Chris' 2005 Iron Butt Rally

Chapter 11

It’s Déjà vu All Over Again 

Still though, I was elated to be in 4^th place.  As soon as the bonus packages were handed out, I tried to look for something obvious.  Unfortunately there were no “ride to the end of the earth and back for a zillion points” bonuses.  Some of the riders were heading to the west coast for a large bonus in Washington.  That didn’t seem right to me.  There were two other groups of bonuses, one group in New Brunswick (again) and the other on the Outer Banks of North Carolina.   

Bill Shaw knew the Outer Banks very well and was already on his way there.   I had been there before and knew traffic would be tight.  The trip there would also require another ferry ride.  New Brunswick did not look so inviting having just been there.  There were a lot of points there, but not only had I just been there, it was in the opposite direction of Denver.  There was also a good combo bonus between New York City and Las Vegas that tempted me. 

I called Paul on the phone and we went over the bonus listings.  We both agreed that going to Washington did not look tempting, but possibly New Brunswick combined with some large bonuses on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan might be a winner. 

I then started running numbers for New Brunswick and North Carolina.  The number of points between both locations was huge and I might be able to pick up some additional points along the way.  I put a rough route in the computer and came up with a route around 3300 miles.  I thought this sounded very reasonable.  Unfortunately, I did not take the time to put in the exact route and run the numbers.  If I had, I would have found that this route was well over 4,000 miles.  Still though, I decided this was the route for me.  I thought it had a real chance at winning.   

I packed up the bike and headed out.  By the time I had pulled out of the lot, there were not many bikes remaining.  I did not know how far I could go on just two hours of sleep, but I wanted to try and make the first bonus in New Brunswick by nightfall, as the big bonuses there were available in the daylight hours only. 

The bonuses in New Brunswick were laid out so you could travel the coast in a clockwise or a counter-clockwise direction.  Neither way seemed to make much of a difference.  I ended up choosing clockwise as I set the GPS for Campbellton, New Brunswick. 

As I rode north on I-95 through Maine, I encountered the occasional rider also heading north.  South of the Canadian Border, Shane Smith passed me, again.  This made me feel pretty good about the route.  Shane had run a good second leg and was sitting in 6^th place.  Another rider also past me, as it started to rain.  I began looking for a gas station to refuel and to don some heavier rain gear. 

South of Houlton, Maine I pulled off I-95 into a gas station.  There I found Shane and the other rider that had passed me, Rebecca Vaughn.  We all exchanged greetings as we all hastily put on our rain gear.  Rebecca asked me which bonus I was going to first.  I told her that I hoped to make Campbellton before nightfall.  All three of us headed out together, with Shane leading the way. 

As we approached the border, the rain got heavier and steadier.  Still though, it was not really affecting any of the riding.  Shane and Rebecca cleared the border ahead of me.  I was praying that I would not again be delayed at the border.  Fortunately, I was waved through with no incident, after explaining to the inspector what a scavenger hunt is.   

I had lost sight of Shane and Rebecca.  They were gone.  I assumed they were heading toward Campbellton, but could not be sure.  What I could be sure of, was the further north I went, the heavier the rain got.  My progress slowed considerably.  At times visibility was down to only a 100 feet of so.  My speed dropped to below 30 mph.  As the day wore on, the rain became heavier and harder.  Rain flew up inside my helmet from below.  My rain pants became water logged and my boots filled with water, the gore-tex lining trapping all the water inside. 

As I headed north, I saw a rider coming south.  I could not make out who it was, but I figured either Shane or Rebecca had given up on Campbellton and were heading to better weather.  I really wanted to turn around and cursed myself for continuing on.  It was just plain stupid and stubborn. 

None of that mattered, except for what it was doing to my progress.  As I watched the GPS, it became increasingly clear there was a chance I would not make Campbellton until after sunset.  All doubt of this was removed when I hit a horrible construction zone.  The pounding rain had turned it into a muddy quagmire.  I stopped and looked at the zone.  I thought about turning around and giving up on Campbellton.  I could not tell how long the muddy road would last.  With no other cars around, I did not relish trying to pick the bike up in this mess by myself.   

