The Long Road Home

We bid our adieus to Murph who was heading for northern climes,  climbed aboard our bikes, and  I set the GPS for "Go Home."  The log said 2,486 km to go. We left the parking lot of the Hampton in Rapid City, SD on Wednesday morning just after 7 am.  I arrived back on my door step two days later at 1:15 am! (OK, technically I entered the third day- but no break from the ride makes it 'home in two' - an Iron Butt Ride to be sure.)  The weather was first class, low 20s with plenty of sunshine.  We ran all the way to Iowa City on Day One, about 1,250 km.  When I dismounted at the hotel, it was late (9:30) and we were both tired but happy to make it so far.  Organizing my riding gear, I discovered that my right saddlebag was jammed.  I assumed the lock was at fault, as there has been a rare recall on this very item on these bikes, but discovered later that it was my fault.

I made a late-night call to a Delphi Stratoliner forum pal, RW, a modest, particularly helpful and extremely knowledgeable and resourceful Yamaha owner  "What the hell was the solution to the locked bag issue, Rich?" "Knock out the hinge pins," he replied.   Evil had figured out by looking at the unlocked bag that there is a pin in each end of the hinge. But we simply didn't have the tools for the job. With 16% battery left in my iPad (the charger being, naturally, locked in the starboard-side saddlebag) I located Yamaha dealer Iowa City Motorsports and we headed straight there next morning. The very helpful tech Oliver knocked out the pins with the proper tools, popped off the lock and we could see that a plastic bag (containing all my electronics and camera gear) had fouled the exposed locking mechanism. The lock was destroyed and as none were in stock, I secured the bag cover with a bungee cord.  The dealer was the embodiment of iconic mid-western hospitality: close to an hour of the tech's time, and no charge. Gracias!

Evil and I lost each other in Chicago, but I connected with him after we got home and we figured out what went wrong.  Chicago is the Bermuda Triangle of the route to the American northwest. We arrived in Chicago at about 2 p.m., and it was high-speeds, close quarters, and lots of construction.  At one point there was a concrete barrier and at about 110 kmh you had to choose which side to take.  Each led to I-94 Eastbound, but the roads didn't converge for some miles. I went right and Evil went left.  With the density and speed of traffic, there was no turning back.  It was the last we saw of each other until we after got home.

Before and all the way after Chicago, there are many more fuel stops compared to the vast spaces in the mid-west, and I was able to keep a good pace without worrying too much about fuel conservation.

I reached the Bluewater Bridge in Port Huron, Michigan at 9:00 p.m., about an hour after Evil as it turns out. His bike is substantially easier on gas (it's a semi-bobber, much lighter though running the same 1.9 litre engine) so he had fewer fuel stops to make.  I took more leisurely stops as well, at this point.  But fatigue had not set in.  I paid the $3 toll to get back to Canada ("That's a beautiful motorcycle you have there," said the attendant- nice welcome!).  My Nexus card worked its magic at the border and by 9:05 I was back in my homeland. I love Canada.  Americans and America have a lot to offer, but there's no place like home.   The GPS said 308 km to home from Sarnia. No sense hangin' around, I"ve still got some riding to do!

At my last fuel stop in Woodstock, ON, I met a real cool couple on a Hog.  They, too, had come all the way Iowa on this last day, coming as well from Sturgis.  I promised I would visit them at their home in Uxbridge, and will indeed follow up on that.

It was a remarkable road trip, 6,550 km in total (4,007 mi.) to attend Sturgis for the Black Hills Motor Classic.  Whether you go there for the rally or at another time to enjoy the region, whether by motorcycle or other transport, you are in for the best of times in a fabulous part of America. I'll be back.