Zanesville OH – Tulsa OK
Wed June 21, 2023
(910 miles)

20 minutes were all I could allow myself on that picnic table along I-70, as I was already pushing the limits of possibility for beating penalties at the checkpoint. Luckily, the sky was lightening up by now, which helps me feel more alert. I had an Ensure protein shake and a few Fig Newtons before mounting back up. As I got back up to speed on the highway through corn country, I swigged a 5-Hour Energy for good measure (never on an empty stomach!), and could feel that wakefulness take hold. I’d be good to make it through the day now. I took quick stock of my position in relation to the group Spotwalla map and realized I was one of the  markers comprising the caboose of the I-70 rider train heading in to Tulsa. Yikes.

Just shy of Columbus, I fueled up in the suburb of Reynoldsburg. At this early hour, Google had no qualms about guiding me due west through the heart of the capital city and traffic was not a problem. I exited north on the I-270 loop for several miles to the northwest suburb of Dublin. After cruising a couple blocks on divided boulevards through an industrial park, I reached the waypoint around 08:30 and found myself staring at a green field with 109 concrete ears of corn stood on end. It’s an art installation called Field of Corn, colloquially known as… Cornhenge!

I found a driveway entrance and parked as close as I could to the sculptures. I had glanced at the requirement for this bonus briefly when planning the route and also during my rest bonus, but I don’t think I was quite prepared for the scale of this field! In order to claim bonus OHD “Field of Corn”, per the rally book one must:

Take a photo of the one concrete ear of corn with the damaged, missing kernel 5 rows from the top of the ear. Yes, you will need to search the field for the correct ear.

My anxiety level ratcheted up a notch as I realized this was a clever rallymaster time sink, and me without time to spare! Well, nothing to it but to do it. I grabbed my phone to have handy as I hiked up and down the rows of corn, comparing the provided photo from the rally pack (which I’d scanned in) with the tree lines. It didn’t help much. 😕

I slowly made my way out towards the main boulevard that borders the field on one side, where I’d first came upon the site. It seemed that in the sample photo the traffic lights and road were not showing, so that eliminated one side of the corn ears at least.  Chuckling ruefully at my predicament, I trudged slowly between the ears of corn, my head on a swivel scanning tree lines and kernel lines alike, looking for that one thing out of place. Finally, I got to the edge of the field near the road and turned around, and there it was! I quickly got my flag positioned and took my photo.

While searching, I had spotted a two-up rally bike rounding the corner at the lights and pulling in to park by my bike. The couple were beelining straight out towards me as I fast-walked it back to my motorcycle. They called out not to worry that I’d spoiled their own search – they’d already spotted the missing kernel as they drove by! Two pairs of eyes certainly helps a lot sometimes. I was just glad to see another rally bike still behind me and that I wasn’t the very end of the train (yet). 😅

I stowed the flag and rally pack and got the heck outa Dodge. Total time stopped was about 15 minutes, rather an eternity for one bonus stop! Back down to I-70 and continued zooming across the remainder of Ohio and started across Indiana.

To this point, I had been so focused on getting through the northeast, stewing in my own frustrations and negative thoughts, that I hadn’t reached out to chat with other riders. With nothing but Midwest interstate and cornfields in store for me all day, I finally decided to reach out to Gerry and see how things were coming along for him. My two attempts went unanswered, though I didn’t think much of it since Gerry doesn’t always monitor his phone while riding. About 15 minutes later, he called me back and his first words were “Everything’s OK, I’m fine, but….”

Gerry was, in fact, not really fine. He had had a pretty bad crash while riding in South Carolina yesterday morning, and was out of the rally. I was stunned by the news and at a loss for words at first. He was currently convalescing in a hospital there. His wife Nicky was already there at bedside, having dropped everything to jump on a plane after receiving the call from Lisa Landry (red book – opened 😞 ). After sitting in the hospital with Gerry most of the day, local IBA member Dan Crowley had picked Nicky up from the airport and brought her straight to Gerry’s bedside (huge kudos to Dan for his selfless support of a fellow rider in need).

