Randy Bishop's Iron Butt Association BunBurner 1500, June 14-15, 2003

My first and only official Iron Butt Association ride was a SaddleSore 1000 back in May 1997. In spite of competing in a Utah 1088 and four Thin Air TTs and riding a couple of 1000-in-24s, it seemed way past due for another IBA ride. I first considered a BunBurner Gold blasting down the Interstate to Flagstaff, Arizona, or to Butte, Montana, and returning. Both of those would be ok, but seemed a little unimaginative and boring. I was then inspired by memories of my first ever 1000-mile day ride to "collect" some neighboring states and started checking the maps. Bingo. It was just a little over 1500 miles from Denver to Utah, to Arizona, to New Mexico, to Oklahoma, to Kansas, to Nebraska, and to Cheyenne, Wyoming. One BunBurner ride that would include the seven states neighboring on Colorado, and would also include a terrific amount of beautiful scenery and some curvy roads.

Plans were made, including the date of June 14-15, 2003, the full-moon weekend closest to the summer solstice. That would provide almost the maximum amount of daylight available and the full moon to light our way at night. Perfect.

So, on Saturday morning at 4 AM, my friend Terry Todd (riding a BMW R1150RT) and I (Kawasaki Concours) gathered our signed forms and receipts and headed west on I-70 into the mountains. It was still dark, the temperature was cool and comfortable, and traffic was very light. Not the most commonly heard description of traveling on I-70. As we came down the hill from Eisenhower Tunnel the full moon was in the Western sky, very picturesquely setting over the Ten Mile Range, a view that took my mind off the chilly air that was making me wish the Kawasaki had heated handgrips like Terry's BMW. As we continued on over Vail Pass I thought to check the thermometer and saw that it was only 38 degrees, a little nippy for sure. However, the cold was quickly forgotten further west as we curved through Glenwood Canyon in the early morning light. It's one of those special places where you pivot your head up, down, and to both sides hoping to save all the pretty views in your memories. After a quick gas stop at Glenwood Springs, and a few more miles down I-70, we got to enjoy another neat canyon road along the Colorado River as the Interstate nears Pallisades and the Book Cliffs. All too soon, our travels through Colorado were over.

But Utah has some great scenery too. We turned off the Interstate just inside the state line to follow a very winding road, again along the Colorado River. This one was just a two-lane road though, with rises and falls, lefts and rights, with spectacular views around every corner. Red cliffs, green trees, blue skies. I actually slowed the pace just to be able to soak in the scenery, and it's a very fun road to ride. At Moab, "corner" #1, where the temperature was now 80 degrees, we filled up at Texaco and headed south. Along US-191 we got to see Wilson Arch (just like the ones at Arches National Park) and at one point were surprised to ride through an area with tall Ponderosa pine trees.

By the time we got to Arizona at noon it was 90 degrees, 52 degrees warmer than Vail Pass. Although it was hot and things looked a little bleak, I wished I had planned a little differently and would have figured a way to include US-163 down through Monument Valley. One of those situations where you want to travel just a little farther, but know you have to leave some roads for another trip.

After a fuel stop at Teec Nos Pos, Arizona, "corner" #2, we entered New Mexico and immediately were greeted with an impressive view of Shiprock off in the distance. The scenic view soon turned into heavy traffic in the town of Shiprock and its neighbor, Farmington. Something we certainly didn't expect, but east of Blanco we were on our own again, climbing into Carson National Forest where the vegetation got larger and greener and where there were lots of bluffs whose edges were softly sculpted sandstone. The road curved through the bluffs and finally climbed up onto a higher level where the temperature dropped back to 80 or so. Nearing Dulce we entered the Jicarilla Apache Indian Reservation where we were riding in impressively pretty pine forests. It seems that many of the Native Americans have ended up with rather poor land, but that isn't the case with the Jicarilla Apache. In addition to being impressed with the land, I was also impressed with the red, white, and blue signs posted every 10 miles or so stating how the Apache support the men and women of the U.S. Armed Forces. Many of them, along with other Native Americans, have served our country very honorably. It made me, a USAF veteran, want to stop and shake someone's hand. At least I was able to return the wave of a couple of teens in Dulce. On down the road at Chama my thoughts became dominated by green chili sauce, causing me to really, really want to stop at Viva Vera's for some enchiladas with some of the best green in New Mexico. Again, something for another trip.

At Tierra Amarilla we discovered one of the best roads on the trip. The 49 miles of US-64 from there to Tres Piedras winds through the southern end of the San Juan mountains, climbing and descending over several high points with great views. The pavement was in good shape, the traffic was light, and the corners came one after another. In other words, it was an almost perfect motorcycling road, one that isn't often included in a long IBA ride.

The next section of road was quite a contrast as we crossed the wide valley leading to Taos. The only distractions from the mostly straight road were the dark storm clouds over the mountains to the east and the strong headwind we encountered. Then as we approached a bridge we were puzzled why so many people would be parked and were walking in the strong wind to stand along the bridge railings. As arrived there ourselves, we understood. At that point the famous Rio Grande river passes through a narrow gorge over 650 feet below the surrounding plains. It was a very impressive view.

