Santa Monica CA – Greenwood Village CO
Sat June 24, 2023
(~1082 miles)

After a solid four hour sleep (still waay less than I would’ve liked), the alarm woke me and I got an immediate rush of adrenaline when I noticed all the light pouring in around the window shade. What the AF, did I oversleep?! It should still be dark out, shit! I leapt out of bed and went to the window to look out. Ah, nope. There’s just so much street lighting outside the hotel on Santa Monica Boulevard (and the window dressing so inadequate) that I thought it was daylight! 😆😅😐 At least things sounded a bit less rambunctious out there at this hour.

It was 02:30 (as it should be), and while my blood was pumping with the sudden scare, I was feeling much much better after some comfortable rest.  I made room coffee (no creamer!?) while taking a quick wake-up shower, donned my still-damp base layer, and took a few minutes to enjoy that extra blackberry fried pie from Arbuckle Mountain while catching up on my bonus claim form. The pie had lasted the journey from Oklahoma unscathed, and was just as delicious as the apple. Thoughts of this moment had helped keep me going over the long hours yesterday in the saddle. 🥧

Down at the bike, I packed up and swigged a protein shake with a couple Newtons to absorb more of that black coffee in my stomach. The streets of Santa Monica were still and void of activity at this hour, so I made it back to the Chevron station no problem. I filled my aux tank and clocked out of my REST2 bonus at 03:20 – just over six hours stop time.

Traffic was a breeze getting back on I-10 and riding west through the City of Angels on brightly lit highways under night skies. Then north via CA 57 at Pomona, highway 210 east to the junction with I-15, then north into the San Bernadino Mountains. The temperature dropped several degrees at elevation for a stretch, which felt good after the warm muggy air by the coast, then warmed back up in the next valley, but the air felt drier and more comfortable.

While cruising along, I Googled for Wienerschnitzels (gosh that sounds dirty) along my route after missing out on the opportunity in El Paso yesterday. It might be my last chance to bag that particular Bingo square for the rally, while still in the correct region.  I found no less than three of them in Victorville and then one in Barstow, but then realized they would all still be closed as I passed through this early in the morning. Same for the Luke’s Lobster that I knew was up ahead in Las Vegas.

Char called and caught me up on some of the recent official rally blog updates. This is the point where I finally heard about how badly the severe weather had affected the city of Tulsa just before Checkpoint 1, and everything the rally staff had gone through, working to ensure that we riders would be able to get some food, shelter and rest, before continuing our rides. It was mind-blowing, and I was filled with gratitude for their selfless efforts. Luckily for us all, power had been restored in time, and everything ended up working out as originally planned. The few annoyances I’d noticed at the hotel now made complete sense, and seemed very unimportant. If the article hadn’t been posted, I never would have guessed just how close to the edge everything had been.

Char also kept me entertained reading various commentary from distant spectators on various online groups and forums. What wasn’t amusing was hearing that Chris Comly was broken down with an(other) engine failure in the middle of the desert somewhere. Man, that guy! He’s dealt with so many mechanical issues on his IBR outings, you can’t help but root for him and his franken-Sportster to make it to the finish each time. It sounded like it had happened right along the I-15 somewhere along my route for today, but it had happened yesterday evening so surely he’d have received help long since then.

When elevation increased and temps dropped again, I pulled over to layer up – much more comfy! It was 06:00 and I was zipping through the Soda Mountains just before Baker, passing the exit for Zzyzx Road on the edge of the Mojave National Preserve. That exit had been mentioned prominently in a Harry Bosch novel I’d read, so I was particularly interested in seeing this area.

Right then, I got an incoming call from Steve Giffin, while at that same moment I noticed the unmistakable LED lighting of a rally motorcycle coming up behind me. Sure enough, it was him! After we exchanged greetings, he said “Hey, do you think that rider on the side of the road is one of ours?”

“Rider? On the side, you said? I must have missed him, do you think it was a rally bike?”

