Howdy-Ho fellow adventurers!
I'm from southern Minnesota and last fall I brought a Super Tenere after my beloved Bandit 1250 was totaled. I rode dirtbikes in my youth, and didn't really get into riding again till about 4 years ago. I had been looking into an Africa Twin, but stumbled across the Tenere at my local dealership. After taking it out for a test ride I decided it should be my next bike. I had been planning to do an Iron Butt ride and decided to do it after purchasing the bike. I wrote up my ride and tried to dig a little deeper into the why I rode 1000 miles in a day. I wrote this story up for guys that aren't familiar with the motorcycles or the Iron Butt Challenge.
If you want to see the route: https://goo.gl/maps/J13K4G3p1DUNcMaX9
A couple of fun stats on the journey: avg mpg was 40.8
my avg driving speed was 56.4
with stops (gas, breaks, photo ops, police warnings) brought it down to a whopping 48.8 mph.
The ride took me from the first 5:14 AM fuel stop to the last 2:42 AM fuel stop.
Now On with the story, and like the ride it's a little lengthy.
Grab the Popcorn and Enjoy!
“You’ve got to get a motorcycle, and then we’ll do an Iron Butt!”
Iron Butt, is that worse than Monkey Butt?
The official challenge is the Saddlesore 1000: one thousand miles in under 24 hours. Upon completion, the rider is granted entry into the worldwide club of 75,000, those claiming to be the “World’s Toughest Riders.”
The requirements are quite simple: documentation must be taken to prove the ride was done correctly, and upon verification, paying a one-time membership fee. Everything else is left to the participant to decide: route, motorcycle, time, etc. No prior registration is needed; it’s mostly left up to the honor system. The easy way to complete this challenge is to find some interstate, hammer down 500 miles, spin around and drive 500 miles back. The 24 hours is wall time not riding time, so if you leave at 6 A.M. you need to be finished by 6 A.M. the following day. That means the average speed only needs to be 42MPH. With the proper planning and determination a lowly scooter could complete the ride.
Hang around with any seasoned biker, and this cheeky challenge will eventually become a topic of conversation. For many, it’s a one and done. A bucket list task. For others, it’s the taste of a new lifestyle of long rides. Those who do follow through have one thing in common: they're all a little crazy.
When this challenge was presented to me I didn't have a motorcycle, not even a permit! But what I did have was an adventurous soul. Every once in a while the idea of buying a street bike interested me, but I dismissed the thought through the lens of logic and practicality. And so it went for years, until I received a sign-on bonus at my new job. My lovely wife allowed me to do whatever I wanted with it. It was now or never.
I signed up for an MSF course and started scouring the craigslist ads for a good beginner bike. Growing up I had some experience riding dirtbikes out in the country, and had even ridden my cousin’s V65 Honda Magna a time or two. From the ads I plucked a perky 750 Honda Nighthawk.
Over the course of the season I began to want more power, so I purchased a Suzuki Bandit 1250 the next winter. Now I felt I had the machine to take on the Iron Butt challenge. Over the course of the summer the Bandit and I grew to be quite in sync. I started prepping it for long rides, adding saddle bags, a larger windshield, a new seat, etc.
Then tragedy struck and my beloved Bandit was demolished in an accident. Worse yet my wife, who had been at the controls, was injured. She healed, but now I was again bikeless. Feeling guilty, my wife allowed a bigger budget for the next motorcycle purchase, a 2012 Yamaha Super Tenere.
The Super Tenere is an “adventure type” motorcycle. Which means it’s a heavy, stable, wannabe dirt bike. It’s basically an SUV of motorcycles. The previous owner had added many “farkles” (accessories) to the bike: heated hand grips, extra wind protection, crash bars, throttle lock, soft saddlebags, and of course a throaty exhaust note. All I added was a magnetic tank bag and a sheepskin seat cover.
The summer came and went, and it was fast approaching Labor Day weekend. The “Super T” and me were still very new to each other, but I was comforted in knowing it was a popular choice with long distance riders. It was time to either attempt the ride or put the bike up for storage for another year. I decided the time was right. My resolve to attempt the iron butt was ironclad.
