Coraopolis PA
Sat June 17, 2023
(~35 miles)

Registration day! While there will still be a good amount of downtime yet to come over the next two days, the big flywheel of the rally machinery, which started slowly cranking over at some point two years ago shortly after the last Iron Butt Rally finish, would now be revealed as already whipping along at a fearsome rate. Its purpose is to churn us riders towards that moment where all of our decisions and preparation leading up will finally be put to the test when we’ve left the hotel parking lot in a cloud of exhaust and cacophony of honking horns.

I was up at 06:00 and down at breakfast by 06:30. Not because I was in a hurry to stand in a bunch of registration lines, but because the breakfast buffet was only set out until 08:00. 😉 Plus who can sleep late when you now have Shit To Do? The excitement is contagious, even the third time around – this is why we are here after all!

The rally poster had been erected on an easel out in in the lobby for all to see, guaranteed to get each rider’s synapses firing, as we speculated about every piece of minutiae in the rally theme artwork. I gathered around with a few of my comrades, peering sleepily at it and wondering aloud about What Da Heck Does It All Mean? Food was obviously going to play some part in this year’s rally theme.

Speaking of which, I did have a nice relaxed breakfast while waiting for the long registration line at 07:00 to whittle itself down (I am no fan to standing in lines). I sat with James E, Ben Ernst, and a few others, and this morning’s conversation was heavily weighted towards dissecting the rally poster.

Many of us recognized the giant peach water tower from alongside I-95 in South Carolina, but apparently there is also one in Alabama. There were apparently also several different Road Kill Cafe restaurants in different locations around the nation, including one here in Pennsylvania. None of them seems to look like the one in the poster, however, based on photos I Googled. Hmmmm. And what about the guy in the boat? It looks like a lobster boat to me, but why in a river? Next to saguaro cacti? A chicken crossing the road? And that mysterious dark blob under the guardrail, wtf is that? What does it all MEAN???

Someone proposed the bonuses would be categorized into food groups based on the road sign, though I wasn’t feeling that theory too strongly. Mike Brooke sauntered in at some point and sat at the table to some laughter. He was wearing his modular helmet to test the mounted video camera while capturing some of the riders in their natural state on registration morning. 🥴 People weren’t sticking around long at breakfast though, wanting to get started with the registration process, and many were already suited up in full riding gear in anticipation of doing their odometer check first.

Additional exciting news from yesterday was the publication of a brand new website address and format for official Iron Butt Rally information and updates, in the form of a WordPress site at https://ironbuttrally.net. It seems the rally powers-that-be have decided to break from the tradition of in-depth daily newsletter-style reports in favor of a blogging approach, with shorter and more frequent updates, possibly by different authors. This should be interesting!

After bussing my dishes, I stopped by another table to chat with Mike Kneebone himself and his lovely wife. As founder of the Iron Butt Association and savior of the IBR event itself, he now mostly sits back and gets to watch all the insanity that he set loose upon the world a few decades ago. I thanked him as always for his vision at bringing us nutjobs all together to compete over all these years. We talked a bit about his recent bike trip to Europe, speed limits, camera traps, and other miscellany before I moseyed on my way.

The registration line had disappeared by now, so I headed over to the table manned by Jeff Earls and shook hands as he welcomed me back and looked to find my registration paperwork packet on the table. There was a bit of a kerfuffle as my paperwork appeared to be missing. By process of elimination, we postulated who had taken the wrong one and Jeff said “Well they’ll find out pretty quickly when they get to the first station!”  Sure enough, about a minute later a staffer came looking for the correct packet with the rider trailing sheepishly in tow.

Forms in hand, I went to observe the hotel’s wing of banquet rooms where the various registration stations were set up for the rally staff volunteers to process us. Part of our paperwork is an overall registration checklist. There are about ten different stations for us to visit and get sign-offs from the staff, including motorcycle tech inspection, the odometer course check, camera setup, SpotWalla verification, insurance verification, etc.  Only after every box is checked and staff signature obtained is a rider officially entered into the scoring database as a starter for the 2023 Iron Butt Rally.

