THIS IS AN ARTICLE WRITTEN FOR THE BMW OWNER’S

CLUB MAGAZINE, BMW  ON

Published in the June, 2001 issue

(this is the full text, some editing was done for the magazine version)

 

As the winner of the 1999 Iron Butt Rally, many people have asked me many questions about my ride.  Along with the expected questions of “How much did you sleep? How fast did you ride?”, the most common have been “What did you do differently than the other 98 entrants?” and “How did you manage to ride over 13,000 miles in 11 days?”  I have thought long and hard about these questions and have (I think) finally arrived at some answers.

 

My ’97 K1100LT broke down while I was in 2nd place half way through the 1997 Iron Butt.  From that day on I was constantly thinking about the ’99 rally.  I developed a strategy that encompassed three phases: planning, preparation and execution.  I wanted to win the rally, and I wanted to do it on the same bike that let me down in ‘97.

 

In retrospect, I believe that this attitude was the primary reason for my success in the ’99 event.  I had developed a mindset that I would win.  By the time the rally started on August 30th , I had completely convinced myself that I would be victorious.  Nothing was going to stop me.  It may have been a cocky attitude, but I believe it was an attitude that winners of many contests share.  The next step, after convincing myself of the outcome, was to develop a plan that would achieve the desired results.

 

THE PREPARATION

Prior to the rally, I improved my physical condition by losing 30 pounds.  I also stopped consuming caffeine two months before the start.  However, I believe that doing well in endurance riding is primarily a mental challenge, so I worked on preparing my mind as well.  I would constantly visualize getting bonuses, overcoming fatigue and getting by on less sleep than I normally need.  Along with practicing route planning, I studied maps of the US and Canada.  I was not trying to memorize roads; just becoming familiar with the relationships between cities and states in areas unfamiliar to me. 

 

I developed and practiced routines that would help me avoid wasting time while getting gas, going to the bathroom and getting sleep.  I came up with scripts that I would recite before stopping.  For a gas stop it went something like: “Pull up to the left side of the pump; dismount and put the bike on the centerstand; unplug helmet headset cord; take off gloves; walk around back of bike while opening auxiliary fuel tank cap; put credit card in pump while taking nozzle off of pump; move tankbag over while filling auxiliary tank…” and so on.  Using this script, and with a lot of practice, I could consistently take on a full load of gas (10.7 gallons), fill out my log, secure my receipt and be on the road and up to speed in under 7 minutes.  I had similar scripts for getting sleep and stopping for bonus photos and I constantly practiced them in my mind.  I approached the Iron Butt as eleven 24-hour rallies stuck together.  I’ve had success in many one-day rallies and was trying to apply the same winning techniques to the Iron Butt.

 

As part of my mental preparation, I developed a plan to handle how I would pick bonuses.  I bought a lap top computer and installed Auto Map, an old, but fast, mapping program.  Since the main checkpoints are disclosed well in advance, I created 4 “journeys” or routes, each corresponding to a leg of the rally.  When I would receive the bonus lists at the start of each leg, I would enter those I was considering into the preplanned route.  The computer would instantly give me the mileage necessary to complete that route.  Before leaving home, I prepared cards showing the time allowed for each leg.  I would divide the distance of my proposed route by the allowed time to get a miles-per-hour figure that I would have to maintain in order to make the next checkpoint in time.  While underway, I used the Overall Average Speed window on my Street Pilot GPS unit to verify that I was traveling at a rate above the necessary speed.

 

I have been asked numerous times how I knew what overall speed I could maintain.  The only answer I can give is that it has taken almost 20 years of endurance riding, competitive and otherwise, to figure that out.  I’m sure it differs for every rider, but I’ve found that it can be increased with very disciplined stops and the proper mental attitude.  I was able to maintain an average slightly above 60 mph, including stops for gas, sleep and food.

 

My overall strategy called for me to be in the top 25% of the pack at checkpoint one in Kennewick, WA; the top 10% at check two in Gorham, ME; the top 3 by the third checkpoint in St. Augustine, FL; and, as stated, first at the Finish back in Ojai, CA.  Preferably, I wanted to be higher than 3rd by the Florida check, but would settle for less.  I used this plan to help determine which bonuses I would attempt on each leg.