I began shivering from the cold and rain as I left the pavement.  The road was bad, but thankfully the pavement picked up again in a couple of miles.  But it was painfully clear, I would not make the Campbellton bonus today.  My next plan was to just get to Campbellton, get a hotel room and get the bonus at dawn on Tuesday.   

With about 40 miles to go to Campbellton, that plan was abandoned.  I was cold, drenched and exhausted.  I could not ride any further.  Darkness had fallen and the rain made it impossible to see.  I stopped at the next hotel. 

I walked into the lobby, water rolling off me, leaving puddles as I walked.  I checked in and got a timed receipt for my first rest bonus of the last leg. The clerk told me the rain was supposed to continue all through tomorrow. She commented how they had been in a drought and it almost never rains like this.  I thought this to be an outright lie, since I had now been to New Brunswick twice in my life and it had rained both times.   

I pulled my gear off the bike and sat on the bed in the room.  I had no dry clothes at all, other than underwear.  Nothing.  No pants, no socks, no shirts.  Everything was soaked through including all my riding gear.   

I was ready to quit.  Here I was sitting in 4^th place and I wanted to quit.  I was done.  I was not going anywhere but to Denver if I could figure out a way to get back down to civilization.  I was so tired I didn’t know what to do.  I called Nancy.  I had been out of contact with her since about 100 miles before entering Canada. 

I told her where I was and that I was done.  I didn’t care anything about any other bonuses in New Brunswick. And there was also no way in hell I was going to go to Prince Edward Island for any other stinking lighthouses.  If by some miracle I got on the bike the next day, then it would be headed straight for Denver and no place else.  And if I didn’t get on the bike, I would just sit here until the weather broke. 

Nancy listened patiently and didn’t say a whole lot.  She waited for me to blow myself out with my babbling.  When I was done, I think she said something like it sure would be shame to be all the way up there and not go on to Prince Edward Island.  And then, “Well you know best.  You know….. Prince Edward Island is worth 10,000 points, and, while I’m no expert, that sounds like a lot of points to me.” 

I sat there dumfounded.  Yeah, that was a lot of points.  I had ridden a lot further for a lot less already.  It was time to quit whining about the weather and every other problem facing me.  Every other rider in the Rally faced had their own demons.  Mine were no different.  It was time to get some rest and get ready to ride the last three days of the Rally.  That was all that mattered at this point. 

After hanging up, I bundled up all my wet clothes and went to the desk.  The lady at the desk was nice enough to let me use the hotel’s dryer.  I ordered some food from the restaurant next door and took it back to the room.  After eating, I retrieved my warm dry clothes, crawled into bed and slept for next 7 hours.  This is an eternity during an Iron Butt Rally, but there was nothing I could do until dawn the next morning. 

Shortly before dawn, I woke and packed the bike.  The weatherman did not disappoint.  It was still raining, though not nearly as hard.  After getting another receipt to end my rest bonus, I headed off.  The rain continued, but it certainly seemed to be getting much lighter.  By the time I hit Campbellton, it had nearly stopped.  I photographed the lighthouse and was off once again, heading toward the island of Miscou.  It seemed a long time ago, but it was only a few days earlier that I had been there.  I know someone in Denver had to be getting a good chuckle at that. 

This time I was looking for a lighthouse on the north coast of Shippegan Island, just south of Miscou Island.  I stopped in the town of Shippagan to ask for directions.  I always found those buildings with the giant “?” on them to be very helpful.  The young man inside knew exactly where the lighthouse was and pointed it out on the map.  Following his directions, I headed toward the lighthouse.  However, his directions did not match the directions listed on the bonus sheet.             

I spent the next half hour searching for the lighthouse with no luck.  I finally disregarded the bonus directions and followed those from the local.  I found the lighthouse several minutes later.  I turned into the parking lot and was surprised to see another rider there.  I was also happy to see the other was Rebecca and that she had made it safely through the storms the night before. 

It became obvious that she had had as bad a time the night before as me.  To say that we both had struggled would be a huge understatement.  We talked about the bad directions, the bad weather, the bad road, the bad everything.  She had made it all the way to Campbellton the night before, which was impressive given the conditions. 

