Having read about the 48 state ride in less then 10 days a few years back, I always felt this was something I wanted to try. I just couldn't get the idea out of my mind. After subconsciously leaving a time frame open for several years in early September, (which I thought would be the perfect time and weather for such a trip), I finally told my wife the time had come. It was now or never. This was the year I would make the attempt. I had mentioned this trip to my friends over the years, and most of them thought it was just talk or that I was crazy. I was 70 years old and the time for excuses was over.
Many long nights were spent devising my route and loading and reloading the plan into my 2011 Harley Ultra Glide CVO's GPS until I had it just right. I had filled up countless wastebaskets with reworked plans and routes. I wanted to eliminate as many unknowns as possible. All my fuel stops (About 180 miles apart to match my bikes fuel capacity), were planned off of Google earth so I always had a good access off the interstate from the right. My plan was to start in Harmony, Mn. where I would get the clock ticking. Harmony was the closest town on the southern boarder of Minnesota, about 140 miles from my home in Mankato, Minnesota. I would finish in Chadron, Nebraska as the 48th state.
When I told a few of my so-called friends that I was going to finally do this ride, their encouragement was fabulous. It went something like this. My brother in-law, Tom said, “Tell Suzan (my wife) not to worry, I'll go where ever and pick up the pieces." Another said, "Just have Suzan tell me where to send the coffin, It's a young man's sport." After the 3rd one said " It seems like a great idea and would be something if you could make it", but he doubted it was possible at my age. After that, I kept it to myself and never said much to anyone else. They were all real confidence builders. Even when I made the east coast, (since I took off to the east first), my kids were telling me, "You know dad, you don't have to prove anything. Its alright if you head back and do the rest another time." My response was always same, that it was something "I had to do". I was the only person I needed to prove it to. I had to do it. My wife kept giving me subtle hints, like she would never see me again.
On Friday, Sept. 10th, 2021 at 4:30 AM, I left home. As I was turning onto the ramp to head east out of town, I wondered, " Are you sure you want to do this"? Remembering all the encouragement I received from people, I told myself, " If you get to Harmony, and it doesn't feel right, you can always turn back".
Once in Harmony, I got my the first of 72 fuel receipt's showing the state, date and time as well as a picture of all this next to the motorcycle odometer. I went inside and secured a witness signature from the gal behind the counter after explaining to her what I was doing. These were all requirements to have the ride sanctioned and recognized by the Iron Butt Association. They had a very rigid set of rules that needed to be followed. I left Harmony around 7:00 AM and was on my way. My plan was to head east first and hopefully hit the coast on the weekend with a little less traffic. The first miles went really well. I stayed on the interstate when ever possible to make good time. The interstates, being built quite a few years ago, are pretty much lined with trees so sight-seeing going east was at a minimum. I made it to Erie, Pennsylvania at 9 PM and including the miles from Mankato to Harmony, I had put on 921 miles that first day.
The next night at 10:30 PM found me in New London, Connecticut. I had clocked only 795 miles. To get to Maine, I needed get off the interstate and cut through Vermont and New Hampshire. Though they were both beautiful states, some roads were really winding and it took lots of extra time. It was very scenic, and oh how I would have liked to stop longer in Kittery, Maine, but now was not the time.
I took stock of the situation, and with some figuring, decided I needed to do a little more night riding to reach my goal. I'm not too keen on riding motorcycles at night, but to get enough miles on per day to accomplish this ride in under 10 days, I figured it was going to be necessary. I would just slow down at night and try not to out run the headlights. I could still hear my wife saying, "Don’t drive faster then your angel can fly."
Every night whenever I woke up, no matter the time or reason, I packed up and out I went. It was time to ride. I never changed the time zone on my watch in a futile attempt to stay consistent. This day, it was time to hit the Jersey Turnpike. This was my lingering nightmare, as I heard so many stories about the traffic, potholes and overall road conditions out there. I purchased a transmitter for the tollbooths before I left Minnesota and velcro'ed it to my dash so that it would help me breeze through most of them. I also had a cheat sheet with the states and towns in the order of where I needed to stop to pick up fuel in a see through magnetic pouch. It was attached to my fuel tank. I had a small clipboard that would hold my receipts next to the odometer for a picture at each stop. (I had Velcro on my tank, odometer and clipboard that made it hands free.)
I woke up at 3:30 AM according to my watch and was ready to ride; not realizing it was 2:30 AM on the east coast. The Jersey Turnpike was a piece of cake at that time in the morning and it also helped being a Sunday. In fact, I thought I was in Newark, New Jersey forever when in fact I had gone through New York City in the early morning hours.
I called my son when I was going through Maryland as he works for a congressman at the US Capitol. He was only 40 miles away, so I called to say hi and asked him if New York came after Baltimore. I had gone through NY City and had not even realized it. My thoughts were that it was all down hill from here! Luckily I had a receipt from upstate NY after I passed through Pennsylvania.
The turnpike brought out my old motorcycle riding moxie as everyone was running 85 MPH plus and I got back in the habit of moving a little faster too. I thought I was moving pretty fast when all of a sudden this crotch rocket goes screaming by me. He must have been doing 120 miles an hour as he weaved in and out of the traffic up ahead. I was sure he had a death wish. Two or three times on my trip this happened. Each time it seemed like up the highway ten or fifteen miles later, I would catch up to them. My guess was they just did it to impress that bike rider up ahead. One time this happened in Virginia. I saw the bike puling on to the highway from the left. Of course, in a little bit, it went screaming by me. There was some road construction up ahead, so I caught up and pulled in behind him. I saw some pink on his leather jacket, then the long hair and realized it was a she. I went a little faster too, after that, I think.
