My 50CC. I did it.

Garage Monster

Premier Member
IBA Member
I recently received word my 50CC has been certified and I am thrilled. I decided now is the time to do my ride report. I think many are like me and read these reports as part of the decision making and planning process so perhaps I can help or inspire someone.
First a little background information. I am 71 years old, have been riding motorcycles since I was 18 and I live in Southern Oregon. My first long distance ride was the 4 corners tour sponsored by the Southern California Motorcycle Association. In 2005 I rode a 2002 GL1800 Goldwing from San Ysidro, CA to Key West, FL to Madawaska, ME and then Blaine, WA in 14 days. The Goldwing was a great machine and I did several week long camping trips and loved the GL but it was too much like car.

In 2009 I bought a 2005 Hayabusa. With a Corbin seat, Helibars, bubble windscreen, slightly lowered pegs, and soft luggage, laterreplaced with hard bags, it became my tourer of choice. I soon discovered theIBA and did my first SS1000, 1000 documented miles in less than 24 hours. I washooked. Over the years I did several SS1000s and rode and camped most of theWestern states as far East as Colorado. For me the bike was incrediblycomfortable even though I was in my 60’s and 6 feet tall and 245 pounds.

With lots of planning and a thorough check of the Busa Iset out to ride a 50CC in April of 2015. I chose the traditional San Diego toJacksonville route. I rode down to San Diego in time for an early morningSaturday start. While riding the interstate southward through California Ideveloped a head shake of sorts. I had a slight vibration in the bars and if Ilet go of the bars at 70 they vibrated left and right about a half inch at theend of the bars. The bike tracked true but something was odd. I stopped at onepoint and checked everything I could think of. No play in the new headsetbearings, nothing odd about the new tire, no play in the forks, wheel weightsstill in place and I was stumped. I rode on and the oscillation was gone inanother 200 miles. It was strange to say the least. That Friday afternoon thelocal Sand Diego fire station was happy to provide a witness and I hit the sackearly. Very early in the morning I hit the highway pointed at Florida. As Iprogressed the oscillation came and went again. 1/3 of the way across Arizonaafter my second stop trying to find the fault I decided the better part ofvalor was to abandon my plans and I turned Northward for Oregon.

I tell you this only to make the point that this is justa ride and there is no guarantee of success for many reasons. In my case thebike made it home and after tearing apart the front wheel I found one sealedwheel bearing that had felt smooth as glass just 2 weeks earlier haddisintegrated. The cage was in pieces and there were only 4 balls left in thebearing. It seems that the other 5 or so balls had worked their way out of theraces and into the interior of the wheel which is a hollow, cast unit with openholes at the end of each spoke where the balls could escape. Such was the endof my plan.

In the fall of the same year I decided I needed a bikewith better fairing coverage as I seemed to get colder easier as I was gettingolder and Oregon is in the North. I sold the Busa and bought a 2000 BMW K1200LTwhich I now ride. This past winter I decided to attempt the 50CC again.SS1000‘s were just getting too easy.
Having ridden the San Diego to Florida route before, I planned for Santa Monica, CA to Tybee Island, GA in order to see new country. I did my route planning and planned gas stops. I reserved a room in a quaint 1950’s motor court style motel in Santa Monica and a motel in Tybee Island. I don’t believe in planning for the first night’s stop. I feel too much can happen in the first 1200 to 1500 miles. If I was delayed or overly tired I did not want the pressure of trying ride just another 200 miles to a reserved room.

I packed my bike lightly using just the side cases as I have removed the massive trunk in favor of a rack. I carried the basic BMW tool kit with some zip ties, a pair of vise grips and the shock preload adjusting tool that came with the Wilburs shocks. I left home Thursday, April 12 and took my time headed South. I arrived about noon on Friday the 13th (I hadn’t thought about that omen) and checked into my motel. I rode to the Santa Monica pier and walked down to the water’s edge to get my boots wet. I rode the famed carousel, had some lunch and took a short ride around the area and then hit my room to relax and watch some TV. I skipped dinner and went to bed by 6:00PM. My alarm was set so I could ride the few blocks to my starting gas station for a 3:00AM start. Well you can guess how that went. I couldn’t get to sleep until after 9:00PM and was wide awake shortly after 1:00AM. I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep so rather than wait more than an hour for the alarm to go off, I got up, showered again and hit the road.

