Randy
Well-known member
I've done quite a few 700+ mile days, and usually with plenty of time to spare. I figured I could pull off 1000+ without too much trouble, so, I started looking for a destination. A few friends of mine were doing a trackday at Blackhawk Farms Raceway in South Beloit, IL (near the IL/WI border). A direct trip would have left me about 160 miles short, so, instead of doing some mindless traveling through IL and WI, I decided to look for a long way around. Other than flying over it, I've never seen the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, so, I started Mapquesting the route. 1100+ miles to go to Gateway Farms via St. Louis (vs. 840 miles direct). Sounds like a plan.
So, I spend the whole week getting my bike ready an throwing in those 'just in case' items. I get everything loaded and ready to go and try to get some well-needed sleep in anticipation for the 3:00 scheduled departure. As seems to be common from what I read, I was wired and tossed and turned and only ended up getting about 4 hrs of sleep (maybe less?). I get off about 10 minutes late and go for gas. After filling up, I realized I forgot my Camelback personal hydrations system and had to backtrack about 11 miles each way. As the timestamp for gas marks the start of the trip, I'm already behind a few MPH of my conservative goal of averaging 60 MPH.
I picked up the Camelback and started heading west at about 3:40 a.m. The first few hours were a blur. I actually got to a particular point on the Pennsylvania Turnpike and didn't recall seeing a few landmarks that I know I passed. Odd - maybe I was busy switching songs on the IPOD? Oh well, carry on.
The sun started coming up as I approached Western Pennsylvania and it was soon time for my first gas stop. I got a false sense of security thinking the ride was going to be a breeze if every run was as easy as the first. I pulled into my first gas stop and executed like a fumbling bumbling idiot. I couldn't find my log sheet. My Motocomm was attached to the left bar and wires connected the IPOD and cell phone in my tank bag. As I took the tank bag off to fill up with gas, the I realized I didn't have enough slack in the cords for my phone and IPOD, so, I had to disconnect them before I could finish the removal of the magnetic tank bag. I filled up and then, when finished, started filling out the log sheet. A few minutes could have been saved if I would have had the log sheet out and started while it was filling. I thought I was getting myself in a bind and losing valuable minutes only later to realize that a few minutes here and there aren't that big of a deal on the SS1000. A quick look at the bike revealed extremely high tire temps and the rubber was balling up in the center. I guess 41/41 wasn't enough. So, I look around and soon realize this gas station doesn't have an air supply. Jeesh. So, I gear up and head down the street to the next station and put 2 more pounds in the front and rear. I'm now about 20 minutes into my first stop. That, along with the time lost at the beginning, got me thinking I was going to have to ride with a pretty good sense of urgency to make up for lost time.
I finally get back on the road and leave PA and enter West Virginia. Bonus - 70 mph speed limit vs. 65 in PA means 5 more MPH to help make up for some lost time. It was a pretty short stint in WV before hitting the 65 MPH speed limits in Ohio. As I was riding, I was thinking of ways to improve my stop times. I was also thinking about the miles per tank. I originally wanted to hit 250 miles per tank, but, the bar was flashing at 210 and I didn't feel like pushing it, so, about 15 miles down the road, I find a gas station and fill up. I only put in about 5 gallons, so, I know I had some room to spare. A few more calculations made me realize that, even at 250 per tank, I was still going to have to make another stop to get to 1100+ miles. So, I figured as long as I was hitting 220, I would be fine. This stop was much quicker and without incident until a fellow riding enthusiast started asking the questions I would eventually hear a few times throughout the day (is that a BMW, where ya goin, why am I going to St Louis to get to Wisconsin, does your butt/back hurt, etc). I answered his questions quickly hoping he would get the hint I was in a hurry. I guess he got the hint. He wished me luck and on I went.