On a long trip like this, you are bound to have a few close calls. It seemed for me, they all happened in the two Virginia’s. Twice, when I pulled back into the right lane from the left lane, I caught myself just in time as a vehicle was coming up on my right. I think they must drive different out there, because I swear I had looked over my shoulder and into the rearview mirror before I started moving over. The second time, this ladies mirror just about clipped my hand on the throttle. Another time I came within inches of running off the highway onto the shoulder. Things could have gone south pretty fast, as the shoulder looked like it had just been fluffed up with fine particles of shale. I don’t think the traction would have been very good for a bike going 75 or 80 MPH. I did a little balancing act on those few inches for a couple seconds to get back in the center of the lane. I made the promise to never let my wandering attention or scenery gawking take my mind off of the road again. I had kept my brother in-law at bay for now.
I stopped for the night at 10:30 in Kingsport, Tennessee (895 miles for the day). Some backcountry ridding again to pick up some states took extra time. I remember old coalmines in Kentucky and stately Mansions in Tennessee. Out east there seemed to be ten times as many big trucks on the roads then I ever remembered. At night when I would slow down, they would constantly be roaring by. I got to thinking truckers must be like vampires, always running at night. When people asked me about the scenery up to that point, I told them I must have seen a thousand UPS and FedEx trucks.
The next morning I left at 4 AM and hit six more states (NC, SC, GA, FL, AL, MS.), 761 miles more, and ended in New Augusta, Mississippi. In Alabama, I had run through the edge of a rainstorm and was just about to put on my rain gear, when the rain let up. My route had me skirting to the backside of the storm. I had caught back up to the rain as I headed north towards Missouri and Kansas, so I stopped in New Augusta at 8:30 PM rather then tempt ridding at night in the rain. I also needed to fix the handlebar phone holder that had vibrated loose. (Which turned out to be a pain the whole trip.) I fixed my problem for now and since there was a Dairy Queen next to the hotel, I went over and brought back a nice quick meal before bed.
I noticed my brother in-law Tom had left me a message, so I called him. We had gone through school together but he was three months younger and one grade behind me. He had said he just wondered how my progress was going, and I filled him in. He stated that he and his five brothers and the people at work had a pool going, betting on whether I would finish or not, but "OH OF COURSE, I WAS BETTING ON YOU!” (So he said) He asked if I would like him and his wife to pick up Suzan and meet me in Chadron, Nebraska, the finish line to celebrate. I told him Suzan already had plans to go to Wisconsin with my sister's so that it wouldn't work out, but it was sure a nice gesture and thanked him for the thought.
I called my wife about 10:30 PM. She told me there was a hurricane in the gulf heading my way. There had been a big one through that area two weeks before, (Hurricane Ida) and I had planned on going through lower Louisiana. I changed my route because there were claims of shortages of fuel and electricity in that area. I figured I better check the weather radar on my phone, just as I was crawling into bed. This new hurricane was rotating only a few miles away from my door steep. It was heading in my direction. So at 10:30 PM, I push the skinny stray cat away from my hotel door outside (He was trying to get into my room when I got there, and it didn't help that I fed him some of my left over hamburger), and headed to Northern Louisiana to beat the storm. It sprinkled off and on, but had quit by the time I got to Tallulah, Louisiana at 1:30 AM. This was the only time I could not get a gas pump to print out a receipt. A message came up on the pump and told me to see the proprietor inside. Well at 1:30 AM that person was long gone. I remembered an ATM machine that I had passed on my way for fuel next to the bank in the town. I rode back to the bank to try and print a good receipt with the necessary state, town and time. It took five tries, and as the sprinkles started up again, it finally printed me out a receipt when I only asked the machine for 20 dollars.
The going this night seemed exceedingly slow. I seemed all alone on a deserted highway. It was so dark and the occasional light sprinkle made it even darker. As I was leaving Tallulah, the sprinkles got a little heavier. Man, I couldn't believe that the hurricane would be moving that fast. At a stop sign, at the edge of town, I pulled up behind a Tyson Foods truck that was heading in the same direction. I took solace in his company by staying behind him for many miles and made better time following his taillights. In that dark night we finally shook the hurricane.
I kept going north and finally stopped in Pine Bluff, Arkansas at 5 AM, sure I had left the hurricane behind me. It was 1092 miles from my stay in Tennessee. I felt terrible when I awoke at 9 AM because daylight was wasted. (The best time to make miles) I hit the road again, and made Baxter Springs, Kansas just before 3 PM. This was the point where I had told myself before I started the ride, that since it was only 400 miles from home, it would be decision time. I was now about half way and could quit and head home from there to finish the ride the following year. The decision wasn't even close.
I road into Amarillo, Texas that night at 11 PM. It was surreal coming over the hill into town with hundreds of red lights at the top of the wind generators lighting up the whole sky. They had an alien look to them as they flashed in unison. I had another 887 miles under my belt. Now, there was lot more scenery in the open terrain of the west. I had gotten the hardest part of the ride behind me, but the miles seemed to stretch out much longer. I told my phone to wake me up at 6:30 AM. I was upset when I woke up and realized the direction of travel was now against me and that it was actually 7:30 in Minnesota. Another lost hour of daylight. It was as if I was fighting time the whole trip.
