No Room at the Inn

I arrived in Halifax, pretty close to on time.  I grabbed the bonus and began backtracking toward Amherst.  I arrived in Amherst shortly before midnight and picked up six double cheeseburgers from a McDonalds next to a hotel.  I went into the hotel to get a room.  Things were about to get bad.  Not only did they not have any rooms, there were no rooms available in the entire town.  There were no rooms in the next town.  There were no rooms available within a thousand miles of where I stood with my 6 double cheeseburgers!  I wanted to scream out, “For the love of God man, how can there be no rooms available?  Who would want a room in this backwater, nothing town?”  However, I realized that I now desperately wanted a room in this town. 

I felt like crying.  I had been riding hard for over 30 hours and had started the Rally with a sleep deficit.  But there was nothing to do.  I returned to the parking lot and pulled the bike into a dark corner.  I ate half the hamburgers and threw the rest away, hopefully far enough to keep the rats on the other side of the lot.  It was cold with the temperature hovering in the 40’s.  I put on everything piece of clothing I could, including my rain suit.  Using the bike cover as a blanket, I went to sleep on the pavement, setting the timer for 5 hours.  I really needed some quality sleep, but this was as good as it was going to get.

My Sleeping Accomondations.  Note the Screaming Meanie Next to the Cover.

Shortly before dawn, I woke the next morning.  I walked back to the McDonalds and picked up another receipt to end my sleep bonus.  I was cold and stiff, but I felt somewhat refreshed.  I called Nancy and had her pull up the weather.  She thought it looked reasonably good, but there was a slight chance of rain.  I hopped on the bike and headed out for Prince Edward Island.

The Confederation Bridge to PEI is one very, very long bridge, but it is a pleasant ride across.  I grabbed the Green Gable House bonus on the island back tracked toward New Brunswick.  I was headed toward Campbellton and then on to the large bonus at Perce Rock, New Brunswick.  I needed to hit the Perce Rock bonus around 1:30 PM to make the Chicago bonuses work.  Much later than that, then the entire route would go down the drain. 

Green Gable House on Prince Edward Island

I pulled into Campbellton later that morning.  The directions on the bonus were not correct, but having been there in 2005, I knew the town wasn’t that big.  After asking directions, I found the large Salmon bonus and took off for Perce Rock.  Things started going awry quickly.  The road to Perce rock was a two lane coastal road that wound around the Gaspe Penninsula in the extreme northeast of New Brunswick.  Traffic moved at a snail’s pace.  To make matters worse, construction delays dotted the entire route.  I crawled along the last 100 miles.

The Giant Salmon in Campbellton.  

I finally pulled into Perce Rock a solid hour and a half behind schedule.  I was anxious to get the bonus and start backtracking.  I failed to anticipate the long walk out to the bonus across the ocean floor.  This easily consumed another 45 minutes.  By the time I returned to the bike, I knew my plan was in serious jeopardy.  It was about to get much worse.

Perce Rock Bonus.  You Walk Across the Ocean Floor to the Large Rock

After a Long Walk There is Nothing Like a Picture of a Flag on a Rock

As I returned to the bike, I stopped in my tracks.  The fuel cap for the auxiliary tank was gone.  I had refueled 60 miles back outside of Campbellton.  I instantly knew I had failed to replace the cap after refueling.  The auxiliary tank was still filled with fuel.  Amazingly, it did not appear as if any fuel had sloshed out during the past 60 miles.

A lot of success in long distance riding comes from doing the same thing all the time.  Creating routines and staying with them is extremely important.  When you are tired, it becomes easier to make mistakes, both physical and mental.  My fuel stops are almost always identical, whether in a rally or not.  Everything from where I put my helmet to which hand I pump fuel with is done the same way….all the time.  Nancy always complains that I am always sitting back on my bike, ready to go, treating every stop like an Indy pit stop. 

The routine had now been upset.  Because of problems with the J&M Headset, I had to make telephone calls during gas stops, something I would never do normally.  At the last stop, I had used the speaker phone on the cell to call Nancy.  In talking with her, I became distracted and left the cap on top of the auxiliary tank as I rode off.  I could picture it in my mind just sitting there. 

I tried to think of anything I had to secure the opening, but never really came up with anything.  Cursing myself over and over again for incredible stupidity, I started riding back to Campbellton.  I needed to retrace my route anyway on my way to the Upper Peninsula in Michigan.  I tried to not think about the three gallons of gas that would spill over the hot engine if I happened to drop the bike.

Heading out of Perce Rock, it soon became apparent that I had other problems.  I was one of the last riders, if not the last rider to obtain the Perce Rock bonus.  My calculations had not anticipated a long walk to obtain the bonus.  I started running routes with the GPS.  The Chicago bonuses were going to be a problem.  Even with little or no stops, the timing was not looking good.  Traffic was also becoming a problem.  Every small town was putting me further and further behind.  Every construction zone seemed to conspire against me.

I came to yet another red light, approximately one mile from where I had last refueled and lost the fuel cap.  As I sat there, I looked at an object on the ground in the lane across from me.  Amazingly enough, my fuel cap sat there, battered but still in one piece. I hopped off the bike and went over and picked it up.  I pulled back into the same gas station I had left hours before and tried to mate the cap back with the tank.  The threads were severely damaged.  I could not get the cap to fit back on.  

Using a pocketknife I was able to sufficiently repair the cap where I could get it back on the tank.  It would only turn about a quarter turn, but at least fuel would not spill out if the bike went down.  With that problem fixed for the time being, I pulled out the laptop to check the route.  As I suspected, Chicago was not going to happen.  I had lost at least two hours off my route.  Without the large Chicago bonuses, the route was doomed.  It was time for a change.

Continue to Chapter 5

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