I continued through Ohio and into Indiana and something strange happened after I hit Indianapolis. I don't remember hearing anyone talking about 'hitting a wall' during a long distance ride, but, that's the best way I can describe it. I got bored eating up the miles on the superslabs and started feeling a bit tired. No matter what I did, I couldn't do anything to clear my head. So, I started looking for some type of diversion. I saw a sign that said something about some covered bridges, so, I jumped off the exit in search of something interesting to take my first pics of the trip. I don't have a deep interest in covered bridges, but, it gave me something to put my mind at ease. I wondered aimlessly for about 10 minutes in search of a covered bridge and came across an older gentleman spraying some nasty chemicals on the weeds at the entrance to his property. He pointed me in the direction of one of these bridges and, somehow, I was able to follow his series of lefts and rights and stumbled across Dunbar Bridge in Putnam County. I took off my gear and snapped a few pictures and sprinkled some water on my face from Big Walnut Creek under the bridge. As simple as this sounds, it was just what the doctor ordered. I felt refreshed (maybe the PowerBar and bottle of Propel energy drink helped, too) and headed back to Interstate 70 on my way to St. Louis. The 70 mph speed limit in Indiana helped me get some time back and I was still averaging well over my 60 mph target.
I hit the Illinois border and stopped at a welcome center to ask about the best vantage point for getting some pictures of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. The attendant (after smehow spending 5 minutes talking to me about my Camelback) guided me towards the parking lot of the Casino Queen in East St. Louis. She said it would give me a good view of the Arch and I wouldn't have to deal with the traffic in downtown St. Louis (plus, it's tough to get a picture of the Arch from up close). I gear up and head down I 70 towards my first major target. I am glad to see 'the wave' is alive and well - there were only a handful of bikes that I passed on the Interstate that didn't initiate or return a wave. I followed the signs and was able to find a spot where I could take a pic of the bike with the Arch in the background. It was a warm day and I was getting a bit pressed for time, so, I geared up and started backtracking towards I 55 to start taking me north through Illinois.
I start heading north on I55 only to find out that people in Illinois don't take speed limits seriously and found myself being a rolling roadblock at 10 MPH over the posted speed limit. I continued up I 55 and pulled off shortly after the fuel bar started blinking. As I got off the exit, I saw signs for 'Historic rt 66'. I felt obligated to see this road and, without going into too much detail, I was able to blow off some steam while 'getting some kicks on rt 66'. I knew this would end up being my last fuel stop before reaching my destination, so, I took a little extra time to throw down a Subway turkey sub and take in my first batch of caffiene in the form of a Mt. Dew.
As I continued up I 55 before connecting with I 39 which would take where I needed to go, the trip meter was inching closer and closer to the 1000 mile mark. Obviously, my head wasn't clear about the trip meter. I wanted to pull of and take a pic of the trip meter at 1000, but, got the reminder a tenth of a mile after 999.9 that the trip meter only has 3 spaces to the left of the decimal pt and it went back to 000.0. Oh well - a bit anti-claimatic, but, still gratifying. A took some pictures of a beautiful sky as the sun started to set. Shook out the cobwebs, threw down another Mt. Dew and suited up for the last leg of the trip.
I arrived at my exit north of Rockford, Ill at about 10:00 p.m. with the trip meter showing 130 miles (1130 was the actual count). I got to Blackhawk Farms to meet up with my friends and had them sign off on my paperwork.
Mission accomplished. I arrived safe, I hit my goal, and stayed away from the LEOs in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois.
The return trip was a direct route around Chicago, and the northern route across Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio before heading south and picking up the PA turnpike. A measly 840 mile trip. Had I thought I would fell as good as I did upon returning home, I would have documented my return trip and slightly altered it to do my 2nd SS1000 in 3 days. Oh well - live and learn.
The FJR performed flawlessly. Other than my sheepskin seat cover, Vista Cruise throttle lock, TOGs, Givi top box, +2/+2 windshield, and Motocomm AB-1m, I'm farkle free. But, for the next trip, I'll plan on having, at a minimum, a seat, GPS, and Powerlet adapter installed so I can keep the cell phone and IPOD charged up.
