The Iron Butt Association is a group dedicated to long distance motorcycling. It is easy to climb aboard a bike and ride it, even to ride it a long way, but to do so without preparation is to both invite disaster, and pain probably in equal measure. It is also fair to say that “long distance” to most riders would be a short afternoon drive for the dedicated LD Riders. We might consider two to three hundred miles perched atop a motorcycle to be a longish distance, and it is; but the Iron Butt rides start at one thousand miles, and just get longer.
One thousand miles in less than twenty four hours, with every mile independently verifiable. That is the challenge, and it requires planning. As we will see later, it also require “doing”, and that it is possible to “over-plan”, built in flexibility will pay dividends down the road.
Just under a year ago I paid $250 for a wreck of a motorcycle. It is a 1977 Yamaha XS750-2D. The bike had been stored for years under a lean-to. The tyres were rotted out, some large bits were missing, and the years had seen it become less of a motorcycle, and more of a home to various species of Oklahoma wildlife. The aim was to get the bike running, mechanically safe and sound, and create a decent machine for Jodie and I to enjoy on weekends. It would be nice to improve the appearance a little, but I’m not a guy who enjoys polishing. I like to tinker, and I love to ride.
The re-build went fairly smoothly, and involved a modest outlay, lots of waiting for UPS, and some enjoyable “spannering” sessions. Slowly the bike took shape, and within a couple of months was back on the road. That was a nice time and we covered maybe 2500 miles last fall.
It wasn’t enough. I had read about the Iron Butt Association, and it intrigued me. Even the introductory ride, the Saddle Sore 1000, is a prodigious riding feat, well justifying the label of “The World’s Toughest Riders”. I am not tough. I’m just me, Steve, a middle-aged family man with no pretensions to toughness. Ask the kids, I’m a pushover.
Here was what caught my imagination. Could this bike that I basically rescued from a barn, carry me, husband, dad and regular guy, one thousand miles in less than twenty four hours? And could it do it safely, with at least a modicum of hope that we both might arrive back in one piece, and under our own steam?
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