From the Library

[Biggles]

Morris Kruemcke surprised riders when he arrived in Salt Lake City without the black "Stealth Bike" that had been such an attraction at the Iron Butt Pizza Party in Daytona, Florida the previous March.  Morris's Stealth Bike started as a wrecked Gold Wing but no longer had much in common with the production version.  The bullet-shaped vehicle, enveloped in a jet-black carbon-fibre skin, looked as if it belonged either on the salt flats of Bonneville or in a James Bond flick.  Mounted inside, the cockpit surrounded the rider and included such space-age instrumentation as a digital fuel flow readout as well as the more pedestrian tachometer and speedometer.  Some sort of backrest had been modified to support the rider's chest as he leaned forward to stay below the wind stream.  This reduced rider fatigue and increased mileage at the same time.  And yes, this bike was also equipped with the "Morris Kruemcke Pee-Tube".
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 85

[Biggles]

Michael Stockton had a more pleasant experience on U.S. 49 twelve hours earlier.  He was stopped by a Mississippi State Trooper.  Usually, being stopped for speeding isn't pleasant, but when Michael handed over his driver's license, he noticed that the trooper wore a college ring from the University of Mississippi.  A good friend of Michael's, now a doctor in Oklahoma City, had attended the same university.  When Michael mentioned this, the trooper acknowledged with surprise that she and Michael's friend had been best friends in high school and college.
"Did you have a big, black Harley Dresser in the mid '80s?" she asked.
"Yes," Michael replied.  "Well, your friend told me about you. She suggested that you and I meet some time, because I ride motorcycles too."
After talking for half an hour, Michael explained the Iron Butt.
"Well, let me help you make up some time," she suggested, "I'll escort you out of the State of Mississippi."  So Michael received a high-speed escort to the Alabama state line.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 108-9

[Biggles]

Gary Eagan's experience the previous evening may have been a unique one.  As he pulled into a gasoline station near Hoxie, Arkansas, lightning was flashing in all directions.  He was surrounded by clouds, could smell the rain in the air, and felt the wind blowing in strong, sustained gusts.  Half an hour later, trucks started blinking their lights as they went by in the opposite direction.  Gary believed the trucks were trying to warn him of a trooper, but he wasn't exceeding the speed limit at the time.
"A massive gust of wind pushed me off the road, across the shoulder, and into a field,"  Gary reported.  "I didn't know what hit me.  The field was muddy, but not yet so bad that I couldn't get back on the road.  As I looked to the northeast, I could see a small funnel cloud.  It scared the hell out of me."
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 110

[Biggles]

So Martin decided to make his first visit to the Iron Butt Motel.  He pulled the motorcycle under an overpass, as far out of the way as he could manage, laid his head on the tank bag, and spread his arms across the fairing.  Despite the pounding rain-storm, he fell asleep immediately.  About three hours later, startled awake by a truck roaring past, he thought he had momentarily fallen asleep while riding and was about to smash into the concrete bridge abutment a short distance before him.  He tried to execute an emergency swerve, nearly toppling himself and the motorcycle to the pavement. "The emergency braking got my adrenaline flowing and I headed off relatively refreshed," Martin related.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 111

[Biggles]

While preparing to grab a few hours of sleep, Suzy Johnson looked on as members of the Christian Motorcycle Association repaired her motorcycle.  She had encountered some rough roads in Louisiana and broken part of the exhaust system.  The Christian volunteers were on hand at the checkpoint to help with the repairs.  Suzy hadn't been in bed since Arizona and wanted to sleep, but the Christian bikers wanted to talk.  So Suzy talked until midnight, when the repairs were complete.
Then she checked into a motel and collapsed for the evening.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 117

[Biggles]

I was in the middle of a giant traffic jam leading through Washington to the horizon.  I decided to do what had worked well for me in other places in the rally and began splitting lanes.  This worked for several miles until I found myself between a semi and a truck that was pulling a mobile home.  I could see the semi driver's face in his rear view mirrors, so I knew that he had seen me. 
The driver began to pull over, smashing me into the mobile home. I was attempting to maintain my speed to keep the motorcycle upright as I was being held against the side of the moving mobile home.  When the semi finally began to fall back, the lug nuts of the truck's front axle sheared the right cover off my motorcycle's engine guard.
When I managed to finally clear the semi, I jumped the motorcycle onto the sidewalk and stopped to examine the damage and to give my knees an opportunity to stop shaking. In addition to the damage caused to the motorcycle, my left leg, which had been pinned against the side of the mobile home, wracked with pain.  I decided that weeping wouldn't help anything. The semi was gone, so I continued on my way to West Virginia.  This was the last time that I practiced lane-splitting in the United States.  (report of Martin Hildebrand)
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 123

