Jack Fowler's
100CCC Ride Report
April, 2005
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Jack Fowler's
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Several people have asked me why I would want to do endurance riding. My answer will follow. I have thought about this ride for days and have come to the conclusion that I will change the format of my ride report for the 100CCC. In the past I have recorded my vacations, motor home trips and motorcycle rallies in a format that listed and recorded where I went, what I saw and when I got there. For this ride that would be boring. Any Idiot can look at a map and see the shortest route from San Diego to Jacksonville Florida. That is Interstate 8 to Interstate 10 and then if you are returning do the same highways in reverse. The format I will use is to just record my impressions and experiences. Forgetting about recording the times and locations. I may not even tell this story in sequential order. For those of you who don't know about this organized ride, the 100 stands for an imposed one hundred hour time limit and the CCC represents a coast to coast to coast endeavor. One then needs to start on one side of the United States, ride to the opposite side of the country and then return to the original coast. You can do it anyplace along the east and west coast of the US, but most riders choose the shortest route to ride. That route is San Diego to Jacksonville and return to San Diego or vice-a-versa, Jacksonville to San Diego and return to Jacksonville. In 2005, 60 people/riders signed up for the event. Forty started in JAX and 20 started in San Diego. About 75% of all the riders did the 50CC and 25% signed up for the 100CCC. You can see that a 50CC is only one direction, no return trip is required. But, I am getting ahead of my story. Please let me start at the beginning. Some time in mid-2004 I found the "Motorcycle Tourer's Forum" (MTF) internet web site and made contact with Greg through the email system. In 2004 Greg was to be a ride witness in San Diego, but somehow missed that opportunity. I am not sure what his story was on the missed opportunity. Greg lives in Bakersfield California, about 85 miles west of my home. We had lunch together one Saturday and decided to ride the 2005 event together. In Jan-Feb 2005, Greg received a new position at work. His new position would NOT allow him to take off for one week in April, so again he would miss the ride this year. Sorry Greg, I decided to go anyway. In March I was able to make email contact with Jason who was the MTF ride coordinator for 2005. Jason answered all my questions and concerns about the ride & route and I decided to participate with the organized group this year. I was worried about too much structure in this ride and too much control on the riders. I didn't want the organizers telling me where or when I must stop to rest or when I could leave again. Jason assured me there were no controls like that in this event. In mid-March I replaced my somewhat warn Dunlop rear tire with a new Metzler ME880. It felt good to have fresh rubber on the road. My front tire (also a Metzler) had plenty of tread left to go the 5000 miles this ride would require. I had a new Satellite radio on board and the tunes were coming in fine. I was learning more each day about the operation of my "Street Pilot III" GPS and the radar detector was still operational. Yeller (my Gold Wing) had fresh oil and filters including the air filter. I felt good about the coming ride.
