Past interviews with the winners have been fascinating. Hope there is one this year as well.
2023 Iron Butt Rally
- Thread starter Shuey
- Start date
Past interviews with the winners have been fascinating. Hope there is one this year as well.
CYYJ
Michael
The Nexus card doesn't save much time once you actually get to interact with a border guard (in either direction), but where it does save you a lot of time is if you hit the border at a busy time, there is usually a reserved lineup for Nexus card holders that is a lot shorter (and that moves a lot faster) than the general purpose lineups.
Michael
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Shuey
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OK, now up on st-owners . . .
www.st-owners.com
Thanks jodog. Great ride and report!
Shuey
My IBR | Ride Reports
While I was under the IBR Social Media blackout I saw several posts on this forum about the IBR, some asking basic questions about format/strategy and others supportive of riders. I can share some of my experiences that will hopefully answer some of those questions. To provide some context, I...
Thanks jodog. Great ride and report!
Shuey
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Shuey
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Finally . . . there's an update report on the IBR site: Road Kill Cafe Selfies.
Shuey
Shuey
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Shuey
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Some rider anecdotes are starting to materialize. Thought ya'll might find this one interesting by . . . 6th place finisher, Bob Lilly (with some minor edits). Reposted with his permission.
Shuey
"Last night we had some record setting rainfall amounts around here. It was
downright nasty with lots of lightning and just massive downpours. I
passed a guy on an RT during one of these storms and it reminded me of that
pile of $#@* I hit in the Dakotas on Leg 2. Felt bad for the guy and was
SOOOOO very happy to be in the cage right then. Been riding since the
finish but have noticed that if the weather looks bad, particularly right
after an IBR, I’ll take the Jeep. That passes after a few months then it’s
back to the bike almost exclusively.
Congrats to all the new vets! And let’s hear some stories! My best was
the leg three rest bonus where I drag all the $#@* off the bike to the
room, slide in the key card, open the door and find a couple sleeping in
the bed. I involuntary exclaimed “holy *****”, but, they never stirred. It
was a booking error that showed they had one room left. Soooooo, all the
$#@* back on the bike to head down the road a mile to another place.
Upside? I didn’t get shot and the second place was $100 cheaper.
Bob
365"
Shuey
"Last night we had some record setting rainfall amounts around here. It was
downright nasty with lots of lightning and just massive downpours. I
passed a guy on an RT during one of these storms and it reminded me of that
pile of $#@* I hit in the Dakotas on Leg 2. Felt bad for the guy and was
SOOOOO very happy to be in the cage right then. Been riding since the
finish but have noticed that if the weather looks bad, particularly right
after an IBR, I’ll take the Jeep. That passes after a few months then it’s
back to the bike almost exclusively.
Congrats to all the new vets! And let’s hear some stories! My best was
the leg three rest bonus where I drag all the $#@* off the bike to the
room, slide in the key card, open the door and find a couple sleeping in
the bed. I involuntary exclaimed “holy *****”, but, they never stirred. It
was a booking error that showed they had one room left. Soooooo, all the
$#@* back on the bike to head down the road a mile to another place.
Upside? I didn’t get shot and the second place was $100 cheaper.
Bob
365"
Last edited:
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Shuey
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More IBR stories are starting to appear . . . thought you might enjoy them too.
Shuey
1st up.
On Jul 20, 2023, Ben Ernst wrote:
aaaaand there it is! The 1st post-IBR nightmare!
Woke up last night in a cold sweat at about 2am. I was headed out to the bonus on Mackinack Island and on the last ferry. Had to run to get the bonus pic and told the ferry staff I'd be right back and needed to be on the return ride. I'm running in full gear... and the dam ferry is
pulling away from the dock. I'm having flashbacks to being 25 yrs old and in dam good shape from playing a ton of basketball . . . so of course I run and attempt to jump from the dock to the ferry. 52 yr old me realizes that 25 yr old body is LONG gone. Nope . . . we bounce off the deck of the ferry and fall into Lake Michigan. I was quickly rescued, but dropped my rally flag and it was on it's way to the bottom . . .
I woke up and started giggling . . .
Good times!
Ben Ernst
IBA #621
2nd up.
On Jul 20, 2023, Gary Huff wrote:
(edited for language)
Glad to hear I'm not alone here. My nightmares after the 2021 IBR were surreal, like Ben's, and mostly involved the clock and other weird $#%@. Not surprising, the nightmares didn't have a hernia while helping a rider pick up their bike, a hooker grabbing my crotch in Fresno, or cutting a deer in half in Montana - all real $#%@ that happened.
Cheers,
Gary Huff
IBA #633
3rd up.