Gerry was on some good painkillers (I could tell), but he briefly explained what he could remember and had been told about the incident, which involved an edge trap on the interstate. He has several broken ribs and his shoulder is “a complete mess”, but hadn’t hit his head, best anyone could tell. He’d been ducking my calls because he “didn’t want to distract me or anyone else from riding safely in the rally.” Geezus, this guy is always thinking of everyone else even when lying broken in bed and hopped up on drugs! After about a 20 minute call, he was fading so we said goodbye after he wished me luck in the rally.

I rode on, feeling a bit directionless at this point. This was just wrong. It was unfair, when literally one of the nicest guys you could hope to meet, a careful and unaggressive rider, gets taken down like this. Especially in broad daylight and coming off a full rest bonus break. I briefly considered a strong urge to turn around and head east down to the Carolinas to be with my friend. 😟At the moment, however, I knew that family was with him already, and he was in good hands. My rally brain was also telling me that right now, I was running on fumes and had to focus on navigating safely through to the other side of Indianapolis, and to the upcoming bonus stop.

The westbound lanes of I-70 were open all the way through the metro area, good to see after the years-long construction project that had caused a big routing mess through this area. So I zipped straight through the state capital without delay. Cutting over to the I-465 loop and shuffling a couple miles north, I exited on US 36 heading west away from the city.

After 10 or so miles of intermittent strip-malls and commercial properties with traffic lights, then a few miles of divided highway, I was cruising up the main street of Danville IN. At the top of a rise, right downtown, I pulled to the curb directly in front of the Mayberry Café, which served as bonus INDA “Pork Tenderloin Sandwich”.

No food says “Hoosier” better than a pork tenderloin sandwich. The Mayberry Café is part of the Tenderloin Lovers Trail and has one of the top-rated sandwiches in the state.

Delicious as it sounds, I’ve never had the pleasure myself, of consuming a tenderloin sandwich. Unfortunately that experience will have to be deferred to a future trip. Probably getting some funny looks from the local guys eating inside the café, I hoofed it awkwardly across the street on sea legs to snap my photo, stowed my stuff quickly, and got back on the move.

Continuing west out of town, it was nice to be off the interstate even for a few miles, really enjoying the rural farmland scenery with plenty more cornfields seen up close and personal. After turning on IN 75 in Coatesville, I made use of a convenient outhouse I spotted at a ballfield along the road. In several more miles, my route picked up I-70 once again, in Cloverdale.

Back on the slab for long stretch, I set the cruise control and tried to digest things – both literally with some tank bag food for lunch, and mentally regarding Gerry’s situation. The news had immediately put my own “troubles” on this rally so far into perspective. I was healthy and riding my motorcycle across the country under blue skies and sunshine, still pretty much on plan. I was doing what I love more than about anything in the world, and there were more bonuses to collect before hopefully sliding in just under the wire at the checkpoint. I’m going to have to ride out the rest of this rally with my best effort, partially for Gerry now since he’ll be missing his own ride and expecting a detailed written report later, to read over his coffee and Sunday Morning Spins. 🎸🎶 😤

This capture of the group Spotwalla page from around 11:00 local time tells me that I was most definitely towards the back of the train. That two-up couple was still behind me for now, but there were a couple more stops yet to make, if I dare.

I finished out Indiana and continued barreling west, in Central Daylight Time now, across narrow southern Illinois, stopping for fuel in Greenup.

Char called me as I was getting back on the highway, so I filled her in on Gerry’s situation. She could tell I was shook by the news and was equally saddened, so we commiserated on our friend’s misfortune together. She was dealing with a hospitalized family member herself, but offered to reach out to Nicky, despite never having met. After going over what I’d been told, and the fact that Gerry would hopefully be flown home by MedJet shortly (little did we know), we agreed that my physical presence wouldn’t likely be useful at the moment. For now, we’d wait and see if they needed anything and lend whatever support we could, given the circumstances.

Approaching the St. Louis metro area, I exited on Illinois route 157 in Collinsville to nab three Bingo locations almost right next door to each other. I’d spotted this nice little grouping back at the start hotel. While researching the Bingo stops, I had focused on the rarer, or more unfamiliar chains along my route, in this case Freddy’s Frozen Custard & Steakburgers, figuring the bigger chains would be easier to spot and present more opportunities throughout the rally. Within about 10 minutes I nabbed Bingo bonuses N2 (Waffle House), G3 (Long John Silver’s), and N1 (Freddy’s).

