Greenwood Village CO – Idaho Falls ID
Sun June 25, 2023
(~997 miles)

Awakened around 03:30 at Checkpoint 2, four hours of sleep had done me some good, although it was far from a full bounce back to freshness. Now I could still feel that underlying deep Day 7 exhaustion, which would be tough to shake off without a full night’s rest. Checking the weather patterns online while drinking room coffee, I obliquely noticed the continuing high temperatures spread across the southern half of the country, but didn’t dwell too much on it. There were low pressure areas strung across the upper half of the US from coast to coast except for the pocket right around us in Colorado, Wyoming and Montana. At least it should be a dry start to the leg!

I headed downstairs to the meeting/breakfast room after I’d stretched out a bit and finished my coffee. This time, there were plenty of foil-wrapped breakfast burritos and fruit to go around. I hurriedly mowed down on a burrito with another cup of coffee to try and get alert before the rider meeting began, which it did promptly at 0400.

Apparently, we had all been on better behavior on this leg, so no lectures were warranted. Jeff got right to listing the current top ten riders. I was thrilled and shell-shocked (though more weary than anything else) when he got down to the end and announced I was now sitting in first place! It was a relief to have caught up and evened out my chances a bit, but it’s not a big lead, and scores are still bunched up closely on the leaderboard. We still have a huge five-day leg to ride. There are plenty of miles and opportunities ahead to screw things up – it is very much anybody’s game to win… or to lose.

Leg 3 rally books were divvied up alphabetically amongst the staffers in different parts of the room. I got mine fairly quickly from Donna Fousek and skeedaddled to the elevator, exchanging tired yet excited nods and grins with other riders as we headed upstairs to get our planning done. The book for this leg was thicker than the previous two. I had figured Jeff would go one of two ways for the third leg: either continue the pattern of halving the number of bonuses, meaning it would be down to around 15 and maybe add some sort of crazy combo; or else pepper the map with locations and choices.

The email with Leg 3 data files was already waiting by the time I’d reached my room. After quickly doing a basic import and scanning in the rally book to my phone, I could see there were some 83 bonuses available, scattered all over the country, and a few up in northern Canada! There were also four combination bonuses available in this set. I guess Jeff had broken out the pepper shaker, which is exactly what I was hoping for. I looked forward to digging in to figure out where to go next!

After parsing the points and availability data, here is what I arrived at for the Leg 3 bonus scatter:

The point value increases per bonus were not as dramatic as I would have thought for the third leg, but there were three big rocks standing out: in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories in northern Canada; Meat Cove at the northern tip of Nova Scotia; and good ole Key West, Florida. I also took note of the cluster of higher point bonuses in Las Vegas and southern California, which might add up quickly.

The first route I created explored heading up to the huge bonus in the Northwest Territories, since that was the biggest rock on the map. A run that far up into Canada looked like it was going to be a lot of throttle-twisting with fewer bonus stops, no chance for combos, nor any room for bailouts or improvisation. Once you were up there, there was really only one path back to the finish and just a few bonuses in between.

Once I had a loose idea of the points possible for NWT, I decided to look at the combos next. There were four combination bonuses including:

• TXKOL: “Texas Kolache Trail” (4001 pts) – a four-bonus combo in coastal southern Texas;
• PANS: “Mine is Bigger Than Yours” (7142 pts) – a two-bonus combo in Washington state and North Carolina;
• HOGS: “Hogs Coast to Coast” (6512 pts) – a two-bonus combo in Los Angeles and New York City; and
• RK: “Roadkill – Regional Specialities” (8844 pts) – the highest-value combo of four bonuses located in a rough rectangle around the US, in southern Montana, Seligman AZ, gulf coast Alabama, and south central Pennsylvania.

I quickly sketched out a route including the big RK combo along with HOGS and saw there were definitely more points available chasing the combos than heading to Yellowknife. Quickly eyeballing the long run out to Meat Cove, that option didn’t look as bountiful either, so I focused in on tweaking the two-combo route. I chose HOGS over PANS first because of the higher point bonuses in southern Cali and NYC. Based on how I’d divided the bonus values by color, the run out to the PNW just seemed like fewer points at a glance and more out of the way. There was a juicy high pointer in central Idaho that also drew my attention away from the northwest coast.