On Jul 25, 2023, Bob Lilley wrote:
(edited for language)
It was the '09 IBR. Bob Higdon had put together a fantastic bonus list consisting of famous and infamous crime scenes. I can't recall the EXACT spot, but there was a church in Birmingham that was the site of a terrible fire-bombing, or explosion, that killed several young women and injured quite a few more. It was back in the 60's and was a racially motivated criminal act. The neighborhood had gotten rough and perhaps that's why the bonus was designated daylight only. I was on a 2003 LT and was heading into Birmingham with the idea that I'd get there at night, do a quick scope out of the bonus before heading to a hotel to get some badly needed rest before popping back at first light to bag the bonus. I cruised past the church and decided to get gas before bagging the hotel. It was a Shell station and honestly, when I pulled in, it looked like any other gas/convenience. Perhaps I was sleep deprived enough that I hadn't seen the crack addicts and other unseemly types hanging out on the fringes of the parking lot. Anyway, I pull up, pop the fuel nozzle into the main tank, click the handle to high flow and head for the back of the bike to retrieve the rally book from my top case. As I'm flipping through the rally book getting details on the church bonus, I start hearing this hissing and popping from the front of the bike. I look up and see fuel gushing out the main tank and flowing down over the hot engine and exhaust!! The goddang auto-shutoff never activated, I lurch for the nozzle and pull it out of the tank while simultaneously trying to click the lever off and it's jammed - fuel spraying everywhere!. I FINALLY got it to stop and I'm standing there covered in gas, bathing in a wonderfully delightful "fuel sauna" as the vapors coming off the bike enveloped me. I
was like "you have GOT to be FRIGING kidding me!" I was just drained - typical IBR $#!%.
About now, a few eyes were on the situation and the attendant comes out onto the lot and yells across something to the effect of "damn pump been doin' that all day". I yelled back - "why the HECK didn't you take it out of service..." or something to that effect. He muttered some wise-assed crack about it wasn't his job or he didn't own the place or some other horsedoodoo. He heads back and retrieves a bag of absorbent and starts heading towards me and the puddle of fuel - WITH A LIT CIGARETTE dangling from his mouth!!! I stopped him about 10 feet away and said "DUDE! Thereis gas everywhere - come any closer and there's a good chance you'll blow the entire block to hell!" He stopped and went back into the store. By now, I just want to get the hell away from this joint and get a shower and some sleep, Button up the bike and hit the starter.....cranking, cranking, cranking, nothing. The overfilled tank had backed up into the charcoal emissions canister and created a vapor lock. “TRUCK ME" I screamed out - I'm certain in a very high decibel rating. Probably everybody who's done the IBR can resonate with the feeling I was experiencing at that exact moment - you're exhausted, you're pissed off, you're irritable, you want to choke the living stuffing out of the next ahole that offers advice of ANY sort, and so on. It was THAT emotional place I was in.
I pushed the bike away from the pumps to a corner of the lot and I called Bob Wooldridge, who at the time was owner of the BMW dealership in Atlanta, and was "on-call" for IBR technical questions. I don't know if that is an accurate statement or not but somehow I remember Bob being available in some fashion to assist BMW riders if needed. He had fellow IBR vet, Glenn Pancoast (RIP, Glenn) call me back. Glenn had several LTs and was pretty familiar with the bike. Glenn told me the situation was "atmospheric" and if I drained enough fuel out, the charcoal canister would dry out and the bike would start once able to get some air. So, under a dimly lit street light in the corner of the lot, I'm rifling through my tool kit for the spare fuel line I'd packed so I could siphon off some gas. I was pretty focused and didn't notice that the crack heads who were hanging about had now taken an interest in me and the LT with all kinds of expensive looking stuff hanging off of it. I heard one of them say something and I looked up and my heart sank - there were 5 of them I think. Most had no teeth, a few were shoeless and wearing no shirt. One of the cretins approached and grabbed my arm and said "gimme $20". A few others started trying to pull the GPS units and phone mounts off the bike while yet another was shaking the stuffing out of the fuel cell, trying to get it off the bike. I knocked the first guy back on his ass and turned and decided that I should put some space between me and them after one brandished a blade, I wrestled my phone from the mount through the fingers of one of the scumbags and walked backwards, keeping eyes on all of them. Until this very day, I cannot tell you why I did what I did next. I decided to call my wife who was back in Pennsy, sound asleep. She picks up the phone and I tell her what's happening and if $#!% gets bad, I'm at this gas station in Birmingham and I love her and the kids and - she cuts me off and screams "CALL 911!". Why didn't I think of that?! I blame it on lack of sleep but clearly, that should've been my 1st call.
