Somehow it all started while Dave and I were adding on to his garage. You see Dave had one of those single car garages that included a patio under a roof big enough for two cars. So of course to make room for his growing collection of motorcycles he decided to build some walls and expand what I'd like to call the "stable". With Janet getting a new Bonnie and Jessie getting her license, they were in dire need of the extra space.

Anyhow, Dave and I were discussing one of his favorite subjects: What Triumph Stuff Am I Trying To Get On E-bay?  During this conversation Dave mentioned he found a sweet deal on another Adventurer in New England that looked like it would sell for around $5000 US. Sensing that he might actually want to buy it, I quickly moved to discourage him. My response was to suggest he consider looking for a Trophy as we both like to tackle longer rides and I am a big advocate of the 4-cylinder motor in the Trophy. You see, Dave’s second favorite subject of conversation is: What Have I Done Lately To Make My Adventurer Faster?  This has always seemed strange to me being the owner of two Daytona motorcycles. I mean, when you can buy a bike that has 147HP why try to convert one, right?

Seeds were planted now and Dave quickly found several Trophy motorcycles for sale that caught his eye. Dave purchased a 1996 model from an owner west of Houston in the small town of Katie, Texas, for $4800. Now the question was how to get it home? Seeing as I was available and coincidently one of my girlfriend’s friends was moving to the Dallas area, I volunteered to go and fetch it for him.

Thus started my odyssey...

On a Saturday afternoon my girlfriend Sarah and I arrived at her friend Rebecca’s place to help them pack up the U-haul trailer that would carry her belongings to her new home in Texas. Afterwards I had a few hours to rest as Rebecca needed a few hours to say her goodbyes and have a final family dinner with her parents. I was picked up along I57 at 9:00 that night and we proceeded to head for Texas. After several hours we decided to pull off of the highway and sleep for a couple of hours in a rest area. Once we were slightly rested he continued our journey through Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, and finally into Texas arriving at our destination around 3 a.m. With me having a total of about 3 hours of broken sleep in the last 30 hours I helped them unload their U-haul. After a shower and dinner at a “What A Burger” (Texas?), I managed to get about two more hours of sleep on a couch before leaving to go to a Greyhound bus stop.

Now I know I said she was moving to Dallas but it was really one of the northern burbs, so my first 45 minutes on a greyhound was to the main Dallas terminal at which we arrived at around 1 a.m.  Once I got off the bus I understood why I have never taken a Greyhound before and probably never will again. The terminal in Dallas looked like something out of a movie where some one is about to get murdered. Fortunately I am a pretty big guy with tattoos and most people tend to stay clear of me. At this point I actually have to buy my ticket.  Yes the first bus driver let me on without one when I told him my destination and told me to bring him my ticket after I exited the bus in Dallas (????).

The group heading to Houston was pretty large and required two buses, so of course I was close to the last in line and had to wait an extra hour for the second bus to show up. Then once boarding the bus most of the people had staked their claim to two seats so they could catch some shut eye on the trip. I (not being well traveled on Greyhounds) noticed the two seats directly behind the driver were available with a sign proclaiming that they were designated for handicapped persons. As there were no handicapped individuals on board and no apparent other place to sit I claimed the seats for myself and my tank bag and settled in for the next 5 hours of my journey to Houston.

Now we start with why I will never ever ride a Greyhound bus again. When the driver came on board he informed me I had to move and could not sit in my seat. I protested, stating that there were no other seats open and that no handicapped individuals were on the bus. He never attempted to explain to me that in the post 911 world no one was allowed to sit that close to the driver, something I had no clue of, and insisted I find another place to sit. I bluntly asked him if he was afraid of me or something and asked him to designate a seat I should occupy, hoping he would force another passenger to give up one of their two seats. His only response was to tell me to find another seat or wait for another bus. This was not an option as I was already behind schedule due to waiting on the second bus and was probably going to miss my meeting time with the former owner of Dave’s new wheels. Fortunately an elderly lady allowed me to have the isle seat next to her and we headed out for Houston.

The ride was uneventful and unfortunately I was not able to get any sleep as I had nothing to rest my head against -the disadvantages to being 6’4”. We arrived in Houston just in time for morning rush hour and I spent the last hour of my trip nervously staring at my watch hoping I would make the connecting bus for my last leg to Katie. Fortunately for me and the only good thing I can say about Greyhound was that they have a policy to wait an extra 15 minutes when a connecting bus has not arrived. I managed to get to the bus right before it headed out, thank god, because the next bus to Katie was 6 hours away. About an hour after leaving Houston I arrived at a small gas station that doubled as a bus depot and was happy to see my ride sitting in a late model convertible Corvette. After a quick introduction I hopped in and we proceeded back to his home and Dave’s new bike. We quickly went over the bike and I was given the title as well as a few extra toys he had for the bike.

The odyssey continues....

Approximately 20 minutes after arriving at his home I was on the road again, this time on two wheels. Now if you’ve been keeping track, this is going on 48 hours with only about 3 or 4 hours of broken, in a car, sleep. Oh, and did I mention Rebecca has a Ford  Focus and I am 6 foot plus and about 275 lbs? Despite my fatigue something about being on a motorcycle in the sun shine of Texas immediately rejuvenated me and I headed east with a smile. I know what your thinking, east? Why not north? Well Dave had graciously agreed to let me take a bit of a detour on the way home to forgo the boredom of riding back on the same stretch of road that had brought me to Katie. So I was off to Florida as I had never ridden along the Gulf of Mexico and always considered it a must for a motorcycle journey.