By now, I was feeling the pressure to get moving. The clock was ticking and there wasn’t time to fully vet every possibility. I had what looked to be a solid route, with what appeared to be several bailout options and choices to make later based on how things went. I did not take any time to search out Bingo bonuses, as I felt pursuing those at this point wouldn’t be worth the time spent. It was clear now that I would not be getting the Blackout bonus for covering the entire card, since my route wouldn’t be taking me anywhere near some of the tougher squares like Timmy’s (Canada) nor Schoop’s (Chicago). I’d keep an eye out as I rode and maybe look for them during my rest breaks, but the Bingo game wasn’t going to play a big part for me in this third leg.

Making a conscious decision not to make myself feel rushed this morning, since we have five days to get to the finish. I methodically transferred the bonuses and route data to my newly borrowed Zumo XT, as well as my secondary GPS, created my routing cheat sheet, and packed everything up to go. Down at the bike, I took time to clean my filthy windshield and helmet shield while chatting a few minutes with Wendy Crockett, who’d come to the checkpoint to help riders out with maintenance and moral support.

It was around 07:30 when I finally left the parking lot. Right away, I noticed my tire pressure was a bit low on the TPMS readout, so I pulled into a gas station just before the interstate to use their air compressor. After putting my credit card in the machine, nothing happened,. The digital display was so scratched that I couldn’t really make out what it said, or whether I needed to press another button. While I’m digging out my reading glasses, out of nowhere, a guy shows up by my side asking me if I’m in the Iron Butt Rally and do I need help with anything. Turns out he was a checkpoint spectator and goes by the handle ‘Riot’.

“Wyatt?” I asked as we shook hands.

“No, Riot.”  Oh, OK.

He helped me figure out what the screen was saying, but really I just needed to put the card in again and give it a good whack to start the pump going I think. 😉 I thanked him for stopping to help out, finished up my task, and stood for a selfie pic with him LOL. With a wave, I got out of the lot and quickly onto I-25 heading north.

Traffic was pretty light going through Denver early on a Sunday morning. I spotted a sign for Taco John’s and pulled off that exit for a quick Bingo opportunity. After pulling in and doffing my helmet to go in for a receipt, I realized the doors were locked. There were a couple people in there and it was well past 07:00 which was their posted opening time, so I waited until a young woman came to the door. She explained they were short-staffed this morning and didn’t have any food ready yet.

“That’s no problem at all!” I said. “I just need you to ring me up for a drink or something, and I don’t need the drink, just the receipt.”

With that familiar puzzled look, she allowed me in. It took her and an older lady cleaning up in the kitchen a couple minutes to get the register up, but then I got my receipt and thanked them as I scooted back outside. I documented the receipt quickly, hopped back on the bike, and got rolling back onto the interstate.

I-25 is fairly straight, wide and boring while coming north out of Denver and up to Fort Collins – a perfect start to the day in my book. The distant views of the Rockies off to the left were nice, but now seemed part of yesterday’s world. My first location bonus of the leg is up in northwest Wyoming, so I exited the interstate in Fort Collins and hopped over to US 287 to cut the corner up to Laramie. I’d gone this same route during the LDX Rally last year and knew that I could maintain interstate speeds and avoid Cheyenne going this way, plus the scenery doesn’t suck!

Char had tried calling while I was at the Taco John’s and we finally connected along this stretch and chatted for an hour, which helped the miles pass quickly along here. I took a brief look at the group Spotwalla at one point and noticed that most of the northern-oriented riders seemed to be sticking on I-25 straight up to Montana, rather than cutting the corner. Hmmm, interesting – I wondered how many would be making that epic trek up to northern Canada!

Route 287 joins with I-80 in Laramie. I covered the next 100 miles of fairly featureless interstate through the wide rolling plains quickly to Rawlins, where I veered north to leave the interstate and stick with 287. There were few cars along the highway through this open steppe landscape, and I started to really enjoy the ride, watching distant mountains grow slowly closer as I moved north.

