Some ideas, like fine wines, require time to mature, to age, to get ready to go public. Back in 2018, I attempted an Iron Butt ride, over 1,000 miles on 2 wheels under 24 hours, at the age of 70. Those experiences spent some time simmering, and will be shared once each month for a bit. The plan: to jump on I-15 and head north to Dillon MT, 1,080 miles north.
Two teachers have given wise lessons. Jesus told us to carefully plan our projects “But don’t begin until you count the cost. For who would begin construction of a building without first calculating the cost to see if there is enough money to finish it? Otherwise, you might complete only the foundation before running out of money, and then everyone would laugh at you” (Luke 14:28-29). Murphey told us “If anything can go wrong, it will.” To which I would add, “it will go wrong in the worst way at the worst time.” So I factored in some margin. Some room for unexpected obstacles. Probably the wisest thing about the trip.
At 4 AM I fired up the Honda ST1300 (the first pic) and jumped north on I-15 in darkness, accompanied by a hot cup of coffee. Just short of Barstow I felt the driver’s backrest slip loose; the cold weather gear bag was right behind it. A short stop seemed to fix it, and I was ahead of schedule as I pulled into Las Vegas for gas at 8:30, 273 miles down. But 40 miles north, that backrest slipped again, and my cold weather gear bag fell off. A hard brake, and I saw it 100 yards back, in the middle of the lane. I clumped along in my motorcycle boots, then with 25 ft to go a truck ran over it. He seemed to aim.
Luckily, the gear was soft, but it took time to grab it and redesign how to re-attach it. I pulled into Cedar City at 10:30, 460 miles down, almost halfway, but the miles and speed and running back had me more tired than I anticipated. So I took an earlier than planned lunch at an old train station (the second pic). Even so, I felt good about finishing. 600 miles but with over 9 hours left.
The next leg anticipated 210 miles to Provo for lunch, but Murphey struck again. The long lunch didn’t give enough time to recover, so stopped early at Santaquin, after 188 miles. Now just 400 to go. First lesson in counting the cost. Figure out the hardest part of the program, and get it done first. I hit it pretty hard in the morning, wanting to put on as many miles as possible. Tiredness on a bike comes from both time on the bike and the speed, and both hit me. Jesus and Murphey make a wise team.
I projected 17 hours for the ride, so I had the margin. The first 650 miles took just 9 hours, including stops, averaging around 70 mph. Now, to cover my butt, the limit here was 80 mph, and traffic moved well above that. I had about 430 miles to go in the remaining 8 hours, needing only to average 54 mph. I relaxed. This was do-able, short of a mechanical or human failure. I kept up the pace to shorten the time, but starting hard allowed me to take more and longer stops than the plan called for.
At 8:20 PM I pulled into the Motel 6 in Dillon, alive, needing a hot shower and a soft bed. Mission accomplished—ahead of schedule—but only because of leaving margin, and starting hard.
Kick Starting the Application
In planning, how well do you compensate for difficulties. Do you tend to start with the easier tasks, to build some confidence, or with the more difficult ones? How well do you invite God into the planning?