I asked her where she was going and she said she was heading straight back to Denver.  I told her that had been my plan last night, but now my navigation team (Nancy) wanted me to go to Prince Edward Island (PEI).  We were only about 300 miles or so from there.  Nancy had also told me that I would have to ride right past Prince Edward Island going south, but I thought there was a distinct possibility that this was a lie just to get me to go there. 

I don’t usually ride with other riders during rallies.  It can make things very difficult unless all the conditions are just right.  But at this point in the rally, I thought both of us could use some company.  If things got nasty again, you knew there was at least one person who was just as miserable as you.  I asked Rebecca if she wanted to ride to ride together to PEI.  After a minute or so, we agreed to ride there together. 

The weather vastly improved as we headed south.  Even better, we began passing riders that were going north.  It made me feel better to think that we were already past a bonus other riders had not reached.  I know it made no difference, but I still smiled every time we passed one.  We crossed the Confederation Bridge and onto PEI.  The bonus location was on the extreme southern point of the island, another lighthouse. 

Neither one of us knew exactly where the lighthouse was, but I had put White Sands in the GPS.  That got us in the neighborhood of the lighthouse.  A few miles from where I thought the bonus was, I saw one of those helpful “?” signs again and pulled in to the visitor center.  The clerk inside gave directions right to lighthouse.

We got off our bikes and took each other’s picture at the lighthouse.  The attendant came out and asked if we were heading back to Denver.  Obviously, other riders had been here already.  At that point, I wasn’t sure where I was headed.  I knew I was way behind my fictional route to North Carolina.  I called Nancy to get some information. 

She had been speaking with both Paul Taylor and Leonard Roy about the route after PEI.  They were divided on what I should do.  They both agreed that going on to North Carolina was going to be very extreme.  Paul thought it was too extreme and that I would be time-barred.  He favored going for some large bonuses in Michigan.  Leonard agreed that North Carolina was a risk, but he thought it was doable. 

I didn’t know what to do, but then again, I didn’t need to do anything just yet.  I told Nancy to get in touch with Paul and tell him I would call him once I got off PEI.  I gave Nancy some other routes to run while I was riding.   

Rebecca had decided to head directly back to Denver.  I told her that I hadn’t decided where I was going yet.  Either way, we both needed to get back to the US and there was only one way to go from where we were.  We rode back toward the Confederation Bridge, this time paying the toll and getting a receipt for the bridge bonus.  I stopped after the toll to call Paul.  He asked me if I could make Ocracoke Island, NC, some 1200 miles away, before sunset the next day, Wednesday.  I told him that I thought I could make it, hitting it between 3:00 and 5:00 PM.   

He had changed his mind, and now thought bonuses in North Carolina were doable, though still extreme.   But, I had to get the bonuses during daylight on Wednesday.  I could then catch a two hour ferry from the Outer Banks back to mainland North Carolina.  From there, I would have around 30 hours to cover the 1800 miles back to Denver.  But I had to get the bonuses in North Carolina before sunset Wednesday. 

Though I was relatively fresh, having only ridden around 400 miles or so since I had started in the morning, I would need to ride the next 1200 miles straight through to make North Carolina by Wednesday.  I thought realistically North Carolina gave me the best chance at winning, but I also thought it gave me just as good of a chance at a DNF.  I hung up with Paul undecided.  I tried to call Nancy to get her opinion, but was not able to get through.  I knew I already had enough points for a Gold Medal Finish if I rode straight back to Denver.  If I picked up just a few easy bonuses along the way, I would probably finish in the top 10.  

Before I had even decided, I turned to Rebecca and told her I was heading for North Carolina.  I told her I was probably trading a gold medal finish for a DNF, but I was going to take a shot.  We agreed to ride together back to toward Bangor, Maine, where we would probably split up. 

We headed south, through Moncton, toward the border crossing in Houlton, Maine.  There was very little traffic and we made good time.  As we crossed the border back into the US, Rebecca took the lead into the night.  With my poor night vision, I was happy to have another rider lead the way. 

We arrived in Bangor, Maine and refueled.  We had both been riding since dawn with no break and the midnight hour was fast approaching.  Rebecca decided to get a hotel room and to take her rest bonus.  I needed to continue south toward North Carolina.  We wished each other good luck and agreed to meet again in Denver.  And with that, I set out alone, hoping I was doing the right thing.

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