I'll post the few pictures I have when I get them uploaded.
I know this doesn't seem like a very monumental task for the seasoned LDR veterans, but, you gotta start somewhere, right?
So, I spend the whole week getting my bike ready an throwing in those 'just in case' items. I get everything loaded and ready to go and try to get some well-needed sleep in anticipation for the 3:00 scheduled departure. As seems to be common from what I read, I was wired and tossed and turned and only ended up getting about 4 hrs of sleep (maybe less?). I get off about 10 minutes late and go for gas. After filling up, I realized I forgot my Camelback personal hydrations system and had to backtrack about 11 miles each way. As the timestamp for gas marks the start of the trip, I'm already behind a few MPH of my conservative goal of averaging 60 MPH.
I picked up the Camelback and started heading west at about 3:40 a.m. The first few hours were a blur. I actually got to a particular point on the Pennsylvania Turnpike and didn't recall seeing a few landmarks that I know I passed. Odd - maybe I was busy switching songs on the IPOD? Oh well, carry on.
The sun started coming up as I approached Western Pennsylvania and it was soon time for my first gas stop. I got a false sense of security thinking the ride was going to be a breeze if every run was as easy as the first. I pulled into my first gas stop and executed like a fumbling bumbling idiot. I couldn't find my log sheet. My Motocomm was attached to the left bar and wires connected the IPOD and cell phone in my tank bag. As I took the tank bag off to fill up with gas, the I realized I didn't have enough slack in the cords for my phone and IPOD, so, I had to disconnect them before I could finish the removal of the magnetic tank bag. I filled up and then, when finished, started filling out the log sheet. A few minutes could have been saved if I would have had the log sheet out and started while it was filling. I thought I was getting myself in a bind and losing valuable minutes only later to realize that a few minutes here and there aren't that big of a deal on the SS1000. A quick look at the bike revealed extremely high tire temps and the rubber was balling up in the center. I guess 41/41 wasn't enough. So, I look around and soon realize this gas station doesn't have an air supply. Jeesh. So, I gear up and head down the street to the next station and put 2 more pounds in the front and rear. I'm now about 20 minutes into my first stop. That, along with the time lost at the beginning, got me thinking I was going to have to ride with a pretty good sense of urgency to make up for lost time.
I finally get back on the road and leave PA and enter West Virginia. Bonus - 70 mph speed limit vs. 65 in PA means 5 more MPH to help make up for some lost time. It was a pretty short stint in WV before hitting the 65 MPH speed limits in Ohio. As I was riding, I was thinking of ways to improve my stop times. I was also thinking about the miles per tank. I originally wanted to hit 250 miles per tank, but, the bar was flashing at 210 and I didn't feel like pushing it, so, about 15 miles down the road, I find a gas station and fill up. I only put in about 5 gallons, so, I know I had some room to spare. A few more calculations made me realize that, even at 250 per tank, I was still going to have to make another stop to get to 1100+ miles. So, I figured as long as I was hitting 220, I would be fine. This stop was much quicker and without incident until a fellow riding enthusiast started asking the questions I would eventually hear a few times throughout the day (is that a BMW, where ya goin, why am I going to St Louis to get to Wisconsin, does your butt/back hurt, etc). I answered his questions quickly hoping he would get the hint I was in a hurry. I guess he got the hint. He wished me luck and on I went.