The Riders and Other People:Carl; I met Carl on the internet after emailing him about this 100CCC "thing". Carl is a GL1800 pilot (orange color) like myself. Carl had also signed up to do a CCC in 2005. After some discussion we planned to ride together and we did for awhile. Separation comes easy for an endurance rider. Carl is a Rail Road employee in Wyoming. I guess living in the wide open spaces of Wyoming you learn to ride much faster then us Southern California city boys. Carl rides faster than I do and after a while we became separated. So much for riding together! Carl is a nice guy, but he doesn't much care for "Engineers". I had to keep ducking his flaming arrows because I "are" one..Dave and Tom; These two folks were riding partners from the beginning. Dave was on a Yamaha FJR 1300cc rocket. Tom on the other hand rides a "Davidson" FLJXRHFS, or something, sorry I never have understood the Harley way of naming their products. Anyway, the first morning out Tom and Dave rode with us for a while across the California desert. Of course we put Tom in the back of the pack. No way was I going to ride behind him and listen to that thump-thump-thump of his Davidson's loud pipes. After an hour or two Tom and Dave went their own way and I didn't see them again until the finish. Gerald; Loan officer supreme that is "Jerry"!! He was also mounted on a GL1800, a black one. Jerry loves traveling in "Mexico". That is the one south of the border not the one in the USA. Gerald and Carl were both on me about going to Old Mexico on my bike and although I have been to the country several times, I don't want to push my luck over there. There are still plenty of roads in the states I have never been on, besides I speak the language north of the border a whole lot better. Michael; First time rally guy, Mike is from Idaho and was mounted on a BMW K1200LT. Nice bike! Mike was very interested in learning everything he could about endurance riding. He was a sponge for all the information on our equipment. I expect, the next time I see him on a rally his machine will be loaded. A process called "Farkled". Jerry; I rode with Jerry a couple of times. Jerry rides a Honda ST1100 and can eat a hamburger while underway. After pulling through a drive thru at a fast food place, I watched him munch on one. He entered the 100CCC and started in Jacksonville. He lives in Tennessee and is a "Christian" motorcycle rider. I first tagged up with him on his return trip in San Antonio then again later in Florida close to his finish. Mark; I have talked with Mark in email only. He lives in Georgia and rides a yellow wing like I do. We have emailed each other several times about various things. I think Mark passed me twice on his return trip to Jacksonville. Jason; Ride coordinator extraordinary, once again, I met Jason on the net. He is a computer consultant and works for different companies in different cities at different times. I never know where he is going to be living. I found his web site and read about his exploits in the 2003 Iron Butt Rally (IBR). Jason is much younger than I expected! I am not sure why, but I thought he would be an older person. I guess it was because he was riding a wing when he contacted the "lady's car". You see, most wing riders are older folks. Age seems to require cushions on your backside and wings have plenty of those. Besides the other reason wing riders are usually older, is they are smarter! Here is a computer geek and wing rider, what else could he be, but older? How do you like my powers of deduction? They are my second greatest attribute behind my good looks, riding skills, intelligence, writing skills, personality, smile and I still have all the hair on my head. Oh by the way, did I mention my good looks? Lisa; Rally mamma from the IBR 2003 and 2005. Lisa witnessed for us in San Diego and again was NOT what I expected. IBR rally masters need to be hard guys, hard gals, hard people to say the least. It is the nature of the business of dealing with different types of riders. Lisa doesn't come across as a hard person. She is all smiles, jokes and a warm personality. As you can tell, I hardly know her at all, but I like her. Maybe her strong point is to disarm "Hard Butt Riders" with her warm charm, do you think? The "Riders Banquet" was held at the Hunter's Steak House. It was a short walk from the Premier Inn where we were lodged for the night. Most of the east-west-east riders from JAX had not yet arrived, so there were only about 18-20 riders at the banquet. The food was great and the conversation was lively. People took lots of pictures, but I forgot my camera in the hotel room. This banquet was different from others I have attended. No M.C. spoke about the ride rules, trip plan or reminded us about safety. This was the place to meet other riders face to face. Two hours later everyone was stuffed and we headed to our rooms or the beach for the traditional gathering of sand and water. 