After stopping to fuel up in Three Forks at the junction with WY 220, the landscapes that passed around me grew even more gorgeous, kicking off an epic stretch of riding that would last the remainder of the day. The scenery along this route is varied and spectacular in spots, with open steppe giving way to foothills, framed by tall wildflower-infused grasses hugging the roadside. There were sections that picked a path alongside the top of box canyons carved gracefully through the surrounding hills and countryside. The hues of the rock formations varied from black, to salty white, to dark red, to an amazing pale green as I passed through differing geologic formations.

Sweetwater Junction is a small wayside rest area in the middle of nowhere that allowed a quick stop for a nature break and protein shake, before carrying on. I was in a great mood, being out on the bike in fabulous weather, beautiful surroundings, after having gotten some sleep and being buoyed up by the success of my second leg. Cell service was spotty but I texted Char a few photos of the stunning countryside, wanting badly to share with her what I was seeing and experiencing in these moments. This was one of those high peaks in emotion you hit that remind you why you are doing this nutty ride, and that hopefully can sustain you during the inevitable lows.

The town of Lander presented a brief oasis of civilization, modern gas stations, and chain restaurants in the vast wilderness of this region, but I needed nothing for the moment and passed straight through. Soon, I crossed over the Wind River Reservation boundaries, and the grassy scenery was interspersed with the occasional casino, ranch or homestead. There were a few striking red rock ridges and bluffs, including one marking the western border of the reservation, with a major cut-through for the Wind River in Crowheart.

Leaving the reservation brought me into a wide beautiful valley, running along the river for the next several miles towards the town of Dubois. The valley was framed by a cool geologic landscape of rock towers and hoodoos of varying tonal colors, dominantly a unique and beautiful pale green off to my right, across lush green ranchlands. I spotted a sign for the Dubois Badlands wilderness area, which sounded like an interesting place to explore some day. It was a continuing backdrop of amazing scenery during this great afternoon riding through the American West!

Dubois (apparently pronounced “Dew-boy”) is a quiet historic town along 287, situated in a wide valley at the confluence of Horse Creek and the Wind River. The surrounding mountains comfortably box in the community, lending a feel of isolated charm, and making the highway the only route in or out. After passing through the downtown area, I pulled off the main road at about 13:50 onto a short gravel access lane and into a lot in front of a NAPA store to get my photo of daylight-only bonus WYDU “Fly Fishing”.

Welcome to one of the best trout fishing areas in the US. While it is primarily catch-and-release, you can dream about how tasty they are.

Now that I’d bagged my first bonus of the day, my mind started drifting ahead to what was next and I zoomed out a bit on the GPS map. I had to get up to the critical Roadkill Café combo bonus in southern Montana and…oh crap, I have to ride through Yellowstone National Park to get from here to there, don’t I?! I hadn’t really even considered that when routing back at the hotel, since my previous forays into Yellowstone had been either early morning or very end of the day when traffic wasn’t bad. I’d never tried to tackle it on a summer weekend afternoon. What have I gotten myself into?

I hadn’t seen any other riders all day since leaving I-25, except one guy on a Triumph Tiger, so I idly wondered what everyone else was up to. Probably avoiding Yellowstone, that’s what! Cell service was pretty non-existent in Dubois, preventing me from checking the group Spotwalla. So I just got moving again, ascending into the mountains of the beautiful Shoshone and Teton National Forests, as began second guessing my Leg 3 plan for the first time since leaving the hotel this morning.

My mind had sort of been on pause for the last few hours, with no real decisions to make, just keeping the pace up and enjoying the ride and scenery. Now I had to start thinking again. I considered the three bigger (non-Texas) combos and how they were basically arranged into a giant rectangle pattern around the country. If I were the rallymaster, where would I want to see the leading riders going for this leg? The symmetry of the combos’ layout around the country now seemed unmistakable. With my current clarity of mind after being awake and at peace for several hours, I realized that I hadn’t even considered a route to grab all three combos.