Back on the freeway, I followed signs for I-55 now, leaving 70 behind me at last in East St. Louis, and crossing the mighty Mississippi River. Not sure if I was distracted by the views of the Arch, but I missed my exit where I-44 split off and had to turn around at the next exit by the big Anheuser-Busch plant. No big deal, about a mile or so each way.

After two more miles on 44, I exited into The Hill neighborhood of the city, which has a long Italian-American heritage. The closely spaced single-story houses fronting the residential streets around here had a unique character and charm to them. A couple blocks down the sloped Edwards St. and I pulled to the curb by an Italian restaurant of no little historical significance, bonus MOSL“FriedRavioli”.

Mama’s on the Hill claims the origin story on fried ravioli. This St. Louis favorite was purportedly invented here when a chef named Fritz accidentally dropped some ravioli in hot oil.

I noticed a call coming in from my friend Ken Aman while documenting the bonus, so I returned the call once I was back on I-44 and comfortably moving southwest out of the city. I filled him in on Gerry’s situation and a bit about how my Leg 1 had been going (underwhelming). It was nice to catch up and hear a bit about his current (four-wheeled) trip to the western US, taking my mind off my immediate concerns for a while. I’d forgotten over the past couple days how well conversation really helps the miles tick by quickly! After that call, I called my mom to chat a bit with her as well.

Mostly what I remember about pushing it hard through Missouri today was that it was hot! When I stopped for fuel in Lebanon, I bought a couple big bottles of water and used their ice dispenser to replenish my hydration jug. Despite all that, I was able to make up time against the clock and bring my checkpoint ETA on the Zumo GPS well away from penalty land.

I crossed the Oklahoma state line at about 18:00 local time and enjoyed the empty roads and open landscape all the way down to Tulsa. Once inside the city limits, I still had time enough for one more bonus stop, at a Whataburger joint one exit from the hotel. The staff inside had apparently seen a good number of rally riders already come through today and knew what I needed, only charging me for a simple cup of water for my receipt for Bingo bonus O1!

Several minutes later, I was pulling up to the port cochere at the Doubletree Tulsa Warren Place hotel, just past 19:30. Someone rattled off a bunch of instructions for parking, only half of which I could hear or understand, but I headed off in the correct general direction. Other riders and volunteers pointed me into the correct section of the parking garage where I needed to be. It was not going to be a very short walk back to the front door, so I grabbed what I needed to prep for scoring and loped off, cutting through some hedges to get back to the front and through the main entrance.

I immediately checked in with Bill Thweatt to stop my clock at 19:43, a full 17 minutes to spare before penalties! I now had an hour to get myself ready for scoring, which was happening one floor down from the lobby. I spotted a quiet-looking lounge area off to one side of the lobby with a few armchairs, couches and a big coffee table, and started unpacking there to prep.

I had to run back to the bike for my laptop in order to copy all my photos. Rather than pick through things at the bike, I just brought all my bags in with me this time. Several people called out to me about Gerry, asking if I’d heard the news and how he was doing. I gave quick answers and got back to my table without stopping to chat, letting them know I hadn’t been scored yet.

Steve Giffin joined me in at the big coffee table to do his prep, and I updated him on Gerry as we spread our stuff out. Then we worked in companionable silence, trying to block out nearby chatter as best we could since we were still on a clock. After copying my photos, I got to work filling in the last day and half of bonuses collected on my claim form and organizing receipts. The emotional weight of the past three days and lack of sleep was ready to crash down on me – I couldn’t wait to get some food and rest as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that would not be soon at all.

With everything in order at last, I took only my scoring needs, and headed downstairs to find the scoring room. It was surprising to see how crowded the hallway was with riders this late in the checkpoint process. Riders were chatting animatedly or just staring blankly at the walls. The thing I remember most clearly was Jim Owen lying sound asleep on a small bench right in the middle of several chattering people, looking completely at ease…classic! Shaking my head, I handed in my sheet at the scoring check-in table and noticed the large number of envelopes still in the basket as my got filed in the rear.

“Are those all people before me still to be scored?” I asked incredulously. “Looks like it’s going to take a while?”

“Yes, we are running quite a bit behind.”

This seemed unusual, as arriving this late I’d expected (based on prior experience) that most riders would have already been scored and be upstairs sleeping already, or close to it. After a bit more chit chat, it was clear that I should have plenty of time to grab some food and maybe even check in to my room to shower before I’d be called in to score. I decided to get my room first, since that might take some time.