"911 dispatch, what's your emergency?" I remember I told the dispatcher where I was and that the situation was not quite yet at "emergency" level but looked like it was heading that way. I honest-to-Christ don't think I even ended the call and four Birmingham PD squad cars rolled into the lot from seemingly four different directions. The druggies scattered like roaches. The first officer to reach me says "what in the TRUCK are you doing here with this thing (the LT) at this time of night? This is a pretty bad area". I said, "well, what the hell do you THINK I am doing here? I was trying to get some friging gas!" I was excited and didn't mean to come off as disrespectful to the guy. I think he sensed my BP was elevated and cut me some slack. We started talking about everything and I could feel the blood finally draining from my temples. He was a younger guy who had just gotten back from a tour with the Marines in the Middle East, The other cops came over and then headed out looking for the guys - based on my descriptions, which were not that great - "4 or 5 homeless looking dudes with no shoes and maybe one by now was sporting a Gerbing heated liner".
The Marine turned LEO hung with me while I siphoned fuel - and you guessed it, the way my evening was going I managed to get a BIG mouthful of premium fuel in the process - so much so that I actually swallowed some. He laughed and said "hell, I've done that so many times with diesel and gas that I thought I'd be $#!%ing flames!" Once the fuel level dropped, I waited about 20-30 minutes and the LT fired. So by now, it's probably 3:30 or 4 am and I head for the hotel which in hindsight, was a waste of money because I was absolutely WIRED out of my mind.
When I saw it getting light, I headed back to the bonus and I must admit, the area looked TOTALLY different in daylight. It could've just been that adrenaline shot we all get when the sun rises during an IBR but the neighborhood didn't look that bad. But the night before, way different story. For $#!%s and grins when you're bored some night, google "Birmingham AL Gas Station Shooting". Seems to be a regular thing in some of those neighborhoods outside BIrmingham proper. Still, my friend John Harrison assures me Birmingham is a great place to live and I'm gonna go with that. Except, I'll add - "in the daytime!"
Bob Lilley
IBA #365
Shuey
1st up.
On Jul 20, 2023, Ben Ernst wrote:
aaaaand there it is! The 1st post-IBR nightmare!
Woke up last night in a cold sweat at about 2am. I was headed out to the bonus on Mackinack Island and on the last ferry. Had to run to get the bonus pic and told the ferry staff I'd be right back and needed to be on the return ride. I'm running in full gear... and the dam ferry is
pulling away from the dock. I'm having flashbacks to being 25 yrs old and in dam good shape from playing a ton of basketball . . . so of course I run and attempt to jump from the dock to the ferry. 52 yr old me realizes that 25 yr old body is LONG gone. Nope . . . we bounce off the deck of the ferry and fall into Lake Michigan. I was quickly rescued, but dropped my rally flag and it was on it's way to the bottom . . .
I woke up and started giggling . . .
Good times!
Ben Ernst
IBA #621
2nd up.
On Jul 20, 2023, Gary Huff wrote:
(edited for language)
Glad to hear I'm not alone here. My nightmares after the 2021 IBR were surreal, like Ben's, and mostly involved the clock and other weird $#%@. Not surprising, the nightmares didn't have a hernia while helping a rider pick up their bike, a hooker grabbing my crotch in Fresno, or cutting a deer in half in Montana - all real $#%@ that happened.
Cheers,
Gary Huff
IBA #633
3rd up.
On Jul 25, 2023, Bob Lilley wrote:
(edited for language)
It was the '09 IBR. Bob Higdon had put together a fantastic bonus list consisting of famous and infamous crime scenes. I can't recall the EXACT spot, but there was a church in Birmingham that was the site of a terrible fire-bombing, or explosion, that killed several young women and injured quite a few more. It was back in the 60's and was a racially motivated criminal act. The neighborhood had gotten rough and perhaps that's why the bonus was designated daylight only. I was on a 2003 LT and was heading into Birmingham with the idea that I'd get there at night, do a quick scope out of the bonus before heading to a hotel to get some badly needed rest before popping back at first light to bag the bonus. I cruised past the church and decided to get gas before bagging the hotel. It was a Shell station and honestly, when I pulled in, it looked like any other gas/convenience. Perhaps I was sleep deprived enough that I hadn't seen the crack addicts and other unseemly types hanging out on the fringes of the parking lot. Anyway, I pull up, pop the fuel nozzle into the main tank, click the handle to high flow and head for the back of the bike to retrieve the rally book from my top case. As I'm flipping through the rally book getting details on the church bonus, I start hearing this hissing and popping from the front of the bike. I look up and see fuel gushing out the main tank and flowing down over the hot engine and exhaust!! The goddang auto-shutoff never activated, I lurch for the nozzle and pull it out of the tank while simultaneously trying to click the lever off and it's jammed - fuel spraying everywhere!. I FINALLY got it to stop and I'm standing there covered in gas, bathing in a wonderfully delightful "fuel sauna" as the vapors coming off the bike enveloped me. I
was like "you have GOT to be FRIGING kidding me!" I was just drained - typical IBR $#!%.