I gassed up at the chosen Chevron and 3 blocks later was on the freeway headed East. Start time was 1:44AM, the temperature was about 62 degrees, and boy, was there a lot of traffic on the freeways in Los Angeles. At my age I have finally learned to dress warmly as being cold is painful and numbs my brain but being hot is just uncomfortable. It is a good thing. My first stop was 180 miles later in the high desert of Ludlow, CA and the temperature was in the high 40’s. I was wearing riding, under shorts with a chamois leather crotch insert and legs down to a few inches above my knees with blue jeans. I had a tee shirt with a full jacket liner electrically heated and my all weather Icon jacket over that. My seat is heated and so are the hand grips. I was fine.

My gas stops are pretty quick. I had bottled water in one of the side bags and I use a credit card with pay at the pump. I pull up to the pump park and dismount. Run the card and start the pump. I hold the nozzle to be sure of no spillage and I fill it to the brim. I get my receipt and I put it on a cut down clip board and add the mileage reading with a pen. I balance the clip board next to the odometer and take the picture of both. The receipt goes in a plastic bag and is placed way back in the glove box along with the pen and clip board. I quickly wash the windscreen with lemon pledge and a micro fiber towel I carry. If Mother Nature calls I make a quick stop, drink some fluids and then hit the road. It is not a race. 50 hours is plenty of time to make the ride, get a night’s sleep and finish in time even though my route is about 80 miles longer that the Southern route.

The routine continues on. I ride 5 to 10 mph over the posted limit but always the limit in speed zones and towns. The radio was removed from my bike shortly after I bought her as it was worthless and the result is a much larger glove box. I do have a fantastic pair
of ear buds that fit in the ears like a quality ear plugbut I didn’t use them until the first night. My second stop was Ash Fork, AZ,4:18AM and 429 miles done. It was then I began to wonder about the weather. Long range planning had me expecting 70 degree days and 50 degrees at night with a few dips into the high 40’s. It was still in the mid 40’s. My third stop had set the tone for the day. Gallup, NM was 660 miles and just after noon local time and it was not getting warmer. Temperature was still in the 40’s andthe wind was blowing.

The day was all about just riding a motorcycle. I sometimes need to stretch my legs out because of some soreness in my knees. Occasionally I stand on the pegs for a mile to stretch my butt muscles. I try to enjoy the scenery but as the hours pile up I find myself thinking more about riding. Motorcycles don’t allow the room for error that a car or pickup does. I try hard to pay attention to my riding. If I feel myself getting tired caffeine does nothing for me. I don’t drink coffee but I do drink soft drinks. The caffeine in those or when I have resorted to coffee does nothing to help keep me awake. What does work for me is 5 Hour Energy. I have never needed more than one in a day. Your mileage may vary.

I motor on down the road.
Albuquerque, NM, 802 miles
Santa Rosa, NM, 919 miles, Circle K and grab a quick energy bar as I am hungry and now off my plan.
Vega, TX, 1054 miles, 7:16PM local, strongwinds and temp is 42 degrees.
Shamrock, TX 1180 miles, 9:10PM local, 7:10PM my time, 38 degrees, winds are stronger. I see my first grass fire as I leavetown. Later on the Monday morning news I hear of the unprecedented winds and grass fires out of control in Northern Texas and Oklahoma.
Hinton, OK, 1296 miles, 11:00PM local time and 36 degrees in high winds.

22 Miles later in El Reno, Oklahoma, I callit quits for the night. A Days Inn beckons and I check in. I need a hot showeras it is now 35 degrees. The wind from the North is such a strong crosswind itdefeats the fairing. My left side feels like I am riding a naked bike. I amcold. I have completed 1318 miles with about 1100 to go. As I pull the bikearound the corner past the office to my room there are about 20 Goldwingsparked there. At least ¾ of them are trikes and many have trailers. Many havecovers over them that are flapping and blowing in the wind. No thanks, I willkeep the Beemer which suddenly seems small and sporty. By a few minutes aftermidnight I am warm, clean, in bed, and have the alarm set for 6 hours later. Ifall asleep quickly which is a blessing.

