Let me make it clear this is my first ride report. I ride a lot but have never found myself actually writing about riding or actual rides I've taken. Guess I'd just rather be out riding than writing. Someone bribed me with candy to do this report if you want the honest answer. You may want to keep all this in mind as you read.

Ok, so this is my ride report of my recent “Bun Burner Gold”.  For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about (such as 99.9% of the people I know) it involves riding a motorcycle on any route of your choice so long as it covers at least 1500 miles.  So, what's the big deal, right? Well, it has to be done in less than 24 hours to be certified by the "Iron Butt Association," of which I am a member along with several of my equally insane friends.  I swear I'm not making any of this up if that's what you're thinking at this point.

My riding partner, "RT John," (aptly named since he rides BMW RT bikes) and I decided last month to do the Bun Burner Gold (herein referred to as "BBG" for any lawyer type folks who are reading this at work).  This was my first BBG...woo-hoo! It was RT's third...ho-hum, just another extreme ride for him.  Oh, and by the way, RT is 72 years young.  Given his age and this being his 3rd BBG I'm thinking this has to be an IBA record or something; certainly puts him in elite status in the long distance riding community.

There really wasn't any planning as far as mapping goes to this trip.  The route has been done multiple times by other Phoenix area IBA'ers.  It's simply Phoenix to Ozona, TX which is 750mi away and back to Phoenix.  Several of my friends who have done a myriad of Iron Butt rides all said the BBG is the hardest of all.  Even RT echoes this opinion so I was mentally prepared for the ride.  I've been in a plethora of physically and mentally challenging situations in my life so I had no real concerns as to whether I could accomplish this ride.  I was also confident my chosen bike (Suzuki V-Strom DL1000) would perform flawlessly.

So, RT and I set a date we could both do the ride and chose the date and day with the most favorable weather and traffic conditions in mind.  We departed the gas station in North Phoenix near RT's house at 5:15am on Sat and headed down I-17 with RT leading (this is a rarity as he likes me to lead most of the time).  I think we were on the road less than 10 min when just after merging onto I-10 somehow I found myself engulfed in newspaper that a passing truck had kicked up off the ground.  I guess an I-10 traveler had decided they were done reading the Arizona Republic and had tossed it.  I really don't know.  I do know it seemed like I had the Sports section wrapped around the brake pedal, the Living section around the left passenger peg, the Classifieds wrapped around my right boot, Real Estate on the left crash bar, ...let's just say my black bike was more "newspaper" than black.  Even at 65mph I managed to free most of the pages while negotiating subsequent lane changes but could still see some was caught below the bike.  I radioed RT what was happening and that I'd be passing him so he could surmise the situation and determine if pulling over at the next exit was in order.  I'm thinking, oh great, we're not even out of the city limits and I'm having to stop! RT said he could see the newspaper but that'd it would be ok.  I had visions of the newspaper on a hot engine and flames shooting everywhere.  Remember, this was 5am and I wasn't awake.  Thankfully, the paper did free itself a few miles down the road.  So onward we go.

RT and I had agreed what our overall cruising speed was going to be prior to departure.  Once we got past the newspaper dilemma I could tell RT had set his cruise control...except his speedo was off at least 5mph according to my GPS so I hit the radio to let him know, despite the fine engineering of his beloved BMW RT, that the GPS satellites were more accurate and too kick it up a bit (ok, it was something to that affect).  I didn't get his response to me because I no sooner had finished my sentence than the cord connecting the CB radio as well as my helmet microphone became disconnected and were flying around in front of me.  Yes, something else flying unexpectedly around me! The turbulence was apparently too much for the cords to handle.  Trying to blindly reconnect the cords into the radio, which was in a bag behind me, seemed futile (oh, so you think you could have done this w/gloves on and all, huh?) so onward we went unable to verbally communicate.  He had just come up w/this CB setup the night before and we had not road tested it (you IBA'ers will quickly point out this is in violation of Tip #13, "do not add things to your bike leading up to departure").  Ok, ok, I learned this AGAIN (some of us are, well, slow-learners.  Perhaps just rebels.  Maybe even slow-learning rebels?).  Since I couldn't verbally tell RT the radio was toast I just pulled up beside him and held up the unplugged ends.  He motioned "forget it, let's just ride".  I doubt a sign-language interpreter would have understood that's what RT was saying, but being his riding partner I knew that's exactly what he said.

