Jun 27, 2011
Note: this is update from Harold Grissom on the 2011 Stampede challenge aboard his custom built BMW R/90.
Last I left you I had wrecked the bike in Jefferson City, Missouri. After getting back on the bike I knew I needed to make some serious time on the bike before the pain and stiffness came into play. So from Jefferson City I hauled ass toward Cincinnati. With the handle bars down below the tank, me hunched over and the bike running like crap, I head east as fast as I can go. I knew at this point I was either in first or second place. It was between me and Charlie the Nomad. My plans were to stay on the bike until the bike either blew or got me to the finish line. When I arrive in Salem, Illinois (June 21, 2011), I pull over and try to get rehydrated. Do not rely strictly on Gatoraid in these situations. Water, water and more water. I was learning this lesson the hard way since I had already got sick and was forcing myself to stay in the saddle. Unbeknownst to me, Illinois was having an outbreak of tornadoes. I understand that the Chicago Cubs even had to stop their game due to the outbreak. As I get back onto Hwy. 50 I’m running toward Cincinnati and run into a wall of the blackest clouds I had seen in some time. The wind is so strong that I am leaning to one side of the bike to keep it in the road. The bike is literally tracking down the highway at a 45 degree angle as the strong winds are pushing against me from the side. The winds are so strong that it blows my GPS clean off the bike. I pull over to put on my torn rain slicker (tore it up in the Missouri wreck). As I’m putting this on, an old fellow pulls over and tells me that I need to turn around. That they’ve spotted several tornadoes ahead. I appreciate the info and turn around and head back toward town. To my suprise, I don’t make it a mile before I run into a tornado. Of course I turn around and head back toward the area the fellow had told me that they had spotted several tornadoes. I don’t make it a couple of miles before I spot another tornado. Now I’m left with no choice but to get off the main route (Hwy. 50) and start running country roads. As I was running in all directions on these country roads, I would stop and ask residents about a good escape route and it soon became apparent that there were none. I was literally sitting on my bike and could see tornadoes on both sides heading the same direction at the same pace. I knew that I was better off staying put on the side of the road and hoping they passed. While they started off as tall twisters, then eventually got lower and more compact to the ground as they started dissipating. I took a picture of one of them as it was starting to dissipate. I knew that if I didn’t, nobody would believe that not only did I wreck, but I also got caught in between two tornadoes!
As the visible tornadoes start to clear, I’m intent on making it to Cincinnatti and haul tail due east. The bike is running worse and worse and eventually dies. I pull over and roll the bike up under an old abandoned shed. Now that I’m out of the rain I go ahead and start working on the bike by straightened the bars up as best as possible, and start working on getting the bike cranked. I appears though, that my switch is shot and I end up getting the bike cranked with the kicker. I load up and take off toward Cinci. I don’t make it too far down the road before the bike dies again. I go through the same routine over and over until the bike just doesn’t have any more starts left in her. When she finally came to rest I was in Fairfield, Illinois. The bikes last miles were filled with coughs, backfiring and gasping. Stay tuned on the voyage to Rockingham, NC and the final results…..
