My First Official Saddle Sore 1000 (Ride Report (c) 1997 Mark Johnson) Dates: Sept 6th & 7th, 1997 Bike: 1984 Gold Wing 1200 Aspencade Previous long rides: 200-300 miles It's Official! Return Receipt Signed 9/26/97 Certification Received 12/26/97 It reads: "SaddleSore 1000 This is to Certify that on September 6, 1997, Mark A. Johnson rode a 1984 Honda Gold Wing Aspencade a total of 1,070 grueling miles in less than 24 hours starting in Fort Worth, Texas continuing to Monroe, Louisiana, Little Rock, Arkansas and Oklahoma City, Oklahoma before returning to Fort Worth while participating in the Saddlesore 1000." Man, 3 a.m. came early. Especially when I had such a tough time going to sleep last night. I don't know when I eventually fell asleep, but I know I couldn't have gotten more than 4 hours sleep. Oh well, that's life. I've been planning and packing for the past two weeks and last night the perishables went into the cooler. Some of the things I packed: Tools, rags, rain gear, jacket, gloves, clear (night) riding glasses, and sun glasses. I also took to heart some of the other items that I read about in tails of other people's SS1000 runs. • Power bars for the times where I'll need something but a stop isn't appropriate. • Water (2 half gallons in the left saddlebag). AND a large water bottle for the handle bars so that I can drink along the way. Hydration is important. • Gas (DOT-approved 1-gal. container in the right saddlebag). By the time I get ready, get a police officer to witness my departure sheet, and gas up to start the clock it's 4:16 a.m. I never realized how many people are out this early. I also learn that, to find a cop when you need one, you have to go to the Police Station. The starting odometer reading is 30980.5 (30979 at the police station but the clock doesn't start until the receipt is printed for the first gas-up). The route I have chosen is from N. Richland Hills, TX (a suburb of Ft. Worth), along TX-121 to TX-114 to TX-635 to I-35W south to I-20. Heading east along I-20 I'll be going to Monroe, LA. From Monroe, I'll turn north on US-165 to US-425 to US-65 to I-630 to US-67. This is the long way of saying I'll be going to Little Rock, AR. From Little Rock, I'll then hook into I-40 and take it all the way into Oklahoma City, OK. From there I'll turn back south on I-35 and head back to Ft. Worth, TX, grab the I-820 Loop back eastward into N. Richland Hills again and be home. The computer (PC Miler) reports this as a total of 1036.4 miles. Plenty to spare just to be sure I don't short myself and spend all this effort just to be disqualified because of an odometer that isn't 100% accurate (none are). I know before starting out that for a 1036.4-in-1 I have to have an overall average speed (including all stops) of 44 mph (1036.4 / 24 = 43.18333...). Meanwhile, back at 4 a.m. on Saturday morning, I miss the computer selection of route and do what I always do (habits are hard and auto-routes are sometimes odd): I take I-820 to TX-121 and then go to TX-114. The computer's "starting point" was "local" roads to TX-114 then to TX-121 and on to I-635. I take TX-121 to TX-114 Instead. I also miss the I-635 junction and take TX-114 all the way to I-35w. Oh well, there's no going back. The clock is ticking. It may even be farther than computed. I'll have to see if I can plug in actual routes when I get back. Aside from the roughness of I-20 and the odd smell in the air the closer I get to Louisiana, the trip to Monroe is uneventful. I'm glad that I put my leather jacket and riding gloves on because 60º F temps get downright cold when you hit a low spot in the country. Also the sunglasses in the side fairing pocket are perfect at sunrise somewhere before I get to Shreveport, LA. The computer says this leg should take 4 hours and 45 minutes (4:45 from now on). Stops are tank-to-tank all the way (a first for me with more than 1 interim stop). When I get to Monroe, I am already behind schedule according to the computer. But the computer didn't figure in gas and rest stops. The important number is the average speed. Anything above 45 mph will be fine. Remember this is a rally and not a race. The stats for this leg are: • 2:04 to Tyler, TX; 137 mi.; 3.641 gal; 37.65 mpg; avg. speed (AS) 66.26 mph; Time of Stop (TOS): 0:16 • 2:00 to Minden, LA; 128 mi.; 3.7 gal; 34.73 mpg; AS 64 mph; TOS: 0:06 • 1:15 to Monroe, LA; 79.6 mi.; 2.211 gal; 36.0 mpg; AS 63.68 mph; TOS: 0:30 In Monroe, I gas up, take a break, and call home. I promised to call at each turn of my loop and left a copy of the route with my family. I also generally made a pest of myself to family, friends and GWRRA members ever since someone put the bug in my ear about this trip. Thanks Mike ("I