Texas was great and although I still managed to be in the morning rush hour for Houston, you have to love those car pool lanes that include motorcycle traffic. Nothing like doing 80mph when everyone else is stuck in gridlock (hey Illinois.. hint, hint!) Louisiana was also pretty pleasant other than a bit of rain and the realization I was driving over many miles of swamp that did not offer many places to get help in case of a break down But hey, this is a Triumph! What was I thinking,right? My journey continued mostly uneventful through Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, and finally into the pan handle of Florida where I decided to call it a night in Pensacola around 11 P.M.  Finally a hot shower and some real sleep in a real bed.

Now what I haven’t been really mentioning is during this time there was a storm front moving across what seemed to be the entire Midwest that was working it’s way east. I had managed to stay ahead of it while riding due east and only encountered a little rain off of the gulf through Louisiana and Alabama. While preparing to bed down for the night I made a few phone calls, to let everyone know I was alive.  I called Dave to let him know that his bike was still in one piece. While on the phone I was watching the weather channel to see what I was in store for on the next leg of my journey. Atlanta was predicting a record morning rain fall and seeing as it was on my way north I decided to get an early start the next morning and be on the road by 6 A.M.

As if this weren't enough...

Now at this time I need to tell you that I had two agendas when volunteering to go bring Dave’s now Trophy home for him, 1) to ride in as many states as I could on the way back and 2) to accomplish my second iron butt ride. I had already completed my first Iron Butt ride on my Daytona 1200 which was 100 miles within 24 hours and now I wanted to tackle the 1500 miles in 36 hours.

 For those of you that are unfamiliar with the Iron Butt Association, they certify varies distance rides and post their members on their web site as well as provide you with a certificate of your achievement. Also they won’t even sell you a sticker or a t-shirt if you’re not on their list so if you see someone sporting an Iron Butt logo you know they earned it. Anyway, as part of the certification process you need to save all your gas receipts so they can see where you were and at what time, also you need to have a police officer sign a form verifying your odometer reading at both the start and finish.

I wasn’t sure were I would find an officer handy to start my Iron Butt portion of the ride home but as luck would have it, there was a Florida state trooper parked on the side of the road by my on ramp. There was some construction going on in front of him and my original thought was that he was there to protect the construction workers during morning rush hour. Imagine my surprise when I walked up to the squad car to find the officer asleep, not quite sure if I should wake him the decision was made for me by his K9 who was obviously not asleep. I actually apologized for startling him and decided not to say what I was really thinking about him sleeping on the job. After explaining to him what an Iron Butt Ride was and why I need his assistance he verified the odometer and the time and I was on my way back to Chicago with 36 hours to make it.

Back on the road I headed north towards Atlanta on some really beautiful highway and managed to enjoy good weather for the first few hours of my day. Just about the time I was heading out of Atlanta the rain started and continued most of the day. I got a bit of a reprieve from the weather in South Carolina but once into North Carolina it continued and never relented. I will say this though, the Trophy handled superbly in the rain while still maintaining an average speed of around 75mph. I continued on what seemed to becoming a surreal journey now intent on earning my Iron Butt bragging rights if I was going to be deprived of any good weather. I ended the days ride around 10 p.m. in Virginia just short of the D.C. area.  My final day once again started early, this time at about 5:30 a.m. and was free of rain-initially. I was lucky enough to head into D.C. in their morning rush hour and continue through Baltimore in more of the same. Somewhere around my first gas stop I had to once again dawn my rain gear as mother nature would not allow me a full clear day to ride in.

After Maryland came Pennsylvania and what seemed to be some of the prettiest parts of our great country. The tollway through this area has great roads and a few hairy spots that freaked even me out due to the fog. It’s weird to not be able to see more than 50 yards ahead of you. I proceed through a tunnel and on the other side it was like a different world. While still a bit damp I could actually see now and continued my journey west. Ohio was uneventful as was Indiana, at this point I just wanted to make it back home and stay on my schedule of making it to my hometown of Monee, Illinois, by 6 p.m. Aside from stops for gas and to change the CD in my portable player that I brought along, it was nose to the grind stone heading back to Chicago.

I managed to get back to Monee with about 45 minutes to spare, not bad for logging in a little over 1700 miles in my 36 hour window. I tanked up to get my last receipt and proceeded to our little police station to find an officer to verify my odometer.

Once home I called Dave to let him know that I, and more importantly his bike, were home safe. Dave and I met up the following day for me to present him with the newest pony in his stable, and I have to say that after 2300 miles on that bike I am keeping an eye on E-bay myself for one of my own. This is really a great bike and an incredibly underrated value for the prices these bikes are selling for. I saw one on E-bay with 83,000 miles on it already, Dave bought his with about 20,000. Granted I put a few more on it for him but this bike should last him for many a road trip.

Dave has since loaned me the bike for a trip up to Michigan and I jokingly tell him it feels like it’s more mine than his as I have racked up so many miles on it. Thanks Dave for trusting me to bring it back for you and allowing me to take a big detour. I will always consider it one of the best solo rides I have ever taken………