Interview with George Barns, Iron Butt Rally Winner, 1999 As the winner ofthe 1999 Iron Butt Rally many people have asked me many questions about my ride. Along with the expected questions, (how much did you sleep? how fast did you ride?) the most common are "What did you do differently than the other 98 entrants?" and "How did you manage to ride over 13,000 miles in 11 days?" I have thought long and hard about these questions and, I think, have finally arrived at some answers. My '97 K1100LT broke down while I was in 2nd place half way through the 1997 Iron Butt. From that day on I was constantly thinking about the 99 rally. I developed a strategy that encompassed three phases: planning, preparation and execution. I wanted to win the rally, and I wanted to do it on the same bike that let me down in 97. In retrospect, I believe that this attitude is the primary reason for my success in the 99 rally. I developed a mindset that I would win. By the time the rally started, I had completely convinced myself that I would be victorious. Nothing was going to stop me. It may be a cocky attitude, but it is, I believe, an attitude that winners of many contests share. The next step, after convincing myself of the outcome, was to develop a plan that would achieve the desired results. I improved my physical condition by losing 30 pounds before the rally. I also stopped consuming caffeine two months before the rally. However, I believe that doing well in endurance riding is primarily a mental challenge and I worked on that as well. I would constantly visualize getting bonuses, overcoming fatigue and getting by on less sleep than I normally need. Along with practicing route planning, I studied maps of the US and Canada. I was not trying to memorize roads; just trying to familiarize myself with the relationships between cities and states in areas I was not familiar with. I developed and practiced systems that would help me avoid wasting time while getting gas, going to the bathroom and getting sleep. I came up with scripts that I would recite before stopping. For a gas stop it went something like: Pull up to the left side of the pump; dismount and put the bike on the centerstand; unplug helmet headset cord; take off gloves; walk around back of bike while opening auxiliary fuel tank cap; put credit card in pump while taking nozzle off of pump; move tankbag over while filling auxiliary tank. Using this script, and with a lot of practice, I could consistently take on a full load of gas (10.7 gallons), fill out my log, secure my receipt and be on the road and up to speed in under 7 minutes. I had similar scripts for getting sleep and stopping for bonus photos and I constantly went over them in my mind. I looked at the Iron Butt as eleven 24-hour rallies stuck together. I've had success in many one-day rallies and was trying to apply the same winning techniques to the Iron Butt. Prior to the rally I developed a plan to handle how I would pick bonuses. I bought a lap top computer and installed Auto Map, an old, but fast, mapping program. Before the rally I created 4 journeys or routes, each corresponding to a leg of the rally. When I received my bonus lists, (at the start and checkpoints) I would enter the bonuses I was considering into the route. The computer would instantly give me the mileage necessary to complete that route. Before leaving home I made up cards showing the time allowed for each leg. I would divide the distance of my proposed route by the allowed time, and would get a miles-per-hour figure that I must maintain in order to get to the next check in time. While underway, I used the overall average speed window on my Street Pilot GPS unit to verify that I was traveling at a rate above the necessary speed. I have been asked a number of times how I knew what overall speed I could maintain. The only answer I can give is that it has taken almost 20 years of endurance riding, competitive and otherwise, to figure that out. I'm sure it is different for every rider, but I've found that this number can be increased with very disciplined stops and the proper mental attitude. I was able to maintain an average slightly above 60 mph, including stops for gas, sleep and food. My pre-determined strategy called for me to be in the top 25% at check one; the top 10% at check two; in the top 3 by check three and, as stated, first at the finish. Preferably, I wanted to be higher than 3rd by the Florida check, but would settle for less. I used this plan to help determine which bonuses I would attempt on each leg. In the summer of 99 the bike was in pretty good shape. I had an annual service done in July and asked Mike, the BMW mechanic at All Sports Honda/BMW in Grand Junction, to look it over closely with the Iron Butt in mind, (it had 83,200 miles on it when I left for Ojai). I then added the Garmin Street Pilot GPS unit and a CB /intercom system. I already had a radar detector, but upgraded it to a Valentine One. When I bought the bike in 97 I had installed an electrically operated cold water drinking system, which proved invaluable. I changed the front tire, a Dunlop 591, the day before leaving for California, and arranged to get a rear tire, a Dunlop 491, installed at StarCycle, a shop close to Ojai. Along with shipping myself a care package of clean clothes and Polaroid film to the check in Maine, and making some motel reservations, I was set. Although the GPS had a fairly extensive map, as did AutoMap, I took along a full set of AAA paper maps; all of the regional maps and one of the entire US. My clothing consisted of three pairs of light weight cotton sweat pants that I wore under my Aerotstitch, a couple of tee shirts, short & long sleeve, and some socks. I also had a Gerbing electric jacket, a Tour Master two piece rain suit and one pair each of heavy and lightweight gloves. My boots were waterproof Gortex from BMW. I had reservations at one of the nicer motels near the start in Ojai. I made sure before making them