own channel 1") Barchers. I've gone from originally being only slightly interested in a SS1000 to getting pretty pumped about it in the last couple of days. Later discussions with others indicate that this is one of the big things about doing a successful SS1000 - getting psyched for it in the first place. I really only had about 2 weeks to plan properly. In that time I broke some of the Iron Butt Association rules by doing some maintenance. None of it was major. I changed the oil and filter, the air filter, and spark plugs. I didn't get the fuel filters I ordered until Friday afternoon, so one went in the saddlebag instead of getting installed. I also added new Iso Peg highway pegs and Kurriaken toe rests (labeled for a 1500 but they can fit a 1200 with an additional washer at each nut). These two items probably had the biggest impact on comfort during the SS1000. The foot pegs are far-and-away better than what I already had. The toe rests give a little variation foot positions that is really needed as the miles pile on. When using them your foot is supported at the ball and heal (like when you stand) instead of at the arch as factory riders pegs work. Unlike floorboards the toe rests (in conjunction with the stock pegs) allow a wide variation in foot placement. I also made a slew of new tapes from my CD collection. They come in very handy as entertainment throughout the trip. At 10:05 a.m. I find myself shucked of the leather jacket in favor of a blue, long sleeved "work" shirt. This is over the Harley T-shirt I have on and only has the bottom 2 buttons fastened. No, I'm not trying to hide the shirt. I'm getting ready for the sun. This is one of the best sunscreens you can use. It doesn't wash off with water and it's good for all day. It also helps your natual cooling system work better when riding. Perspiration is retained a little longer so your body is better able to cool itself than it can in the direct sun. The trick is to a get light weight shirt that breathes. I also have gone from the fingered riding gloves of earlier this morning to the fingerless type with padded palms. The HD logo looks up from them, but what can I say? If nothing else, their clothing line is built to last. These gloves are about 5 years old and going strong. I turn Fuentina north. Check my "Project Wing-O-Dor" for details of how she got the name. I also have a Punch #40 (cigar) sparked and running as I pull out and head north on US-165. It's a little earlier than I normally start with the cigars, but this is special. I have a cigar selected for each turning point of the ride and a great little "off shore island" smoke is cowering in a corner of my humidor for when I successfully complete this SS1000. Sadly these plans never come about. But you'll have to read farther to learn why. Everyone warned me about this leg of the trip. That's why I changed my original plans and headed east first instead of north into Oklahoma City. This places US-165 earlier in the day when I'm better able to handle it's design. It has a lot of local traffic, is a 2 lane undivided state highway, and it frequently passes through the heart of many small towns with the accompanying slow speed limits. This early, fatigue isn't as much of a problem as I expect it will be later. Boy were all those people wrong! US-165 is well paved and high-speed for a large portion of the way. However the sections that are "bad" are painfully so. The minority distance of the leg takes the majority of the time. It's mostly slow average speeds stuck following vehicles out for weekend family outings. Consider this leg just as was described by the detractors. It has lots of stop lights that are good opportunities to stand and stretch, but are killer on the clock. • 1:54 to Star City, LA; 109.4 mi.; 2.79 gal; 39.21 mpg; AS 57.58 mph; TOS: 0:11 (this leg sure seemed longer) • 1:17 to Little Rock, AR: 80.2 mi.; 2.089 gal; 38.39 mpg; AS 62.49 mph; TOS: 0:22 (another call home) I've now passed the halfway mark. According to the odometer reading I've covered 534 miles. It's now 1:45 p.m. which is 9.5 hours into the trip. It's also about 2 hours after my normal lunch time. Figuring gas mileage in my head is taking longer. I've gone through at least 2 of those big bottles of water and a power bar or two. I know that fatigue is starting to raise its ugly head. If she gets a look at me though she'll run away screaming. I knew, heading out, that the first half would be where the best times and longest runs would happen. I'll start getting tired later. I expect stops to be longer and more frequent. Little do I know how that idea will later translate into a physical reality. I have now proven to myself that I can do 500 miles "tank-to-tank". And