I'm in!!
It has begun. Yesterday afternoon I got the email from Lisa Landry that started with the words, “Congratulations! Your application was drawn for entry in the 2009 Iron Butt Rally.” I was at work, on the phone at the time, absentmindedly checking my email for the umpty-umpth time. I couldn’t say anything out loud at the time, but I did a silent “woo hoo!” and raised my arms in triumph. A tingly feeling of warmth and well-being swept through my body. The days and weeks of anticipation were over, and I had gotten my wish. I could breathe, and I could smile.
I submitted my application in late January. The drawing was on or about April 1 and the notifications were promised to go out no later than April 15th. Well, for two weeks I’ve been manically checking my email, and reading the tea leaves with George Zelenz. George has been my IBR guru since I helped him on the 07 Spank. He was very interested in whether or not I got in. It's nice to have made a friend in George. My work on the Spank was not rooted in any ulterior motives, it just naturally evolved out of some conversations we had regarding GPS tech stuff. We worked well together. Then I met L3 and "Chopped Liver" Hobart at the mountain-top bonus, and ended up finishing 2nd in the rally. I don't know if any of that had an impact, but at some point the right people decided I was IBR material. Yay me! Now all that was required was some luck on drawing day...Why?
Now comes the hard part: soul searching. Is this the right thing to do? Should I leave my wife and daughter alone for two weeks while I risk my life and limb on a wild goose chase? Is this a wise use of the thousands of dollars this is going to cost? How dangerous is this, really? The answer to all these is rooted in the answer to the really big question: What does the Iron Butt Rally mean to me? Why am I doing it, and what do I get out of it? I have until May 15th to pay my deposit. After that there’s no going back. These were the topics of bedtime discussion at the 518 residence last night.
What is the Iron Butt Rally? To me, it’s the Super Bowl and the Olympics of my sport. Only the best riders get in, and the best of the best make it to the winner’s circle. Making it to the starting line of the IBR is itself an affirmation of my standing and abilities in the community. (Either that or plain luck, don't kid yourself, Jer.) Just finishing, even in last place, is an accomplishment that very few have ever made. Right now there are 364 people who have ever finished the IBR, compared with 2436 people who have climbed
Why endurance rallying? Most other sports don't have life-threatening risks. As Sally said last night, why not take up marathon running? This one is harder to answer. I call endurance rallying the greatest game on Earth. I certainly have experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows during rallies. Obviously I love riding my bike on the open road. I love seeing beautiful scenery, enjoying the varied terrain, discovering different places and the people in them. When I’m on the bike I feel like I’m blessed by God to live in our world. It’s like being fully alive. The world is a gift given to me to enjoy.
But I can do all those things on a normal schedule, without the deprivations of “rally time.” The rally part appeals to me because of the challenge. The rallymaster does his best to create a puzzle with an answer that’s unknown until it’s over. When choosing targets, you need to ask yourself: is this bonus worth the effort required to get it? Can I make this in combination with all the other chosen targets? I need to think faster and better than the other riders to solve the puzzle better than anyone else. Then you need to execute the plan, which is easier said than done. Small mistakes add up, and big mistakes hurt like hell when you realize you’ve made them. When I excel in a rally I have affirmed my skills, and honed them for the future. When I do poorly I am challenged to examine what went wrong and learn from it, while keeping a positive attitude. The 07 Spank was particularly gratifying, because it was a mental challenge that I solved well, and it included some kick-ass riding. (Ken Meese knows what I mean.)
Rally bonus locations are beautiful, offbeat, difficult, funny, thought-provoking. I can’t tell you how many places I never would have visited had it not been on a rally. Jump into a lake, touch the
I must mention that LD people are top notch folks. The leaders in our sport, the rallymasters and rally winners, are invariably ultra-smart, and full of integrity and giving. Underneath the tough veneer they coach the new folks. Everybody knows that any type of cheating is unthinkable. People will stop and render assistance when needed, even when it threatens their own rally, because it’s the right thing to do. Above all, we have the bond of having gone into combat together, and emerged to lie about it over beers later.
The bottom line is, I am called to rallying. It touches me in a way few other things do. At my core I am a husband, a father, a Christian, and a long distance rider. This calling overrides any risk factor. I do my best to mitigate the risks. My bike is set up for maximum lighting, traction, and braking. I practice my skills on mountain roads and track days. Whenever I start to do something chancy, I think about my girls back home. Priority One is always to make it home to them, and I won’t take any bad bets that would jeopardize that. I have been doing this long enough to read my own fatigue levels, and to know when it’s time to stop and rest. Yes, there is random risk that is out of my control. For those situations I pray that the Lord will protect me and my family. He has answered those prayers in the past, and he has given me this opportunity to ride in the IBR. I’m going to use it as righteously as I can.
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