Thankfully RT did hear my last and final radio transmission and adjusted his throttle to match our intended MPH plan.  With flying newspapers and cords behind us (literally) I'm feeling like it's time to get settled in for the ride.  We're now a whopping 25 miles into a 1500mi trip.  The sun is not even up, but neither am I.  We're now out of Phoenix metro and heading into open land, traffic is very light, a full moon to our right (or west depending on how you think) is starting to give way to the dawn of a new day.  I recall thinking not many things get me out of bed at this time of day.  In fact I can only think of two: fire and going riding.  We quickly approached and passed an SUV with dark tinted windows.  Once passed I saw in my mirror that the SUV was now quickly gaining speed back to us.  I'm thinking only complete whackos are up at this hour on a Sat morning and here comes one charging up beside us! It caught up and stayed directly beside me, not RT, for enough time to elapse that I was getting very concerned.  I glanced repeatedly but could see nothing thru the dark windows.  I was just about ready to make a move when the passenger window rolls down and I see a backseat full of young kids who are going nuts whooping & waving and giving me the thumbs up sign.  I gave them a thumbs up in return and laughed mainly out of relief.  I needed to laugh after the newspaper & radio stuff.  For those of you who don't know me, my helmets and bikes are clearly marked identifying me as female.  I have no doubt this is the reason for the kids' extra enthusiasm as I get this response frequently and it is the very reason I like promoting that girls too can ride.

We continued on I-10 towards our first stop of Benson, AZ.  I'll say that it was this stretch of the trip that I was very thankful I chose not to wear my mesh jacket as I was chilly even w/a heavier jacket (though let me make it very clear this was nothing like the "chilly" I experienced on the same road with Kent in 22degrees!).  RT's bike is equipped w/heated grips and he wears heated gear so he couldn't care less what the temp is outside since his BMW world is temperature controlled.  Anywho, we had planned every gas stop down to the exact exit, exact station.  In a ride like this you can't afford to guess where the next station is not only because the distance between exits w/gas can be upwards of 50+ miles but also because time is of the essence.  For those of you who are still reading AND are not motorcyclists I'm sure you're reeeeally wanting to know why the hell would anyone want to ride 1500+ miles on a motorcycle (or horse or airplane or anything else that moves for that matter) nonstop for 24 hours.... the answer is quite simple: If I have to explain it you wouldn't understand anyway.  I can't speak for other IBA'ers but for me long distance riding provides an opportunity to learn more about myself, the bike I'm riding, equipment and gear I've chosen, and well, where the best candy is located.  (It really is about the candy ya know.) Seriously speaking, "vision quest" comes to mind when thinking about how to explain why I participate in "extreme" events.  One thing is for sure, it challenges your definitions of what "far" or "tired" means and definitely creates a hyperfocus on the very basics of existence like food, hydration and your gas gauge.  You take those for granted on this ride and you will likely not successfully complete it.  This BBG ride also provided the opportunity for me & RT to get even more familiar riding together since we have plans to do the USA Four Corner ride late summer (for my non-riding friends you don't really want to know what this entails).

We left Benson, AZ and headed for our next stop which was Deming, NM.  We passed several exit signs stating National Monuments or Historical Sites and RT would point to them as we are also doing a National Park Passport tour as well (visit 50 parks in 25 states in a year).  I thought we must be really addicted to riding if we're planning our next ride while we're currently riding.  On the way to Deming is when I recall feeling completely awake.  I'm just not a morning person.

After Deming we headed for Sierra Blanca, TX which required us to go thru Las Cruces, NM and El Paso, TX and would put us well over 500mi, or a third of the trip.  El Paso had lunch time traffic that was moderate, nothing that held us up though.  Not too far past El Paso it looked like we were in a for a delay as a Border Patrol check point was very active and brought interstate traffic to a stop.  I guess they determined I couldn't possibly smuggle a person into my Givi bag on the bike so they motioned us thru.  Once past the checkpoint we were back on wide open land with very sparse traffic.  Actually there were a few times during this stretch that RT and I were the only signs of life on either side of the interstate, or as Texas calls it "IH-10" (Interstate Highway 10).  We arrived at our Sierra Blanca stop without incident and on schedule.  While filling up with gas I was approached by a man who was very interested in my bike.  He asked where I was headed and after stumbling for an answer that someone from the general public could possibly understand about what I was actually doing I simply replied "wherever my riding partner leads me." He laughed and said he was seriously considering buying a bike like mine and talked very excitedly about what he had heard about the bike. Normally I would have loved to talk w/him but I was executing a plan, one that involved an exact procedure at gas stops so as to accomplish the necessities and doing so within a time frame.  I felt bad I couldn't share his enthusiasm and answer all his questions but I wished him luck and refocused on issues at hand, namely peeling off layers of gear.  When we left Phoenix my GPS read 56 degrees.  It now read 86.