that they had a pool. I make it a point of swimming an hour or so each day for a few days before a rally in order to help me sleep. The anxiety or pre-rally excitement can often keep me awake. THE RIDE Routing of the first leg was pretty straightforward; I didn't want to go to the tar pits in Los Angeles and I didn't want to travel up the West Coast. I also wanted to avoid the traffic mess known as Sequoia National Park. As the 99 entrants left Ojai in various directions, I headed into the desert toward Nevada and Utah, feeling very relaxed and confident. On the way to the first check I saw a number of my fellow competitors. Everyone was smiling and having a great time. When I pulled into a gas station in Cedar City for a receipt bonus, Gary Eagan and Rick Morrison (winners of the 95 & 97 rallies, respectively, friends of mine and both riding 1100LTs) were standing by the pumps laughing at me. I asked what was so funny. Rick said You, and us. I told him I didn't understand. Gary said, I dont think I could get a four year degree, but I could definitely get an AA in the time well have before the check opens. It was priceless Eagan. I rode the first leg straight through to Kennewick, Washington, 1500-plus miles in 22 hours. I had Eggs Benedict for breakfast at a Dennys, got a motel room and managed to get 6 hours sleep before the check opened. Shortly after receiving my bonus list for the second leg of the rally I realized that a ride to Plano, Texas, for a stop at Ron Ayers home, was necessary to do well on that section. I added two bonuses in Utah and another, 80 miles from my home in Colorado, and came up with an average necessary speed of 45.3 mph, which was a fairly sedate pace. I wrote out a route sheet on a steno pad, packed up and got ready to leave. The whole process, from the time I was handed my bonus pack to the time I was walking out the motel room, took a little under an hour About 5 hours into the second leg I stopped and helped Rick and Gary plug a hole in the rear tire on Ricks LT. They had been there a few minutes and werent having any success with the BMW tire plugs. We used my Stop N Go plug gun and had the bike on the road within a few minutes. At a bonus near Vernal, Utah, I let something happen I told myself I wouldnt; I allowed another entrant to persuade me that my plan wouldnt work. Shane Smith, from Mississippi riding an ST 1100, told me he didnt think we could do the Canyonlands bonus and still get to Ron Ayers home in time. I found myself agreeing with him. As I rode toward the next bonus I began to doubt Shanes assertion. I pulled off in a small town in Colorado, booted up the computer and re-did the math. I re-convinced myself that I could accomplish my original plan, and I headed back into Utah towards Canyonlands National Park. A little after midnight on Wednesday I stopped and slept for 1-½ hours on the way to Texas. Later in the day, after lunch at Ron Ayers home, I headed north and east towards Tennessee. I got tired in east Texas and, failing to find a rest area, pulled off and parked in the shade of some trees. The weather was warm and sunny so I took off my Aerostich before lying down, using my bike cover as a ground cloth. I set my sleep timer for one hour, and was quickly asleep. I awoke after only 15 minutes, discovering a swarm of small, black ants crawling on my arms; it was them biting that woke me. After brushing the ants off I contemplated lying back down, reasoning that it took them 15 minutes to bother me the first time, should I try for another 15? I decided to get on the bike and look for more suitable sleeping arrangements. I rode the rest of the way to Maine before sleeping again. I arrived in Maine and secured a room near Gorham at 12:30 a.m. on Thursday, 13 ½ hours before the check would open. I took a shower and set my timer for 9 hours and fell fast asleep in a warm, comfortable bed. I awoke after only eight hours and couldnt get back to sleep. The biggest bonuses on the Maine to Florida leg were at Prince Edward Island; Cutler, Maine; and Maryville, Tennessee. The computer told me the route was 2,550 miles, requiring an average speed of 53 mph. It was a little tougher pace than the previous legs, but, considering I was very well rested, was well within my level of ability. Other than warnings about encountering moose in Canada, a performance award from a Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer and hellatious rain from tropical storm Dennis, the ride to Florida via Prince Edward Island and Tennessee was pretty uneventful. I slept a total of 2 hours in the allotted 48 and was tired when I got to the Florida check, but I was not exhausted. However, I had scored some major points, moving into first place. When Mike Kneebone and Bob Higdon entered my odometer reading into their computer, Bob said Oh my God! He had trouble believing the mileage I had ridden. In retrospect, I realize that this leg of the rally is where I truly won it. The final leg of the rally had many large bonuses. The largest one was in White Plains, New York. It was another must-do for me. I then planned on going to Rugby, North Dakota, then down to Lebanon, Kansas. I knew, if I were successful, that no one in the rally could catch me in the points race. On the way to North Dakota I had some problems with the bike; the fuel injection system had gone into limp home mode, running very rich, causing it to foul a spark plug. I stopped in Wisconsin and changed a plug and was on my way. The bike wasnt running well, but, unlike my fate in the 97 rally, I was moving. On the way to Rugby I began to get depressed, knowing that the delay incurred diagnosing the problem and working on the bike would make it impossible to get the Lebanon bonus. It was also windy and getting cold. All in all, my mental attitude was pretty low when I arrived in Rugby. I took my bonus photo and went inside a restaurant and re-did my calculations, this time without Lebanon in the route. I was so down