I was surprised at myself, but chalked it up to trying to get out of the hotel more quickly than I’ve done in the past. I should have taken just a bit more time to plan. A chill of disappointment ran through my body and settled in the pit of my stomach. While I still technically would need to run the time and distance to be sure, I felt in my gut that a three-combos route should have been an obvious option, and would be exactly what is needed to come out on top after this leg.

By going for the Dubois bonus, I may have already squandered any opportunity to change my route. I still had to get up to Montana through the busiest national park, run east to grab the Roadkill daylight-only bonus, and then head back west. Based on my cumulative exhaustion level, I had already figured that I was going to take the first of the leg’s two rest bonuses tonight after midnight, to catch up on much needed sleep. I was counting on that rest to be for actual sleeping and not reconstructing my entire route. In thinking through the map, I realized that my go-or-no-go point would come this evening when coming back west after the next bonus. Once I turned south for Idaho, I would be committing to the original route.

Coming in to Moran through the Buffalo Fork valley, my cell service returned for a bit. Char and I chatted a few minutes, and I explained how my brilliant riding day had just turned a little sour in my mouth. I confirmed that many of the northern riders on the group Spotwalla were already past the Roadkill bonus and most were continuing west on I-90 towards the PNW. Wow, I really screwed this one up! Only two seemed to be heading north for the border and one was already there, clearly positioned to make an epic journey. I wished them well.

As I turned north on US 191, I now had to collect my wits and prepare for running the gauntlet of Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. At the entrance for Teton, I didn’t have to wait very long in line, but couldn’t find my National Parks Pass. I felt flustered digging around in every pocket and fold in my wallet, as I knew I had recently purchased it and put it in a very safe spot! The young ranger watched me for a while. When I asked if I could just pull over after the booths to find it, she said “Ah just go on ahead,” and waved me on. Whew!

However, I knew this would happen again for Yellowstone, so I looked for my pass in every nook and cranny of my wallet as I cruised through the park, stunning vistas all around, but also lots of traffic keeping my pace down. I eventually did find it (right where I’d put it!) before reaching the Yellowstone south entrance. Now I could focus. I started using the passing zones whenever they presented, passing a multiple RVs and minivans at a time when the sight lines were safe to do so. While I’d heard the RV horror stories, I just had lucked out in the past (or planned better) when I’d come through here. All I could do was bite my lip and work the traffic to my advantage with a more nimble vehicle. Luckily there were only one or two real choke points where everyone was just stopped completely in both lanes to look at a deer or elk or whatever it was. I kept pushing on counterclockwise around the Grand Loop Road.

After getting past Yellowstone Lake, I turned left (per the magenta line) to take Norris Canyon Road over to the west side of the loop. My last time through this part of the park had been under rapidly darkening skies, so I enjoyed riding along the deep canyon and then by many thermal vents releasing steam in this northwest portion of the loop road. Going through Mammoth Hot Springs was really cool, though the place was pretty crowded. While it was all gorgeous of course, and part of my brain registered the natural wonders around me, I was firmly in rally mode and extremely frustrated with the traffic, my poor routing plan, and myself most of all. I longed to be back on open highway to start making up for lost time.

After heading out the North Entrance into Montana on US 89, I soon passed through Gardiner, of which I took no more notice than the last time I’d been here, half-asleep in a tow truck after crashing into a bison after dark in 2017. 89 is a real nice ride, following along the Yellowstone River through a wide canyon that eventually opened up into an even wider beautiful valley flanked by mountains on both sides. There were heavy grey storm clouds darkening the western sky with frequent visible flashes of lightning. Pulling up the MyRadar app, it still looked like clear sailing ahead of me and to the bonus, but the storms were moving east and would probably make things unpleasant on the way back. So my immediate goal became getting to the bonus before getting rained on.