 

Although the Garmin Street Pilot GPS had a fairly extensive map, as did Auto Map, I took along a full set of AAA paper maps: all of the regional maps and one of the entire US.  My clothing consisted of three pairs of light weight cotton sweat pants that I wore under my Aerostich, a couple of short & long sleeve tee shirts, and some socks.  I also had a Gerbing electric jacket, a Tour Master two piece rain suit and one pair each of heavy and lightweight gloves.  My boots were waterproof Gortex from BMW.

 

Although the bike was in pretty good shape, with 83,200 miles, I had an annual service done in July at All sports Honda/BMW in Grand Junction, and asked the mechanic, (insert name), to look it over closely with the Iron Butt in mind.  Extras included the GPS, a CB /intercom system and a Valentine One radar detector.  When I bought the bike in ’97, I had installed an electrically operated cold water drinking system, which has proved invaluable as well as a set of PIAA driving lights, a Fuel Plus unit and a Radio Shack dual timer/clock.  I changed the front tire (Dunlop 591) the day before leaving for California and arranged to get a rear tire (Dunlop 491) installed at Starcycle in Castaic, close to Ojai.  Other than shipping myself a CARE package of clean clothes and Polaroid film to the checkpoint in Maine, and making some motel reservations, I was set.  I had reservations at one of the nicer motels in Ojai, where I made sure they had a pool.  I make it a point of swimming an hour or so each day for a few days before a rally in order to help me sleep.  The anxiety or “pre-rally excitement” can often keep me awake.

 

 

 

THE RIDE

Routing of the first leg to Kennewick was pretty straightforward; I didn’t want to go to Los Angeles and I didn’t want to travel up the coast.  I also wanted to avoid the traffic mess known as Sequoia National Park.  As the 99 entrants left Ojai in various directions, I headed into the desert to collect bonuses in Nevada and Utah, feeling very relaxed and confident.

 

On the way to Kennewick, I saw a number of my fellow competitors.  Everyone was smiling and having a great time.  When I pulled into a gas station in Cedar City UT for a receipt bonus, Gary Eagan and Rick Morrison (winners of the ’95 & ’97 rallies, respectively, friends of mine and both riding 1100LTs) were standing by the pumps laughing at me.  I asked what was so funny.  Rick said “You, and us.”  I didn’t get it.  Gary said, “I don’t think I could get a four year degree, but I could definitely get an AA degree in the time we’ll have before the check opens”.  It was priceless Eagan.

 

I rode the first leg straight through, 1500-plus miles in 22 hours.  I had Eggs Benedict for breakfast at a Denny’s, got a motel room and even managed to get 6 hours sleep before the checkpoint opened.

 

Shortly after receiving my bonus list for the second leg, I realized that a ride to Plano Texas, for a stop at Ron Ayer’s home, was necessary to do well on that section.  Himself an accomplished endurance rider, Ron had to withdrawal from the ’99 rally due to a work conflict.  Visits from competitors would no doubt cheer him up.  I added the two bonuses in Utah and aother, 80 miles from my home in Colorado, and came up with an average necessary speed of 45.3 mph, which was a fairly sedate pace.  I wrote out a route sheet on a steno pad, packed up and got ready to leave.  The whole process, from the time I was handed my bonus pack to the time I was walking out the motel room door, took a little under an hour

 

About 5 hours into the second leg I stopped and helped Rick and Gary plug a hole in the rear tire on Rick’s LT. They had been there a few minutes and weren’t having any success with the BMW tire plugs.  We used my Stop ‘N Go plug gun and had the bike on the road within a few minutes.

 

At a bonus near Vernal, Utah, I let something happen I told myself I wouldn’t; I allowed another entrant to persuade me that my plan wouldn’t work.  Shane Smith, from Mississippi riding an ST 1100, told me he didn’t think we could do the Canyonlands bonus and still get to Ron Ayer’s home in time.  I found myself agreeing with him.  As I rode toward the next bonus I began to doubt Shane’s assertion.  I pulled off in a small town in Colorado, booted up the computer and re-did the math.  I re-convinced myself that I could accomplish my original plan, and I headed back into Utah towards Canyonlands National Park.