I slept the deep sleep, the kind where the alarm on my phone took a moment to penetrate my mind. For 10 seconds or so my decision making process was mired in oatmeal, incapable of comprehending the sound I was hearing and where the hell I might be. Then like a brisk ocean wave slapping me in the face it all made instant sense and I flew out of bed. I had packed before I went to bed and my fresh underwear and clothes were laid out on the second bed. Just 10 minutes later I started the Beemer and rocked it forward off the power center stand and backed it out from between 2 Goldwings. The good news was I felt great, rested, and ready to go. The bad news was the temperature display on the dash now read 29 degrees F and the wind was whipping. Later on Monday when I had the opportunity to watch TV news, I heard of the strong cold front I was battling and learned of the many fires in Texas and Oklahoma that were whipped up by the winds. Nothing I could do about the cold. The heated grips and seat were set to high along with the jacket liner. I had my rain pants over my jeans to cut the wind and I was set.

Boy, was I wrong. 2 hours and 22 minutes later, 8:32 AM local time, I pulled into a Love's station in Webber Falls, OK. I was frickin' cold. Nothing left to do at that point but grin and bare it. A little less than 5 gallons of gas and I was headed East again.

The country began to change. On the West coast a freeway interchange is a small compact, crowded area. Businesses are usually a few hundred feet from the freeway. Not so as I headed for North Little Rock, Arkansas. Interchanges became huge with long sweeping ramps and businesses that could easily be a half mile from the freeway. Somewhere after 9:30 or so I saw such an interchange with a Burger King sitting at least a third of a mile from my line of travel. I was quite cold and needed something warm inside me. I pulled in. I was cold and stiff and shivering as soon as I stopped. I thanked myself for the effort I had made to adapt the power center stand from a 2006 K1200LT to my 2000 model. I was able to push a switch and rise up on the stand. With the engine off I could stand on the pegs and step off the bike. The Beemer is tall and as stiff as I was there was no way I would have been able to use the side stand and gracefully get my right leg up over the rear of the bike.

Inside I got in line shivering. There had to be an Army base nearby as there were at least 20 men and women in cammo getting their breakfast. When I got to the cashier I was shivering hard enough to make my speech a little wobbly. The manager overheard me asking if they had hot chocolate as I couldn't see it on the menu. She stepped up and asked if I was frozen and I said yes through chattering teeth. She said something about taking care of me and directed the cashier to wait on the next in line. She soon presented me with a huge hot chocolate and said it was on her. She directed me to sit in a certain corner of the room as it was the warmest place. I thanked her profusely and did as I was told. I sat quietly and drank the huge hot chocolate as quickly as I could stand it. After about 10 or maybe 15 minutes the change was remarkable. I had thanked the manager again and was on the bike. I never thought to log the stop and I have no idea what town I may have been close to. That brief stop in a warm room with all the hot chocolate fixed me up. I headed East.

The countryside was getting lush with green everywhere and I was making good time. Pilot Oil in North Little Rock, Arkansas was my next stop. A quick fill up, a receipt, a half bottle of water and a nut bar from my side bag, a picture of the receipt next to the odometer and I was off.The temperature soon reached 50 degrees and life was good. The road was open and smooth and there were semi-trucks everywhere. I rode with my head on a swivel as there was new country to see. I crossed the mighty Mississippi at Memphis. Quite the river she is. I have always wanted to take a boat and travel the length of her, camping where possible. Like traveling across our country by train you could see a part of America not visible from our highways. No time now though as I turned Southeast on 22 and angled towards the Georgia coast. I didn't even slow down until the Loves #398 in Tupelo, Mississippi pulled me from the highway. It was 3:33PM local time or 1:33 my time. I had covered 1910 miles and had left Santa Monica 35 hours and 39 minutes earlier. 5.6 gallons of gas and I was on the road again after a quick slug of water and a brief pit stop at the indoor facilities.Back on the road I thought about the enormity of what I was trying to do. I still had 550 miles to cover. For many who ride that would be considered a very long ride. I guess those who embrace the IBA look at the world a little differently. Considering it was barely more than half of a SS1000 it seemed like nothing but as I rode I also realized it was still another 10 hours or close to it. Those are the thoughts that get discouraging but what else was there to do but ride.