It was only 08:00 and the lines were long at every station. To me, especially in this post-pandemic era, a line is long if there is someone in it. 😉 Most of these lines had many someones. I decided to head back to my room to relax and re-review the paperwork to ensure I had everything I needed ready to go. I came down later and hung out by the rally poster with a few folks to eavesdrop on more speculation about the theme. I headed outside to uncover the ST, then took some shots of the tech and odo stations in progress.

Approaching 10:00, I scoped out the registration lines again and things seemed to be settling down, except for the camera line, which always seems to be backed up. So I tackled some of the other tasks, including video statement, SpotWalla confirmation, insurance check, release forms, witnessed liability signatures, and official photo portrait. I felt a bit less like a rat in a maze than I would have earlier in the morning and things progressed smoothly. The camera line was still silly long, so I picked up my rally swag and headed back upstairs to drop it off and change into riding gear. I had lucked out into a room overlooking the front parking lots so I could see the parked motorcycles in the central roped-off area, along with the inspection activity happening just below.

Geared up with helmet and paperwork in hand, I headed out to the bike. The morning air was still surprisingly cool and fresh, which felt great after the fairly warm days just behind us. Making sure I had my paperwork, ID, bike registration etc ready to show, I started up and headed over to tech inspection, where there was now plenty of room at the curb. Dan Simmonds, a quiet guy who has completed some really monster LD rides, was assigned for my inspection. We got along just dandy, and things went routinely and quickly including the always-fun task of trying to read the VIN number on the ST, which is barely accessible looking down the front forks.

Jim Frens, another legendary rally rider and fellow ST’er was staffing this station as well and stopped to chat about oil (yes, really!) and the ST1300. Although my aux tank has been approved on two prior IBRs, I wasn’t yet recorded in staffer Bryan Roberts’ “book” that he’s now keeping to track his inspections from year to year. Dan called him over to verify I was good, and there was no problem – I’m in the book now!

Next, I proceeded straight ahead to see Tim Masterson at the odometer course check-in. In another break with tradition, we’d been given the details for the odo course in advance this year, to help speed up the process and reduce the need for do-overs. It was a pretty simple 34.5 mile route, hopping onto I-376 westbound for 17 miles or so, turning around at Center township and coming straight back to the lot. The cool air and patchy sunshine felt great, and I enjoyed being back on the bike this morning, even for a short time, just taking it easy while another rider or two zipped on by me. For some reason, there was a lot of roadkill along this stretch of 376! I didn’t miss any turns and when I pulled back up to the line, Tim dutifully recorded my ending trip meter readout and signed off on my form.

Since I was geared up, I headed right back out to buy a couple things at the Target I’d spotted down at the next exit when dining at the Yard the past two nights. Next, I wanted to fill my fuel tanks since I had no plans to ride again before the rally start on Monday morning. Man, the gas stations in the immediate vicinity of the rally hotel are scarce and a bit hard to find! First, I headed right across the street from Target to a Sam’s Club station, not realizing it’s for members only. So I brought up Google and the next nearest station was down the interstate yet another exit, which was a bit surprising with all the commercial properties all around me. I found the Marathon station and filled up alongside a couple other riders who’d had the same idea. I found a couple back roads to take me back up to the hotel, avoiding the jammed traffic light intersections at the offramps.

I headed directly back in to the registration wing when I got back. Lo and behold, there was no more line for camera verification! I was happy to sit down opposite Jim Fousek, who is a regular IBR staffer and always puts forth a friendly face. He got me squared away with my SD cards for the three legs, taking a photo of me on each one as an identifier.

With that final hurdle cleared, I stomped over to see Mr. Earls again to hand in my paperwork. After checking down the list, he entered my name in the computer, gave me a big smile and handshake, saying “Welcome to the Iron Butt Rally!” Why, thank you very much indeed, sir!

I have to say here, hats off to the rallymasters and all the volunteer staff that help get 100+ riders inspected, checked in, poked, prodded, and generally pointed in the right direction within the span of a few hours. You all make this event possible and the best vacation ever, so thank you!