while the couple of long stops may not make that statement totally accurate to hardcore rally types, it's good enough for me. Also the stats verify what I suspect. I'm doing well on the average speed and about 3:43 ahead of schedule. • First half: 9:30; 534 mi.; 14.33 gal; 37.27 mpg; AS 56.21 mph (including stops) It's time to find a place where I can break open the cooler, eat one of those sandwiches I packed, drink some more water, and take a nap since I have the extra time. A nap now will help a lot later in the trip. A rest stop east of (North) Little Rock, AR along I-40 seems the perfect place. I'm able to stretch out on a picnic table in the shade and try to catch 40 winks. How long does a "wink" last, anyway? Is 40 too many or not enough? Sleep never comes. I still take the entire hour I planned to eat, wash my face, and lay on a picnic table to relax some. I even get a picture of Fuentina at this milestone. Weird how all the bugs get on the windshield sometime after this picture is taken. Do bugs sleep late after being up all night? • 0:32 to Rest Stop; 40.6 mi.; no gas; AS 76.125 mph TOS: 1:13 So far no one messes with Fuentina when I park her. Maybe it's the sight of this hot, sweaty, do-ragged, booted, Gargoyled, lumbering, swaggering (those cowboys walked like that for a reason) stranger. Maybe they're just nice people. Take your pick. I know the one I'm choosing. I also decide to forgo a cigar right now. It's a little warm and some of these good smokes run a little hot when riding anyway. I'll select one on the last leg of the trip. Heading on down eastbound I-40 into Oklahoma City, I start noticing that the "sore", in SaddleSore, has a definite basis in reality. I know Fuentina will do between 140 to 180 miles on a tank. But I'm not sure how far away a station may be if I push it. So I have mentally set up 120 miles as a "run". Now, though, I start thinking about the next stop about half way through a "run". When the digital trip meter shows ~60 miles I'm noticing it in the seat of my pants, my knees and my ankles. Thanks goodness for the different sitting positions I have to choose from. It would be a real killer if I only had the stock pegs and none of the options I've added. Something else is apparent too: I'm paying more attention to the mileage instead of enjoying the music and the scenery as much. I know it's "not good" to focus on the miles because time dilates and it can seem to take forever to get to the next stop. I work on changing my focus, but am only mostly successful. This is also the leg that I worried about the most. I'm driving into the sun. The sunrise wasn't as bad as I expected. By the time it got bright enough to be bothersome, it was also high enough to hide behind the bill of the helmet. The sunset is every bit as bad as I expected, and worse. I have to shift the helmet forward to lower the bill. Eventually that doesn't work any more. I tilt my head forward but I soon end up stooped over like a crotch rocket rider. Anyone passing me right now might suspect my heritage as they pass me and see me in the stereotypical "Indian pose" with my left hand shading my eyes as I ride into the sunset. More than likely they just shake their heads in wonder at the lunatic on the bike. This I-40 leg is probably the toughest because it's the heat of the day and riding into the sunset is a real drag on what little constitution I have. Oh, and about those cigar plans. Remember the plans I made, days ago... about which cigars to smoke? The cigars I promised to tell you about earlier? Forget them all! This ain't no pleasure cruise! This is war! Somewhere after leaving the touchstone of Little Rock, AR., I forget all about cigars. The ride... The next stop... Traffic, time and miles... My sore butt! These are all that fill my mind! In fact, from looking at the stats, this is the trip as far as my overall impressions and memory go. • 1:15 to Van Buren, AR; 107 mi.; 4.093 gal; 36.06 mpg; AS 85.6 mph TOS: 0:15 • 1:24 to Okemah, OK; 118 mi.; 3.715 gal; 31.76 mpg; AS 84.29 mph TOS: 0:15 • 0:58 to OKC (I-40/I-35); 73.1 mi.; 2.138 gal; 34.19 mpg; 75.62 mph TOS: 0:07 Now I'm on the home stretch! Under normal circumstances Oklahoma City, back to Ft. Worth, is the shortest (time-wise) leg of the whole trip. It's all interstate and (baring construction) an easy drive. Some riders might call this leg boring but, given that this is the last leg of the trip, easy and quick is just what the doctor ordered. Before I go on though, I stop by my parent's house for a quick shower and some more rest. As I fill up at the turning point (hence the short miles on the last fill-up) I pack away the sunglasses and bring back out the clear glasses because it's getting