I went 1225 miles that next day stopping at a wayside rest somewhere in the middle of Nevada at 4 AM. I had taken a sleeping bag and pad along and slept under a canopy that was over a picnic table. Knowing the times that we live in, I tied my belongings to my belt in case someone would try to run off with something as I slept.
That day I had seen some of the most beautiful scenery of the trip. I remember wild horses in New Mexico running all out in stifling heat seemingly just for exercise, with little effort. One looked like a majestic Black Arabian as it ran with its mane and tail flowing in the wind. I wish I would have stopped and took a picture. The rock formations in Colorado and Arizona were awesome. I saw tourists a half mile away at the four corners monument as I rode by. Stopping to see the attraction was out of the question this day. I would hit all four states anyway on my route.
It seemed going through New Mexico and Arizona there were always signs to be careful of animals on the road. Most were for deer. Just when you thought the last sign saying “Deer Next 20 Miles" was about to expire another one would pop up. In those two states about every imaginable creature showed up on them signs. First it was deer, then cattle, then elk, then moose, then wild horses, then mules, then sheep, then SHEEP DOGS?? Finally one just said, "Watch For Wild Animals"! I was starting to expect an elephant. Going out of Flagstaff, Arizona, there was a “Major Deer Crossing" sign, whatever that meant. Other then Montana, I never did have an animal cross my path. When you're on a bike, everything can be a moving torpedo, so you have to always be on your toes.
I had purchased a heated jacket liner a week before I left home. I did a lot of researching about other riders that went on long rides and some said it was a life savior. I installed the wiring to my bike's battery before leaving. I almost put the liner on when going through Flagstaff, Arizona at dusk. It was getting a little chilly. I passed a dead cow elk on the side of the road as I started going down the long hill outside of Flagstaff. The hill stretched on for miles. The dead cow was on my mind as I wondered how the bike and I would fare running one over. As I headed down hill towards Needles, California, the jacket wasn't necessary. My plan was to go through Needles at night, as daytime temperatures had been pushing 117 degrees in that area the previous week. It just kept getting warmer and warmer. By the time I hit Needles at 11 PM it was very warm. Having caught California, I again turned north and headed towards cooler temperatures. The only treat to myself on the trip was a ride through the Las Vegas Strip at 12:30 AM on my motorcycle as it was only 8 blocks off my route.
I woke up at 7 AM after 3 hrs of sleep next to the picnic table the next morning and was upset that I had again missed some daylight. I was surprise at how well I had slept. I made it to Kennewick, Washington that night at 10 PM after another 881 miles. I have been to Montana many times hunting and thought Oregon had some of the same features.
The next morning in Kennewick, I awoke at 5 AM not realizing that other then a 30-minute nap in Montana and one in a ditch somewhere in South Dakota, I would make it to Chadron, Nebraska the following day at 10 AM.
When I turned the corner at Spokane, Washington to head east, my thoughts and emotions were catching up with the fact that I might just be able to do this. On a long ride like this you have lots of time to think. There was a spot somewhere between Spokane, Washington and Idaho that was every bikers dream. The road was recently repaved and smooth as glass. It was a perfectly straight road for miles. The road was lined with towering red pines on both sides and it looked like the deer came out at night to manicure the grass under the trees. I had lost a daughter years ago, 10 days after her high school graduation in a car accident. It was during this moment, knowing the end was in sight and being in such a beautiful place that I thought of her. I have a sister in-law, who when she heard about my trip, said it gave her great trepidation but that God would be with me. I don't know if God was riding with me at that moment, but I sure felt Becky's presence like never before. Had a motorist gone by at that moment and glanced over at that motorcycle from Minnesota, they might just have seen a grown man crying.
Montana is a very big state to cross, and somewhere I remember pulling into a beautiful roadside rest with mountains on both sides and wild daffodils growing all over the landscape. I pulled off to the back corner of the lot and lay among the flowers and took a 30-minute nap.
Refreshed and back on the road again, I was about 50 miles from Billing, Montana, when I noticed my shifting lever was getting lower to my shoe. My thought was the allen screw holding it to the shaft was coming loose and I sure didn't want to lose it on the highway. I pulled off the interstate at a filling station in Big Timber. It was worse then that, the splines on the shaft were striping out. Of course it was Friday evening about 6 PM and everything would be closed. I tried calling the Billings Harley Davidson Dealer and no answer. I could barely get the shifter to catch, but somehow managed to get the bike into 5th gear. It wouldn't go into 6th gear, but I could do 60 mph and figured I would go until I couldn't. I would then come up with plan B. As I was going through Billings, I saw the Harley Davidson Dealership sign up ahead to my right. I looked into the lot as I rode by and it was full of bikes, cars, and people. I got off the interstate, made a u turn on a side road and pulled into the lot. Of all things, I find out they are having their annual employee appreciation night going on in conjunction with a local area Hog Rally. Someone pointed me in the direction of the group that owned and operated the dealership. After telling them my story, the parts manager, Jon, came over and confirmed that yes the shifter shaft is probably striped but that everything was closed up and locked down inside. If I came back in the morning at 9 AM they would take care of me if they had the part. After asking him a few more times if it was at all possible to try to fix it yet that night, I kept getting the same response. I told him I was going to try to get as far as I could after I put on some warmer clothing from my bike. I told him I would try to be back first thing in the morning, right at 9 AM if I didn't get very far. I just didn't know yet if I could limp it along by manually shifting it. I had my doubts, but I was willing to give it a try. He went back to his group and I proceeded to get out my heated jacket liner, a warmer coat and gloves for the night ride. Just as I was ready to head out, Jon came back over and says, "PULL IT IN THE SHOP, your lucky, all my mechanics are here tonight". Forty-five minutes later, after thanking Jon and his crew profusely many times, I was back on the highway. I owe Jon and the crew at the Harley Davidson Dealership in Billings, Montana, a heap of gratitude.
