Iron Butt Association Membership # 8613
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Dave Hinks and I committed to do both the MTF Trans-Canadian and Ultimate Coast to Coast Rides. This meant that after completing the 3679 miles in 70 hours and 35 minutes, I would have just five days to get home and exchange the Goldwing for the KLR 650 and then get to Key West for the UCC Banquet on June 9. June 5 and June 9 would only be partial days, so I really had only four days to make the trip. After averaging roughly 1200 mile days for the TC, I now only had to manage 970 mile days to complete the 3866 miles from Vancouver to Key West.
I had completed my TC at 12:48 a.m. Vancouver time. I was to meet the other riders who had completed the trip at 8:00 a.m. for breakfast. I was able to get a good five hours of well deserved sleep. Dan Huber, Will Allender, Bill Watt (our witness), Dave Hinks and I had breakfast in the hotel restaurant and celebrated the completion of the the Trans-Canadian Gold. Dave would be headed my direction as he lives in Illinois. However, he had gotten in late and was headed back to bed to get some much needed rest. Dan and Will were heading south, so I decided to ride with them to Washington. Bill Watt gave us a tip about taking the truck route across the border. Good tip as we were through the border very quickly. Dan and Will got through the border first and went off and left me, so I was now on my own.
Vancouver, British Columbia to New Castle, Indiana
2456 Miles
(Vancouver, BC; Cle Elum, WA; Kingston, ID; Rocker, MT; Hysham, MT; Belfield,
ND; Valley City, ND; Baldwin, MN; Portage, WI; Lebanon, IN; New Castle, IN)
As I entered Idaho and the Rocky Mountains it started to rain. Not only was there rain but it was foggy and the highway was grooved. The highway seems were poor and they did not follow the centerlines. This made judging your lines very difficult and there was more than one pucker factor as I would hit a wet seam at an unexpected time.
I ended the first day of the ride home in Rocker, Montana. I had hoped to make it to Missoula, but since I had gotten a late morning start I decided to stop at about 730 miles for the day and hit it hard the next day. I would be traveling across North Dakota which has higher speed limits and I should be able to have a good next day. There was a Motel 6 at the truck stop. It was a new hotel and did not have the customary sign with the price posted. I was soon to learn that it was $69.00 a night. Oh well, my mind was now in stop mode. I called home, set the alarm for 6:00 a.m. and immediately hit the bed. No problem sleeping this night.
I had a fuel cell on the wing which allows me to carry a bit over 10 gallons. I customarily stop for gas at about 300 miles. I had hit 320 and the fuel light had come on. It is not uncommon in Montana and North Dakota to have highway signs indicate that services are available only to find out that the services are in some small town several miles off the interstate. I took a chance and found gas in Hysham, MT. I have been across I-94 through North Dakota many times. No detour through the Badlands. No stop at Wall. This trip, I had my focus on getting to the eastern side of the Twin Cities so I would not have to deal with morning traffic. As seems customary for me, I missed a turn in the Twin Cities and got dumped downtown. Looks like this would be impossible with a GPS but I seem to make a habit of it. Somehow, I just don't get the layout of the Interstate network in that neck of the woods. About 1117 miles after the day had started in Rocker, Montana, I pulled in around midnight at Baldwin, Minnesota, just east of the Twin Cities. I had accomplished my goal and should have a pretty easy day home the next day. I set the alarm for the customary 6:00 a.m. and got another good nights rest.
I would soon be sleeping in my own bed after 7584 miles over the past 9 days. I got home late afternoon on June 7 after an easy 600 mile day. My son had purchased a new home. So some family obligations gave way to rest and moving my gadgets from the Goldwing to KLR 650. I had made the decision to take the KLR on the Ultimate Coast to Coast primarily due to the last 500 miles of anticipated gravel roads up the Dalton Highway on the way to Deadhorse, Alaska. I had done one 700 mile day on the KLR and felt comfortable that it was the right decision to give up the comfort of the wing over the many interstate miles for the light way and suspension that I would need for the Dalton.
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New Castle, Indiana to Key West, Florida
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I didn't need to be in Key West until dinner time on June 9. This gave me a day and a half to cover the 1400 miles to Key West. My goal was to make it into Florida on the first day and then wrap up on the 9th. To do this, I would have to get in my first 1000 mile day on the KLR. This seemed like a pretty daunting task after having spent so much time on the wing.
I got my first gas before leaving New Castle at 7:49 Eastern Time. My first stop was 272 miles later in Williamsburg, Kentucky at 12:31 Eastern. I had averaged a wimpy 58 mph but first 60 miles had been across country and I had dealt with some traffic in Cincinnati and Lexington. I was elated that I had been able to hang in for 272 miles and nearly five hours without stopping. The bike was running good and I was optimistic that a 1000 mile day was possible.