“Not sure, it looked like a cruiser with a big touring pack.”

We debated it over the next few miles and when he confirmed the guy had been after the Zzyzx exit (because I couldn’t even remember how far back the previous exit was before that), we decided that we needed to go back and make sure the rider was OK. This stretch of highway is the definition of the middle of nowhere. By then, we were at the next exit in Baker. We reversed direction and cranked it up to backtrack it. I was just putting two and two together and told Steve what I’d heard about Chris Comly’s breakdown somewhere out here, when we spotted a familiar-looking H-D Sportster over on the opposite shoulder.

“Yup, that’s Chris alright! Damn I can’t believe he’s still out here!”

We turned around at the exit, and coasted over to the shoulder with our flashers on, Chris welcoming us with raised arms and a wry smile. All things considered, he seemed to be doing OK and was resigned to his fate at this point, having withdrawn from the rally and still waiting on a tow truck like he’d been all night. He described the issues he’d been having with his engine that finally resulted in a failure of his primary chain, which exploded out of the engine case. Jeepers, that coulda hurt! Luckily, Chris was uninjured and had managed to get the bike to a safe upright stop on the shoulder.

He knew Baker was a few miles up the road, but wanted to stay with his bike to be sure he was there when the truck came. He had a cell signal, surprisingly, and still had plenty of water, but did accept some Clif Bars and jerky to help tide him over. Seeing as we had done our duty to stop and render aid to a fellow rider and there was nothing else we could really do for our unfortunate comrade, we wished Chris a short wait and bid him remain careful and watchful by the side of the highway. He certainly couldn’t have picked a much prettier place to break down in the desert.

Steve and I picked up our phone conversation as well as our pace, barreling north towards Vegas. We chatted for the next hour, exchanging stories of our second leg, where we’d gotten our rest bonus, etc. Made the miles go by very quick! We split up and hung up in Las Vegas, as Steve wanted to score a couple Bingo locations there. I hit some slowdown for construction through the city, but nothing too bad. Once back out in the desert, it was wide open throttle again.

Since it was a Saturday, Char was home so we chatted yet again to pass the time, me filling her in on the episode meeting Chris. Steve must have almost caught me up when I stopped for fuel and a nature break in Mesquite NV, because I later discovered he leapfrogged past me at that point. I passed another rally rider, Troy Martin, re-entering the highway after his own fuel stop while I was pulling off.

The next couple hours riding north on I-15 was quite scenic, through the corner of Arizona and then western Utah, though soon I became too distracted to enjoy it. Some time after crossing into Utah, my Zumo XT GPS started freezing up. It seemed to happen when an overlay for the some upcoming lane change or highway split was trying to display on-screen, while I was doing something else on the device. I’d seen something similar earlier in the ride and had been able to do a power reset to get it running. This time, once turned off the unit went completely dark and would not boot back up. Over the next hour or so I tried every procedure and trick I could think of for doing a soft or hard reset, holding in the power button for 30s, 45, and even over a minute. I even pulled over briefly to try plugging a USB cable directly to the back, in case it was a problem with the cradle. Nothing, just absolutely nothing would come up on the screen at all. Well shit.

My secondary GPS, the Zumo 350, was doing just fine at the moment and the route to the checkpoint fairly simple, so I wasn’t concerned about getting through the rest of my day. But the thought of facing the big five-day Leg 3 without my primary navigational tools that I’m used to made my stomach twist. I tried calling Char again, but she wasn’t picking up at the moment, so I did what any experienced rally rider does when they feel lost, alone, and nervous without their security blanket. About quarter to noon, I called the rallymaster.

This was perhaps the first time I’d called IBR staff about an actual malfunction rather than a bonus-related question during the ride. I wasn’t quite sure about protocol, but I’ve seen miracles performed for other riders in need, so why not try? I explained to Lisa Landry what was going on with the GPS and asked if she could put the word out around the hotel and online to see if anyone could loan or sell me their Zumo XT so I’d have one for the third leg. She first handed me off to Jeff Earls, who was already Googling my issue and had some device reset steps for me to try from Garmin. Unfortunately, there are only so many things to try with this unit and I’d tried them all and the screen remained completely blank – it was just a brick at this point. I thanked them for the attempt, and Lisa said she’d get back to me.

