michigan line, I started looking for fuel again. Pulled off in Coldwater, and once again had a map quandary. They had maps, but only localized ones that didn't cover the area I needed. I asked the girl behind the counter if she knew where Albion was. Nope. Went back to the map display, hoping I'd somehow missed a map of Michigan. Nope. Asked a lady stocking milk if she knew how to get to Albion, and struck pay dirt. Twenty five more miles up 69 and hang a right on 94 towards Detroit. About 10 miles down the road is the sign for Albion.

Once in town, it was time to find the plant I was going to. I knew the address, but hadn't looked how to get there. I knew Albion was small, and was hoping to stumble across the right street. Didn't happen, so I parked, getting ready to make a phone call, and a guy was walking around a pickup in front of me. I asked him if he knew where East North Street was, and sure enough, he did. It was a straight shot up the street I was on, which ended in a T at North Street. Turn right and you're on the eastern half of the street and about 10 blocks down was the plant where I was due to meet with a co-worker for lunch.

I'd told Bill I'd be there between 11 and 12, but with my later start from Greenville, it was 12:30 when I finally got there. This was my first long break of the day to get away from the bike, and it was nice. The facility is a fiberglass plant, and I got a quick tour of the offices before heading out to lunch. Eating only fruit and nuts for the previous 600 miles had me kind of peckish at that point. It was good to go to the local dive and get a half a turkey sub. Once back at the office, I printed out directions (yes) to get to my final location in Dayton, and got back on the road around 2:30. It was a quick shot back to the interstate and more construction on the way across to Detroit.

Before the city proper, though, I headed south on 275, stopping off in Carleton to fuel up and see one of Guardian's float glass plants. I didn't have time for a tour, nor had I been able to coordinate anything like that, so I settled for a few pictures from the outside, and then rode on. Further south and I picked up 75, going through Toledo and then finally to Dayton.

By the time I was getting into the city, I was bopping along on my bike, singing and swerving and probably causing lots of consternation in nearby cars. I got off at the exit for the hotel and turned left to get my final gas station receipt (and official end time) before heading back to the right so I could check in. While I was waiting at the light to cross over to the hotel, I saw this line of motorcycles filing onto the interstate, and I knew it had to be the BBO group heading to supper. The original itinerary had them leaving for supper around 7, and it was about 7:15 at this point.

I changed lanes to get into the interstate entrance ramp and raced off to catch them. Nearly overshot the exit I needed, but got off in time, tagging in at the end of the snaky line of bikes waiting to turn onto the main road. At the next light where the bikes were stopped again, I rolled forward into the peripheral view of the last rider, who was Mel, the cruise director/event coordinator for the weekend, and I flipped my visor up. She looked over, looked at my bike and back and me and hollered out, "Krystn??!!" I nodded and got officially included in the ride to the restaurant where the 20 or so bikes parked in a back lot.

When I got off, Mel announced my arrival, and a few folks immediately asked if I was able to get the Iron Butt ride done. I gave that an affirmative and a cheer went up. One rider came over and gave me a hug, who I later learned was a guy from the BBO website (MN_Smurf) who thinks the riding I do is cool, and who I'd asked to be my end 'witness' for the ride. His wife and kids were there as well, and at supper I sat with folks that I knew by screen name, but not much else, and it was neat to match up name and person. Finally figured out this one guy's screen name (that I pronounce something like yimmidibidu), and one guy across the table (Suomi) had read about the trip to Colorado and commented some about the sights and the lovely house I stayed at in Aspen :)

The restaurant was a BBQ place and the food was good, fast and hot. I didn't have any room for ice cream afterwards, but stood outside talking with some of my supper folks. I mentioned to Smurf that my chain was sounding pretty clackety and looked loose (although I had it adjusted a week before I left and lots of slack taken out), and asked if there would be someone who might be able to adjust it among the many wrenches attending the rally. He assured me it would be taken care of (which was a relief) and we all headed back to the hotel right around dusk.

I changed clothes and filled out the witness form for Smurf (aka Brian) to fill out. Mingled outside some, meeting a few new folks, but finally had to call it a day around 11:15. Went upstairs to shower a couple dozen hours of grime off me and got the light out right around midnight.

Thus ended day one.

Oh yeah, I forgot. 1,060 miles ridden per googlemaps (including my creative route in Indy)

To name a few...

Versys, ZX-14, FJR, VRSCD Night Rod, FZ6, R1150GS, Falco, Valkyrie, Rockster. And a Ninja.

These would be bikes I rode today (plus another HD that I don't know the name of). Three standouts were the FJR, the GS and the Zed-Ex, all in different categories, scratching different itches.

I've got the tired itch now, so more details will follow. Eventually.

It doesn't feel like it's iron, but...

the Iron Butt ride has been accomplished. More details to follow, but sleep overrides all at this moment.