[Biggles]

Finally, I spotted a fuel station from the interstate, took the exit, and turned into the parking area. I felt that I had entered some "end of time" scenario.  The station wasn't very old, but was damaged with signs dangling and people hanging out.  All the pumps except one were occupied.   I parked at this pump and found that two of the three handles were unusable.  One had a hand-printed sign, 'out of orda,' hanging on it, and the other had been cut. Apparently, someone had tried to set it on fire.
I tried to use the remaining handle, but found that I had to enter the station to pay for the purchase before the pump would function.  On entering the station and having an opportunity to inspect my surroundings, I began to understand why prepayment was required.  The cashier was surrounded by bulletproof glass and there were several signs stating that the station would not accept bills over $20. One sign stated, "In No Case Is There More Than $50 Cash Here."  As I stepped from the cashier's window, I detected at least 20 pairs of eyes locked on me.  Although all pumps were occupied, I didn't see any vehicle taking fuel while I was there.  All vehicles were at least ten years old, and all had some major body damage.  After quickly taking a gallon of fuel, I departed.  I was careful to not make eye contact with anyone.  I had the impression that the small package that I saw being exchanged with the driver of one of the parked cars was not containing vitamin pills.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 124

[Biggles]

A little after 11:00pm, I entered the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel and headed across the dark 17.6 mile expanse of water connecting the Delmarva Peninsula with the Virginia coast.  I knew about this engineering marvel, the world's largest bridge-tunnel complex, but had never had the opportunity to see it.
This structure, acclaimed as one of the "Seven Wonders of the Modern World", begins as a bridge where it leaves the mainland at Virginia Beach.  A restaurant, gift shop, and fishing pier are located on the southernmost of the four man-made islands.  Several miles from shore the highway disappears into a tunnel beneath the ocean.  After about a mile, the highway rises to the surface and continues once again as a bridge.  All I could see was water- the Chesapeake Bay to one side of the highway and the Atlantic Ocean to the other.
After another five miles the highway again descends beneath the ocean and continues through a second tunnel for another mile before rising one final time as a bridge, ending at Cape Charles, Virginia.  I enjoyed the crossing and only wished I had been able to make the trip during daylight.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 129

[Biggles]

Murf could tell us all something about the crappy roads in this part of the country. As he was circling the nation's capital in the fourth lane of the five-lane beltway, a jarring encounter with a pothole caused his motorcycle to suddenly and unexpectedly stop running.  As with my flameout in Jacksonville the previous day, Murf's occurred in the middle of heavy traffic.  A trucker noticed his plight, understood what was going on, and signalled him to head for the shoulder.  The driver used his 18 wheeler to block traffic as Murf made his way to the side of the road.  Murf's motorcycle has a sensor to detect if the motorcycle leans too far to the side.  The sensor, a pendulum suspended in oil, closes an electrical circuit if the pendulum touches the inner edge of a retaining ring.  Theoretically, such an occurrence means the motorcycle has fallen.  When the circuit closes, the engine stops running.  In Murf's case, the shock of hitting the pothole generated enough motion in the device to trigger the shutdown.  The sensor recycles after the ignition switch is turned off and then back on.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 133

[Biggles]

By this time, I realized that my previous thoughts about surviving a fall from the bridge were stupid.  If I was blown off, I was dead.  The impact of hitting the water after such a long fall would surely knock me out, and it was stupid to think about surviving the freezing water.  I had swum in Lake Michigan in August and knew how cold it was at this time of year.  The correct plan was not to be blown off.  As I headed for the bridge and worked my way through the gears, I felt that this was a strange bridge, different from others I had crossed.  The guard rail seemed only knee-high. An optical illusion? I remained in the center.
It was too dark to see the Great Lakes below- Lake Michigan on my left and Lake Huron on my right. Shoals, heavy fog and high seas in the highly navigated waters between the two Great Lakes contributed to the loss of many ships in the area.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 159