Into Alabama and through Birmingham I gave a lot of thought to how diverse our country is. Most of my life has been spent on the West coast. Traveling, camping, and motorcycle riding has been mostly in the wide open spaces of the western half of this country. Gas stations can be far apart, camp grounds empty, and traffic in some places just isn't there. The Eastern states are relatively crowded and the highways are packed with Freightliners and Volvo semi-trucks hauling the freight. Truck stops can be really busy. So much of the land is relatively flat and with no mountains in sight and trees everywhere it is hard to see much past the highway you are traveling on. While pondering the differences I found myself passing through Birmingham and it struck me as being beautiful. I don't know why but I noticed there was green grass everywhere, in lawns, empty lots, highway medians, roadside berms, and it was all mowed. I was impressed. Maybe my mind was getting tired.

The sun was going down and I was ready for my next stop. I need reading glasses and because I did not have my ear buds in listening to music from the GPS, it meant I couldn't hear the directions. Not seeing the details on the GPS soon enough, I missed my next gas stop because it was on the other side of the divided highway just after a crossover point. Rather than turn around and back track I asked the GPS for the closest gas. There was a choice ahead and off to the right of my path of travel so I punch “go there”. The GPS took me to a little store off the beaten path in Sylacauga,Alabama. The Beemer calls for premium gas but with only one pump there was no decision to make. I was back in time maybe 40 years. There was no card slot on the pump and nobody came out and offered to pump the gas. Not used to that as there is no self-serve in Oregon, I stepped inside and 2 locals were talking to the woman behind the counter. The conversation paused and she asked if she could help. I said I needed to fill up and did I need to pay first. The three looked at me like I fell out of a tree as she said so matter-of-factually, “Nosugar, pump your own and come back in and pay”. I did just that and while paying answered a few of the questions I have come to expect about where was I from, where was I going and “What do you mean, you were in California yesterday?”. Questions answered, they wished me well and after asking how to pronounce the name of the town I took my pictures and I was ready. It was alittle after 7:00PM local time. I drank a bottle of water, ate two Hostess Twinkies and headed out on the last 350 miles.

Darkness fell and traffic on my route becamelight. I stopped somewhere for a moment and put my earbuds in and listened to music as I motored on. Watching closely for deer and other critters I made good time to my next stop at a Loves Travel Stop in Dublin, GA. I gassed up, used the facilities and took the time to eat a small bag of cashews and a drink a bottle of apple juice. The usual paperwork done, I headed out with little over 100 miles left, or so I thought. If you look at a map you can see I had to ride through Savannah and then pick up the Island Expressway and ride out through the marsh land to Tybee Island.


I had earlier doused the music so I could concentrate and I could not hear the spoken directions. Without my reading glasses I was in the wrong lane for a turn and was headed North across the Savannah River. As I was U-turning and working my way on city streets to get back on track the GPS was a little slow in “recalculating” and several times the command to turn was 10 seconds too late. I put on a few extra miles before I could get my bearings and the GPS and I could get back on the same page. Those were a few extra miles I could have done without.

Tybee Island, I was there. Looking at a map you can see as you enter the Island the road makes a right turn to the South and is basically one main straight road to the other end of the island. Right there near the turn was the BP gas pump I was looking for. As part of my planning I had used Google Earth to see what the station looked like and because it was a convenience type of store I had called as part of my planning to ask about hours. I had been assured the store would be closed but the pumps would be on. I pulled under the brightly lit canopy and stopped next to a pump. It felt good to push the button and wait as the center stand lifted the bike in the air. I had done it. I removed my gloves and stood on the pegs and stepped off. I took the time to remove my helmet. I could smell the ocean. It had rained earlier in the day and life was good. I inserted my card and entered my zip code. The machine said to choose my selection and begin pumping. I dutifully chose premium, pulled the nozzle from the rest and placed it in my tank. I pulled the trigger knowing I only needed less than 3 gallons................
Nothing happened. The pump's screen stayed on ZERO. What? Surely I did something wrong. I moved the bike to the next pump and followed the same ritual of homage to the pump god. Same result. No gas flowed. Now what? I imagine some dunce had turned the wrong switch at closing. The lights were on and the pumps were functioning but somewhere inside the pump itself was not running.