 

A little after midnight on Wednesday I stopped and slept for 1-½ hours on the way to Texas.  Later in the day, after lunch at Ron Ayer’s home, I headed north and east towards Tennessee.  I got tired in east Texas and, failing to find a rest area, pulled off and parked in the shade of some trees.  The weather was warm and sunny so I took off my Aerostich before lying down, using my bike cover as a ground cloth.  I set my sleep timer for one hour, and was quickly asleep.  I awoke after only 15 minutes, discovering a swarm of small, black ants crawling on my arms; it was them biting that woke me.  After brushing the ants off I contemplated lying back down, reasoning that it took them 15 minutes to bother me the first time, should I try for another 15?  I decided to get on the bike and look for more suitable sleeping arrangements.  I rode the rest of the way to Maine before sleeping again.

 

I arrived in Maine and secured a room near Gorham at 12:30 a.m. on Thursday, 13 ½ hours before the check would open.  I took a shower and set my timer for 9 hours and fell fast asleep in a warm, comfortable bed.  I awoke after only eight hours and couldn’t get back to sleep. 

 

The biggest bonuses on the next leg (Maine to Florida) were at Prince Edward Island; Cutler, Maine; and Maryville, Tennessee.  The mileage was about 2,550, requiring an average speed of 53 mph.  It was a little tougher pace than the previous legs, but, considering I was very well rested, it was well within my level of ability.  Other than warnings about encountering moose in Canada, a “performance award” from a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer and hellatious rain from tropical storm Dennis, the ride to Florida via Prince Edward Island and Tennessee was pretty uneventful.  I slept a total of 2 ½ hours in the allotted 48.  I was tired when I got to the Florida check, but I was not exhausted.  I had, however, scored some major points and moved into first place.  When Mike Kneebone and Bob Higdon entered my odometer reading into their computer, Bob said “Oh my God!”  He had trouble believing the mileage I had ridden. In retrospect, I realize that my performance on this leg of the rally is where I had truly “won it.”

 

The fourth and final leg had many big point bonuses.  The largest one was a major backtrack to White Plains, New York.  It was another ‘must-do’ for me.  From there, I planned on going to Rugby, North Dakota, then down to Lebanon, Kansas.  I knew if I were successful no one in the rally could catch me in the points race, which is how performance is ranked.  On the way to North Dakota, I had my only serious problems with the bike; the fuel injection system had gone into “limp home” mode, running very rich and causing it to foul a spark plug.  I stopped in Wisconsin, changed a plug and was on my way.  The bike wasn’t running well, but at least I was moving.

 

I began to get depressed on my way up to Rugby knowing that the delay incurred diagnosing the problem and working on the bike would make it impossible to now get the Lebanon bonus.  It was also windy and getting cold.  All in all, I was feeling pretty low when I arrived at the geographical center of North America.  I took my bonus photo and went inside a restaurant and reran my calculations, this time without Lebanon in the route.  I was so down that I called my wife at home for moral support.  I asked her to run the numbers on our home computer.  She came up with the same figures I had.  “I can do that,” I said.  “Sure you can,” she replied, “Now get back on the bike and get going.”  What a lift!  The sun was setting as I was heading west out of Rugby.  It was a very beautiful sight, so much so that I stopped and took a picture.  It really lifted my spirits, if only for a while.

 

I stopped and slept for an hour in a bank parking lot in Bismark ND, then headed for Montana.  It was here, the Wednesday night before the end of the rally, that I experienced my only tough times of the entire rally.  I was tired and stopped to sleep.  After finding a safe place (it was two in the morning), I set the timer and lay down beside the bike.  I awoke after fifteen minutes.  This time it wasn’t ants that awoke me, but cold shivers.  I was just too cold to sleep.  I remounted the bike and rode another 80 miles before I needed to stop again.  I went through this routine three times, never sleeping for more than a half an hour at a time.  I kept forcing myself to continue, saying that it wouldn’t be long before the sun came up, that I could take a nap when it got warmer.  In retrospect, I should have gotten a motel room and two or three hours of good, warm sleep.  I would have been time ahead.