Let me say at this point in case you're thinking we stopped for lunch or caught a movie or such we did NOT.  This is a "Go ride" meaning, well, you GO, and GO, and GO.  Remember, it's 1500+mi in less than 24hrs.  Given my bike had the smaller of the 2 tanks we planned our gas stops based on it's mileage range which meant we were stopping about every 3hrs.  So, ride for a/b 3hrs, stop for less then 10min, ride 3hrs, stop for less than 10min, etc.  The 10min is used filling up with gas, recording odometer info, making gear/bike adjustments, making sure receipts are secured, etc.  Hydration and eating is done on the bike while en route (CamelBaks rule!) and pre-ride planning is a key to success.  Oh, and it was obvious that RT's flip-up helmet had an advantage in this area. 

We left Sierra Blanca, TX and headed for Fort Stockton, TX.  This is where I started noticing dead deer carcasses just off the road.  I've heard horror stories a/b West TX deer and motorcycles collisions.  I knew we'd be passing back thru this exact stretch of road hours later but doing so in darkness.

As we approached Fort Stockton, RT signaled that his radar had picked up a LEO (Law Enforcement Officer for those who don't have their moto code book handy).  Sure enough, a TX Trooper soon appeared.  A few minutes later RT signaled again.  Then again.  Then again.  I don't know what was happening around Ft. Stockton but it was under heavy patrol.  LEO would pass us on the West bound side, then turn around in the median.  At the gas station in Ft. Stockton RT advised me they were using "instant on" radar which means essentially once you pick up the signal it's too late.  We made it thru LEO zone and were now staring down Ozona zone, our halfway mark and turnaround point.

The ride from Ft. Stockton to Ozona was the hottest of the entire trip.  My GPS hit 93 at one point.  I consumed my entire CamelBak (70oz) in this stretch.  I refilled it once in Ozona then proceeded to drink another 70oz before El Paso. Having been a competing athlete for most my life I know the value of hydration.  I noticed RT wasn't consuming fluids as frequently and this later became a factor.  Aside from the heat, it was incredibly windy on the way to Ozona but thankfully it was a tailwind; the kind of tailwind a sailboat owner would drool over.  As we were approaching Ozona I saw not only were we ahead of schedule but we were also nearing 800mi for the trip.  It seemed odd that we were above the 750mi turn around mark but I figured out that by starting in No. Phoenix where RT lives we had added extra mileage.  That fact plus the fact that I had to ride back to my house (which is on the far west side of Phoenix or "near the CA border" as my friends joke) equaled this ultimately being well over a 1600mi trip for me.  Oh geez, this was a surprising reality but one that didn't really have much of an impact.  I mean, what was I going to do about it now? Say an extra hundred miles is too hard and just check in at the next motel? I just figured I'd get extra credit for being extra crazy.

When we reached Ozona RT asked if I wanted to take an extended break.  I suggested we keep riding for several reasons including spending as minimal time as possible in TX at night w/the deer and also because the speed limit drops from 75mph to 70mph at night in TX.  Aside from those issues, the fact that the severe tailwind was now going to be a severe headwind presented unknown issues.  So, we pushed on.  By the way, my bike's gas mileage averages 42mpg.  That tailwind section was 52mpg.  Sweeeeeeet.