I got to Miles City, Montana around 11 PM and tried to find a room at 3 different hotels. There was a tournament going on in town and everything was full. Full of adrenaline myself at having lucked out on the shifter, I decided to keep going. After all, it was fate, right? The going was slow, as I had to cut down my speed considerably. I needed to go cross-country to hit North Dakota and Wyoming. After turning off the interstate, I didn't go 5 miles and mule deer were all over the road. At the slower speed, the night seemed to go on forever. My heated jacket was a godsend as the night was very cool and I could have never gone on without it. The heat came up my jacket and into my helmet keeping me very comfortable. Somewhere in South Dakota, in the middle of nowhere, I just had to stop to rest for a while. I looked for a large apron or parking spot along the highway for a few miles and finding none, I parked my bike on a desolate road shoulder and laid down in the ditch for a nap. It's amazing how nice you can sleep with your helmet on as a pillow in a road ditch. My bike was on the shoulder, leaning towards the ditch. I pulled on it a little and it seemed ok even though it leaned a little more then I'd have liked. Like a dummy, I lie down and take my nap right below it on the ditch bank. After about 30 minutes a loud noise wakes me up. Snoring in your helmet can sound pretty loud. I figured just a little more sleep and I can make the finish line. Just as I'm about to doze off again, I hear a semi truck in the distance coming ever closer. It gets so loud in the quietness of the night that I swore it was going to hit my bike and send it soaring 100 yards. I came too and half raised up to crazily wave him off as he went barreling by. If he saw me, I must have looked like a zombie flailing about. After waking up a little more, I realize the vibration and wind from the semi could have tipped the bike over right on top of me. This thought woke me up completely. I got back on the road.
I rolled into Beulah, Wyoming around 7 AM. From there I rode through more of South Dakota, passing by Sturgis and Mount Rushmore to the Nebraska border. I took a picture of my bike with the Nebraska welcoming sign in the background. In this area of the country, towns are a lot farther apart and after what seemed like way more miles then it was, I finally made it to my finish line, Chadron, Nebraska. I get my final fuel receipt and the required two witness signatures.
I had ridden a total of 7,855 miles. Since Kennewick, I had put on 1308 miles to finish. I still had over 500 miles to go to make it back to Minnesota, but I had made my goal of all 48 states in 8 days and 3 hrs. Had I not gotten lost four times or hit the backup of vehicles I was stuck in on the interstate in Northern Arkansas because of a tragic accident 20 miles up the road, I could have made the ride in under 8 days. (As I sat there in the traffic, that hamburger I fed the cat sounded pretty good)
I thought the leisurely ride back to Minnesota would be a breeze. It was a breeze all right. The ride back to Minnesota was the hardest of the trip. I went cross country through Nebraska up to Murdo, South Dakota, and checked into a hotel at 4: PM. The wind and heat had worn me out. After a shower, I went to a local restaurant and celebrated with a couple drinks and a big steak. Going cross-country in Nebraska, and South Dakota is a challenge in any right, but when there's 40-mile winds and it's 95 degrees out it was brutal. The next day, from Murdo to home the winds were even stronger. You couldn't go around a semi because of wind shear and when one passed you, the wind shear tried to throw you towards the ditch. Had the first few days been like that, I question that I would have continued on.
One thing I did about a week before I left home was sign Suzan and myself up for an app called Life 360 on our phones. The app tracks your phone in real time so my wife could see me as a little blue dot going down the highway and she also knew when I had stopped at a hotel. It was only about $5.00 per month per phone. She could zoom into the goggle earth app it used and actually see the blue dot going down the highway and zoom in and see the same scenery and road I was going down. You could also print out the exact route I took when I got home and it had all the time stamps on each leg of the trip. I would highly recommend it on a trip such as this.
Many times on my ride I had a craving for some Kentucky Fried Chicken. On this ride unless it was right on my path, it was out of the question. Most meals were on the run out of a filling station. When I stopped early in Tennessee for the night, there was one on my right just before my hotel. I pulled up to the drive threw, but as they were closing for the night they only had chicken tenders left. I said no thanks and went to the hotel. When I left the interstate for the last time to head the final 60 miles back to Mankato, I took the off ramp two miles too soon by mistake. What do you imagine was on the right, at the bottom of the ramp, a KFC! Of course I cruised right in. I had a chuckle as I sat there eating the chicken when I looked at the wall. A sign with a big bucket of chicken said, "What’s On Your Bucket List?”
When I came back into Mankato from the west and approached the off ramp, I had tears in my eyes realizing I had just gone east from here less then ten days ago. In between turns, I had covered all 48 states. I had perfect weather on the ride with partly cloudy to sunny sky's everywhere except for the little rain in Alabama and the sprinkles north to Arkansas. The monkey was off my back; I had completed my goal with time to spare. I felt sane again. Life was good to me.
I bundled up all my information and documentation and sent it off to the Iron Butt Association on October 13th. 2021, for certification. I received conformation that it hit their mailbox a few days later. Everything was put on a scan disk drive. At this time, March 14, 2022, I have not received word from them and I understand this can be normal as it's an all-volunteer organization. Hopefully soon, I will receive conformation on " THE RIDE THAT I JUST HAD TO DO!"