Along this stretch, I did stop kicking myself long enough to enjoy one of those special moments in motorcycle ownership, as my odometer finally rolled over 200,000 miles, which is the limit of the readout on the ST1300. I thought back to that cold winter afternoon in early 2016 picking the bike up in New Hampshire with only 27 miles on the odometer. Looking around me at the stunning mountain vistas, which were reflected in my instrument panel, I couldn’t think of a better setting than a place called Paradise Valley to acknowledge the moment, as I zipped along with my hair on fire in a rally hunting for points! I managed to snap photos of the odo at 199,999 miles and then again after the reset to 1 mile on the odometer. It’s like a new bike! 😆

In Livingston, I pulled over to fuel up just past 18:30, putting in just a hair over 9 gallons.  Then I jumped right on I-90 eastbound, relieved to be at interstate speeds again after three hours of frustration and the constant focus required to gain an edge on the two lane traffic through the two parks. The GPS had me only running the slab for 15 miles or so before turning south to head to the bonus. However, when I reached the turn on Mission Creek Road (it wasn’t even an exit) and started up over a slight hill, it quickly turned to gravel, and looked like it could basically be somebody’s driveway! It didn’t look like it would be well-graded, but rather something that might quickly become a goat path or 4×4 track for all I knew.

All the other riders had been approaching this bonus from the east and then going back out to the interstate the same way. Given my long day already and uncertain plans ahead, I decided right then not to mess with a known thing. I managed a multi-point turn, got back down to the pavement, and pressed on eastbound another 26 miles or so to the exit in Big Timber. Passing through the sleepy downtown, I crossed back over I-90 and hooked back to the southwest on MT 298, one of the prettiest little curvy farm roads, along the Boulder River.

I was now facing directly into those fearsome storm clouds over the distant mountains and my adrenaline kicked things up a notch as I carved some nice twists (read: wobbled wearily and carefully around the curves) to reach the community of McLeod and Holly’s Road Kill Saloon, bonus MTMC, “Roadkill – Northwest”.

You kill it, they’ll bake it with a little lemon butter and dill.

Canadian rider Sjef Vanderaa was there finishing up his bonus stop, so I waved as I documented the stop, then dismounted to get my own photo. We exchanged a few words, then he took off while I stayed a few extra minutes to check the radar and stretch out a bit. I checked my time against my original plan. While I was actually only 34 minutes behind, I was never going to make the Boise area for my rest bonus as I’d planned, being this damn tired. If I stuck to my current plan, my rest bonus was going to have to be somewhere along the way to Boise, like Idaho Falls or Pocatello.

I was thinking more and more about those three combos, and had even started to wonder if Earls had actually arranged things so even all four combos might be possible. The timing was very restricted for a couple of those Texas bonuses so it was likely only possible for someone who left the hotel extremely early in the morning. So forget that, but I was also still afraid it was too late to head out to the Washington coast at this point. I would have a make my final decision soon.

Right now, I needed to get moving or I’d never do anything! I headed back along route 298 the way I’d come, and back through the quintessential western-looking main drag of Big Timber, stopping for a quick pic to remember it by.

My friend Jeff had tried to call when I was getting the bonus. Once on the interstate heading west, I called him back and had a nice call with he and wife Erin, giving them the lowdown on my last few days and my current plans, which gave me a chance to lay out all my thinking aloud to someone. I think I was a bit hungry for conversation. That call got me all the way to Bozeman, which was my final point of no return, while somehow dodging between all those storms. While chatting, I missed my exit to US 191 south, and had to use a cut-through to turn around on the interstate rather than ride a couple more miles. I signed off with Jeff and Erin so I could concentrate and think about what I needed to do now.

Evening was falling fast now, and temperatures were dipping as I cruised through the streets of Bozeman. Now that I had secured those important daylight bonuses, I was feeling the long-term exhaustion setting in, and pulled over briefly to consider my current dilemma. This was the big decision point – either head south now towards Idaho following my original plan, or continue west and gamble on a gut feeling about bagging the three big combos. Either way, I was going to have to continue riding hard as I could until past midnight (still over three hours away) so I could start my rest on the 26th, which was the designated day for the REST3 bonus.