that I called my wife at home for moral support. While on the phone I asked her to run the numbers on our home computer. She came up with the same figure I had. I said, I can do that. She replied, Sure you can. Now get on the bike and get going. What support! The sun was setting as I was heading west out of Rugby. It was a very beautiful sight, so much so I stopped and took a picture. It really lifted my spirits, if only for a while. I stopped and slept for an hour in a bank parking lot in Bismark, then headed for Montana. It was here, the Wednesday night before the end of the rally, that I experienced my only bad times of the entire rally. I was tired and stopped to sleep. After finding a safe place (it was two in the morning), I set the timer and lay down beside the bike but woke up after fifteen minutes. This time it wasnt ants that awoke me, but cold shivers. I was just too cold to sleep. I remounted the bike and rode another 80 miles before I needed to stop again. I went through this routine three times, never sleeping for more than a half an hour at a time. I kept forcing myself to continue, saying that it wouldnt be long before the sun came up, that I could take a nap when it got warmer. In retrospect, I should have secured a motel room and gotten two or three hours of good, warm sleep; I would have been time ahead. Thursday morning I was near Billings, Montana. The rising sun made me feel much better. The speed indicator on the GPS said I was ahead of schedule; everything was right with the world again. I decided to cut south into Wyoming, not wanting to go anywhere near Yellowstone or go through Salt Lake City from the north. I hope they get the freeway work done in that city someday! My detour added a couple hundred miles to the route, but I had plenty of time. I stopped for gas and to grab a bite to eat Thursday evening in Utah. I decided to take my bonus list into the restaurant and see if there might be something that I could pick up on my way in to the finish in Ojai. Sure enough, there was a bonus at Primm on the Nevada-California border, and another in Baker, California. In Primm I went into Buffalo Bills Casino to get a gaming token required for the bonus. The cashier told me I would have to get that at one of the tables. I walked to the nearest 21 table and dropped a ten-dollar bill on the table and asked for two five-dollar chips. I put one in the pocket of my Stitch, the other I put on the table. I dont remember my hand, but the dealer busted. I left the two chips there and won a second hand! I contemplated staying. Maybe I could offset some of the cost of this trip, I reasoned. Alas, I came to my senses, dropped the chips in my pocket and left. On the home stretch to Ojai and the finish I stopped just east of Barstow for a nap at two oclock Friday morning. It was here that I made a nearly catastrophic mistake. I laid down in a parking lot and set my timer for one hour. Just before I closed my eyes, I moved the timer closer to me. What seemed like only a few minutes later a semi truck parked near me and the sound of his air brakes being set woke me up. I was really pissed off! I checked my timer to see how much time was left. It read 59 minutes and the colon wasnt blinking. I had mistakenly turned the timer off when I moved it closer to me! I bolted up, looked at my watch and saw that I had slept an hour longer than I planned. I quickly mounted the bike and headed for Ojai. As it turned out, I had plenty of time, arriving at the finish with an hour to spare. However, had it not been for that truck. On the ride into Ojai I reflected on the last eleven days. I had seen some fantastic sunsets and sunrises, I had traveled many roads I had never been on before and, generally, had a pretty easy ride. I had only two close calls while riding, not bad considering the distance I had traveled. The high points were getting bonuses and seeing my fellow competitors at the checks and bonus locations. On average, I had ridden about ten miles per hour over the speed limit, usually just fast enough to keep ahead of the trucks. It was very uplifting to see all of the spectators and my fellow entrants at Widder Enterprises, the host location of the start and finish in Ojai. Again, when Mike and Bob entered my odometer reading into their computers, Bob said Oh my God! Mike just shook his head. I asked what was wrong and he said You rode almost 5,000 miles on the leg. Yeah, I said, it felt kind of far. At the awards banquet I found out I had bested my friend Rick Morrison by only 317 points. If I had not gotten the bonus in Primm, worth 323 points, it would have been me in second place instead of Rick. Mike announced that I had ridden 13,346 miles in the eleven days, a new rally record. I am frequently asked how I accomplished such mileage. I really dont have an answer for that; other than my initial statement of being totally focused on a specific goal and having visualized riding a hard rally. I have a map with the routes I rode highlighted. If someone had shown me this map and told me, before the rally, that I would ride 13,346 miles during this eleven-day event, I would have said they were nuts. I find it hard to believe myself, and I was the one that did it! On the ride home to Colorado I was in a very quiet, sedate mood. I searched my soul to try to figure out why I wasnt the happiest person on earth. I could only conclude that, after two years of being totally focused on one thing, one outcome, I no longer had a mission. I was anxious to get home to my family, but I wasnt driven by an internal force as I had been for so long. Upon arriving home I learned of the passing of my friend Fran Crane due to an accidentally administered medication while in the hospital in Salt Lake City. It came as a great shock and heightened my depression. It took a few weeks after getting home to begin to feel normal again. It seems odd, but one thing that lifted my spirits was thinking about the 2001 Iron Butt Rally.