At the historic old town of Taos we refueled, joined the traffic jam through the narrow main street, and stopped at Subway for a good IBA dinner, even though my thoughts of green chili sauce made it very difficult to pass the New Mexican restaurants! Quickly on the road again, we continued east on US-64 as it winds up Taos Canyon. This would have been a really fun ride had it not been for the preoccupied driver of a Mercedes that was going way too slow. We eventually found a way by him and increased our speed and lean angles and by the time we came out of the canyon we had caught up with the storm clouds and some light rain. After passing through the valley around Agua Fria and Eagle Nest we headed into another canyon for some more curves and scenery as the road followed the Cimarron River. Summary: US-64 across New Mexico from Bloomfield to Cimarron is a great ride!

As Terry exited the canyon ahead of me he began to wick up the speed. I backed off the throttle because of three vehicles I saw beside the road, and then even put on the brakes a bit as it appeared that one of them was going to pull out in front of me. As I got abreast of them I finally noticed that it was a collection of sheriff deputies and that I had probably inadvertently blocked one of them from pursuing Terry. What a shame. After I was several hundred yards down the road the deputy did however turn his lights on and off just to let us know we had been observed. Or maybe he just hit the switch accidentally.

We were now on the edge of the Great Plains, went through the old Western town of Cimarron, and headed toward more black clouds. As the sun was getting lower in the sky behind us we were treated with a huge, bright rainbow that crossed the sky in front of us. And in our rear view mirrors we could see the sun shining down through a hole in the clouds like a spotlight. Even out on the plains God's handiwork is still easy to see!

By the time we reached I-25 we had ridden into the storm and encountered some heavy rain for twenty miles or so before we continued east at Springer. We briefly stopped to add more layers before heading across the longest 70 miles of the trip toward our planned rest stop at Clayton. I tried to pass the time thinking about the folks that used this route, the Cimarron cut-off of the Santa Fe Trail, but it was just a long stretch of road. We finally reached Clayton around 8:30 pm and quickly took a side trip toward Texas to "collect" another state even though the extra 20 miles wouldn't be documented for the BunBurner. (We also had to take the detour because it's tough for Native Texans such as myself to come so close to our home state without dropping in for at least a minute to say "howdy". You can take the boy out of Texas, but you can't take Texas out of the boy.) By the time we reached Texline it was fully dark so I parked the Concours near the sign with the high beam on to help light our photos. Just as we were starting to snap some pictures two young gals who were on their way from Colorado to San Antonio for the Spur's NBA playoff game stopped too, so we took pictures for each other, then headed back into the night.

After returning to Clayton we refueled, checked into the Super 8, and got 6 hours of sleep. Quite a luxury on an endurance run, but our average speed had been higher than first planned, so we had plenty of time.

We rolled out of town at 5 am as the sun was just beginning to light the horizon. Not far down the road we stopped at the Oklahoma state line, took some photos, and pressed on toward dawn. After rounding a slight bend in the road I checked my mirror and saw our friend the full moon just above the headlight of Terry's BMW. A neat sight. As we continued to travel across the plains memories of the mid-50s, when I was 5-8 years old and lived in the Oklahoma panhandle, were floating by: approaching dust storms that made the entire sky dark brown, oil derricks in every direction lit up at night, our school bus driver giving us a nickel each Friday to buy a snack at a crossroads store, and the pipeline station where we lived way out in the country near Gray. As we passed through Keyes, home of the state 2A cross country champions in 1991-92, I wondered if any of those long distance runners grew up to become long distance riders. Obviously out on those straight highways there was plenty of time to think and ponder.

A few miles later we reached Kansas, the seventh state of the weekend, and took pictures of the state sign, appropriately with a big grain elevator in the background. After some deliberation and riding around we found the detour route to reach Kansas-27 and were flying again. It seems that most of Kansas' highways are in really good condition, and KS-27 didn't disappoint. It was very straight (except at county lines where it almost always took a right-left jog) and the pavement was smooth and wide. Also, on Sunday morning traffic was very light to nonexistent, and we were able to make good time. An amusement along the way were lots of small birds that for some reason liked to hang out along the road. I ducked as several almost hit me. Terry had one bird bounce off his windshield and one off the forehead of his helmet. Made us wonder how that would have felt without a helmet.

The long, straight road didn't end up boring me as I was afraid it would. We passed through interesting small towns, swapped howdies with an elderly motorcyclist at a gas station ("corner" #3), saw lots of neat farm places, and at times could see wheat fields stretching to the horizon and gently blowing in the breeze. America's breadbasket has its own beauty and I was glad to experience it on a sunny summer morning.

Near the top of Kansas we jogged back into Colorado, got some gasoline, ate some snacks, and continued north toward I-76. East of Julesburg we stopped for another photo opportunity at the Nebraska state line, then continued east to document "corner" #4 at Big Springs. After that we were ready for our final blast west on I-80, "blast" being used loosely as there always seem to be plenty of highway patrol officers on the Interstate in Nebraska, including one Camaro that was cruising up the fairly deep median probably heading for a favorite fishing hole.

After the mountain and desert scenery, and even the rural farm scenes in Kansas, I-80 wasn't very stimulating. Finally we reached the Wyoming state line, took some more "here we are" photos, and headed for Cheyenne, the official end point of our BunBurner. After 1500+ miles in 34 hours (including the rest stop in Clayton), we got a little separated in traffic, ended up at different gas stations, but got our receipts, had some other friendly motorcyclists sign our IBA forms, made a couple of phone calls, got reconnected, congratulated each other, and headed back to our homes in the Denver area. Pulling into our neighborhoods almost exactly 36 hours after leaving, our bikes both showed just over 1700 miles. It had been a really great ride.

-- Randy Bishop, Littleton Colorado