When It Rains….

As the riders readied themselves and their bikes, morning storm clouds rolled in from the west.  Almost on cue, just minutes before the start, the clouds let loose a deluge.  The start would be a soggy one, but it would be nothing compared to what awaited the riders heading east.

As the riders headed out, the rain would blow through almost as quickly as it had started.  Nearly every rider would head for the Arch in St. Louis.  It was a large bonus only minutes away from the start.  Clearly the Rally planners wanted everyone to go there.  Predictably, Dean and his ever present cameras were waiting for riders at the Arch.  And just as predictably, I got lost going to the Arch and turned a 10 minute ride into a 30 minute ride.  This was not starting well.  This mistake was compounded by my decision to store my receipts in the left Jesse Bag, whereas every other Rally I had done, I had placed them in the right bag.  This mistake would not become apparent for many, many hours.

The Arch Bonus.  Strangers Kept Showing Up in My Pictures

Leaving the Arch I headed east on I-70 in beautiful sunshine.  I checked the weather on the GPS and found that partly sunny skies were predicted all the way to New York.  Once things settled down, I called Vicki to see what bonuses she had decided to go to on her way to Maine.  When she failed to answer, I left her a message that I was riding in blue skies and singing my way to West Virginia.  I would soon regret this message.

East of St. Louis the skies would begin to darken as I approached Indiana.  Soon the blue skies were gone, quickly replaced by low hanging bands of grey clouds.  And then the rain started.  It rained and rained.  And just when I thought I would push through the rain, it rained harder.  I checked the GPS again.  Once again the GPS confirmed the sun was out and it was not raining.  I was not swayed by this evidence as I continued to ride east through more and more rain.  I also made a mental note to immediately cancel my XM weather subscription when I got home. 

I called Nancy who confirmed my worst fears.  I was in the middle of a large green blob of rain that was moving east with me.  There would be no “punching through” this rain band.  I would only leave it when I headed north out of New York.  It would turn out to be 1123 miles of continuous rain before I would see dry riding again.  Had this not been the Iron Butt Rally, I would probably have ridden straight home, pulled the covers over my head and called the Rallymaster with a faked hamstring injury.  As it was, there was nothing to do but ride on.

I stopped for a large Bonus at Hoagie’s Restaurant in Moundsville, West Virginia.  The folks there had put out a huge spread for the riders.  There were just a couple of riders milling about while I was there. I really wish I could have spent more time thanking the hosts for their generosity, but I had to keep moving.  I wolfed down two bananas and got back on the bike. 

I was absolutely miserable, as I am sure every other rider was.  At least I was hoping they were miserable.  My water proof Seal Skinz gloves were useless.  The one piece riding suit and my boots were doing their job, but water was slowly being absorbed by my helmet.  Soon my head was soaked.  I stopped to put my heated jacket on as the night air brought on a strong chill.  Running the power cord for the jacket out of the rain suit forced me to keep the rain suit unzipped, only adding to my discomfort.  I was wet, but at least I was warm….I guess moist was a good description.  I could almost feel the fungus starting to incubate as I entered Pennsylvania.

Those of you that have read about some of my previous rides know how I feel about the Pennsylvania Turnpike.  It is without question the most dangerous road in the universe.  And to top it off, every time I am on it, it is raining and at night.  This would be no exception.  My pace decreased markedly.  Trucks passed me.  Buses passed me.  Old ladies driving Winnebago’s passed me.  Every rider in the Rally passed me, including those riding two up.  I swallowed what was left of my pride and pushed on.  Between my bad night vision and the rain, I never really threatened the speed limit.  I also did not know it at the time, but I lost one of my Motolights that night and the Phillips HID lights were not working properly.

As midnight approached, the J&M CB Radio started acting up.  Water had saturated the helmet, soaking the microphone.  This led to a major problem.  I could still receive telephone calls, but the person on the other end could not hear me.  The microphone had failed.  People would call me and the phone would answer.  I would scream into the microphone, but no one could hear me.  Call after call was simply “Hello?....Hello?... Chris, can you hear me?”  This was incredibly frustrating.  I had spent a considerable amount of money to switch from Autocom to J&M after the Autocom failed in 2005 halfway through the Rally.

Now the J&M had not even made it through the first night without failing.  There was nothing to do but ride on.  I did not want to take the time to stop and call Nancy to explain the problem.  That could wait until the morning.  I rode on through the night, rain continuing to fall.

