M2MTT 2003 It's three days after M2M03 and it's still on my mind a lot. The day was beautiful, the route was fantastic and my bike didn't so much as hiccup. My friend Craig Chawla came up from Chicago Friday night and we went to get some vittles at the Palomino. There we ran into Rick of ChiVin/MilVinMoto, Brian, Dan and some others. On their way out they invited us to join them at Frank's Power Plant. We did, but we don't like to ride with a hangover either, so we just had one there.
Saturday morning we scrambled and got to Fuel about 8:30. Route directions containing a clever disclaimer were available in a non-descript manila envelope on a sidewalk table. We milled around and made final preps before the start. I think there were about 30 riders that were planning to go the distance and a number of spectators. The general tension was varied. Some studied maps, while others yawned and rubbed their eyes. It seemed as though Rick was the only one that was really serious about winning. I think some stragglers were still expected, so the starting gun didn't fire at 9:00. Rick was on his TDM and ready to roll, but waited about ten minutes before he bolted down Center Street. Everyone else took that as a signal to strap on their brain buckets and pop it into gear.
The short ride to the interstate was frenzied. CC and I were toward the end of the pack on 94 and 16, then we passed a group that was stopped at a gas station sporting a sign that read "Good ol' Gas." At the next turn, another group stopped to consult a map or something. I thought it was only about a half-hour into the ride and we were happy to be off the freeway, as neither of us have a fairing, so we kept riding. We followed a couple Ducs until they missed a turn. The temp was comfortable while at speed. The high, puffy clouds offered occasional shade from the sun.
As we moved west the hills grew. Many that we crested unveiled scenic vistas. We stopped for gas in Okee before we got to the Wisconsin Lake Ferry. Before we got onto the ferry we chatted with another cyclist (not an M2Mer) from Madison for a bit, Craig checked his oil and we took some photos. The boat ride was short and sweet. We rolled off and cruised by the Circus World Museum on the way into Baraboo. There we got into trouble with the directions and ended up taking a quick trip into and out of Devil's Lake State Park. We went back through Baraboo and found our way to the correct route.
Southwestern WI was incredible. The twisties were thankfully relentless. We stopped at the Hillsboro Drive-In to refuel our bodies with burgers, fries and root beer before we got to Wildcat Mountain. While we were eating a number of riders waved as they passed us. We passed some of them at a gas station a while later as they were pumping petrol and eating fruit. Wildcat Mountain was the highlight with a couple really tight switchbacks. At one point we came across a few guys that were righting a downed Honda. We stopped to offer assistance, but everyone was OK and we were waved on.
We followed WI33, gassing up along the way to the La Crosse area. We were routed to some sweet county roads. About a mile after turning onto county road T, a trio of riders going the opposite direction motioned for us to turn around. We pulled over, consulted the map and made our way to the right turnoff. A while later we saw the group that gave us the tip making the next turn in the distance. They must have stopped for fuel as the directions instructed to do so before that turn. We hammered it to catch up to them. They set a great pace on the twisties going into the river valley and up the Mighty Miss to Prescott, where they made a food stop (at a stoplight I heard one yell "I need food" to one of her riding partners). We pressed on, crossing the river into Minnesota.
The last leg was boring and I was exhausted. MN61 was under construction and I didn't want to get a ticket after making it that far, so I rode close to the speed limit. Knowing that I was close to my hometown and the finish line was comforting. We exited on Lyndale Ave. and I anxiously yelled to Craig that we were within a mile of the finish line. We pulled up to Bob's Java Hut, parked next to Rick's red TDM and crawled off our steeds. We were shocked to find out that he was the only other person there and I think Craig's '76 R90/6 and my '77 R75/7 were the two oldest bikes to run this year. It must have been the root beer that made the difference.
Rick had gotten to Bob's about two hours before us. The next group after us arrived about a half-hour later and another big group came in 15 mins. after that. Craig and I hung out for a couple hours ogling bikes and talking to others about the trip. Riders continued to make their way in. Before it got dark CC and I split to go spend time with our respective families. Sunday morning I tried to be a good son and help my mom with some yard work before meeting Craig at Bob's. We decided to take the interstate and try to get back as quickly as possible. We departed around 2:00 and stopped to eat about 3:15. The next stop was for fuel and we happened across Mike from Chicago sitting on a picnic table having a smoke next to his Guzzi. He joined us on the way back to Milwaukee. The weather was great until we got close to Brew City. We just missed the rain, but the roads were wet, it was getting dark and the mist on the Hoan Bridge was brutal when mixed with splattered bugs on our tinted helmet shields.
We unsaddled in front of my place in Bay View and groaned for a couple minutes. My girlfriend very graciously had a lasagna dinner waiting for us. We needed that. Craig and Mike left for Chicago a bit later and reportedly made it safely through the haze between here and Chicago. I hit my pillow hard a short while after that. Scott Feist '77 BMW R75/7