dark. In spite of my Dad's Cherokee lineage, Mom's Dutch heritage doesn't help as my face gets a little redder than usual in spite of sun block. So much darker that when I unexpectedly ring the doorbell at my folk's house, Mom asks my Step Dad to answer the door because there's a "strange man" there (see the earlier personal description and darken my complexion by 2 or 3 shades). On closer inspection, I have my typical "biker tan" in spades! Think of an inverse raccoon with lighter shades down the side where the chin straps of the helmet go. They have a good laugh. I have a great shower and lie down. However, sleep is still elusive. To paraphrase a Grateful Dead tune: "The last leg is the hardest, boy; better take my advice. You know all the rules by now; with your life don't roll the dice." I know from the last two runs that I'd better expect to make more frequent and longer stops. It's now about 10:00 p.m. and I'm tired. With only 4 hours sleep in a 40-hour period (remember I had to get up for work at 6 a.m. Thurs. and could only sleep 4 hours Fri.) caution is now the name of the game. I have the SS1000 beat since the Oklahoma City to Ft. Worth run is usually a conservative 3-hour ride. Only fatigue and carelessness can ruin it. I have sworn to everyone that I'll pull over and get a hotel if I can't make it. Are there any hotels between Oklahoma City, and Ft. Worth? This is where it gets tricky. I can make it. But I'm tired and my judgement might be impaired. A dark stretch of slightly meandering, mostly flat highway can combine with those factors and be a real killer. I promise myself that I'll stop and stretch any time I need it. Even if it means 30 mile "runs". Once I get going though it's very easy to pass the "notice the soreness" point (now down to ~30 miles) and tell myself that another 30 will be okay. After that 60 miles, it's only a little more to the halfway point and my planned gas stop. This is trouble waiting to happen. In Ardmore, OK I have a real talk with myself about this attitude. After Ardmore I make an additional stop at a truck stop in Denton, TX, to stretch. This stop is less than 0:15 (0:08). It doesn't qualify as a rest stop and isn't required to be logged. What a difference it makes! The last 30 miles are relatively easy. If I would have done this on the whole leg, my comfort level would have been much higher and total times wouldn't have been impacted so much as to prevent completion of the SS1000 in the allotted time. In Ardmore I also unlimbered the leather jacket again and throw it on over the long sleeved work shirt. Not that much cover is needed, but it's easier than taking off the shirt and stowing it. And the shirt isn't quite enough anymore. At 1:14 a.m. I get to N. Richland Hills, TX, again. I hit the same gas station I had used the day before at 4 a.m. It just doesn't seem that it could have only been the day before. Wasn't that a week ago? I also note that I have a very low tolerance for fools and idiots. After standing by the pump for more than 10 minutes (remember the clock is still running until this last receipt), lifting the pump level several times, and pushing the intercom a couple of times, I notice that the attendant is milling about in the back part of the store and ignoring the pumps. Dang it! She can arrange doughnuts later. I have important issues that need addressing! The exclamation points can almost be seen visibly as I mumble to myself. Heading toward the store from the gas island I notice what look to be a group of about 10, very white, skinheads. They're milling about along with the typical melange of late-night ruffians. I'm not quite sure why none give me any lip. See the previous observation about my swaggering, do-ragged, tanned, and jacketted appearance. Now combine that with the "thousand-yard-stare" anyone who's done a combat tour will remember. Maybe these are just polite scumbags. For whatever reason they all give me a wide berth as I amble into the store. Needless to say, I have to hunt the attendant down and spend precious time explaining that when her gas pump console beeps it means someone wants gas. When I finish filling up this last time I go back in to get that all-important computer date/time stamped receipt that signals the end of the rally. I find this woman mangling the credit card machine for another customer. After 5 more minutes of fiddling she starts in on power switches and cords for all the peripheral equipment that makes up the typical credit card approval system. Finally the other customer asks me if I need the credit card machine (I don't). Even he has to ask her to skip him and deal with me first. The register tape has a date on it, but no time. I explain (quickly) about