My original plan was tight on time, as it was. I had no idea about the timing for this proposed new route I was considering, but figured it must be even tighter, considering that it would swing so much further to the northwest. I felt I couldn’t afford to take time right now to find somewhere, pull out my laptop, and verify the timing for a new route. However, if I took the chance and it didn’t pan out, I would have blown my original route, which still seemed a pretty decent alternative if a winning route was no longer possible. Plus, I’d still need to use up a good portion of my rest planning the rest of the combos route.

In the end, I was tired and knew I was tired, so I decided to stick with conventional (and conservative) wisdom – I had planned my ride and now I must keep riding that plan. While I figured now that it wasn’t the best route, it would be foolish to squander away my current plan, created in the calm quiet hotel room after a few hours sleep, unless I could actually run the numbers on changing it up. That mistake had cost me dearly in last year’s LDX rally. So, making what I learned in hindsight would be my poorest decision of the rally, I turned south on US 191. In doing so, I accepted that the best I could hope for now was holding on to a top 10 finish. This morning I had been in a strong position, and the advantage had been mine to lose. I had just done so in little over 12 hours, a dream scattered in the Wyoming winds.

Following the stress of making that disappointing major decision, my tired mind started fading quickly. My ETA for Idaho Falls was pretty close to midnight. I started to get some light rain on the rear end of those earlier storms as I rode south into Gallatin National Forest, tracing the path of the Gallatin River. I assumed I’d probably be out of cell service soon, so I stopped in a pullout by the river to layer up and call Char. Explaining my plans and letting her know I’d be incommunicado for the next couple hours, I asked her to book me a hotel we’d previously discussed.

Then it was a hard dark ride, alone in my helmet, eating up the miles southbound on US 191, bummed about my goal readjustment for the rally and doing what I needed to fight off the sleepies. I had several Atomic Fireballs, sang my lungs out, and stopped a couple times to stretch and walk around the bike for a couple minutes, all to keep myself alert.

I made it through West Yellowstone, continuing south from there on US 20, and then realized I had to stop for a nap. I pulled into a big gravel lot area by a gas station in Island Park, but wasn’t spotting a place that looked safe to lie down by the bike for a kip, so I pushed on. Another half mile and I spotted a simple paved pulloff along the roadside. I had to stop, despite the spattering rain drops, and immediately laid down on the far side of the bike, setting my alarm for 15 minutes.

Feeling a bit better after the nap, I continued on through the dark night, but at least the rain had stopped by now. Approaching St. Anthony, the road converted to a divided highway. That made riding a lot easier as the road reflectors were easier to make out, and it was just easier to see more of the roadway ahead, feeling less like being in a tunnel. I pulled off the highway again in Rigby, just to get off the bike and do a couple jumping jacks and stretches to wake up for the final bit.

Ten miles later, I drifted into Idaho Falls right around midnight, and found my way to a Sinclair station close to the Comfort Inn, where my nice comfortable bed was waiting for me. There was another rally bike at one of the pumps, and I recognized veteran rider Andy Mackey from several past events. He was planning to grab a room next door as well.

The receipt from the gas pump had the incorrect time (of course!). Luckily, the station building included an honest-to-goodness 24-hour McDonalds, with dining room still open even at this late hour. I headed inside, followed closely by Andy and we chatted tiredly while waiting for service at the register. When nothing happened after a couple minutes, I eyed the unfamiliar self-serve kiosk and said, “ah what the heck, give it a try”. I quickly ordered a small soft drink, and like magic I had an accurately time-stamped receipt within seconds.

Bidding Andy a good rest and safe ride, I headed back to the bike and processed my REST3 starting receipt, clocking into my rest sometime around quarter past midnight. I tenderly re-mounted the ST and headed over to the hotel. Check-in was thankfully quick, and I was safe in my room for the night around 12:35 local time.

After the normal chores – washing LD Comforts and showering – I spent just a few minutes in Basecamp looking at a what-if scenario if I had skipped the Wyoming bonus and gone for the three combo hat trick. Based on a quick assessment, it looked like it had absolutely been possible to complete such a route, and I hadn’t even thought to look at it while back in Denver. This didn’t really make me feel any better right now ☹, so I closed the laptop and got myself to bed just past 01:00, with the alarm set for six hours (!).