Several minutes later as I was veering off 15 onto I-70 east, she called back with a possible solution: a Cycle Gear store in Denver had a brand new XT in stock and they closed at 19:00 tonight. My ETA was hovering right around that time or a bit later, so I asked if there might be anyone around the hotel who would be willing to go pick it up for me if I paid the store by phone, but that was a negative. I thanked her and said I would try to figure things out. I called Char, filled her in on the situation, and got the phone number of the shop.

I called Cycle Gear, confirmed that they had the Zumo in stock, and asked if he (the manager) had heard about the Iron Butt Rally. He had, in fact, so I explained the situation I was in, and that I absolutely had to be at the Sheraton by 20:00 to get scored. Was there any way I could pick up the unit after hours? My mind is now going a mile a minute trying to work this problem and figure out how I can somehow get a hold of this device tonight without putting my rally progress at risk. After more discussion, we worked out a plan of sorts. I would pay for the GPS by phone so that the registers wouldn’t need to be available if I was able to squeeze it in before seven or got there a bit late. He said leaving it outside would NOT be a great idea in their neighborhood, but some of the staff should be around inside the store for a while after closing. So the first catch in the plan might be solved.

Catch #2: they wouldn’t do a credit card purchase over the phone, because they’ve somehow gotten scammed by this in the past. Really? So his idea was to purchase Cycle Gear gift cards online and call back with the numbers on those to make the purchase over the phone. Oy vey, this is getting complicated! I told him that I’d check on some other options and then either I or my wife would call back. I called Char back and outlined this convoluted and ridiculous plan. She agreed to figure out purchasing the gift cards and then call to purchase the GPS for me, and we disconnected.

During all this, I’m passing through some of the most beautiful landscape in the country. Despite the stress, I couldn’t help but register some of the beauty passing by me on I-70 through Utah! I haven’t ridden this section of 70 (west of Green River) before and it was just stunning. As I climbed through the canyon past Salina, I was out of cell service for a while as I climbed the San Rafael Swell. On top of that my phone ringer apparently wasn’t properly working through Bluetooth, so given all that, I missed several calls from Char over the next hour.

Emerging from the canyon on top of these remote desert highlands, I got a weak signal and called Char to respond to her urgent “CALL ME” text messages. She had some good news – Lisa’s online request for help on Facebook had been answered by a rally spectator named Geoffrey Greene who was at the checkpoint hotel. This gentleman has a spare Zumo XT and is willing to loan it to me for Leg 3. Wow, it was an incredibly generous and timely offer! However, I needed a few minutes to process this new option – I had already spent so much time on the Cycle Gear plan and was going to need to replace my Zumo anyway so maybe just better to buy the new one now? Plus I was unsure about depending on a random person I didn’t know to come through, when I still had another viable solution. Cell service was still sketchy so I told Char to just hold off a bit while I thought it through.

This was some beautiful country I was travelling through now – canyon walls, red rock, white sandstone, desert scrub. Despite the GPS issue, I was elated to be riding Utah again! I really wanted to get at least a couple photos, especially after passing by so many scenic pullout exit signs. Around 13:45, I finally felt like a quick stop was warranted to take care of a few different tasks, and pulled off at the Spotted Wolf Canyon View Area. Winding up a steeply paved driveway from the exit ramp, I arrived in a large parking area that was mostly empty and offered some really nice views and a restroom. I partook of both, shed a layer, and also re-stocked my tank bag food supplies from the saddlebag.