DAY #1We were released at 5AM and rode the 4 miles to Johnny's Ocean Beach Shell Station. We stopped for our fuel receipts and recorded our odometer readings. Five minutes later Carl and I were on I-8 eastbound. Right away I discovered that I had forgotten to insert my new "ear-buds", the first tank of gas (300 miles) would be without music. Ear-buds are miniature speakers I had fabricated from moulds of my ear canals. They plug into my radio system and provide music to my ears while blocking out the unwanted road noise. They work great and are well worth the extra $$$. Later at Gila Bend AZ, I was able to install them and have tunes the rest of the day.Even though Carl and I were riding together it wasn't long before Gerald caught up to us and joined our group. The 3 of us crossed the hills leaving San Diego and as we approached the Imperial Valley area Dave and Tom also joined us. The five of us played tag with thump-thump-thump Tom, in the rear until we reached Gila Bend AZ where Tom & Dave departed our company. It was a beautiful ride that morning with perfect weather across California and Arizona. There was no wind and we had bright sun with cool temperatures. Leaving the second fuel stop at Lordsburg NM Carl decided we were not riding fast enough for his Wyoming style and he took off. I would see him several more times during the 100CCC. After Carl's departure and a little later Gerald and I got separated by traffic and I never saw him again until the finish back at San Diego. I continued traveling east on I-10 thru New Mexico and western Texas. At El Paso the traffic was heavy, but moving fast. I needed to keep my head on a swivel so I could keep track of all the vehicles around me. Several miles later at Junction TX I stopped for more fuel and there was Carl pulling away from the pump as I came into the station. We said hi, how are ya? See ya! Then it was on to San Antonio. I caught up to Jerry on the ST1100 before we reached SA. I think Jerry was having a lack of sleep problem, but he got it together when I came along. We rode together thru the city. It was about 2AM, I think? We rode together until I needed fuel and he didn't. That was after we left San Antonio TX. I stopped. When I regained I-10 I was alone. Somewhere between San Antonio and Houston I found some debris on the highway. I was in a left hand curve meeting traffic with my lights on dim and doing 80MPH. I got a glimpse of something going under my fairing on the right side. It was gray in color and about 3-4 feet long, 18-20 inches wide and laying perpendicular to my line of travel. I didn't miss it! Yeller's front shocks compressed as the front wheel went over it. It was bounced up into the air and Yeller's lower cowling took the hit. I traveled to the next off ramp wondering if the tire would go flat or hold up. I found an open service station with the lights on. I wanted to check the front tire for slices and other damage. The tire was OK! Then I looked at Yeller's Right side lower cowling area. It is history! The area around the fog light was missing or in pieces. Amazingly with ½ the fog light housing was missing and the lens gone, it was still lighted, but pointed somewhat skyward. After returning home I have replaced the cowling and fog light assembly with new parts.
DAY #2I continued on toward Houston in the great state of Texas. My timing was once again impeccable. It was 6:30 in the morning when I reached the city limit sign. All of rush hour was on its collective way to work. WOW! Houston has a lot of cars. Bay Town is a nice place but Orange Texas was the town I was looking for. It is a small place snuggled in at the state line. Texas has 887 mile markers along Interstate 10 and I counted every one of them. Before I found mm-887, I was beginning to think someone had moved Orange TX. This is one big state!After the experience of crossing Texas; Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama combined are nothing to travel across! At Baton Rouge we took I-12 to bypass the New Orleans metro area. Well, some of us took I-12. I later talked with one rider that actually stayed on I-10 the whole way. He realized that was a terrible mistake. When I got to Florida I ran into the stop & stop traffic at the Pensacola Bridge. There was not much "go" with this stopped traffic. This is the bridge that suffered damage due to "Ivan the Terrible". Eastbound traffic has one lane open only. There is a bypass around the bridge and I knew about it in advance. There is no way to get to the bypass until you are at the entry to the bridge. By that time the traffic was moving again if somewhat slow. I stayed on I-10 and crossed the bridge. The steel grating was dry and no problem if traveled on at a slow rate. It has holes in it, but I did NOT look down. There was no way to go fast in this traffic. One hundred and fifty miles later and I'm thru Tallahassee. I know I am getting close, Live Oak comes up soon and then I pass I-75 which crosses I-10 and goes from south Florida to Georgia and beyond. My backside is tired and I am in bad need of a rest break. Where are those rest stops when you need them? I decide to pull over beside the interstate. So, I find a road crossing under I-10 with an onramp and decide the wide area at the top of the onramp is the place to stretch my legs. I am just finishing my exercises (knee bends & jumping jacks) when Jerry pulls up the onramp and stops behind me. He is eating a hamburger. We decide to ride together for a while. He pulls up beside me and snaps a digital photo of me while we are moving.