In a sad note, my brother in-law Tom, showing no signs of illness, hit his finish line, as he died in his sleep less then a month after my return home.
Many long nights were spent devising my route and loading and reloading the plan into my 2011 Harley Ultra Glide CVO's GPS until I had it just right. I had filled up countless wastebaskets with reworked plans and routes. I wanted to eliminate as many unknowns as possible. All my fuel stops (About 180 miles apart to match my bikes fuel capacity), were planned off of Google earth so I always had a good access off the interstate from the right. My plan was to start in Harmony, Mn. where I would get the clock ticking. Harmony was the closest town on the southern boarder of Minnesota, about 140 miles from my home in Mankato, Minnesota. I would finish in Chadron, Nebraska as the 48th state.
When I told a few of my so-called friends that I was going to finally do this ride, their encouragement was fabulous. It went something like this. My brother in-law, Tom said, “Tell Suzan (my wife) not to worry, I'll go where ever and pick up the pieces." Another said, "Just have Suzan tell me where to send the coffin, It's a young man's sport." After the 3rd one said " It seems like a great idea and would be something if you could make it", but he doubted it was possible at my age. After that, I kept it to myself and never said much to anyone else. They were all real confidence builders. Even when I made the east coast, (since I took off to the east first), my kids were telling me, "You know dad, you don't have to prove anything. Its alright if you head back and do the rest another time." My response was always same, that it was something "I had to do". I was the only person I needed to prove it to. I had to do it. My wife kept giving me subtle hints, like she would never see me again.
On Friday, Sept. 10th, 2021 at 4:30 AM, I left home. As I was turning onto the ramp to head east out of town, I wondered, " Are you sure you want to do this"? Remembering all the encouragement I received from people, I told myself, " If you get to Harmony, and it doesn't feel right, you can always turn back".
Once in Harmony, I got my the first of 72 fuel receipt's showing the state, date and time as well as a picture of all this next to the motorcycle odometer. I went inside and secured a witness signature from the gal behind the counter after explaining to her what I was doing. These were all requirements to have the ride sanctioned and recognized by the Iron Butt Association. They had a very rigid set of rules that needed to be followed. I left Harmony around 7:00 AM and was on my way. My plan was to head east first and hopefully hit the coast on the weekend with a little less traffic. The first miles went really well. I stayed on the interstate when ever possible to make good time. The interstates, being built quite a few years ago, are pretty much lined with trees so sight-seeing going east was at a minimum. I made it to Erie, Pennsylvania at 9 PM and including the miles from Mankato to Harmony, I had put on 921 miles that first day.
The next night at 10:30 PM found me in New London, Connecticut. I had clocked only 795 miles. To get to Maine, I needed get off the interstate and cut through Vermont and New Hampshire. Though they were both beautiful states, some roads were really winding and it took lots of extra time. It was very scenic, and oh how I would have liked to stop longer in Kittery, Maine, but now was not the time.
I took stock of the situation, and with some figuring, decided I needed to do a little more night riding to reach my goal. I'm not too keen on riding motorcycles at night, but to get enough miles on per day to accomplish this ride in under 10 days, I figured it was going to be necessary. I would just slow down at night and try not to out run the headlights. I could still hear my wife saying, "Don’t drive faster then your angel can fly."
Every night whenever I woke up, no matter the time or reason, I packed up and out I went. It was time to ride. I never changed the time zone on my watch in a futile attempt to stay consistent. This day, it was time to hit the Jersey Turnpike. This was my lingering nightmare, as I heard so many stories about the traffic, potholes and overall road conditions out there. I purchased a transmitter for the tollbooths before I left Minnesota and velcro'ed it to my dash so that it would help me breeze through most of them. I also had a cheat sheet with the states and towns in the order of where I needed to stop to pick up fuel in a see through magnetic pouch. It was attached to my fuel tank. I had a small clipboard that would hold my receipts next to the odometer for a picture at each stop. (I had Velcro on my tank, odometer and clipboard that made it hands free.)
I woke up at 3:30 AM according to my watch and was ready to ride; not realizing it was 2:30 AM on the east coast. The Jersey Turnpike was a piece of cake at that time in the morning and it also helped being a Sunday. In fact, I thought I was in Newark, New Jersey forever when in fact I had gone through New York City in the early morning hours.
I called my son when I was going through Maryland as he works for a congressman at the US Capitol. He was only 40 miles away, so I called to say hi and asked him if New York came after Baltimore. I had gone through NY City and had not even realized it. My thoughts were that it was all down hill from here! Luckily I had a receipt from upstate NY after I passed through Pennsylvania.
The turnpike brought out my old motorcycle riding moxie as everyone was running 85 MPH plus and I got back in the habit of moving a little faster too. I thought I was moving pretty fast when all of a sudden this crotch rocket goes screaming by me. He must have been doing 120 miles an hour as he weaved in and out of the traffic up ahead. I was sure he had a death wish. Two or three times on my trip this happened. Each time it seemed like up the highway ten or fifteen miles later, I would catch up to them. My guess was they just did it to impress that bike rider up ahead. One time this happened in Virginia. I saw the bike puling on to the highway from the left. Of course, in a little bit, it went screaming by me. There was some road construction up ahead, so I caught up and pulled in behind him. I saw some pink on his leather jacket, then the long hair and realized it was a she. I went a little faster too, after that, I think.