Feeling refreshed from the stop, I got back onto the highway and began the gradual descent down from these highlands towards Green River. Once the canyon spit me out onto the open plains and my cell signal seemed to be back on solid bars, I called Char back and she mentioned that the guy making the GPS offer was a past IBR finisher. Hearing that, all my doubts about him coming through vanished. I told her to please accept the offer from Mr. Greene on my behalf and provide my cell number so we could arrange to meet. After thinking it through, accepting Geoffrey’s offer seemed more sensible than dealing with the convoluted purchase from Cycle Gear, and would save precious checkpoint time.

Geoffrey texted me a bit later and told me he was actually a rally volunteer helping with scoring, so we could meet in the scoring room….perfect!  Now I could finally relax a bit (well, considering I still have two bonuses and 380 miles left to go) knowing that I had a solution for this dumb issue that could greatly affect my next leg. For sure I could have worked around having one less GPS, but it would have been a major distraction. Rally riders spend a lot of time getting used to our gear and our processes so that they become second nature. Changes like these can be difficult to approach with an open mind. 🙂

The remainder of Utah was less dramatic scenery-wise, shooting east across the flatter territory, but it went by quickly, with one stop for fuel in Thompson Springs. I was in Colorado about an hour later, watching a few isolated rain clouds hovering in the foothills northeast of Grand Junction. Luckily, they stayed up there and I stayed dry as I looped around the city and approached the mountains.

A few miles past Grand Junction, just before entering the tall valleys and canyons that cradle I-70 on it’s way through the Rocky Mountains, I exited into the scenic little farming community of Palisade CO. It struck me as a charming and neatly ordered little agricultural town. In a couple blocks, I turned on US 6 to cross the Colorado River, then turned immediately on a pretty little lane that parallels the water for a half mile before turning up the hillside. I pulled into the mostly empty gravel lot of a local country market to get my photo of daylight-only bonus COPA. We needed to capture the “Talbott’s Mountain Gold” sign atop the building.

Palisade Peaches are grown here in the western slope town of Palisade. This pocket of fertile land has the perfect growing conditions for peaches. The fruit is left to mature on the tree as long as possible without letting a single bruise appear.

As I turned back onto route 6, I spotted another rally rider coming from some gas stations I had passed on the way in, and at the time assumed it was Steve Giffin again. The rider fell in behind me as we followed US 6 east, squeezing close to the river and then finally merging into I-70 again. I called Steve and from his comments quickly realized that it wasn’t him on my tail, but rather Troy Martin.

We both kicked it into high gear along that beautiful and winding stretch of highway through the canyon, passing many slower vehicles and having an absolute BLAST as the road hugged the river’s curves tight as you like, and we were LEANIN! Whoo-hooo! It turns out we were riding around the same pace, so we ended up caravanning for the next couple hours, since there was enough traffic present to keep either one of us from getting too far ahead when the other dropped back.

A few miles outside Parachute, I spotted a tall column of smoke rising over the canyon walls, and as we drew nearer, it was apparent that there was a wildfire burning across the river in the foothills. This was my first time actually seeing a wildfire in person, so I was a bit spellbound and had to snap off a few photos while at speed. While bigger than it appears in this photo, this is just a small blaze compared to the raging infernos that can cover thousands of acres out in these parts, but it was still a novelty for this Easterner.

We got to Glenwood Springs and exited onto CO 82, which follows the canyon of the Roaring Fork River south, away from its junction with the Colorado. After all that nice riding and leaning, we were now mired in local traffic, just chomping at the bit. This was the only thru-road up the canyon, so everything is condensed along the main thoroughfare, with the inevitable traffic lights and slower speed limits. We bobbed and weaved to get around traffic after each light, and maintain positive forward progress. There was a beautiful scenic stretch for a few miles between Cardiff and Carbondale, where the beauty of this vale in the Rockies really shone through, lush green vegetation of nearby fields and forest lands, with a snowcapped peak (Twin Peaks?) dominating the southwest horizon.

It took us about 20 minutes from the interstate to reach bonus COCA. which needed to include our motorcycle in the photo.

The student body at Colorado Rocky Mountain School chose the humble oyster as their mascot. Make of that what you will.