 

As the sun came up Thursday morning, I was near Billings, Montana.  The rising sun made me feel much better.  The speed indicator on the GPS said I was ahead of schedule.  Everything was right with the world again.  I decided to cut south into Wyoming, not wanting to go anywhere near Yellowstone or go through Salt Lake City from the north.  I hope they get the freeway work done in that city someday!  My detour added a couple hundred miles to the route, but I had plenty of time.

 

I stopped for gas and a bite to eat Thursday evening in Utah, taking my bonus list into the restaurant to see if there might be something that I could pick up on my way in to the finish in Ojai.  Sure enough, there was a bonus at Primm on the Nevada-California border, and another in Baker, California, for a total of 422 points.

 

In Primm, I went into Buffalo Bill’s Casino to get the gaming token required for the bonus.  The cashier told me I would have to get it at one of the tables.  I dropped a $10 bill on the nearest 21 table and asked for two 5$ chips.  I put one in the pocket of my ‘Stich.  The other I put on the table.  I don’t remember my hand, but the dealer busted.  I left the two chips on the table and won a second hand!  I contemplated staying.  Maybe I could offset some of the cost of this trip, I reasoned.  Alas, I came to my senses, dropped the chips in my pocket and left.

 

On the home stretch to the Finish in Ojai, I stopped just east of Barstow for a nap at two o’clock Friday morning.  It was here that I made a nearly catastrophic mistake.  I laid down in a parking lot and set my timer for one hour.  Just before I closed my eyes, I moved the timer closer to me.  What seemed like only a few minutes later a semi truck parked nearby and the sound of his air brakes being set woke me.  I was really pissed off!  I checked my timer to see how much time was left.  It read 59 minutes and the colon wasn’t blinking.  I had mistakenly turned the timer off when I moved it closer!  I bolted up, looked at my watch and saw that I had overslept an hour longer than planned.  I jumped on the bike and headed for Ojai.  As it turned out, I had plenty of time, arriving at the finish with an hour to spare.  However, had it not been for that truck….

 

On the ride into Ojai, I reflected on the last eleven days.  I had seen some fantastic sunsets and sunrises.  I had traveled many roads I had never ridden before and, generally, had a pretty easy ride.  I had only two close calls while riding, not bad considering the distance I had traveled.  The high points, emotionally, were getting bonuses and seeing my fellow competitors at the checks and bonus locations.  On average, I had ridden about ten miles per hour over the speed limit, usually just fast enough to keep ahead of the trucks. 

 

It was very uplifting to see all of the spectators and my fellow entrants at Widder Enterprises, the host location of the Start and Finish in Ojai.  Again, when Mike and Bob entered my odometer reading into their computers, Bob said “Oh my God!”  Mike just shook his head.  I asked what was wrong.  “You rode almost 5,000 miles on the leg,” he replied.  “Yeah,” I said, “it felt kind of far.”

 

At the awards banquet I found out I had bested Rick Morrison by just 317 points.  If I had not gone to Primm, it would have been me in second place instead of Rick.  Mike announced that I had ridden 13,346 miles in the eleven days, a new rally record.  I am frequently asked how I accomplished that.  I really don’t have an answer other than my initial statement of being totally focused on a specific goal and having visualized riding a hard rally.  I have a map highlighted with the routes I rode.  If someone had shown me this map before the rally and told me that I would ride 13,346 miles during this eleven-day event, I would have said they were nuts.  I find it hard to believe myself, and I was the one that did it!

 

The ride home to Colorado was very quiet and sedate.  I searched my soul for why I wasn’t the happiest person on earth.  I could only conclude that, after two years of being totally focused on one thing, one outcome, I no longer had a mission.  I was anxious to get home to my family, but I wasn’t driven by an internal force as I had been for so long.  Upon arriving home I learned of the passing of my friend Fran Crane due to an accidentally administered medication while in the hospital in Salt Lake City.  It came as a great shock and heightened my depression.  It took a few weeks after getting home to begin to feel “normal” again.  It seems odd, but one thing that lifted my spirits was thinking about the 2001 Iron Butt Rally.