On a long trip like this, you are bound to have a few close calls. It seemed for me, they all happened in the two Virginia’s. Twice, when I pulled back into the right lane from the left lane, I caught myself just in time as a vehicle was coming up on my right. I think they must drive different out there, because I swear I had looked over my shoulder and into the rearview mirror before I started moving over. The second time, this ladies mirror just about clipped my hand on the throttle. Another time I came within inches of running off the highway onto the shoulder. Things could have gone south pretty fast, as the shoulder looked like it had just been fluffed up with fine particles of shale. I don’t think the traction would have been very good for a bike going 75 or 80 MPH. I did a little balancing act on those few inches for a couple seconds to get back in the center of the lane. I made the promise to never let my wandering attention or scenery gawking take my mind off of the road again. I had kept my brother in-law at bay for now.
I stopped for the night at 10:30 in Kingsport, Tennessee (895 miles for the day). Some backcountry ridding again to pick up some states took extra time. I remember old coalmines in Kentucky and stately Mansions in Tennessee. Out east there seemed to be ten times as many big trucks on the roads then I ever remembered. At night when I would slow down, they would constantly be roaring by. I got to thinking truckers must be like vampires, always running at night. When people asked me about the scenery up to that point, I told them I must have seen a thousand UPS and FedEx trucks.
The next morning I left at 4 AM and hit six more states (NC, SC, GA, FL, AL, MS.), 761 miles more, and ended in New Augusta, Mississippi. In Alabama, I had run through the edge of a rainstorm and was just about to put on my rain gear, when the rain let up. My route had me skirting to the backside of the storm. I had caught back up to the rain as I headed north towards Missouri and Kansas, so I stopped in New Augusta at 8:30 PM rather then tempt ridding at night in the rain. I also needed to fix the handlebar phone holder that had vibrated loose. (Which turned out to be a pain the whole trip.) I fixed my problem for now and since there was a Dairy Queen next to the hotel, I went over and brought back a nice quick meal before bed.
I noticed my brother in-law Tom had left me a message, so I called him. We had gone through school together but he was three months younger and one grade behind me. He had said he just wondered how my progress was going, and I filled him in. He stated that he and his five brothers and the people at work had a pool going, betting on whether I would finish or not, but "OH OF COURSE, I WAS BETTING ON YOU!” (So he said) He asked if I would like him and his wife to pick up Suzan and meet me in Chadron, Nebraska, the finish line to celebrate. I told him Suzan already had plans to go to Wisconsin with my sister's so that it wouldn't work out, but it was sure a nice gesture and thanked him for the thought.
I called my wife about 10:30 PM. She told me there was a hurricane in the gulf heading my way. There had been a big one through that area two weeks before, (Hurricane Ida) and I had planned on going through lower Louisiana. I changed my route because there were claims of shortages of fuel and electricity in that area. I figured I better check the weather radar on my phone, just as I was crawling into bed. This new hurricane was rotating only a few miles away from my door steep. It was heading in my direction. So at 10:30 PM, I push the skinny stray cat away from my hotel door outside (He was trying to get into my room when I got there, and it didn't help that I fed him some of my left over hamburger), and headed to Northern Louisiana to beat the storm. It sprinkled off and on, but had quit by the time I got to Tallulah, Louisiana at 1:30 AM. This was the only time I could not get a gas pump to print out a receipt. A message came up on the pump and told me to see the proprietor inside. Well at 1:30 AM that person was long gone. I remembered an ATM machine that I had passed on my way for fuel next to the bank in the town. I rode back to the bank to try and print a good receipt with the necessary state, town and time. It took five tries, and as the sprinkles started up again, it finally printed me out a receipt when I only asked the machine for 20 dollars.
The going this night seemed exceedingly slow. I seemed all alone on a deserted highway. It was so dark and the occasional light sprinkle made it even darker. As I was leaving Tallulah, the sprinkles got a little heavier. Man, I couldn't believe that the hurricane would be moving that fast. At a stop sign, at the edge of town, I pulled up behind a Tyson Foods truck that was heading in the same direction. I took solace in his company by staying behind him for many miles and made better time following his taillights. In that dark night we finally shook the hurricane.
I kept going north and finally stopped in Pine Bluff, Arkansas at 5 AM, sure I had left the hurricane behind me. It was 1092 miles from my stay in Tennessee. I felt terrible when I awoke at 9 AM because daylight was wasted. (The best time to make miles) I hit the road again, and made Baxter Springs, Kansas just before 3 PM. This was the point where I had told myself before I started the ride, that since it was only 400 miles from home, it would be decision time. I was now about half way and could quit and head home from there to finish the ride the following year. The decision wasn't even close.
I road into Amarillo, Texas that night at 11 PM. It was surreal coming over the hill into town with hundreds of red lights at the top of the wind generators lighting up the whole sky. They had an alien look to them as they flashed in unison. I had another 887 miles under my belt. Now, there was lot more scenery in the open terrain of the west. I had gotten the hardest part of the ride behind me, but the miles seemed to stretch out much longer. I told my phone to wake me up at 6:30 AM. I was upset when I woke up and realized the direction of travel was now against me and that it was actually 7:30 in Minnesota. Another lost hour of daylight. It was as if I was fighting time the whole trip.
I went 1225 miles that next day stopping at a wayside rest somewhere in the middle of Nevada at 4 AM. I had taken a sleeping bag and pad along and slept under a canopy that was over a picnic table. Knowing the times that we live in, I tied my belongings to my belt in case someone would try to run off with something as I slept.
