SS1000 attempt for me--

 

This is mostly for me to get thought on "paper".  It's been one hell of
a weekend.  :(

We've been playing the phototag game here in Michigan on the
Sport-Touring.net forum.  One of the posters has moved it to Copper
Harbor, a nice 600 mile one way run from Detroit.  No one else was
stepping up for it, so I prepped myself for the go after work Friday
with 8 hours of solid sleep Thursday night.  The bike was ready and so
was I.  Paperwork completed and log started, I took off at 3PM after
getting my start receipt at the Home Depot self checkout and ran rush
hour traffic west to US-23, planning a speed run to the Mackinaw Bridge.

Traffic didn't play nice.  I had bumper to bumper, but moving
congestion all the way to Flint!  From there it opened up a tad,
allowing me to raise the running average speed to just over 70 mph on
fillup in Mackinaw City.  After crossing the Big Mac, I had wide open
running on two lane blacktop.  Cars were basically non-existent.  My
thoughts were to get over by Munising and spend the night, but leaving
open the idea of going further if daylight allowed.  It did.  I stopped
in Marquette, 430 miles total, for some food about 10PM and checked my
messages on the phone.

Aw, hell.  It's a voicemail from the wife and bad news.  Her mother had
passed from a massive heart attack about the time I hit the Upper
Peninsula, but I had no reception all the way across.  Marquette is the
largest city in northern Michigan and had good tower coverage.  I
called her back, let her know where I was and would head south after
some sleep.  I'm now nearly 450 miles from home in the heart of
deer/elk country.  Grabbing a room, I got about 6 hours sleep.  Time to
get going at 7AM this morning.  I ran *hard* down US-41 to Route 2 and
then to the Bridge.  Really wicked it up going south from there.  It
took me just over 6 hours to get home on a 440 mile run with two gas
stops and no food.

After I arrived home, we made arrangements for the father in law and
family.  Visitation and church service will be held Sunday/Monday.  
I've never felt so helpless on one of my jaunts like this.  :(  Too far
from home to help and too long to get back.  Her mom was 80 and had
been in a senior rehab center from several major surgeries over the
past six months.  She was seemingly doing well, but the years and
stress took their toll.  She had just passed her 60th wedding
anniversary too.

All in all, I know the SS1000 certification will happen again.  In 22
hours with a solid 7 of them sleeping, I managed to get 900 miles done.
 Take aways on the fail?  No more Friday afternoon departures.  Either
start really early in the morning or make it a mid-week run.  Make sure
I'm headed in another direction to keep my cell service active.  Maybe
next month?  The GS needs tires and a 12k mile service now with 96k
miles on the clock.  The good was the weather was very good, with highs
near 80 both days and a low last night of 47 and no precipitation.  
Brrrr!  Personal observations, I was alert and aware the entire ride.  
No wobbles, weaves or near misses.  Heck, I could have done a BB1500
with the 36 hours available.  The custom seat's a treat too.

--
sleazy

 



I found myself in a similar situation a few years ago. It is a
helpless feeling.


My condolences to you and your family Tom. I don't know the author of
this work, but reading it always helps me get a handle on losing a
loved one

What is dying?
I am standing on the sea shore.
A ship at my side spreads her
White sails to the morning breeze
And starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength
And I stand and watch her until at
Length she hangs like a speck of
White cloud just where the sea and sky
Come down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says
There! She is gone."
Gone where? Gone from my sight
That's all. She is just as large
In mast and hull and spar as she was
When she left my side, and just as
Able to bear her load of living freight
To the place of destination.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her,
And just at the moment when someone at my side says,
"There! She is gone"
There are eyes watching her coming
And other voices ready to take up
The glad shout,
"There she comes!"
And that is dying


I came close to 1000 miles in 24 hours on the ride back from Lacrosse.
Bob and I left Fargo early in the morning. He went North and I headed
West. My plan was to ride to Regina or somewhere in that
neighbourhood. I got there in the late afternoon and figured I'd ride
for one more tank.  Then it was another tank. Before I knew it I was
in Medicine Hat and too close to home to spend money on a motel, so I
rode the last leg, getting home at 1:30 am.  It was 960 some odd
miles. I suppose I could have done the last 40, but I was not in very
good shape.

Good luck on your next attempt.

 

don (Calgary) wrote:

Thanks for sharing the poetry.

On one cross-country trip I found I had badly underestimated the distance to
our next motel but we pressed on arriving tired and sore about 11PM.  The
next morning I found we had done 970 some miles.  Shit! Had I noticed the
night before I could have run up the road and back and had bragging rights.
As it is I get an "Ahh shit".

 



The "Ahh Shit" is still ok.  

While the certificate would be nice to have, I ride for the pleasure
regardless of whether I cover 960 miles or 160 miles.

I recall one day a few of us left Creston and spent the entire day
riding to New Denver. I don't think we used a full tank of gas all day
and we had a terrific time.

In fact I still have a web page posted with pictures of that day.
http://actualriders.ca/cc2007pics2.htm

 



I totally agree and you know it too.  100 or 1000 or 1500 miles,
they're all fun.  I saw an opportunity to certify a ride and tried to
take it.  It'll happen sooner or later.  Probably later, as both bikes
need $$ thrown at them now to get them ready for another attempt.  hehe
 Freaking tires have gone sky high!  The same tires I bought last
September for $220 are now nearly $125 more.  :o

Don, I remember your experienced pain several years ago on your way to
Maine.  That was the first time we had talked about getting together
somewhere on the road as you rolled north of Michigan.  You were three
days away from resolution when you got the notice.

--
sleazy