I really needed to pee at this point, so I found some convenient bushes before hopping back on the bike to catch up to Troy for the trudge back to I-70, chatting a bit at the stoplights. We continued our joyous and curvaceous interstate ride east through the stunning and overbearing scenery of Glenwood Canyon – one of those places where it’s hard to concentrate on the awesome riding because you just want to look UP and marvel! We soon left the upper Colorado River behind us. However, there were many more exhilarating miles to enjoy through those great Rocky Mountain canyons, tracing a never-ending series of rivers, streams, and creeks all funneling down from the high mountains that walled us on all sides.

As we started our descent towards Denver, I was watching my trip meter with some concern, as I surpassed the 320 mile mark and knew I needed to get fuel soon. It also seemed prudent to get it as close to the checkpoint as possible, so I’d be starting the next leg with full tanks. I missed a couple chances for some easy off/on gas stations that I didn’t notice until it was too late. Finally, I waved adios to Troy and pulled off the I-70BL exit towards Golden. As I followed the signs for gas back over the highway and into a big shopping plaza, I realized I couldn’t have chosen a worse gas exit. Then when I pulled up to the pump at the Kum and Go, they only had a high-ethanol fuel blend (E15) which was a hard no. Can’t put that crap in my engine!

I pulled out of there and got myself back onto I-70, somewhat concerned, but figuring/hoping I probably still had another 20-30 miles range in the tank. There was just about an hour left until penalties started and perhaps 20 miles to the checkpoint. I was in good shape and took it easy on the throttle to conserve fuel, finishing out the the last mile on 70 and hopping onto US 6 to cut due east through the city. Google found me a gas station just off an exit in Lakewood so that was a relief. I could smell the barn now, even through those 93 octane fumes!

Just a few minutes down the highway, there was some traffic backed up from I-25. Oh no you don’t – no way I was getting stuck this close to the checkpoint! I maneuvered around the backup for a half mile until things were moving again and then hit I-25 southbound. I rolled it nice and steady those last few miles, now starting to feel how knackered the day’s stress and sporty riding had made me, on top of the effort and hours put in over the last few days.

Arriving at the hotel at 19:34, I accepted my check-in slip from a staffer and found a great parking spot next to Mike Brooke’s Hayabusa, right at the curb close to the door, where his “pit crew” was helping him take care of business. Made it! The lot was full of bikes by now and a few riders were still finishing up their checkpoint maintenance or whatever they needed to get done before getting to bed.

I grabbed my stuff for scoring and headed inside. Rather than check in immediately to officially end my leg, I first found myself a quiet table to prep for scoring in the banquet room, where the dinner buffet was set out and some riders were still chowing down. I removed my gear, got my laptop and paperwork unpacked and arranged, then went back and checked in with Bill Thweat for my official leg-ending time of 19:47, just 13 minutes to penalty. Now I have a full hour to prep for scoring.

While I was working on that, my friend Rob Griffith came by at one point holding out one of his Zumo XTs, offering it to me to use for the next leg. Apparently word had gotten out, and I was very touched by the gesture. Rob is on his rookie run of this rally and willing to loan a fellow rider one of his key pieces of gear, wow. Thanking him as intelligibly as I could manage, I told him that I was all set and had a GPS waiting for me in the scoring room.

A bit later, Jeff Earls came in, pulled up a chair next to me, and we had a quiet talk about some pace concerns the staff had watching my tracker during the leg. I was surprised, feeling that my overall pace isn’t usually that out of line, but recognized that I had been pushing the envelope hard this leg, especially on the morning of Day 4 with accelerations to maintain separation from other riders out of the checkpoint. Rules are rules and I was grateful to receive a warning only, which I took to heart.

When I finished my prep, I brought my claim form and check-in sheet to the scorer’s table, expecting to have some time to grab a bite to eat before getting scored. But this time around, they were ready for me almost right away. I went back to grab everything I needed for scoring and was shown inside to go through the meat grinder once again.