 Once again I need to pull over for fuel and Jerry continues on by himself. Back on the interstate, I am once again alone, but now I am really close. It is now completely dark and I can see the lights of Jacksonville. I notice the 18 wheelers are throwing up water spray; I have missed the local rain shower. This is the closest I have come to "weather" this entire trip. Now, I can feel my destination. I have Jacksonville Beach programmed into the GPS and it maneuvers me around town and thru traffic until I finally reach coast road A1A. The shell station is on my right and I pull into the first pump and stop. Two other bikes are in the parking area. After two days of hard riding, there was Jason! What a shock to me! I mean you know he is going to be there (he flew), but to actually see and talk with him on "BOTH" ends of the country is a bit more than my mind wants to accept. I just left you back there, way back there, didn't I? I have pulled into the Shell Station around 9:45PM, which would be 6:45PM in San Diego. I have traveled across the country in less than 37 hours. Jason explains to me that I am the third person to report in at Jacksonville. Jerry is #2. Number one is the same east-west-east rider that was the first to arrive at San Diego. He made his first coast to coast trip in about 32 hours and I wonder how long this second trip has taken him? This Texan rides seriously FAST… I have arrived with 10 hours to spare before I must start back. No matter what, now I have completed a 50CC. I ride to the Best Western Hotel and check in. I am the first to arrive. After unpacking the bike I go get my sand and water from the Atlantic Ocean. There is no one available to take my photo, but I am too tired to care. I head down to "Sneakers" for a hamburger and a beer. Sneakers is a "sports bar" and reminds me a lot of Coaches back home in Lancaster. Back at the hotel I had a quick shower and realize I now have only 6 hours for sleep. It was the quickest six hours for the whole trip. It seemed like I just closed my eyes and my meany went off. I use a "Screaming Meany" alarm clock. These things are used by the 18 wheel trucking crowd and produce a high pitch scream. It is a real shock to your system, but you will get up when one of these sounds off. I quickly repack my things, turn in my room key and return to the Shell Station. Jason is already there or maybe he has not yet gone to the hotel. He does look pretty frazzled. There are several other bikes in the station parking area. All are east-west-east riders and headed home. I have fueled Yeller the night before so to get a receipt from the station I buy a pack of gum. The receipt is time stamped for 7:44AM and is my official start time. I am not leaving until 8AM. At the time this time difference did not matter. I can ride this USA crossing in 37 hours, RIGHT? We will see!
DAY #3At 8AM Jason signs my witness form and releases me for the return trip. I am the first to leave. Little did I know, I would be the last to arrive at San Diego. I join the morning Jacksonville traffic. We retrace the route back to I-10. The GPS is working overtime and performing well. I am not lost! The radar is on and no officers are out this fine day. My tunes are wonderful and I anticipate a smooth trip home. The traffic is flowing nicely and I cruse thru Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and eastern Texas without a problem. I pass Houston & San Antonio and arrive at Junction TX about 1AM. I am tired and hungry. McDonalds is still open and I decide to get a quick sandwich before they close. One cheese burger is all I order, not even a drink. As I am standing outside by Yeller and munching on the burger, my eyes wander over to the station across the street. I can't believe my eyes. There is Carl, he has refueled and has gone inside to pay. I can't believe he has caught me, I have not stopped all day except for fuel. While on the road I have set the cruise on 5MPH over the posted limit and I did this all day long. How did he get here so quick? I leap on Yeller and wheeze across the street. I ask, "Carl are you continuing on tonight, or do you want to share a room and get some rest"? We elect to share a room. We find a motel in downtown Junction and unpack our things. We remove our riding gear, but don't bother undressing. There are two beds and we each take one. Carl sets his meany and the last thing I asked him was, "do you remember how to shut it off?" Oh yea, he says.