It had only been about 140 miles since my last stop but it was getting warm and I had forgotten to replenish my water. I pulled into the rest park at Haywood, North Carolina. This is in the Pisgah National Forest and the ride through the gorge is always a treat. As I slowed to enter the rest park, my bike died. I let out on the clutch and it fired. I pulled on the clutch and the bike died again. I coasted to a stop. I could not get the bike to restart. I decided to get out of my jacket and helmet, get some water, and hope the bike would start when I returned. No such luck. I carry a complete bag of tools although I don't know how to use them like I should. My thought has always been that if I have tools maybe I will find somebody with knowledge. Not this time. The bike would turnover but would not fire. I tried to call Don Kime, he had taught me a lot about the KLR. He was not home. I called Bob Moore. He had sympathy but no answers. I finally called Don Kime back and left a message. I called my wife. Frustrated, you bet. How could the bike run perfect for 400 miles and then just die? Bob gave me the numbers of the Kawasaki dealers in the area. None were open late and none would stay late. Basically they said, call me in the morning and we will see if we can get you in. I'm now thinking that there is almost no chance of getting to Key West in time to start the ride. A fellow sees me setting on the curb with my tool bag and offers to give me a push. Several tries and a lot of sweat on his part and no luck. I thanked him and he went on his way. Another fellow offered help. He had a bike but had my mechanical skills, so I thanked him for his willingness to help and sent him on his way. It was time to call the towing company. As I was on ignore. I decided to try one more time to start the bike. Oh Shit! The darn thing started. Just as it started the the person I was on hold with came back to the phone. I was not able to do two tasks simultaneously and let the bike die. I ask the lady to forget about the tow as I thought I had the bike running. I hung up the phone. Packed all my stuff. Put on my riding gear and prepared to head off. Nothing, Nada, Zipp. Crap! I decided to go take a piss and try to cool off. I called my wife and told her about my woeful tale. After some time, I tried again and the bike fired. This time I kept it running and re-dawned my gear. I don't really know how long I spent at the rest park but it was a long time. Maybe an hour or more.
I figured my battery was low from all the attempts at starting the bike so I skipped the first couple of exits. At Clyde, North Carolina, about 16 miles from the rest area, I decided that I would stop to get gas and see what happened. As I rolled down the exit ramp I was planning how I could run the stop to get to the service station in the event the bike died. I squeezed the clutch with great apprehension. The bike continued to run. I let out on the clutch and squeezed again, not really believing that I was that lucky. The bike kept running. Wow. I can't believe that. I pulled up to the pump shut of the bike. I started it three times before I filled up with gas, still thinking that surely it was going to fail. I still have no idea what caused the failure. We can only guess that the float got stuck. It was now 4:55 p.m. I have been on the road for 9 hours and 6 minutes and have only traveled 431 miles. I am now averaging only about 47 mph. That 58 mph average on the first tank of guess looked pretty good.
Obviously my security about the bike's mechanical fitness was now lacking. Every possible scenario was running through my head. It would soon be dark What if the bike died along the interstate at night. You get the idea. It was a stressful situation. 170 miles later I'm in Columbia, South Carolina. I don't need gas but I need a security check. Andy Simons lives in Columbia. I figure if the bike dies on me, I at least have a chance to get some help. I pull in for gas. The bike doesn't die. At the pump, I once again start, kill, and restart the bike several times in disbelief that all seems ok. It is now 7:22 p.m. and I have traveled 600 miles. I'm now averaging 52 mph. Well I guess Andy is off the hook. I'm pressing on.
I'm still constantly worrying about the bike. At 12:03 a.m., June 9, I decided to stop in Midway, Georgia for gas and to get something to eat. It had only been 186 miles since the last stop but I just realized that with all the concern about the bike, I had gone all day without eating. Before leaving I calculated my average speed. The stop had taken its toll. My average speed had declined to 48 mph. The stress has taken its toll as well. I'm tired but decided that I would push on and try to get through Jacksonville. That was my goal when I left in the morning before. I pulled into Titusville, Florida at 2:27 a.m. My average speed was back up to nearly 55 mph. I only had 385 miles to Key West. I decided that I would just continue on while the bike was still running.
I remember blowing the horn as I passed my nephews home in West Palm Beach. It was early and I was several yards away on the Interstate and could only see the roof. But I figured it was the thought that counted. Miami traffic? It just sucks. I've ridden in most big cities but these folks are aggressive. As I get to Homestead and head for the Keys, traffic slows. In some places really slow. There is no real way to get around the traffic so patience is important. It is also warming up. I have been riding for nearly 24 hours and the heat is not setting very well with being hot. I'm also wondering if I will be able to make it all the way to Key West without another stop. I really don't want to stop. I want to get to Key West and get checked in to the hotel. I arrive at Key West at 10:58 a.m.
I was wondering about riding the KLR 1000 miles that first day. In the end, I had ridden. 1410 miles in 27 hours and 37 minutes, about a 51 mph average. Who would have ever thought that. The good news was that I had not had any further mechanical problems. I checked into the hotel. I don't really remember who all had beat me to Key West so I won't try to make a list. But I was pleased that my friend Jason Jonas had showed up to send us off. Jason wouldn't be doing the ride with us as he had made this trek the year before. But he wanted to make sure that we got a proper send off.
I had installed an autocom on the KLR so that I could use my XM radio and hear my radar detector and GPS. It was not loud enough at interstate speeds. I pulled the seat and cranked up the volume but it was to no avail. This trip would be done without tunes. My Garmin Colormap III GPS had also developed a water leak. It worked sometimes but was waterlogged. I hoped that by plugging in into the AC power all night that the heat would condense the water. No luck. Hmmmm, was I going to have to do this trip with paper maps.
A few of us took a walk downtown for lunch and made a stop at the internet cafe. There would be time for sleep at night. Too many friends and too much excitement to sleep now.
Folks starting arriving and it was soon time for the banquet. First we decided to go the buoy and try to get some pictures. The local authorities objected to this procedure so the pictures were quite hurried.
Bob Zielke and the bikes at the Raw Bar
Bill Bolkan (left), Alan Leduc (center) and John Stanforth (right)