About now, a few eyes were on the situation and the attendant comes out onto the lot and yells across something to the effect of "damn pump been doin' that all day". I yelled back - "why the HECK didn't you take it out of service..." or something to that effect. He muttered some wise-assed crack about it wasn't his job or he didn't own the place or some other horsedoodoo. He heads back and retrieves a bag of absorbent and starts heading towards me and the puddle of fuel - WITH A LIT CIGARETTE dangling from his mouth!!! I stopped him about 10 feet away and said "DUDE! Thereis gas everywhere - come any closer and there's a good chance you'll blow the entire block to hell!" He stopped and went back into the store. By now, I just want to get the hell away from this joint and get a shower and some sleep, Button up the bike and hit the starter.....cranking, cranking, cranking, nothing. The overfilled tank had backed up into the charcoal emissions canister and created a vapor lock. “TRUCK ME" I screamed out - I'm certain in a very high decibel rating. Probably everybody who's done the IBR can resonate with the feeling I was experiencing at that exact moment - you're exhausted, you're pissed off, you're irritable, you want to choke the living stuffing out of the next ahole that offers advice of ANY sort, and so on. It was THAT emotional place I was in.
I pushed the bike away from the pumps to a corner of the lot and I called Bob Wooldridge, who at the time was owner of the BMW dealership in Atlanta, and was "on-call" for IBR technical questions. I don't know if that is an accurate statement or not but somehow I remember Bob being available in some fashion to assist BMW riders if needed. He had fellow IBR vet, Glenn Pancoast (RIP, Glenn) call me back. Glenn had several LTs and was pretty familiar with the bike. Glenn told me the situation was "atmospheric" and if I drained enough fuel out, the charcoal canister would dry out and the bike would start once able to get some air. So, under a dimly lit street light in the corner of the lot, I'm rifling through my tool kit for the spare fuel line I'd packed so I could siphon off some gas. I was pretty focused and didn't notice that the crack heads who were hanging about had now taken an interest in me and the LT with all kinds of expensive looking stuff hanging off of it. I heard one of them say something and I looked up and my heart sank - there were 5 of them I think. Most had no teeth, a few were shoeless and wearing no shirt. One of the cretins approached and grabbed my arm and said "gimme $20". A few others started trying to pull the GPS units and phone mounts off the bike while yet another was shaking the stuffing out of the fuel cell, trying to get it off the bike. I knocked the first guy back on his ass and turned and decided that I should put some space between me and them after one brandished a blade, I wrestled my phone from the mount through the fingers of one of the scumbags and walked backwards, keeping eyes on all of them. Until this very day, I cannot tell you why I did what I did next. I decided to call my wife who was back in Pennsy, sound asleep. She picks up the phone and I tell her what's happening and if $#!% gets bad, I'm at this gas station in Birmingham and I love her and the kids and - she cuts me off and screams "CALL 911!". Why didn't I think of that?! I blame it on lack of sleep but clearly, that should've been my 1st call.
"911 dispatch, what's your emergency?" I remember I told the dispatcher where I was and that the situation was not quite yet at "emergency" level but looked like it was heading that way. I honest-to-Christ don't think I even ended the call and four Birmingham PD squad cars rolled into the lot from seemingly four different directions. The druggies scattered like roaches. The first officer to reach me says "what in the TRUCK are you doing here with this thing (the LT) at this time of night? This is a pretty bad area". I said, "well, what the hell do you THINK I am doing here? I was trying to get some friging gas!" I was excited and didn't mean to come off as disrespectful to the guy. I think he sensed my BP was elevated and cut me some slack. We started talking about everything and I could feel the blood finally draining from my temples. He was a younger guy who had just gotten back from a tour with the Marines in the Middle East, The other cops came over and then headed out looking for the guys - based on my descriptions, which were not that great - "4 or 5 homeless looking dudes with no shoes and maybe one by now was sporting a Gerbing heated liner".
The Marine turned LEO hung with me while I siphoned fuel - and you guessed it, the way my evening was going I managed to get a BIG mouthful of premium fuel in the process - so much so that I actually swallowed some. He laughed and said "hell, I've done that so many times with diesel and gas that I thought I'd be $#!%ing flames!" Once the fuel level dropped, I waited about 20-30 minutes and the LT fired. So by now, it's probably 3:30 or 4 am and I head for the hotel which in hindsight, was a waste of money because I was absolutely WIRED out of my mind.