After my pics were downloaded to a USB stick, I was handed off to Lisa Stevens for scoring. First, however, since it was pretty dead in the scoring room by now, I asked to be pointed to Geoffrey Greene. I went over to shake his hand and take possession of his spare Zumo XT, thanking him profusely. Then Lisa and I had a grand old time while she scored me, chit chatting as she diligently went through all the prescribed steps. They had these big official Bingo card marker pens that I used to fill in the squares I was claiming on my card, which was optional but interesting to do while waiting. I’ve never actually attended a real Bingo game.

This time around, I was awarded points for all my claimed bonuses, but I had two errors on my claim form, for mis-transcribing digits in the odo numbers. Luckily, the errors were on two different bonuses, so they only dinged me 10 points for each one. Two errors on one bonus means it is denied so whew!

My curtailed REST2 bonus of 6h 9m had bagged me 3690 points, just 1110 short of the maximum. Cutting the rest short had certainly been the right decision considering my arrival time this evening. I’d managed to rack up another seven Bingo bonuses this leg, and scored two Bingo combos, 1ROW and GCOL, all adding up to an additional 2900 points for the leg, so I’d say they’d been worth the time for sure.

With the scarcity of bonus locations on this leg, I still felt the leaderboard would remain tight when standings were announced in the morning. I had pushed hard for three days and felt like I had put in a solid leg, having adjusted on the road to add more points than originally planned. All I could hope now was that it had been enough to redeem myself, and keep me in the running after the deficit from Leg 1.

With the borrowed GPS clutched protectively like a gold nugget (or fried apple pie), I headed out of the scoring room, the last rider to be scored for the night at around 21:00. The food had already been taken away from the buffet table in the dining room, but I must have looked so forlorn and pathetic that the helpful staff led me back to the kitchen where all the food was still piled onto a rolling cart and let me fill up a plate. Once again, pickings were slim and no longer warm, but I grabbed as much salad as I could scrape up along with some other odds and ends. I wolfed my food alone in the dining room, and then wandered off like a lurching zombie carrying all my gear to find the front desk.

Check-in was handled smoothly and she retrieved my box of pre-shipped tank-bag food to restock my supplies. I left the box at the desk for the moment since my hands were full, and headed up to my room to dump my stuff. Then I went back down and brought the food  out to the bike to pack it all away while chatting with Mike Brookes’ band of merry men – apparently friends of his from back home who’d come to help change tires and any other bike maintenance he needed before the third leg – they were good dudes.

I brought my hydration thermos in and topped it off in a convenient washroom sink to eliminate that task from the morning’s pre-departure list. Then I gathered up the rest of the food, my helmet, and some clean socks to swap in to my go-bag and headed back up to my room for the night. Jeff Earls was in the elevator and spared a few very kind words about my second leg plan, which boosted my spirit more than my exhausted features could probably show at the time.

Back in the room, I knew I needed sleep, but I had chores still to be done before I could get to bed: washing my LD Comforts; washing myself; prepping the laptop for routing the following morning; and finally setting up Mr. Greene’s GPS for my own use. I was so so grateful to have a working primary GPS for the upcoming final long leg of this ride! All said and done, I definitely short-changed myself on sleep opportunity once again. By the time, I closed the laptop lid, it was around 22:45. I finished laying out my clothes and gear for the morning and hit the hay just past 23:00, alarm set for just four short hours away (again!).

LEG 2 Stats
Total leg time: 65h
Start delay (meeting/routing): 2h 20m
Miles: 3734
Location bonuses: 11
Bingo bonuses claimed/awarded: 7/7
Bingo combos achieved: 2
Penalty points: 20 (minor typos)
Points: 50,714
Pie: 2

All bonuses claimed in order for Leg 2: TRK2, G1, ARCA, N2, TXFR, I1, OKD, TXTU, NMPT, NMHA, B1, TXEP, I3, I5, G2, AZKP, CALL2, REST2, COPA, COCA, GCOL, 1ROW