2017 Iron Butt SaddleSore 1000: Going the distance

"Motorcyclists are the seasoning in the soup of humanity," someone whose name escapes me once wrote, but as any biker knows, it's as much the diversity found across the motorcycle community as the passion for life on two wheels that makes the riding world so rewarding.

While non-riding folk see someone on a motorcycle and think 'motorcyclist', 'biker', or maybe even 'bikie', we know our community is made up of all sorts: sports nuts, trail riders, adventure tourers, commuters, the inner-city scooter café set, motocrossers, sportstourers and more. And while they may not spring immediately to mind, while we're at it let's add one more: long-distance tourers.

Specifically, I'm referring here to that perhaps slightly unhinged little corner of the biking fraternity that lives for putting as many kays under the wheels as possible – and possibly for a number of consecutive days.

Believe it or not, there are internet-based clubs for those with 'distance addiction', including the Iron Butt Association in the US and FarRiders here in Oz. For our 2017 Bikesales Luxury Tourer comparison test we thought we'd shoot for membership of the Iron Butt Association, which is gained simply by the completion and verification of an approved Iron Butt ride.

Beginners' option
There are plenty of rides to choose from, but we opted for the 'baby' of the bunch – the introductory SaddleSore 1000. Basically you choose your route and then cover at least 1000 miles (just over 1600 kilometres) in 24 hours. A witness's signature is required at the start and end of the ride, and a log must be kept that details each stop – odometer reading, time, location etc. All this has to be backed up with dated and timed fuel and food receipts, which will allow the ride to be ratified by the Iron Butt Association once you've completed the ride and submitted your paperwork.

The Iron Butt Association website underlines the importance of preparation and knowing your limits – fatigue is, as we all know, a big concern on long road trips and it's essential that each rider attempting a ride like this knows when they've had enough, and either pulls the plug or takes a break accordingly.

Speeding isn't necessary; in fact, if your paper trail indicates you've been riding over the limit your attempt will be null and void. 'Pushing on' like this actually takes a far greater toll physically – over the long haul it's far better to observe the limit and go easy on yourself. It's maintaining a safe average speed that's the important thing.

This was actually my second SaddleSore 1000, having successfully completed a run from Cambridge, England, to Inverness, Scotland, and return some 15 or so years ago, during a four-year stint that I lived in that neck of the woods. That was on a Honda Deauville and smack bang in the middle of a British winter, so I was hoping for an easier run on Australia's quieter roads in early summer.

Our route would take us from Melbourne to Silverton in New South Wales, just north of Broken Hill. Why Silverton? Two reasons: it has a great pub, and using it as our turnaround point would give us the minimum of 1600 kilometres we needed to successfully complete the SaddleSore 1000.

Early send-off
Our attempt began with a 4:00am departure from home, my bleary-eyed wife signing my paperwork and waving me off with a distinctly worried look in her eye. Then it was a short run to the 24-hour service centre at Calder Park, on the northwestern outskirts of Melbourne, to meet my companions in crime and begin the run in earnest.

Our group of three comprised myself, plus Bikesales editor Mark 'Mav' Fattore and Trucksales editor Geoff 'Middo' Middleton. Mav needs no introduction to these pages but Middo rides a Honda CTX1300 and has been riding for more years than he cares to remember… We asked our usual photographers if they'd like to tag along, but no-one seemed keen to take us up on the offer…

Lightening our load considerably were our steeds for this mile-fest – Honda's GL1800 Goldwing, Indian's Roadmaster, and Harley-Davidson's Ultra Limited. When it comes to mile munching, life on two wheels doesn't get any comfier than this, so we were pretty sure any failures would be down to human, not mechanical, error…

After the usual breakfast of kings – a coffee, a bacon and egg McMuffin and a hash brown – we fuelled up and the run was officially on; the 24 hours begins from the time on the first fuel receipt. The first hour was conducted in darkness, as we pushed on up the Calder Highway with little but prime movers for company. Kangaroos are prolific in these parts but fortunately they were scarce – wildlife on the road is perhaps the biggest risk of all on a run like this, especially in rural and outback Australia.

Day dawns
Around 5:30am the sky slowly began to lighten in the east and the stars faded; the temperature dropped to nine degrees as we climbed over the ranges past Kyneton and Castlemaine – no issue when you have massive screens, heated grips and heated seats at your disposal – but slowly began to climb as the sun edged higher in a cloudless sky.

When you rarely have occasion to experience it, riding through dawn is an almost hypnotic experience – there's a sense of blissful isolation in spearing your way through the darkness, then a feeling of renewal as the sun bursts over the horizon and a new day begins. Rolling through rustic rural towns in Victoria's wheat belt, their imminent presence signalled by the soaring silos standing sentinel over them (yes, I just wrote that), also triggers a very deep-seated pleasure, as these hubs of country community slowly stir into life.

Mid-morning we rolled into our first fuel stop at Sea Lake, a dot on the map just near the broad expanse of Lake Tyrrell. Both the Honda and the Harley still had plenty of fuel to spare but it seemed the Indian, with its smaller 20-litre tank, was set to be the limiting factor in terms of range. Here we fell into what would become a well-rehearsed routine – fuel the bikes, fill out the log books, a quick trip to the loo and a small bite to eat.