When I saw it getting light, I headed back to the bonus and I must admit, the area looked TOTALLY different in daylight. It could've just been that adrenaline shot we all get when the sun rises during an IBR but the neighborhood didn't look that bad. But the night before, way different story. For $#!%s and grins when you're bored some night, google "Birmingham AL Gas Station Shooting". Seems to be a regular thing in some of those neighborhoods outside BIrmingham proper. Still, my friend John Harrison assures me Birmingham is a great place to live and I'm gonna go with that. Except, I'll add - "in the daytime!"
Bob Lilley
IBA #365
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Shuey
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Sadlsor
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I'll vouch for the near- nightly shootings in some areas of Birmingham, the city proper (or pauper) is just another Democrat- controlled hellhole, but the rest of the area is mostly civilized.
Many larger cities have their black eyes and Walks of Shame.
I don't live there, I'm 20 miles from the occasional chaos, but the surrounding municipalities are exceedingly more conducive to living a decent life.
John Harrison, for the most of you who don't know him or have never heard of him, is one of the most decent, smart and pleasant people you'll ever hope to meet, and has been involved with the IBR and the IBA for many years.
If you come through Birmingham, I can steer you away from most trouble spots.
Many larger cities have their black eyes and Walks of Shame.
I don't live there, I'm 20 miles from the occasional chaos, but the surrounding municipalities are exceedingly more conducive to living a decent life.
John Harrison, for the most of you who don't know him or have never heard of him, is one of the most decent, smart and pleasant people you'll ever hope to meet, and has been involved with the IBR and the IBA for many years.
If you come through Birmingham, I can steer you away from most trouble spots.
More IBR 2023 pictures are up
tobiestevens.smugmug.com
2023 IBR finish - Tobie Stevens
This gallery hosted by SmugMug; your photos look better here.
tobiestevens.smugmug.com
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Shuey
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For anyone who followed the results of this dramatic IBR, you've noted that the Santa Monica Pier bonus was the key to winning. Here's Dan Stephans' account of his stop there.
"o but I have a bit of a story from the pier. I parked in the underground garage nearby (not terribly nearby) and left my rally pack on the bike. The pack said end of the pier and as I was getting on the pier I ran into another rider who said you can't miss it. So I walked all the way to the end of the pier and there was nothing that looked like an octopus. I wandered around and even went up to the harbor master area but nobody was home. So I asked a vendor if he knew where the octopus was and he said he's worked there for 8 years and never seen an octopus.
I walked all the way back to the bike to grab the rally pack and with the picture in hand it was indeed something you cannot miss (also not at the end of the pier). The bonus was 50 feet directly in front of the vendor I had asked. I wasted too much time walking back and forth so missed my dip in the pacific which was the part that annoyed me the most. =) "
"o but I have a bit of a story from the pier. I parked in the underground garage nearby (not terribly nearby) and left my rally pack on the bike. The pack said end of the pier and as I was getting on the pier I ran into another rider who said you can't miss it. So I walked all the way to the end of the pier and there was nothing that looked like an octopus. I wandered around and even went up to the harbor master area but nobody was home. So I asked a vendor if he knew where the octopus was and he said he's worked there for 8 years and never seen an octopus.
I walked all the way back to the bike to grab the rally pack and with the picture in hand it was indeed something you cannot miss (also not at the end of the pier). The bonus was 50 feet directly in front of the vendor I had asked. I wasted too much time walking back and forth so missed my dip in the pacific which was the part that annoyed me the most. =) "
Is Dan,s writeup available in full or has he sent it to you privately ?
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Shuey
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What you see . . . is what you get. This missive stands alone and not part of a larger write-up. It is reposted here in its entirety with Dan's permission.
Shuey
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Shuey
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What's it like to ride two-up in an IBR?
Chris McGaffin (Irishman from Ireland) road pillion behind Kirsten Talkan-Spaulding for the 2023 IBR and posted up a blog about the experience I think you'll enjoy. They placed 19th overall and . . . were the top Two-up Team! Note this wasn't the first IBR for either one of them as they've ridden IBRs individually several times.
Shuey
Chris McGaffin (Irishman from Ireland) road pillion behind Kirsten Talkan-Spaulding for the 2023 IBR and posted up a blog about the experience I think you'll enjoy. They placed 19th overall and . . . were the top Two-up Team! Note this wasn't the first IBR for either one of them as they've ridden IBRs individually several times.
Shuey
