Chris' 2005 Iron Butt Rally

Chapter 10 

There’s No Place Like Home 

            Just after I crossed into Maryland, I passed another rider on a GS which was also going east.  The bike was pulling into a rest area.  I didn’t know it at the time, but I would be catching up with Jeff Earls several more times during this leg. 

            I called Nancy as I approached the Washington, DC area.  We made arrangements to meet at a gas station just off the interstate near her house.  I would need fuel by then and she could bring me some supplies that I needed.  Another friend, Gordy Williams would also meet us there to lend some moral support. 

About an hour from that stop, I got a call from Paul.  He suggested I consider changing my route to include Lewes, Delaware and Cape May, New Jersey.  I would also dump Harrisburg, PA from the route.  To catch the new bonuses I would need to make a ferry from Lewes to Cape May.  I called Nancy and had her start checking ferry schedules.

             I needed to be at a large bonus north of Philadelphia before night fall.  She called me back with possible ferry schedules as I began to run routes in my head to see if the route would work.  I knew all the roads very well, including the expressway from Atlantic City to Philadelphia.  I began to think the route was doable.  Nancy made reservations for me on several of the ferries from Lewes, Delaware to Cape May, New Jersey.  I wanted to make the 3:30 PM ferry to have the most time to make the Philadelphia bonus. 

            After meeting her, I ran down to Alexandria, VA and then up to Baltimore for two quick bonuses.  I scooted across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and into Delaware.  I had called another friend, Bill Sage for help in Delaware.  He was able to talk me into the bonus location.  I took the picture and made it to the ferry just after 3:00 PM.  I felt really good and was finally able to relax.  By making the ferry, I thought I would be able to make up some valuable points on some of the bikes in front of me.

            That feeling lasted about 3 minutes until Jeff Earls pulled onto the ferry behind me.  I was happy to be able to talk with another rider, I just wish it had been a rider 30 places behind me instead of one 7 places in front of me.  After speaking with Jeff, it was clear that I was not going to be making up much ground, if any on him.  He had again ridden a very smart and efficient route.  We exchanged what we knew about the other riders, which was not very much.  We both believed that Jim Owen and Shane Smith had taken a northern route, but we did not know much more than that. 

            As the ferry continued on to Cape May, I plotted the 5 bridge bonuses in New York City into the GPS.  In total all 5 bridges were worth over 1,000 points, however I still hadn’t decided to go for them or not.  Jeff and I talked about he bridges.  I told him I had not decided about them yet.  Neither one of us mentioned the large bonus in Washington Crossing, PA, north of Philadelphia.  The natural route would take us right past this bonus.  If Jeff was too tired, or just not paying enough attention, he might just miss this bonus.  Though he didn’t say it, I’m sure he was thinking the same thing about me. 

            After leaving the ferry, we both rode over to the lighthouse in Cape May and took the requisite photo.  I headed out and lost sight of Jeff.  Riding west, I kept one eye on my rear view mirror, but did not see Jeff.  Perhaps he had headed directly to New York, I thought wishfully.   

            As I arrived at the bonus location in Washington Crossing, I ran into Bill Shaw, Sean Gallagher and several other riders.  After a couple of minutes, the inevitable happened.  Jeff arrived at the bonus, as I knew he would.  To think that a rider of his quality would make such a huge mistake was pure folly on my part.  It just wasn’t going to happen.   This was clearly a popular bonus as nearly a dozen riders had arrived by the time I finally departed. 

            I headed north on I-95, contemplating the bridges of New York.  At best I was non-committal about doing any of them.  I have been to New York dozens of times.  I have driven in the worst traffic New York can throw at you and I hate it.  Plus, I wanted to get plenty of rest before the third leg.  I was not sure any of the bridges were worth the aggravation and time it was going to take to get to them.  There was the additional problem that the bridges only had a toll one way, making navigation trickier.  The bonuses all required you to get a receipt for the toll for the bridge. 

            I somehow came up with the plan that I would head toward the bridges to see how traffic was.  Somehow I thought if traffic turned out to be bad, I could just turn around and head toward Maine.  Not exactly the clearest thinking I had done during the rally.  I set the GPS for the Outer Bridges on Staten Island to see what I could see. 

            What I saw was traffic, traffic and more traffic.  The back-up for the first bridge stretched several miles.  Of course the thinking at this point became, “Well I’m here, and I might as well as get this toll.”  I crept along with traffic and finally made it to the toll booth.  The EZ Pass paid the toll and I asked the attendant for a receipt.  Things got very ugly, very quickly.  Did I mention that I hate driving in New York? 

            Mr. Attendant told me he could not give me a receipt and that I would have to get one from EZ Pass.  Now having gotten receipts for tolls paid by EZ Pass numerous times, I was a little taken aback.  I explained that I was on a scavenger hunt and only needed a receipt for the toll.  He adamantly maintained he could not give me a receipt.  Frustrated, I pushed the bike to the side and dismounted. 