So, we left Ozona heading back towards Phoenix.  It was rather odd to be passing the very things I had *just* past on the other side of the road.  Since we were now on the West bound side of I-10 we're riding directly into the setting sun.  I've been all over this country and nothing prettier or brighter than a West Coast sunset.  However, having been on a motorcycle for over 11 hours at this point, my eyes were not seeing the beauty as much as straining from the brightness.  The headwind was quickly taking a toll on me too.  My bike's fairing protection rivals what riding a horse would give you in terms of weather protection... as in zero.  The BMW RT is like a cocoon so Mr BMW man over there had no complaints.  Our next planned stop was Kent, TX which was 180mi away.  While en route I watched my gas gauge plummet like there was a leak.  At 160mi my gas gauge started flashing.  Uh-oh.  That dang headwind.  I rode past RT and pointed to my gas tank, took the lead and slowed down.  We were in nowhereville (which adequately describes most of what I experienced on IH-10 in TX) and Kent,TX was the closest stop with gas.  The sun had just set as well.  I wasn't freaked out since RT and I both run with siphons and since we were ahead of schedule we would be fine if his big honkin' BMW tank had to loan my V-Strom some petrol.  For me usually a flashing gas light brings a smile as one of my sportbike friends calls it "the wheelie light" but this wasn't the case on a BBG ride in nowhereville TX in searing heat and a relentless headwind.  Despite my GPS indicating Kent was less than 6mi I was so sure running out of gas was inevitable that I had already visualized pulling off the road and preparing to siphon.  Except this visual became difficult when suddenly the sparsely populated 2 west bound lanes merged with IH-25 and became a 1 lane of road construction.  IH-25 must be a major trucking route as they were now in front and behind us and stacked.  A concrete road barrier lined our right and left sides meaning there would be no place for me to pull off.  I rode right on the tail of, ironically, a truck based out of Phoenix, hoping to extend my trip (if not my life).  RT had surmised the situation and had backed way off from me to slow the trucks down thru this construction zone should I indeed run out and have no place to pull over.  We approached a hill and I figured this would do me in.  I couldn't see around the truck but when we started up the hill I thought either I'm hallucinating or I just saw a Chevron sign at the top.  Sure enough, there was another exit in Kent prior to the one we had for our planned stop.  I didn't even stop at the stop sign after exiting the highway I just gunned it up the hill and coasted in.  Whew.  That was too dang close for me.  Filled up and calculated my mileage---that stylin' 52mpg tailwind was now a brick wall 34mpg headwind.  Yikes.  RT and I discussed alternative plans to our next planned stop of Las Cruces, NM.  He suggested we back off the throttle and run behind the trucks,especially since it was now dark the and the speed limit was 70mph anyway, and possibly stop in El Paso for gas instead of Las Cruces.  So that's what we did.

After refueling I felt better and we headed back out.  That feeling was abruptly interrupted after we merged back onto the 1 lane construction when my headlight picked up Bambi and all her best friends grazing on the side of the road.  Oh great.  The ride to El Paso was my least favorite part since I can't stand riding behind big trucks especially at night.  But between the deer and the headwind the trucks were actually blazing a path for us.  When we reached El Paso my gas gauge agreed w/RT's suggestion in Kent re the trucks and I pulled up beside him to say we could make it to Las Cruces.  If you're wondering, how does one communicate this going 70mph at night then you're not alone.  I really have no idea either.  But RT knew what I was trying to say. 

We pulled into the Las Cruces, NM gas station at 10:30pm.  That would be Arizona time.  We were in 3 time zones during the trip---Arizona, Mountain, and Central.  For those of you who are not aware, Arizona does not recognize daylight savings time.  This means at any time of year 99.9% of Arizona residents can't accurately answer which time zone AZ belongs to.  They usually say something like "the one that's the hottest?" Anyway, up until now our gas receipts have all been good, meaning the pay-at-the-pump generated receipts had the date, time, station address &info, etc.  Some even have catchy expressions like "travel with the best" or "your bike's tank may suck but our gas does not" (ok, so I made that one up but you get the idea).  Well, after refueling and obtaining my receipt in Las Cruces I notice the receipt did not list a time.  RT is walking towards me to say his pump didn't even generate a receipt.  So we walk inside only to find the person behind the counter is not exactly bilingual.  I recall thinking good thing I have the last 18hrs of experience getting my point across w/ hand signals.  She gave us both new receipts except they too didn't have a time stamp.  I told RT that I was sure that the IBA rules state a time stamp is only absolutely required on the beginning and end gas receipts.  I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with less so we tried to at first explain we needed a receipt w/the time on it.  I'm confident she only understood the "time" part as she kept telling me what time it was.  I decided to take an alternative route around the problem and do what is acceptable by the IBA which is obtain the station phone number so if needed they can call and verify that indeed the gas station does not generate receipts that are time stamped.  Well, extracting this information wasn't easy either.  I still can't figure out how "what's the phone number here" can be mistranslated and responded with the stations zip code.  Repeatedly.  I was ready to start saying burrito or taco or start throwing something nearby when another employee appeared and gave us the phone number.  At least I think it was the station's phone number.  For all I know it was her personal phone number.  I wish the IBA verification team the best of luck with that communication if it's deemed necessary.