DAY#4Four hours later we are awakened to A God awful screaming. The meany has gone off! You can't believe how loud this clock is. I hear Carl fumbling-fumbling-fumbling with the meany. It seems to go on forever. I turn on the lights and he is finally able to find the off buttons. Thanks Carl, that was refreshing! We repack the wings and within 15 minutes we are on our way. It is still dark out. We are now on I-10 westbound from Junction Texas and I am following Carl. I have set the cruise control on 85, which seems to be Carl's favorite speed. One hundred and forty five miles west of Junction is Texas mile marker 328. I remember it well. The 328 sign is where Yeller came to a complete stop. That was after I smell hot rubber and hear a popping sound. I then feel the rear of the wing go "soft". I have felt this before and my first thought is "oh no, not again". Yes, I have had a blowout at high speed. To the wing's credit, it held a true and straight course down the road, while I let the speed bleed off. I have learned not to apply the breaks at times like this. Bad things can happen if you try to tell the bike what to do. All you should do is concentrate on keeping the wheels under you and the bike upright. When we stop, I notice Carl is gone and we are at an off ramp. It is mile marker 328. There ahead of me is an overpass and on the other side of the interstate is a Fina Station. I decide to look at the tire to determine the extent of the damage. My first problem is the bike will not stand up here because the slope of the road and the flat tire is enough to not allow the side stand to hold the bike up. Yeller wants to fall over. I decide to take him to the station before I take a look at the tire. I restart Yeller and put him in 1st gear. I bump the clutch and walk him down the off ramp, over the overpass and into the station. This whole thing took about 30 minutes and Carl did not return. I now realize I am on my own. I find a shady spot under the awning and put Yeller on the center stand. I have my first look and I am amazed at the tire damage. There is a 6x4 inch piece of tread missing from the right side tread pattern. At that location there is a hole thru the cord about ¾ in. by 4 inches long. There is also a 14 inch split along the right hand side wall. This tire casing is history! I try to decide what to do. I think of calling Jason to report my situation. Maybe he can contact someone from the MTF help list to come to my assistance. I whip out my cell phone only to discover it says "no service". I am in "Nowhereville, Texas"… In the station I discover that their phone is out of order. Now what? I am followed out of the station by a fellow who volunteers the use of his cell phone. It did not work either. He said he had to be in Dallas so he could not help, but his office had a land line that was working. It was about ¼ mile down the dirt road beside the station. I walked to the office and explained my problem to the person on duty. He loaned me the phone and I was able to locate a bike shop with a tire that was the correct size. The shop was located in Midland TX, about 85-90 miles north of my location. They would be open until 5PM. I promised to be there before they closed!
 I returned to my wing and got out my tool bags. I have purchased extra tools so I have two bags. I have my doubts as I start this task when I realize my shop manual is at home and I have never before removed a rear wheel from Yeller. In 5 minutes I am into the rear wheel area and now look for the lug wrench. There is nothing in my bags that will fit the lugs on this wheel! Later I find out Honda has never provided a lug wrench. I return into the station and ask about buying a lug wrench. Today's stations are convenience stores that happen to sell fuel, not service stations that also sell goodies. They have no wrench! I buy a soda and return to the bike. That is when "Bob the Bee Keeper" appeared. He was in the station and heard me ask about a lug wrench. He offered his and I accepted! He helped me remove the tire. It takes two people. The left hand exhaust pipe is in the way so that you can not rotate the lug wench. So, he held the wench against the exhaust and I had to rotate the wheel to break the torque on each of the 5 lugs. We got the wheel off and I packed up all my gear. I put one lug in my pocket and brought my cell phone just in case. Bob drove me to the bottom of the onramp at I-10. He left me there with a fresh jug of water. It was going to get hot in Texas today. I started thumbing a ride and about the 4th car went past me, but turned around and came back. This was driven by a warrant officer in the Air Force and he had to be in El Paso today. He delivered me three miles west to the top of the off ramp at mm-325. I needed to take highway 349 north to Midland