What a let down. I do not carry an ATM card so I needed to find someplace that was open at just after 2 in the morning. I saddled up and slowly rode the length of the Island with a sinking feeling. I did not want to ride back to Savannah. At the South end of the island there was an open bar, Nickie's 1971. I parked in front of the door and went inside. The female bartender was talking to the one customer left who was eating something. I asked her if her receipts had the date and time on them and she said yes questioning why I needed to know. I briefly explained to both her and the customer what I was up to and she said great, what did I need? Not being a drinker I asked for a coke and she poured one and said it was on the house. I thanked her but said I needed a receipt. She said of course and asked if I was hungry. I could see the small grill and cooking area and asked if they had fries to go with the coke. She said give me a minute and I could have something better. Shortly she placed a plate of homemade potato chips in front of me fresh from the fryer along with a receipt. I reached for my wallet and she told me to never mind that she and the customer paid it because nobody had ever traveled so far to eat her potato chips. With my final receipt in hand I ate and answered questions of the two. For those not in the long distance world it seems we are looked at as either amazing or totally nuts. I told them thank you and tipped her enough to cover the chips. Part way back up the Island I found the motel room I had reserved. The clerk was still up and very polite said he had been expecting me. During the planning I had called to be sure I could check in after 2 in the morning. It was inexpensive but basically a has been motel. I didn't care. I took a shower and went to bed.

I did it and few will care, but I care.
2483 miles on the GPS in 45 hours and 31 minutes.
It was difficult at times but I was reminded of someone who said “If it doesn't kill you it will make you stronger” or something close to that. 14 gas stops including the final fill up. No real meals, just snacks and a few energy bars. Caffeine has no effect on me but I did use a 5 hour energy drink, one each day.

You can do it also. The question is do you really want to?

If all you care about is the official ride you may stop reading now, but we all have to get home and that is where I had trouble.

The links here will take you to the maps and my Spotwalla track if interested.
1st map section
2nd map section
Spotwalla Track

Now to get home.
Monday morning I took a little time getting up in the morning and getting on the road. Now that I wasn't on the clock I could stop and smell the roses as they say. I headed south with the goal of stopping the next morning in Mobile Alabama to tour the Battleship USS Alabama. I stopped at a small motel somewhere on I 10 and got a good night’s sleep and was at the battleship when they opened the next morning. The ship is set up as a self-guided tour in 3 different sections with displays and lots to read and see. They say to allow 1 ½ hours but I spent a little over 3. It is a visit I would highly recommend. Seeing how our sailors lived, worked and fought in tight quarters made me think of my Dad. He enlisted in the Navy shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor and spent WWII in the Pacific Theater. I visited the visitor's center and bought 2 small souvenirs and hit the road.

I passed through Houston after dark and the traffic was amazing. They do BIG in Texas and I saw several gas stations with 10 islands with 2 pumps each and nozzles on both sides of each pump. That is 40 pumps in one station. Just West of Houston I stopped for the night. The next day I had lunch with my two beautiful daughters in San Antonio and bid them adieu and continued westward. A stop that night and before I knew it was Thursday and I was passing through Winslow, AZ on Interstate 10.