That day I had seen some of the most beautiful scenery of the trip. I remember wild horses in New Mexico running all out in stifling heat seemingly just for exercise, with little effort. One looked like a majestic Black Arabian as it ran with its mane and tail flowing in the wind. I wish I would have stopped and took a picture. The rock formations in Colorado and Arizona were awesome. I saw tourists a half mile away at the four corners monument as I rode by. Stopping to see the attraction was out of the question this day. I would hit all four states anyway on my route.
It seemed going through New Mexico and Arizona there were always signs to be careful of animals on the road. Most were for deer. Just when you thought the last sign saying “Deer Next 20 Miles" was about to expire another one would pop up. In those two states about every imaginable creature showed up on them signs. First it was deer, then cattle, then elk, then moose, then wild horses, then mules, then sheep, then SHEEP DOGS?? Finally one just said, "Watch For Wild Animals"! I was starting to expect an elephant. Going out of Flagstaff, Arizona, there was a “Major Deer Crossing" sign, whatever that meant. Other then Montana, I never did have an animal cross my path. When you're on a bike, everything can be a moving torpedo, so you have to always be on your toes.
I had purchased a heated jacket liner a week before I left home. I did a lot of researching about other riders that went on long rides and some said it was a life savior. I installed the wiring to my bike's battery before leaving. I almost put the liner on when going through Flagstaff, Arizona at dusk. It was getting a little chilly. I passed a dead cow elk on the side of the road as I started going down the long hill outside of Flagstaff. The hill stretched on for miles. The dead cow was on my mind as I wondered how the bike and I would fare running one over. As I headed down hill towards Needles, California, the jacket wasn't necessary. My plan was to go through Needles at night, as daytime temperatures had been pushing 117 degrees in that area the previous week. It just kept getting warmer and warmer. By the time I hit Needles at 11 PM it was very warm. Having caught California, I again turned north and headed towards cooler temperatures. The only treat to myself on the trip was a ride through the Las Vegas Strip at 12:30 AM on my motorcycle as it was only 8 blocks off my route.
I woke up at 7 AM after 3 hrs of sleep next to the picnic table the next morning and was upset that I had again missed some daylight. I was surprise at how well I had slept. I made it to Kennewick, Washington that night at 10 PM after another 881 miles. I have been to Montana many times hunting and thought Oregon had some of the same features.
The next morning in Kennewick, I awoke at 5 AM not realizing that other then a 30-minute nap in Montana and one in a ditch somewhere in South Dakota, I would make it to Chadron, Nebraska the following day at 10 AM.
When I turned the corner at Spokane, Washington to head east, my thoughts and emotions were catching up with the fact that I might just be able to do this. On a long ride like this you have lots of time to think. There was a spot somewhere between Spokane, Washington and Idaho that was every bikers dream. The road was recently repaved and smooth as glass. It was a perfectly straight road for miles. The road was lined with towering red pines on both sides and it looked like the deer came out at night to manicure the grass under the trees. I had lost a daughter years ago, 10 days after her high school graduation in a car accident. It was during this moment, knowing the end was in sight and being in such a beautiful place that I thought of her. I have a sister in-law, who when she heard about my trip, said it gave her great trepidation but that God would be with me. I don't know if God was riding with me at that moment, but I sure felt Becky's presence like never before. Had a motorist gone by at that moment and glanced over at that motorcycle from Minnesota, they might just have seen a grown man crying.
Montana is a very big state to cross, and somewhere I remember pulling into a beautiful roadside rest with mountains on both sides and wild daffodils growing all over the landscape. I pulled off to the back corner of the lot and lay among the flowers and took a 30-minute nap.
Refreshed and back on the road again, I was about 50 miles from Billing, Montana, when I noticed my shifting lever was getting lower to my shoe. My thought was the allen screw holding it to the shaft was coming loose and I sure didn't want to lose it on the highway. I pulled off the interstate at a filling station in Big Timber. It was worse then that, the splines on the shaft were striping out. Of course it was Friday evening about 6 PM and everything would be closed. I tried calling the Billings Harley Davidson Dealer and no answer. I could barely get the shifter to catch, but somehow managed to get the bike into 5th gear. It wouldn't go into 6th gear, but I could do 60 mph and figured I would go until I couldn't. I would then come up with plan B. As I was going through Billings, I saw the Harley Davidson Dealership sign up ahead to my right. I looked into the lot as I rode by and it was full of bikes, cars, and people. I got off the interstate, made a u turn on a side road and pulled into the lot. Of all things, I find out they are having their annual employee appreciation night going on in conjunction with a local area Hog Rally. Someone pointed me in the direction of the group that owned and operated the dealership. After telling them my story, the parts manager, Jon, came over and confirmed that yes the shifter shaft is probably striped but that everything was closed up and locked down inside. If I came back in the morning at 9 AM they would take care of me if they had the part. After asking him a few more times if it was at all possible to try to fix it yet that night, I kept getting the same response. I told him I was going to try to get as far as I could after I put on some warmer clothing from my bike. I told him I would try to be back first thing in the morning, right at 9 AM if I didn't get very far. I just didn't know yet if I could limp it along by manually shifting it. I had my doubts, but I was willing to give it a try. He went back to his group and I proceeded to get out my heated jacket liner, a warmer coat and gloves for the night ride. Just as I was ready to head out, Jon came back over and says, "PULL IT IN THE SHOP, your lucky, all my mechanics are here tonight". Forty-five minutes later, after thanking Jon and his crew profusely many times, I was back on the highway. I owe Jon and the crew at the Harley Davidson Dealership in Billings, Montana, a heap of gratitude.