Staying hydrated is particularly important on a long run like this, so Mav and I had opted for backpacks with drinking bladders so we could keep sipping while on the go. At the first sign of a headache it's too late – your body is already dehydrated and that spells additional fatigue and lower levels of concentration.

Welcoming committee
On the approach to Mildura we passed a fellow rider who appeared to be stopped to take a photo – of us, it seemed. We gave him a wave and pressed on – we had a schedule to keep, after all – but soon had the chap's Honda VFR800 in our mirrors. Ignoring his signal to follow him up a side road – we've all seen Wolf Creek, after all – he caught us up again and told us at a red light on the city's fringe that he was merely trying to take us on a shortcut that bypassed Mildura's many roundabouts and traffic lights.

Turns out Bikesales reader Ron Perry had taken notice of the news story signalling our SaddleSore intentions, and had come out to meet us and tag along for a bit. A veteran of more Iron Butt runs than he cares to mention, the Iron Butt Association sticker on the front of his immaculate Viffer said it all – here's a man who loves a decent ride!

A Mildura local, Ron accompanied us over the mighty Murray River and then bid us farewell at Wentworth, where Australia's longest tributary joins the Darling River. It would be our last glimpse of water for some time, as from here we pushed north up the Silver City Highway with little but cattle stations and the odd turnoff to a mine punctuating the landscape for the next 240 kilometres.

After the stresses and frenetic activity of a major capital city, a person can breathe out here. A huge sky hangs over the endless horizon, the road stretching ahead shared only with the odd road train or grey nomad, with caravan in tow.

Things were getting warmer now, the mercury hovering around 30 degrees, and with these massive barn-door fairings we were feeling the heat. So, with a quick photo stop in Broken Hill duly dispensed with, it was with some relief that we finally rolled into Silverton and marked our journey's halfway point.

We continued five kilometres on for a photo at Mundi Mundi lookout, a slight elevation where the outback stretches out before you with all its immense distance, before retreating to the hospitality and comfort of the famous Silverton Hotel.

I'm just here for the gasoline…
Established in the early 1880s after the discovery of silver, the town has also served as the backdrop for several films in recent history, most notably Mad Max 2. There's even a Mad Max museum here, among the many art galleries and historic buildings.

We'd made reasonable time to Silverton so we indulged ourselves with a lengthy break of about an hour or so – time enough for Mav to tackle the Silverton Hotel bar game (of which we can't divulge details – rest assured all proceeds aid the Royal Flying Doctor Service), and for us to devour a tasty lunch. Then, just when the pub's accommodation was starting to look tempting, we dragged ourselves back onto the bikes to begin the homeward leg – only 850 kilometres or so to go!

The return run was, not surprisingly, more of the same – just in reverse. Wild goats were everywhere along the Silver City Highway but they had the good sense to stay clear of the road, while the few 'turbo chooks' we saw (otherwise known as emus) were fortunately well away from the bitumen. As for kangaroos, we didn't see any – at least not until later that night…

Ooh-roo!
Long after the sun had set and we'd knocked over the major centres of Ouyen, Wycheproof and Charlton, we were pushing south along the Calder Freeway on the outskirts of Castlemaine, myself leading on the 'Wing, with Mav just behind on the Roadmaster and Middo further adrift on the Ultra.

Sitting at the posted limit of 110km/h, my appreciation of the serenity of the night was shattered when two large eastern grey kangaroos bounded over the wire rope barrier in the centre divide, spearing straight for me.

Time slowed down as adrenaline took over – I shoved the 'Wing's right-hand bar and missed the second 'roo by centimetres, more by luck than anything. After having a similar experience in August on the 2017 Bikesales Big-Bore Adventure Bike Comparison, I'm beginning to think I've become a bit of marsupial magnet – a title I'm rather keen to shed!

Of course Mav had a ringside seat for these shenanigans, and was possibly more shaken by the event than I was myself. Another rider had been killed after hitting a 'roo in the same area just the week before, so the whole thing was a sobering reminder of how an endurance ride like this brings with it an inherent extra level of risk. Sure, motorcyclists can have run-ins with wildlife at any time, but the risk is always higher from dusk to dawn and a SaddleSore 1000 will invariably see participants covering distance in the dark.

With just one hour to go and still in something of a reflective mood given my chance meeting with Skippy, it was now time to eke the most out of the Goldwing's fuel range. I'd last filled up in Ouyen and had passed on joining the others at the bowser in Charlton.

It was somehow fitting then that, after a journey of over 1700 kilometres, the 'Wing coughed and spluttered to a stop virtually level with the roadsign that states, 'Service Centre, 1km'… I knew the 5-litre jerry can of fuel I'd stowed in one of the panniers was going to come in handy sooner or later…

SaddleSore indeed
And then, five minutes later, the job was done. Mav, Middo and I regrouped at Calder Park Services (inbound this time) and fuelled up to get that final receipt. Soon after that I was back home, pestering a still bleary-eyed but relieved spouse for my completion signature – and so ended Bikesales's first Iron Butt SaddleSore 1000.

Now it's just a matter of collating our receipts and submitting our paperwork to the Iron Butt Association for ratification – and perhaps pondering our next Iron Butt epic. BunBurner 1500, anyone?

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