I had gassed up only 30 minutes earlier in Holbrook, AZ and it was about 4:30PM local time. As I neared the last exit for Winslow the bike got real quiet. No sputtering, no miss, no hesitation, just dead like I had shut her off. I coasted to stop on the shoulder. Checked the kill switch and the key and tried the horn. It was load and all gauges were on. I shifted to neutral and hit the starter and she cranked very smartly but nothing else happened. Wow, did I get bad gas? What the heck. I knew places would be closing. I used my phone and Googled tow trucks. The first I called said sorry, he had a flatbed but nobody to drive it, try the Ford dealer. Hey, why not. It turns out they also have a tow company. A nice lady said she would have a driver call me. In 10 minutes he did. He said he had just got home and had to make sure his 2 girls were OK and he would get to me soon. He actually did. He pulled up in front of me in less than 15 minutes. He was very polite and friendly and actually knew what he was doing. He slid the flat bed back and asked me if I could sit on the bike and steer and keep her upright. With his cable attached to a strap around 1 lower fork leg he pulled me up. As he strapped down the bike he said he actually towed a lot of bikes but mostly Harleys. He said that, I didn't. I asked to be taken to the Motel 6 with a stop at an auto parts store. No problem he said. At the parts store I bought a cheap multi-meter as I was expecting and electrical problem because the bike had quit so instantaneously. At Motel 6 I got a room and asked the manager if she would mind if I worked on my bike in her parking lot. She said no problem so we unloaded the bike.

As soon as I got in the room I jumped on the internet and the BMW K1200LT forum and asked for advice. I went outside while I waited for an answer and started to check things such as gas, smelled normal and tank was nearly full, battery voltage, good, and then pulled and tested all fuses. Back in the room there were answers and the suspicion was a burst fuel line in the tank. I had already checked for that and had seen no movement of gas in the tank when the key was first turned on. I had looked at that while waiting for the tow. It had been noisy on the side of the highway so I repeated the test in the lot. There was no moving gas but I also realized I heard no fuel pump priming. If you know a K1200LT you know it is fully encased in body work. Using the stock tool kit I started to remove body panels. I finally reached the connector that feeds electricity to the pump. No voltage when I turned the key meant an electrical problem. Oh, wait, the kill switch was off. Tried again and darn, there was voltage. My pump was dead.

Back in the room I searched the internet for a fuel pump. Genuine BMW dealer prices were all in the mid-$300 range and that would be if a dealer had one in stock. Depressing! Back on the BMW bike forum there was mention of a company in Ventura, CA. I checked the website and they had the Quantum pump for less than $80. I went to bed that night hoping I had a solution. First thing in the morning I was on the phone. The voice on the other end was knowledgeable and efficient. I gave him the part number and he said he needed to verify I had the right number. I gave the model and year of my bike and he said I had the right number and it was in stock. I asked if he could ship next day via UPS with Saturday delivery and he said sure. I do a lot of shipping at work via UPS and the price he quoted was more than fair so I made the deal. The rest of the day was spent watching day time television and taking the bike apart. I had heard horror stories about removing the large ring that holds the fuel pump assembly in the bottom of the tank. There I had a little luck. The only tool I had with me that was not part of the BMW tool kit was the wrench that came with my Wilburs shocks to adjust the preload. It was just big enough that I was able to remove the ring. With parts stacked in my motel room I talked to the manager. I explained I was expecting UPS in the morning. She said the assistant would be there on Saturday but she would leave him a note to notify me as soon as it arrived.

Saturday morning I had breakfast and then started pacing as I waited. Being a small town I was not sure what time to expect delivery but I thought surely it would be before 10:00AM. Sometime before 11 I pulled up my email confirmation and got the UPS tracking number to see if the website could tell me when to expect the delivery. Punching in the number I was surprised to see it said it was delivered almost an hour earlier. In a flash I was at the front desk listening to the assistant explain he hadn't read the managers notes yet. The package was on the counter next to him and he hadn't even bothered to call my room.

Now to make a long story short, the anti-climax.

I had bought a 5 gallon gas can the afternoon before so I could empty the almost full tank. I carried it outside along with the other parts. The pump from Quantum was an exact match in markings, colors, and everything else I could see. Installation was a snap and despite warnings from forum members the old gasket went back on the ring and when tightened and some fuel added it did not leak a drop. In an hour the bike was ready to go. As soon as I had electrical to the tank I had tried to start the bike and it started instantly. I went into the motel and told the assistant I had a free gas can for anybody that needed one. He took it and said he would check his employees.