            I walked back to the booth and tried to reason with Mr. Attendant.  I told him I would pay cash.  He could not take cash from me because the EZ Pass had already paid.  So I did the next logical thing.  I told him I would pay for the person behind me. 

            “Do you know him?” 

            “No, I told you, I just need a receipt for this toll?” 

            “Well I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but that is illegal and they don’t pay me enough to deal with this [expletive deleted]” 

            He bent over at that point and appeared to reach for something.  I couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but it soon became apparent when someone tapped me on the shoulder a minute or so later.  At that point I was trying to hand cash to the driver behind me to pay his toll and get a receipt.  My quest was abruptly interrupted when I turned to see a uniformed Port Authority Police Officer motioning me to follow him.  This was not a good sign. 

            I followed the officer and soon noticed another officer following me.  Between the traffic and my earplugs, I could only understand about half of what they were saying, but I felt confident they were not there to give me a receipt.  After more questions and answers, a manager or supervisor of some type came out to speak with me.  He seemed to greatly enjoy wagging his finger at me.  This time, I was only half listening, just wanting to get on my way to Maine at this point.  He lectured me about blocking traffic, creating disturbances and a whole litany of things that did not interest me.  Then he said one thing that did interest me.  

            As I recall, he said, “Blah, blah, blah….blah, blah, blah, blah….blah, blah, blah, blah, blah….I’m going to give you a receipt and I hope you have learned a lesson.”   

“Oh, yes sirree, I certainly did learn my lesson.  Whatever you say.  Can I have my receipt now?” 

And after all that drama, I got my receipt.  A crummy non-conforming receipt that would cause problems later at scoring, but a receipt none the less.  I promptly buried the EZ Pass inside the Jesse side bag and rode off.  And I still hate driving in New York. 

I went on to get the other four bridges, obtaining regular conforming receipts all four times.  I even got to pay for the Cross Bay Bridge 3 times while only crossing it once.  But I got even with them by crossing the Verrazano Narrows Bridge 3 times and only paying once.  A much better value as far as bridge crossings go.   

At some point I am going to look at the GPS track I took during the 4 hours I was in New York just to see where the heck I actually went.  It certainly was not a very efficient route.  I had already given up on the George Washington Bridge and was just trying to get out of New York when I accidentally stumbled upon it.  I got my last bridge receipt and headed north. 

I was way behind schedule at this point.  I had hoped for six hours of sleep, but as they say, that horse had left the barn quite some time ago.  By the time I finally pulled into a Motel 6 south of the checkpoint, I would only manage 2 hours of sleep.  I woke groggy and irritable.  I certainly would not be heeding the advice of the Rally Mistress to arrive at the Maine checkpoint rested and ready to go. 

As dawn broke Monday morning, the weather was pasty and dreary.  Off and on falling drizzle was more of a nuisance than a concern.  I pulled into the parking lot of Reynolds Motorsports with about an hour left before the penalty window started.  The Rally was now two thirds over.  I was tired, but happy to be at the checkpoint and see how the other riders had done. 

I saw John Ryan.  He had just gotten in from Galveston with little or no sleep.  He had not been able to get any other bonuses.  His score was going to take a serious hit. 

Vickie Johnston looked good, but not happy with her score.  She had unfortunately ridden past the large bonus at Washington Crossing which would drop her a little in the standings.  Bill Shaw jumped up 10 spots with a good second leg.  As I thought, all the scores were considerably less than the first leg.  There were just not enough points available.  Many of the riders had a difficult leg missing bonuses or having other problems.  Another 7 riders dropped out of the rally for a variety of reasons bring the total of riders out of the Rally to 12.

I picked a spot and began working on my paperwork.  I checked, re-checked and rechecked again.  Once again, I accomplished my mini-goal of not losing any points at the scorers table.  My “crummy” receipt from the first bridge in New York was eventually accepted after a favorable ruling from the bench.   

After being scored, Bob Higdon, the official Iron Butt scribe cornered me for an impromptu interrogation. 

“Are you tired?” 

“No, I feel good”….good and tired would be more like it. 

“Are you lying to me?” 

“No”, I lied. 

“Would you tell me if you were lying to me?” 

“Of course I would” as I walked away hoping to not be struck by lightening. 

Bob has a way of bringing the rally to life.  I love his writing.  Despite the fact that he may not be wrapped any tighter than the rest of us, I would read the telephone book if he wrote it.  He’s that good. 

Food was set out for the riders and I quickly wolfed down four of the Egg McSomething sandwiches, along with a couple of bananas.  I pulled out my laptop and got ready to plan the final leg. 

Mike Kneebone gathered the riders to announce the scores and hand out the final leg bonus sheets.  The good news was that I had climbed into 4^th place with the best leg of all the riders.  The bad news was that I was still way behind the leaders.  Jeff Earls, now in 2^nd place, had me by over 4,500 points and I was over 8,000 points behind the leader, Jim Owen.  I had chipped away at them, and if my plan held true, I would catch them around the 40^th day of this 11 day rally. 

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