I got to Miles City, Montana around 11 PM and tried to find a room at 3 different hotels. There was a tournament going on in town and everything was full. Full of adrenaline myself at having lucked out on the shifter, I decided to keep going. After all, it was fate, right? The going was slow, as I had to cut down my speed considerably. I needed to go cross-country to hit North Dakota and Wyoming. After turning off the interstate, I didn't go 5 miles and mule deer were all over the road. At the slower speed, the night seemed to go on forever. My heated jacket was a godsend as the night was very cool and I could have never gone on without it. The heat came up my jacket and into my helmet keeping me very comfortable. Somewhere in South Dakota, in the middle of nowhere, I just had to stop to rest for a while. I looked for a large apron or parking spot along the highway for a few miles and finding none, I parked my bike on a desolate road shoulder and laid down in the ditch for a nap. It's amazing how nice you can sleep with your helmet on as a pillow in a road ditch. My bike was on the shoulder, leaning towards the ditch. I pulled on it a little and it seemed ok even though it leaned a little more then I'd have liked. Like a dummy, I lie down and take my nap right below it on the ditch bank. After about 30 minutes a loud noise wakes me up. Snoring in your helmet can sound pretty loud. I figured just a little more sleep and I can make the finish line. Just as I'm about to doze off again, I hear a semi truck in the distance coming ever closer. It gets so loud in the quietness of the night that I swore it was going to hit my bike and send it soaring 100 yards. I came too and half raised up to crazily wave him off as he went barreling by. If he saw me, I must have looked like a zombie flailing about. After waking up a little more, I realize the vibration and wind from the semi could have tipped the bike over right on top of me. This thought woke me up completely. I got back on the road.
I rolled into Beulah, Wyoming around 7 AM. From there I rode through more of South Dakota, passing by Sturgis and Mount Rushmore to the Nebraska border. I took a picture of my bike with the Nebraska welcoming sign in the background. In this area of the country, towns are a lot farther apart and after what seemed like way more miles then it was, I finally made it to my finish line, Chadron, Nebraska. I get my final fuel receipt and the required two witness signatures.
I had ridden a total of 7,855 miles. Since Kennewick, I had put on 1308 miles to finish. I still had over 500 miles to go to make it back to Minnesota, but I had made my goal of all 48 states in 8 days and 3 hrs. Had I not gotten lost four times or hit the backup of vehicles I was stuck in on the interstate in Northern Arkansas because of a tragic accident 20 miles up the road, I could have made the ride in under 8 days. (As I sat there in the traffic, that hamburger I fed the cat sounded pretty good)
I thought the leisurely ride back to Minnesota would be a breeze. It was a breeze all right. The ride back to Minnesota was the hardest of the trip. I went cross country through Nebraska up to Murdo, South Dakota, and checked into a hotel at 4: PM. The wind and heat had worn me out. After a shower, I went to a local restaurant and celebrated with a couple drinks and a big steak. Going cross-country in Nebraska, and South Dakota is a challenge in any right, but when there's 40-mile winds and it's 95 degrees out it was brutal. The next day, from Murdo to home the winds were even stronger. You couldn't go around a semi because of wind shear and when one passed you, the wind shear tried to throw you towards the ditch. Had the first few days been like that, I question that I would have continued on.
One thing I did about a week before I left home was sign Suzan and myself up for an app called Life 360 on our phones. The app tracks your phone in real time so my wife could see me as a little blue dot going down the highway and she also knew when I had stopped at a hotel. It was only about $5.00 per month per phone. She could zoom into the goggle earth app it used and actually see the blue dot going down the highway and zoom in and see the same scenery and road I was going down. You could also print out the exact route I took when I got home and it had all the time stamps on each leg of the trip. I would highly recommend it on a trip such as this.
Many times on my ride I had a craving for some Kentucky Fried Chicken. On this ride unless it was right on my path, it was out of the question. Most meals were on the run out of a filling station. When I stopped early in Tennessee for the night, there was one on my right just before my hotel. I pulled up to the drive threw, but as they were closing for the night they only had chicken tenders left. I said no thanks and went to the hotel. When I left the interstate for the last time to head the final 60 miles back to Mankato, I took the off ramp two miles too soon by mistake. What do you imagine was on the right, at the bottom of the ramp, a KFC! Of course I cruised right in. I had a chuckle as I sat there eating the chicken when I looked at the wall. A sign with a big bucket of chicken said, "What’s On Your Bucket List?”
When I came back into Mankato from the west and approached the off ramp, I had tears in my eyes realizing I had just gone east from here less then ten days ago. In between turns, I had covered all 48 states. I had perfect weather on the ride with partly cloudy to sunny sky's everywhere except for the little rain in Alabama and the sprinkles north to Arkansas. The monkey was off my back; I had completed my goal with time to spare. I felt sane again. Life was good to me.
I bundled up all my information and documentation and sent it off to the Iron Butt Association on October 13th. 2021, for certification. I received conformation that it hit their mailbox a few days later. Everything was put on a scan disk drive. At this time, March 14, 2022, I have not received word from them and I understand this can be normal as it's an all-volunteer organization. Hopefully soon, I will receive conformation on " THE RIDE THAT I JUST HAD TO DO!"
In a sad note, my brother in-law Tom, showing no signs of illness, hit his finish line, as he died in his sleep less then a month after my return home.
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