I continued through Ohio and into Indiana and something strange happened after I hit Indianapolis. I don't remember hearing anyone talking about 'hitting a wall' during a long distance ride, but, that's the best way I can describe it. I got bored eating up the miles on the superslabs and started feeling a bit tired. No matter what I did, I couldn't do anything to clear my head. So, I started looking for some type of diversion. I saw a sign that said something about some covered bridges, so, I jumped off the exit in search of something interesting to take my first pics of the trip. I don't have a deep interest in covered bridges, but, it gave me something to put my mind at ease. I wondered aimlessly for about 10 minutes in search of a covered bridge and came across an older gentleman spraying some nasty chemicals on the weeds at the entrance to his property. He pointed me in the direction of one of these bridges and, somehow, I was able to follow his series of lefts and rights and stumbled across Dunbar Bridge in Putnam County. I took off my gear and snapped a few pictures and sprinkled some water on my face from Big Walnut Creek under the bridge. As simple as this sounds, it was just what the doctor ordered. I felt refreshed (maybe the PowerBar and bottle of Propel energy drink helped, too) and headed back to Interstate 70 on my way to St. Louis. The 70 mph speed limit in Indiana helped me get some time back and I was still averaging well over my 60 mph target.
I hit the Illinois border and stopped at a welcome center to ask about the best vantage point for getting some pictures of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. The attendant (after smehow spending 5 minutes talking to me about my Camelback) guided me towards the parking lot of the Casino Queen in East St. Louis. She said it would give me a good view of the Arch and I wouldn't have to deal with the traffic in downtown St. Louis (plus, it's tough to get a picture of the Arch from up close). I gear up and head down I 70 towards my first major target. I am glad to see 'the wave' is alive and well - there were only a handful of bikes that I passed on the Interstate that didn't initiate or return a wave. I followed the signs and was able to find a spot where I could take a pic of the bike with the Arch in the background. It was a warm day and I was getting a bit pressed for time, so, I geared up and started backtracking towards I 55 to start taking me north through Illinois.
I start heading north on I55 only to find out that people in Illinois don't take speed limits seriously and found myself being a rolling roadblock at 10 MPH over the posted speed limit. I continued up I 55 and pulled off shortly after the fuel bar started blinking. As I got off the exit, I saw signs for 'Historic rt 66'. I felt obligated to see this road and, without going into too much detail, I was able to blow off some steam while 'getting some kicks on rt 66'. I knew this would end up being my last fuel stop before reaching my destination, so, I took a little extra time to throw down a Subway turkey sub and take in my first batch of caffiene in the form of a Mt. Dew.
As I continued up I 55 before connecting with I 39 which would take where I needed to go, the trip meter was inching closer and closer to the 1000 mile mark. Obviously, my head wasn't clear about the trip meter. I wanted to pull of and take a pic of the trip meter at 1000, but, got the reminder a tenth of a mile after 999.9 that the trip meter only has 3 spaces to the left of the decimal pt and it went back to 000.0. Oh well - a bit anti-claimatic, but, still gratifying. A took some pictures of a beautiful sky as the sun started to set. Shook out the cobwebs, threw down another Mt. Dew and suited up for the last leg of the trip.
I arrived at my exit north of Rockford, Ill at about 10:00 p.m. with the trip meter showing 130 miles (1130 was the actual count). I got to Blackhawk Farms to meet up with my friends and had them sign off on my paperwork.
Mission accomplished. I arrived safe, I hit my goal, and stayed away from the LEOs in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois.
The return trip was a direct route around Chicago, and the northern route across Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio before heading south and picking up the PA turnpike. A measly 840 mile trip. Had I thought I would fell as good as I did upon returning home, I would have documented my return trip and slightly altered it to do my 2nd SS1000 in 3 days. Oh well - live and learn.
The FJR performed flawlessly. Other than my sheepskin seat cover, Vista Cruise throttle lock, TOGs, Givi top box, +2/+2 windshield, and Motocomm AB-1m, I'm farkle free. But, for the next trip, I'll plan on having, at a minimum, a seat, GPS, and Powerlet adapter installed so I can keep the cell phone and IPOD charged up.
I'll post the few pictures I have when I get them uploaded.
I know this doesn't seem like a very monumental task for the seasoned LDR veterans, but, you gotta start somewhere, right?