TX and mm-325 is where 349 crosses I-10. After several trucks and cars passed me by here on the corner a dump truck driver I'll call Juan stopped to pick me up. He was going another 15 miles before he had to turn off 349 for his job site. Now I am standing at an intersection with no traffic coming by. At least there was very little! I start to realize the enormity of the situation I am in. I am in no danger, but this is going to take some time and the temperature is climbing. A man and lady in a Buick stopped to pick me up and they were going all the way to Midland. Hooray! The man moved to Texas from Littlerock CA. I have property in Littlerock and used to live there myself. These nice people went out of their way to drop me off at the Honda dealer and even offered to pick me up on the road if I was out there, when they finished their shopping. They were headed to Wal-Mart and Lowe's. Midland Powersports had my tire changed in about 45 minutes. Using my cell phone I called Jason to report my situation. I only got his voice box, no Jason! I told the machine that I was going to be late at the finish, but I was going to go to San Diego for my sand and water anyway. I paid the bill and the shop manager had an employee drive me to an auto parts store to purchase a 19mm deep socket and a breaker bar. That would become my reinstallation tool. And, these tools now have a permanent home with Yeller's tool bags. I begged a ride back to 349 South and the shop employee took me there. As I am standing beside the road and cars are passing me by, I realize that 90 degrees in Texas is HOT! I am using the heck out of Bee's water and it is almost gone. A nice man in a SUV stopped to pick me up, but he was planning to stop at Rankin. This town was about 2/3ths of the way to my bike. I said to him, "I am not sure what you have planned for Saturday afternoon, but if you will deliver me to my bike I will fill your tank with gas and give you $40 for your time". He agreed! Back at the bike I had the wheel on and was repacked in no time. This tire mishap has costs me about 8 hours from my schedule. I reason, the 5 hours spent at Junction (sleeping, fueling, eating, etc.) and the 8 hours fixing my tire problem equals 13 hours. I can do the ride in 37 hours plus the 13 equals the 50 hour time limit. I know it will be close at San Diego. Anymore problems and I will be a dreaded DNF, "did not finish". I hunker down and try to stay on the bike except for fuel stops. As I approach El Paso the sun disappears, not because it is night, but because the wind is moving parts of Texas real estate into Mexico. It is really a very bad wind and it made passing the 18 wheelers very hazardous. I am thru El Paso and into New Mexico before it turns dark. As I leave Las Cruces it gets dark and cold. I decide to remain on the bike until my planned fuel stop in Deming. Once there, I can put on extra gear for warmth. At Deming it took me two stations to find a pump that was working. It seems like things are just not going well for me. I finally get it worked out and get back on the road. Deming cost me maybe 10 minutes extra going to the second station. Arizona was a welcome sight and Interstate 8 was even better! As I entered I-8 my GPS recalculated the speed and distance and gave me a blessed message. I now had some time to spare. WOW! At this speed I would be 30 minutes early to San Diego, no I am not! I really need some rest. The 4 hours sleep at Junction has worn off and my eyes want to close. I find a rest stop and chance some shut eye. In twenty minutes I am back on Yeller and feel refreshed. I get all the way into San Diego and get painted with Chip's radar several times, but my resolve to ride just 5 over the limit has paid off. The Chips don't even look as I pass by. I go thru San Diego and pass the hotel where the witness should be. I proceed to Ocean Beach where this thing started 100 hours ago. I stop at the AMPM and buy some gum. The receipt says 06:39, I have made it by 5 minutes. WOW! I go to the beach and fill my third sand and water container. I rode back to the hotel to find the other riders. After the witness signed our forms we returned to the beach for more pictures.
Remember the question, "Several people have asked me why I would want to do endurance riding"? Some have even said, "I would not even attempt to do that 100CCC thing in a car". I have news for them, "neither would I"! I have considered why I attempt these endurance rides and this is the result. There are two reasons!
Robert Higdon is the official scribe of the Iron Butt Rally. He has stated it best when in 2001 he wrote the following about the IBR riders.
Just like the "Little Engine That Could" I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!!!!!
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