how the "rally" needs dates and times and ask her (as I have several others on the trip) to write the time and initial it on the tape. Where do they dig these people up? With her still standing there blank-faced, I turn to the other customer and ask him to initial it. He very kindly does. • 0:10 to Folk's house; 7.8 mi.; no gas; AS 46.8 mph (loads of construction) TOS: 2:10 • 1:17 to Ardmore, OK; 88.5 mi.; 2.826 gal; 34.08 mpg; AS 68.96 mph TOS: 0:10 • 1:51 to N.R.H.; 105.9 mi.; 2.833 gal; 37.38 mpg; AS 57.24 mph (END) This doesn't include the hassles at the gas station but does include the 10-minute stretch break. I then have to run over to the police station to get the final witness form completed to wrap up the paperwork. The clock isn't ticking any more but my internal clock is. Waiting around 30 minutes for an officer is pretty lame. The dispatcher is the same woman from last night. You can imagine why I politely refuse their offer to have a seat while I wait. It's fun to hear her explain to the person on the other end of the phone, "That motorcycle guy from last night is back" and that, "He looks pretty good... considering". Fortunately they note the time I walked up to the dispatcher instead of the time they actually sign the form. In either case I would have completed a successful SS1000, but heck I am already much slower than the 19-hour times that I remember reading about at the Iron Butt Association web site. At least those times are the only ones I can seem to remember right now. • Second half: 11:59; 540.7 mi.; 15.605 gal; 34.65 mpg; AS 45.21 mph (including stops - still above the minimum average, but just barely.) Times (by beginning and ending tickets instead of logbook). These aren't official until certified by IB. • 20:57; 1074.7 mi.; 29.395 gal; 36.56 mpg; AS 51.3 mph (including stops) This isn't something for everyone. And it's not something that I'd do every year. But I find it rewarding to test myself every once-in-a-while to verify just how much I'm able to do and where my limits are. To prepare for a SS1000 I'd recommend a strict regimen of marathon sessions of Godzilla movies (or something equally uninteresting) while sitting in the most uncomfortable chair in the house. Some other guidelines to follow would be: 1. Don't let any session be for less than 8 hours (12 hours or more is preferable) 2. Don't use the air conditioner in the summer (Fans are okay) 3. At least half of the time set the TV so that you have to look directly into the sun 4. Don't shift your posterior around more than 3" in any direction 5. Only allow your knees to be fully extended or at a 70º inside angle (You may move between these two positions as often as you desire) 6. Sit either without back support or with only a 6" high backrest that barely touches your lower back 7. Sit with your arms extended out in from of you (You may drop one arm at a time, but never both; slight tension must be maintained on the arm and wrist any time it is extended; you must use both arms no less than 85% of the time and those times cannot be determined by you - possibly a random routine can be developed to indication when both must be used; no matter what else is happening (at the time when the routine indicates) you must stop whatever you're doing and extend both arms and tense them and the wrists; do this for no less than 17 hours in any given 24 hour period) Come to think of it. The above regimen isn't unlike computer programming in the summer, with the heater on full blast, the sun in your eyes, and a fan on high blowing in your face. I did it! I completed the SaddleSore 1000! It's not official yet. With all the work that the IB Association has to do this time of year, it may take them a while to complete their review of my paperwork and contact the witnesses. A special thanks to Officers London and Roten (Roe Ten I think - not rotten) of the NRHPD is also in order. I'm confident that everything's in order. As with other reports that are posted to the Iron Butt Association's web page, I would caution anyone considering attempting the SS1000. As they say, discretion is the better part of valor. You have to be willing to call it all off - even if you're within 100 miles or less of your finish. Everything can start working against you. Fatigue, dehydration, and the requirements of keeping your bike under control at reasonable highway speeds can all work against you for a deadly ending to an otherwise eventful day. Understanding that fatigue can impair judgment is a must. You have to be able to realize when you've begun to give yourself bad advice and take a break. Getting home safely is more important than never getting home at all. Maybe now it's time for that victory cigar.