Walking back out to the bikes RT suggested we take an extended break and get something to eat in Tucson since we were making excellent time.  Our next gas stop was going to be Willcox,AZ and the last one before Phoenix so it seemed like a good idea though I wasn't sure if after actually sitting down on something that wasn't moving if it would make it harder to get back up and finish.

Before leaving Las Cruces we both made gear adjustments since the temperature was dropping fast.  My GPS read 51.  En route to Willcox it seemed like the road was lined with rabbits who were eating whatever vegetation was on the side of the road.  You could see them for a split second before they heard us and their huge ears perked up.  These bunnies were quite cute but I recall thinking several times I could eat a rabbit about now.

As we approached the Arizona border the "Welcome to Arizona" sign was, well, a welcomed site.  For some reason it sparked an enthusiasm in me; perhaps because it meant the ride was nearing successful completion.  I can't really explain it but I just wasn't tired.  I think I was expecting to be in a fatigued stupor or something very different from what I was experiencing.  The temps were now hovering over 43 so the nip in the air kept me very alert anyway.

Everyone I know who has done the BBG told me the last 200-300 miles are the toughest.  I move around a lot on my bike when on a "GO" ride so I don't get stiff but what I was experiencing was not stiffness.  I thought it might be more like a comfortably numb (not exactly of the Pink Floyd variety though) if that makes any sense.  Maybe a comfortable hum better describes it.  The hum got stronger the closer we got to Phoenix and I realized it was the hum of adrenaline.  I didn't just know we were going to finish, and finish well, but I *felt* it.  That was the hum.  The hum is why I couldn't sit still, not the numb.  I couldn't have been more awake and alert.

We made it to Willcox without incident.  Traffic was sparse and I hadn't seen another bike on the road for quite a while. . . probably being in the middle of the desert and the middle of the night had something to do w/this.  Once refueled, we decided to take our extended break right there especially since it was a truck stop w/a 24hr diner.  We got something hot to eat and drink and that alone was recharging.  My only physical issue was my neck was somewhat sore I think from the restricted movement of the helmet extending my head back over the last 20hrs.  During our 31min stop we determined we only needed 120mi to complete the 1500 and we had 4 hours left to do it.  RT said he was quite fatigued and he seemed every bit so.  Not drinking enough fluids was a culprit in retrospect.  If either of us had said we were not able to safely proceed then we would have stopped even if it meant not finishing the BBG.  Safety is a top priority for me because I love to ride and want to ensure as much as possible that I can do so tomorrow.  He said he'd be fine but wanted me to take the lead, which I did.

Approaching Tucson I saw a sea of emergency lights so intense one could only assume the highway was shut down for an accident.  I was planning for an alternate route on side roads until as we got closer and saw it was indeed a wreck but it was just above us on a bridge overpass.  Whew.  Got thru Tucson and as when we passed Eloy my GPS said we had hit 1500mi exactly.  I was even more jacked up knowing I had done the BBG.  At 4am we arrived and fueled up in Chandler, which is just south of Phoenix.  When we got back onto I-10 towards the final gas stop near RT's house we came upon a massive accident that shut down all but 2 lanes of traffic.  We made it thru the scene and made it to junction of I-17 only to come upon another multi-vehicle accident that also had lane closures.  Finally, a few exits b/f RT's there was yet a 3rd wreck with lane closures.  These reminded me we were very lucky to have avoided serious traffic issues for the entire trip. 

We pulled into the same gas station we had started our trip almost 24hrs prior.  We even used the same pumps.  Everything was the same except, according to my GPS, we had traveled 1608 miles.  Our end witnesses signed our IBA forms and all documentation paperwork was secured.  I said good-bye to RT and headed for my house.  When I pulled into my driveway my GPS read 1631mi.  I pulled in to my garage, took my gear and a bazillion bugs off, took a hot shower and went to bed.  I slept 6hrs, awoke, then did what any other hard-core motorcycle rider/addict would do: went riding.  That's right, a friend of mine asked if I wanted to go riding and eat brunch.  "Sure", I replied, "mind if we stay in Arizona though." I only rode 50mi that day (it actually felt good to be on a sportbike too!) and relished in my accomplishment of the BBG.  Come to think of it, I'm still relishing.  Perhaps it's the relishing and the memories that fuel the plans for the next adventure.  Stay tuned.....


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