Shortly after noon I hit the road and by Sunday noon I was home. I rolled the bike in the garage and put her on the powered center stand for 1 more time.
Would I do it again I have been asked. It almost surprises me that I say YES. Was I bored at times? Yes, a little. Was I cold? For at least 24 of the 45 hours, yes. It is hard to explain why it was a good thing? I just know that for me, it felt like I accomplished something. I hope to do more. I have looked at the ride from San Francisco to New York City. That is a possibility. I have also planned out a route to do the 48 states in 10 days.

Time will tell. Try one of these crazy rides of just 1000 miles in less than 24 hours. You might like it. I DO.


Well-Known Member
Garage Monster, an inspirational read. Littered with the trials and tribulations one is faced with on a long ride. I have not taken the plunge and completed a 50CC. Only last Saturday I did manage another SS1600K ride of 1673 kilometers. Being 70 years young I can relate to your concerns regarding ride fitness as your ride progressed. Regarding the warmth problem, I have a complete Warm and Safe outfit [socks, pants, jacket and gloves] which are fully adjustable for temperature control, so good. We have a problem with wildlife [kangaroos] at night on most of our interstate highways, you have your deer problems. It's a ride that still interests me, after 9/SS1600K's, 1/2000K [24 hours] and 1/ 2500K [36 hours], I'm looking for new challenges. Congratulations on achieving your goal and overcoming the fuel pump problems on your return trip. Cheers.
GM. Beautiful write-up!

I have attempted this 50CC ride 3 times, the first being about 12 years ago. 2 years ago I took off from Tybee Island at 3AM heading west and made it past Dallas the first day. I still felt pretty good but decided to head back to Richmond (VA) at a more leisurely pace. Not sure why but that was my decision. Anyway, this ride is now at the top of my list and I think I will set out sometime in October when the temps are 'more reasonable.'

And I'm looking again at Tybee / Savannah start, heading across mostly on I-20, and eventually dropping down to I-10 in west Texas.

Thanks for your further inspiration. BTW I am only 69.

Stuart in Richmond VA

Garage Monster

Premier Member
IBA Member
It is a personal thing, the decision go or no go. The IBA stresses that safety is paramount. As I point out to people who can't believe one can do a 50CC, I had 4 1/2 hours left and got a full 6 hours sleep.
Like my first attempt nobody should second guess the decision made by the rider. I might have had time to find a Suzuki dealer with a bearing and continue my ride. I did ride it home. The decision was mine.
That first cold night in OK I did consider abandoning the ride and turning South to see my daughters in Texas. I continued on and finished and that can never be taken away from me.
Let us all know if you make the ride.


Premier Member
IBA Member
Awesome story Garage Monster. The 50CC is at the top of my list these days, after completing a Bun Burner Gold and SaddleSore 2000 Gold this past July. I really enjoyed the read. If you ever get down to Northern CA let me know and I will buy you a coke.
We do. I did almost the same ride you did.....366 days ago. East to West And yes I am itching to do another. I just mapped out a 48 in 10 ride. There now I have it in writing. What is your next one, because we all know how freekin addictive this is.
I just cannot resist trying to see where roads apparently going no where actually go. Where is that pic from? Look like a great spot to camp while on a trip.

Garage Monster

Premier Member
IBA Member
I just cannot resist trying to see where roads apparently going no where actually go. Where is that pic from? Look like a great spot to camp while on a trip.
Sorry my picture appeared twice.

Google Maps,+UT+84753/38.0192829,-113.9697128/38.2521664,-113.9953502/Garrison/@38.3678443,-114.4225313,225803m/data=!3m2!1e3!4b1!4m16!4m15!1m5!1m1!1s0x80b5c2997ee2d1ed:0x685b6ec9aa1baf7c!2m2!1d-113.9241411!2d37.7988558!1m0!1m0!1m5!1m1!1s0x80b3e46a5fa2d8af:0x23f398df46a34f28!2m2!1d-114.031767!2d38.9373514!3e0

The road is in the Hamlin Valley in SW Utah. Start at Modena, UT and head north. Road is well kept and I have been over it twice. Although I am in Southern Oregon My boss has a ranch there and goes there whenever he can. His ranch is near the White Rock mountains. You can go north and eventually end up in Garrison, UT and then on to Ely, NV.