Day 1
Reno isn’t Hell, but it’s so close you can see Sparks

I’m relaxing in a lovely room in the Nugget Hotel and Casino in Sparks, Nevada, typing a blog entry that I can’t post right now because the hotel charges for WiFi access. Can you believe that? I guess they’d rather have their guests gambling instead of surfing the net. So I’ll post this tomorrow at whatever motel I stay at that has free WiFi. I love you guys, but not enough to pay $6/hr just so I can blog.

The first day’s ride was a bit slow, but that’s what you get when you put your bike together at the last minute. I left late in the afternoon, after watching Claire perform at the end of her week-long summer dance camp. It was really great to see her so dance so joyfully. The feelings of love that welled up in me were a helpful reminder of what’s important on this trip – coming home safely to Sally and Claire.

At the gas station in San Leandro I decided to try out the nozzle helper dingus they gave us at the Cal 24. It’s supposed to make those California vapor recovery fuel pump nozzles easier to operate. Immediately the dingus dropped into the extra-wide mouth of my auxiliary fuel cell. Great. How the heck am I supposed to fish that out? I decided to deal with it later, and hoped it wouldn’t impede the flow of gas out of the unit.

Traffic wasn’t too bad for a Friday afternoon. I only had to lane split a little bit between home and the Carquinez Bridge. I was getting to know my new 2610 GPS. This is my first ride with the unit and I want to be able to use it effectively during the Spank. I was not paying close enough attention to navigation duties when I crossed over the bridge, and I ended up on 780 instead of 680, so I had to backtrack. Doh! First delay of the journey. Then traffic backed up about five miles from the junction of 80 and 680, and continued to be slammed all the way until past Vacaville. While I was splitting lanes I was appreciative of that privilege we have in California. I wondered what it will be like being stuck in traffic during the rally. Weather is supposed to miserably hot, so I guess I will bake in my riding gear as I creep along. Ugh! I hope I manage to avoid any heavy traffic on this trip.

Up in the Sierras I flipped over to my aux tank, but was dismayed to see that the fuel didn’t seem to be transferring. I exited at a gas station near Donner Summit and opened the gas cap to see a completely full tank. I also saw the nozzle dongle sitting at the bottom of the tank, clearly not in the way of any gas flow. Then I saw that I hadn’t fully seated the quick disconnect valve when I installed the tank this morning. Doh again! Press the connector and watch the fuel recede as the vital elixir transfers to my thirsty motorcycle.

The rest of the ride into Sparks was nice. The sun was going down, creating nice light effects on the mountains. Traffic was not a problem, and it was easy to find the hotel. I had a delicious late dinner at the seafood buffet, complete with two glasses of wine. Boy am I ready for bed now! Probably I’ll end up waking up early tomorrow and heading out with the sunrise. It’s going to be a long day. Rawlings, WY, is halfway between Sparks and Des Moines, so that’s my goal for the day. Cheers!

Day 2
A Saddlesore 1000? What the heck.

Here I am in Kimball, NE, which is at Mile Marker 20 in western Nebraska. This morning at 5:00 I departed the Nugget Hotel and Casino, which is at MM 19 in western Nevada. I can’t seem to make it more than 20 miles into a state before I fall into a deep torpor! In the intervening miles I crossed Nevada, Utah, and Wyoming, a total of 1,011 miles according to the computer. I had only planned on making it to Rawlins, WY, which is roughly halfway between Sparks and Des Moines, 800 miles. But early in the day the idea came to me that I should try to make today’s ride a Saddlesore. If I’m going to run seven in a row starting Wednesday, it couldn’t hurt to bang one out today. So I did! Total time was about 16.5 hours, a fairly leisurely pace. I took a few long gas stops and a nap at a state rest stop.

Since today went so well, I’m going to try to surprise Sally and Claire at the airport tomorrow. I called her and asked what time they land, and then said, “Oh, it’s impossible for me to make it by then.” But I actually think it’s quite possible. We’ll see how it goes tomorrow. :)

I had one long and frustrating delay in Tooele, UT when the gas cap for my fuel cell wouldn’t come off. At my previous gas stop I had positioned it slightly differently when I was done filling up, without thinking it would make a difference. Well, it did. I must have spent 20 minutes wrenching away at that thing before it finally came loose, looking much worse for wear. The gasket is chewed up, and there are bits of red plastic floating around in the tank. No way they’re getting past the filter, so it’s cool, but still, not good. I had Sally email BLM (the vendor) requesting an emergency shipment of a new cap to Spank HQ. Hopefully he gets the message in time and can respond. Otherwise I think I’ll be OK on this cap, but if it sticks again I could be without aux fuel for the rally. Erg.

On the way across Nevutahming I spent some time listening to “The Old Man and the Sea” by Hemingway. I didn’t know it when I chose it, but this story is a really good analog to endurance rallying. It’s a story of an old fisherman alone in a boat in the ocean, battling a giant marlin. He has to be extremely patient, smart, resourceful, and brave. In one passage, the fish jumps out of the water and the old man sees his adversary for the first time. The fisherman says, “Now I know what kind of fish he is. I’m going to show him what kind of man I am. He is my friend and I respect him greatly, but I am going to kill him.” It really got me thinking about the ways we express our manhood in today’s modern society. At work I am a powerless cog in a corporate machine. At home I try to be kind, loving, considerate, and inclusive in decision making. But out on the bike in a rally I am the boss, chasing my marlins under my own sole command, and pounding my chest when I net my catch. I highly recommend this story for endurance riders.