I wanted to get through New York before morning rush hour.  I could not afford to be delayed for several hours in traffic.  New York was uneventful, but I was glad to have it in my rear view mirror.  The rain had slowed my progress.  I was nearly 90 minutes behind schedule for my planned arrival in Maine.  Though my windows were slowly closing, they were far from shut.  Given the horrible weather, I was hopeful that many of the riders had stopped at some point during the night.  I knew many of the top riders would not stop, but I also felt that the herd had probably been thinned somewhat. 

I finally broke out of the rain north of New York.  I was thrilled.  Almost instantly, I thought, “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”  The riders that had stopped would still have to cope with the rain this morning.  I pointed north, hoping to put some distance between them and me.

Two years ago, I had made this exact trek out of New York City to Buxton.  All things considered, I thought I was in pretty good shape this time.  I still felt very fresh and was making good time.  My ETA to the Maine bonus was getting better with every mile.  I would still be about an hour off my ideal time, but as they say, that was well within specs.

I called Nancy at a gas stop and informed her of the microphone failure.  She would get in touch with Roger, who would overnight a new headset to the St. Louis, where it would be waiting for me.  I asked her to pass along the news to my friends and family.  I wanted them to call and urge me on, but it would be a one way conversation.  I actually started to enjoy the calls in a strange way.  Many of the calls were very short, while others would go on for some time as Nancy would read emails and rally updates to me.  All this made the miles seem to fly by.

I pulled into the Maine bonus at Reynolds Motor Sport about an hour behind schedule.  The bonus required a 30 minute stay, so I planned a short nap.  I ran into Alex Schmitt who was getting ready to pull out.  It was then that found out about the mix-up in the Ferry schedule.  I was disappointed, but not tremendously.  In fact, the more I had thought about the Ferry route, there was true potential for disaster if the timing did not work out.  It gets a little complicated, but it has to do with the timing of the rest bonuses and the day only bonus in Nova Scotia.  Alex would make it, but only by the narrowest of margins.  An unfavorable ruling at the scoring table would have seriously hurt his chances at winning.

After checking in at the dealership, I stripped down to my long johns and stretched out on the parking lot for a short nap.  Fifteen minutes later, I awoke and forced some food down.  Reynolds had graciously provided food for the riders that would make this bonus.  Vicki Johnston arrived.  She had taken a more southerly route, and hit almost no rain.  I cursed under my breath.  Had I known that, I would have dropped down south and done the same thing. 

Thirty minutes after arriving I checked out and headed north.  I stopped and picked up two quick bonuses in nearby Bath.  I needed to get as far along as possible to be in position to hit the large bonus on Prince Edward Island at dawn Wednesday morning.  I also needed to start my rest bonus before midnight for my route to work.  I could then take well deserved 6 hour nap.  First a quick ride over to Nova Scotia for a large 24 hour bonus in Halifax.

One of the Bonuses in Bath, Maine.  The Outline of a Schooner

Crossing the border was quick and easy.  The Canadian Inspector asked me if I was on one of those Scavenger Hunts again.  Two years ago, I had explained this to another Inspector as I was on my way to New Brunswick.  I chuckled as I guess she must have noted it in my record. The record must say something like, “Likes to go to New Brunswick to visit obscure sites for something these Americans call a Scavenger Hunt.”  Given that this would be my third visit to New Brunswick in 2 years, I was beginning to suspect collusion between the IBA and the New Brunswick Bureau of Tourism.

I rode along many of the same roads I had seen two years ago, going through some of the same towns.  As I crossed from New Brunswick into Nova Scotia I noted a bunch of convenient hotels in Amherst that seemed to fit my need.  I planned to shoot south to Halifax, grab the bonus there and make it back to Amherst by midnight.  This would leave me well positioned to get the bonus on Prince Edward Island near dawn on Wednesday.  Things were looking good.  I should have known better.

I still could not talk to anyone, but Nancy and Paul kept me entertained with tidbits and information they uncovered about the Rally.  Nancy would read me Tom Austin’s Rally reports which painted a pretty good picture of the Rally.  Though I missed Bob Higdon’s reports, I thought Tom did an outstanding job with a difficult task.  Nancy and Paul would also watch the Star Traxx riders and try to decipher who was who.  I was not too concerned about the other riders.  The Rally would not be won on this leg, but it could be lost.  I was pretty confident in my ability to get stronger as the Rally wore on.  I just wanted to be positioned to make a push for the win in the final days.

Continue to Chapter 4

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