[Biggles]

I was a few hours behind Gary Eagan, whose experience in crossing the bridge had been much different from mine.  He ascended the bridge as the sun was setting to his left, over Lake Michigan. The sky was filled with spectacular shades of red.  Half of the sun was visible as it sank slowly below the horizon.  And at that instant, a full moon, appearing half the size of the sun, was rising to his right, shining brightly above Lake Huron.  After the rally, Gary documented his experience while crossing the bridge:
"It was like the sun and moon were perfectly balanced on a teeter-totter.  It was surreal- so incredibly beautiful that I wanted to stop the bike and just watch it.   
But not on that bridge.
"I guess that event probably happens one or two times a year there, when the sun is far enough north and the moon is full. It's impossible to describe how wonderful that was.  I yelled and shouted halfway to Manistique on Highway 2.  It was just what I needed to rejuvenate me and ease the disappointment of the problems I believed had cost me a shot at winning the Iron Butt.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 160

[Biggles]

It's amazing  that riders will continue to ride for hours in great discomfort to avoid stopping.  They'll tolerate an enlarged bladder to minimize nature breaks, put up with a growling stomach or parched throat to postpone a food stop, ride in wet clothing to avoid the interruption of donning a rainsuit, or permit a headache to develop as a result of incessant wind noise rather than stop to insert earplugs. At one time or another I've been guilty of all of these quirks.
Mike included advice in his long-distance riding tips about "stopping to go farther".  His advice was offered because the phenomenon described above is so prevalent, even among riders who should know better.  Stopping at appropriate intervals for meal breaks and rest doesn't cost the endurance rider time.  It  actually makes it possible to spend more time in the saddle.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 161

[Biggles]

I fought the "nods" more than at any time since the rally began.  I tried every trick I knew.  I opened the face shield to my helmet and stood upright on the pegs to let fresh air blast directly into my face, unobstructed by the motorcycle's windshield.  I unzipped the front of the Aerostich to let air blow into the suit.  I performed deep knee-bends while standing on the pegs, hoping that increasing my circulation would help me remain alert.  I sat back down and shook my head vigorously from side to side. I changed my position on the motorcycle dramatically, trying to make myself as uncomfortable as possible.  I ate a Snickers and drank a Mountain Dew.  I sat on the passenger seat with my feet on the passenger pegs, my back pressed the duffel bags, and my arms stretched forward on the controls.  I sang, cursed, and shouted commands to myself to stay awake.
"Stay awake until sunrise, damn it! You can last until sunrise!  Don't surrender now!  Don't be such a damn wimp!  After sunrise, things will be OK!"  I believed things would be OK if I could last until daylight.  No matter how tired I get, I always become re-energized when I see sunshine.  When I start a ride before daylight, I'm usually sluggish and drowsy, even after a good night's sleep.  When the sun comes up, things improve.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 168-9

[Biggles]

Chuck walked to me.  Neither of us spoke a word as we embraced and exchanged hugs that were more than only sincere.  We felt the same honest happiness that two brothers feel after a separation of 20 years.  Bystanders appeared puzzled.  I'm 6'-2" and Chuck is as large. We both had full and filthy beards and were in dirty and stinking motorcycle clothes.
Neither of us was bothered by that. In one sense, I and this man didn't know much about each other. I've never seen his home and he hasn't seen mine.  We hadn't spoken more than a few dozen words to each other before we left Salt Lake City.  But now, 11 days later, we know that we share an experience that can't be bought at any shop.  We've seen the same ghosts in the same nights.  We both fought them and beat them.  This isn't something many people can tell about each other.
This poignant scene captures the feeling that many riders were experiencing during the final days of the rally.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 176-7

[Biggles]

Mike and Jo Hannan live on the Gold Coast of Queensland

I'm not sure about this, but I do know that there are those who get bikes and those who don't. Those who don't are usually the folk who ask, "What's it worth?"  When you tell them the retail price, they respond, "You could buy a good car for that," as though a motorbike could only be a cheap alternative to a car.  Those who get bikes love the way they work and the relationship between the bike and the rider.  They love the way bikes make you feel; the sheer exhilaration of it.  Besides, as we were about to find out, riding a bike can teach you some useful lessons about life, if you care to learn them.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p17