Owing to the traveling restrictions of 2020, I decided I’d make my lockdown governor happy and plan my whole route in state. I’d travel around the Northern perimeter of Minnesota and ride on the west side as I hadn’t driven much in that area. Minnesota is riddled with silly tourist statues, so I decided to make them goal points as I travelled.
I took along some basic tools: fix a flat, bungee cords, a small 2 gallon fuel tank, a print out of my schedule, directions, phone, phone charger, snowmobile gauntlets, face mask, mp3 player with music and a couple audiobooks, an extra sweatshirt, and a small cooler with lunch, snacks and water. Also stowed away two cans of pop for emergency caffeine. On my person I wore my helmet, riding jacket, boots, gloves, and wallet. I was prepared, but travelling relatively light.
At 5:15 A.M. I topped off on fuel and started the clock. Since my phone battery was rather lousy, and I needed to photographically document stops, I decided to navigate by memory. I would trust the road signs to lead me to my destinations, rather than having GPS guiding me the entire way. What a great way to flex those “map muscles”.
First stop was Pipestone, and a picture with the “World’s Largest Peace Pipe.” I began scrolling through my memory to determine which road to look for. Despite studying my route backwards and forwards, in the wee morning hours... I got lost. As my headlights lit up road signs I panicked and took what I thought was the road I was looking for. I was too stubborn to check my map and thereby admit that I had already started off course. I found myself trudging along in the dark desperately looking for highway 59. Dumb luck seemed to be on my side and there was the sign for Highway 59. Happy with this success I followed 59, but for too long. I missed the road that would take me west. Instead, I went northwest. So much for having an early morning smoke break.
So there I was, already 40 miles short because I missed my road. I had made the decision to post my progress on Facebook as a way for friends and family to track my journey. I couldn’t help but wonder: Do I give up now? Do I admit I had already goofed only two hours in? Do I keep updating my progress to my audience? Only a couple hours in, my confidence in my decision making was shaken, and the shame of owning up to my “accountability” group loomed.
Well, I decided to own up to my mistake and be honest with myself and my audience. I admitted I had deviated from my route and would try to make it up elsewhere.
I'm from southern Minnesota and last fall I brought a Super Tenere after my beloved Bandit 1250 was totaled. I rode dirtbikes in my youth, and didn't really get into riding again till about 4 years ago. I had been looking into an Africa Twin, but stumbled across the Tenere at my local dealership. After taking it out for a test ride I decided it should be my next bike. I had been planning to do an Iron Butt ride and decided to do it after purchasing the bike. I wrote up my ride and tried to dig a little deeper into the why I rode 1000 miles in a day. I wrote this story up for guys that aren't familiar with the motorcycles or the Iron Butt Challenge.
If you want to see the route: https://goo.gl/maps/J13K4G3p1DUNcMaX9
A couple of fun stats on the journey: avg mpg was 40.8
my avg driving speed was 56.4
with stops (gas, breaks, photo ops, police warnings) brought it down to a whopping 48.8 mph.
The ride took me from the first 5:14 AM fuel stop to the last 2:42 AM fuel stop.
Now On with the story, and like the ride it's a little lengthy.
Grab the Popcorn and Enjoy!
“You’ve got to get a motorcycle, and then we’ll do an Iron Butt!”
Iron Butt, is that worse than Monkey Butt?
The official challenge is the Saddlesore 1000: one thousand miles in under 24 hours. Upon completion, the rider is granted entry into the worldwide club of 75,000, those claiming to be the “World’s Toughest Riders.”
The requirements are quite simple: documentation must be taken to prove the ride was done correctly, and upon verification, paying a one-time membership fee. Everything else is left to the participant to decide: route, motorcycle, time, etc. No prior registration is needed; it’s mostly left up to the honor system. The easy way to complete this challenge is to find some interstate, hammer down 500 miles, spin around and drive 500 miles back. The 24 hours is wall time not riding time, so if you leave at 6 A.M. you need to be finished by 6 A.M. the following day. That means the average speed only needs to be 42MPH. With the proper planning and determination a lowly scooter could complete the ride.
Hang around with any seasoned biker, and this cheeky challenge will eventually become a topic of conversation. For many, it’s a one and done. A bucket list task. For others, it’s the taste of a new lifestyle of long rides. Those who do follow through have one thing in common: they're all a little crazy.