Sure enough, they were having computer issues at the front desk. Now off the clock, I somehow remained patient and waited as the desk lady tried to handle a few different requests coming at her at once, while waiting for the computer to find me a room. She was very courteous and apologetic the whole time. I waved off the apologies as unnecessary (not her fault), but mentioned that I had been riding for a few days now and wouldn’t they please do what could be done to get me in my room as soon as possible. Things seemed more disorganized than usual, even for a rally hotel, as there were just so many people trying to check in and every computer seemed to be down. I wasn’t in a state of mind to think too deeply about it at the time, and just wanted a shower!

Finally, she was able to get me a room assigned. The first elevator I boarded was apparently not in the mood to go upwards. Of course. So I disembarked and joined some folks in the other one. At my room, I could not get my card to work to get into the room, no matter how I tried swiping it. Frustrated, I returned back down the elevator to the lobby and got them to re-program it. Then back at my door, I realized that it was a proximity card – just hold it there rather than swipe to unlock… mea culpa! 🤦‍♂️

After washing my LD comforts and getting a hot shower, I grabbed my scoring stuff, double-checking  I had everything, and headed back downstairs to grab some food before they closed it down for the night. The buffet pickings were slim by now, but I scraped up some salad and veggies with a few remaining cold scraps of chicken. Still, at least it wasn’t tank bag food, and I attacked it with gusto while chatting to a few other riders who looked as tired as I felt.

This may be the first time I heard anything about the fierce storms with high winds that had passed through Tulsa a couple days ago. Apparently power had been out for over a day in a greater part of the city, including the hotel! Now things started to click a bit: that voicemail greeting on the call-in bonus, the scoring and hotel check-in delays, the elevator issue, and all the guests who looked like (and were, apparently) electrical linemen. My mind wasn’t yet making all the connections or grasping the implications on what we’d avoided, but things seemed to make a bit more sense.

The “scoring” hallway was emptier and quieter than before, but there were still several riders waiting ahead of me. In fact, it looked like I would be one of the last two or three people to get scored tonight. I chatted absentmindedly with the few folks that were left and tried closing my eyes for a bit to rest until finally getting called in around 22:00.

After sitting with Jim Fousek for a few minutes to have my photos downloaded from the SD card, I was assigned to scorer Chris Sakala. Chris went through everything carefully, and there wasn’t much for me to do or say until he had some trouble entering the Luke’s Lobster bonus. After a minute or two, he realized that that restaurant chain wasn’t valid in the state of Rhode Island.  Jeff was called over to confirm and I couldn’t believe I’d overlooked this, especially because that detour down to Newport had ONLY been for snagging Luke’s and had probably cost me a good 45 minutes over just sticking to the interstates. I had been so proud of spotting it too! 😭

The location was included on the Luke’s website so I questioned what criteria were needed for a state to be listed in the rally pack. Jeff explained that it had to do with the corporate filing papers for that chain at the time the rally pack was created. Since the information was in the rally pack and I had missed it, there was no further need for discussion… ZERO POINTS. I was sad.  Then the same thing happened when Chris was trying to enter that Waffle House I’d bagged in Illinois. That one was even harder to swallow – that a mid-America state like Illinois wasn’t a qualified state for good old WH!  WTH man! The two combined were worth 572 points, though I can’t really say I lost those points since the locations weren’t valid to begin with. 🤷‍♂️

Everything else checked out and no other bonuses were denied, though I hadn’t maximized the rest bonus, which I already knew. It was already 22:30 when I signed off on the 25,056 point total and headed upstairs. Probably past 23:00 by the time I set up my laptop for the morning’s routing session and got myself settled, with alarm set for an 03:30 wakeup.

LEG 1 Stats
Total leg time: 59h
Miles: 3046
Location bonuses: 10
Bingo bonuses claimed/awarded: 10/8
Points: 25,056

All bonuses claimed in order for Leg 1:

TRK1, NYPY, O3, VTBU, MEBH, MASA, I4, REST1, CALL1, G4, N5, O4, NJFL, NYNY, NYBR, G5, OHD, INDA, N2, G3, N1, MOSL, O1

 

GPS Track for Leg1