Upstairs I slipped back into something less waterproof, then fought some more with the hotel TV to try getting my laptop hooked up (unsuccessful – they seem to have these things locked down for some reason). Around lunchtime, I received texts from Gerry and James to meet for lunch in the hotel café area. I joined them en medias res, and ordered a grilled sausage, which came on a roll with onions and peppers, flanked by some pretty tasty fries.

After a leisurely meal, basking in the glory of being through registration, we strolled out to the parking lot once again to let our food settle and chin-wag with our fellow contestants. Mario had his LD Comfort-mobile opened up to sell his amazing undergarments to whomever may need an item, or two, or three. There were dogs, so I had to go hang out there for a bit first. 🙂

Paul Meyer had his 2023 Kawasaki Ninja all farkled up and loaded for bear, complete with huge Sevina aux lights and a car tire on the rear wheel. Now Paul is a very tall guy, must be at least 6′ 3″, so I’m just stumped at how he is able to fold himself up on this thing for days on end. But it obviously works, as he is coming fresh off a win at this year’s Heart of Texas rally, for which I congratulated him and we discussed at length.

 

I continued wandering about, chatting with different riders for a couple hours or so, snapping the odd photo and just trying to keep the excitement contained. This was the hurry-up-and-wait part of the pre-rally weekend, where you check and re-check things several dozen times. Then you re-think and go check again. You are now officially entered in the Iron Butt Rally and there is nothing in your way, after months and months of waiting. Except more waiting. 🤪

I was back down to the lobby around 17:00 to meet up with Lisa Rufo for a special and somber reason. Earlier in the year, the LD riding community lost one of our own to illness, in Chris Rasmussen from Charlotte NC. Chris was a fixture at most east coast rally events over the past several years, and was an ardent supporter of the Iron Butt Association and especially of his fellow riders. He really seemed to love seeing what other riders were accomplishing and cheering them on while they did it.

Chris had applied for years to enter the IBR and had finally been selected as a participant this year. Sadly, his health took a sudden turn for the worse just a couple months prior to the start. Many of us riders volunteered to take along a bit of Chris’ ashes on their rally, so that at least in some way, he would still get to take that last big ride. I received my packet from Lisa with a sticker affixed of Chris’ IBA number #60711, and decided that I would scatter his ash somewhere remarkable and beautiful, when the opportunity presented.

There had apparently been an issue with the printing of the rally t-shirts this year, so not everyone received their ordered shirts in their swag bag. Long-time staffer Donna Fousek had herself set up in the lobby, surrounded by cardboard boxes and bright red t-shirts of all sizes, checking people off as they collected what was theirs. I picked up the extra shirt I’d ordered and made another quick trip upstairs to drop it off in the room.

Six o’clock rang in cocktail hour before the Last Chance Dinner. The lounge area of the lobby was chock full of riders, rallymasters, staffers, and guests, all enjoying a final well-mannered night of frivolity before the game faces come out and the tension levels arc upwards towards that starting line and that pointing finger.

Around 19:00 the buffet line was open for business. My buds and I were standing somewheres in the middle of it when we overheard someone say there was a second buffet line starting down the hallway. We moseyed in that direction and enjoyed a much shorter line to access the bountiful tubs of huge hamburger patties, pulled pork, salad, ham & broccoli, mac & cheese, and brownie/ice cream bowls. I grabbed a burger along with a little bit of each side, and we scored one of the outside tables in the courtyard to enjoy our bounty. It was another great relaxing meal, with more chat and speculation about the rally theme, the new rally website, and stories about today’s registration process.

After the meal, I stopped off to chat with Bill K, Team Kiwi, and a few others in the bar area, eventually shifting over to the couches. After some more quality time at the bar with Mssrs. Andrews and Buskell, including some good convo about Chris Rasmussen and a toast in his honor, I finally made my way upstairs for the night around 22:00. It would be the longest and most comfortable sleep I’d have for the next 11 days.