When this challenge was presented to me I didn't have a motorcycle, not even a permit! But what I did have was an adventurous soul. Every once in a while the idea of buying a street bike interested me, but I dismissed the thought through the lens of logic and practicality. And so it went for years, until I received a sign-on bonus at my new job. My lovely wife allowed me to do whatever I wanted with it. It was now or never.
I signed up for an MSF course and started scouring the craigslist ads for a good beginner bike. Growing up I had some experience riding dirtbikes out in the country, and had even ridden my cousin’s V65 Honda Magna a time or two. From the ads I plucked a perky 750 Honda Nighthawk.
Over the course of the season I began to want more power, so I purchased a Suzuki Bandit 1250 the next winter. Now I felt I had the machine to take on the Iron Butt challenge. Over the course of the summer the Bandit and I grew to be quite in sync. I started prepping it for long rides, adding saddle bags, a larger windshield, a new seat, etc.
Then tragedy struck and my beloved Bandit was demolished in an accident. Worse yet my wife, who had been at the controls, was injured. She healed, but now I was again bikeless. Feeling guilty, my wife allowed a bigger budget for the next motorcycle purchase, a 2012 Yamaha Super Tenere.
The Super Tenere is an “adventure type” motorcycle. Which means it’s a heavy, stable, wannabe dirt bike. It’s basically an SUV of motorcycles. The previous owner had added many “farkles” (accessories) to the bike: heated hand grips, extra wind protection, crash bars, throttle lock, soft saddlebags, and of course a throaty exhaust note. All I added was a magnetic tank bag and a sheepskin seat cover.
The summer came and went, and it was fast approaching Labor Day weekend. The “Super T” and me were still very new to each other, but I was comforted in knowing it was a popular choice with long distance riders. It was time to either attempt the ride or put the bike up for storage for another year. I decided the time was right. My resolve to attempt the iron butt was ironclad.
Owing to the traveling restrictions of 2020, I decided I’d make my lockdown governor happy and plan my whole route in state. I’d travel around the Northern perimeter of Minnesota and ride on the west side as I hadn’t driven much in that area. Minnesota is riddled with silly tourist statues, so I decided to make them goal points as I travelled.
I took along some basic tools: fix a flat, bungee cords, a small 2 gallon fuel tank, a print out of my schedule, directions, phone, phone charger, snowmobile gauntlets, face mask, mp3 player with music and a couple audiobooks, an extra sweatshirt, and a small cooler with lunch, snacks and water. Also stowed away two cans of pop for emergency caffeine. On my person I wore my helmet, riding jacket, boots, gloves, and wallet. I was prepared, but travelling relatively light.
At 5:15 A.M. I topped off on fuel and started the clock. Since my phone battery was rather lousy, and I needed to photographically document stops, I decided to navigate by memory. I would trust the road signs to lead me to my destinations, rather than having GPS guiding me the entire way. What a great way to flex those “map muscles”.
First stop was Pipestone, and a picture with the “World’s Largest Peace Pipe.” I began scrolling through my memory to determine which road to look for. Despite studying my route backwards and forwards, in the wee morning hours... I got lost. As my headlights lit up road signs I panicked and took what I thought was the road I was looking for. I was too stubborn to check my map and thereby admit that I had already started off course. I found myself trudging along in the dark desperately looking for highway 59. Dumb luck seemed to be on my side and there was the sign for Highway 59. Happy with this success I followed 59, but for too long. I missed the road that would take me west. Instead, I went northwest. So much for having an early morning smoke break.
So there I was, already 40 miles short because I missed my road. I had made the decision to post my progress on Facebook as a way for friends and family to track my journey. I couldn’t help but wonder: Do I give up now? Do I admit I had already goofed only two hours in? Do I keep updating my progress to my audience? Only a couple hours in, my confidence in my decision making was shaken, and the shame of owning up to my “accountability” group loomed.
Well, I decided to own up to my mistake and be honest with myself and my audience. I admitted I had deviated from my route and would try to make it up elsewhere.
Attachments
-
67.9 KB Views: 27
-
70.2 KB Views: 27