Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge™ - 2010 Stories

Geoff Trewin   
HOKA HEY (Definition:  It’s a nice day to die – urbandictionary.com)

The name “Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge” had originally inspired me with the thought of 1,000 like-minded Harley riders (warriors) in an endurance race from Key West, Florida to Homer, Alaska; a distance of over 9,000 miles. What I didn’t understand was how close the definition of “Hoka Hey” would become to being true.

But before I try to tell you about the toughest event I have ever competed in, I need to explain the “challenge” of how the event started for us.

It all started months before the June 20th start date. We had planned to ship our bikes very early so they would be ready and waiting at Bartels Harley-Davidson in Los Angeles, as our plan was to have six to seven days to ride the 4,500 km to Key West and then three to four days to prepare for the start.

I should explain who “we” are; there were only three Australians that took up the challenge. Me (Geoff Trewin), my great mate and business partner, Marc Story and a customer (and now riding buddy), Lyn Lees (aka Hard Riding Harley Girl). Marc had his bike in Denver and planned to have two weeks cruising his way to the ANIMAL BAR (another story) in Temple, Texas where Lyn and I would meet him after riding from L.A.

Back to our personal “challenge”…  Lyn and I arrived on Friday, June 11th at 7.30 a.m. at the Los Angeles International Airport, grabbed a cab and headed straight to Bartels Harley-Davidson. They were not open but, as the first of the service staff started to arrive, it became obvious our bikes were not there! I had the import agent’s contact details and made a call. The ship had arrived in L.A. on June 9th (the bikes had been left in Singapore for 2 weeks!) and they were still unloading the containers. He informed me no freight is moved from the dock until all the containers are off the ship, so we checked into a nearby hotel. Further calls revealed that the containers were then moved to a freight warehouse for distribution and that no one worked on the weekends. To add to the drama, Bartels did not open their service department on Mondays. Lyn hit the Hoka Hey blog to see if any of the competitors had a contact.  While drowning our sorrows in an Irish Pub, Kevin Jones from L.A. Harley-Davidson called to let us know they would do whatever they could to help. Kevin had also entered the Hoka Hey. As there was little we could do until Monday, we informed the agent of the new delivery address and decided to visit Kevin at L.A. Harley-Davidson. The cab fare was about $70 so we decided to rent a car. Kevin was not working on Saturday but his manager took us to the rental car agent. Then off we go in our rented Mini with Google Maps in hand. But wait, there’s more! Lyn had lost all her credit cards!! Breathe, just breathe, was my request as we raced back to the dealership. Luckily, Lyn had dropped them in the manager’s car so they were waiting for us. As we drove back to Marina Del Ray there was a lot of discussion on the benefits of “one man, one wallet” versus “one woman, multiple bags, thousands of pockets and loads of shit.”  Sunday turned into a forced day of rest.  Three days lost.

Monday, we checked out and, with Google Maps in hand, we drove back to L.A. Harley-Davidson. We were waiting in the car park and as I looked at our fully packed Mini, I started to wonder how all that gear was going to fit on two bikes. Luckily, my thoughts were interrupted by, “You must be the Aussies?” We met Kevin, who is a great guy, and spent time talking and looking around the dealership. We were introduced to his father and other staff. It was nearly lunch time and Kevin invited us to a meal with his girlfriend. We went to a local Mexican restaurant; I didn’t want to be rude and let them know I don’t eat Mexican so I thought I would bear it, but made sure Lyn swore not to tell my wife or I would be eating it forever!

After lunch we got gut-wrenching news. Customs had assigned our container for “DETAILED INSPECTION” and we would not see it before Thursday!
The process is simple enough; customs may have a concern or randomly select freight for detailed inspection, which means the container is taken to a different holding warehouse, unpacked and laid neatly out so the customs agent can inspect it.  This, of course, adds thousands of dollars to the freight cost. Or that’s what your agent will tell you!

Lyn hit the Hoka Hey Blog again looking for someone who had a contact in customs. We were a bit taken aback by the many offers for help; mates, cousins, business associates, even the Hoka Hey competitors were calling anyone they knew. Four days lost. Checked into another hotel.

After a morning of frantic phone calls and rushing from warehouse to warehouse trying to speak to with someone face to face, Annie, the Hoka Hey west coast coordinator rang with a contact name, Danny Green, that she had received from her contact in Alaska. It was about 4:30 p.m. when I finally spoke to Danny, a top bloke, and for a customs guy, he had a sense of humour. He said it was the plutonium in the saddle bags that caught his eye. Danny told us the paperwork was a mess and that if we would come to their office in Long Beach first thing in the morning he could sort it out for us. 5 days lost. Checked into another hotel.

We got up early to miss the L.A. traffic and we were constantly blessing Kevin for the loan of ‘Sherrill’ (the Navman) as she directed us effortlessly with her calm voice even when we were a bit slow to turn. The harshest word expressed was “re-calculating.” We parked the Mini close to the customs building and went walking looking for a Starbucks. Long Beach is a very well-groomed beachside suburb of L.A. In the early morning there were just the odd few homeless on park benches. Lyn spotted a lady walking her dog and walked over to get directions, totally ignoring my golden rule learned the hard way from past experiences, “never ask an American for directions.” After five minutes of detailed directions Lyn returned looking very pleased with herself. We opted for the Starbucks 100 feet away across the park! 10 feet on I was approached by a homeless guy saying something about Starbucks while he scuffled along with his hands on the wheels and legs and feet propelling his wheelchair. I didn’t really understand him so I kept walking. In rolls the wheel chair guy giving me a mouth full at Starbucks?

At the customs office we spent about three hours sorting out the paperwork and got our release paper. What a relief! As we walked out, we overheard a guy tell a story about a homeless wheelchair guy abusing him downstairs!

Off to the warehouse we raced, only to find the bikes were still at the Customs holding warehouse waiting for the fees to be paid. After more frantic calls, it turned out there was a dispute as to whether the freight charges for the ship has been paid and the container could not be released until the issue was resolved. We made even more frantic calls, dismayed by the number of people and different companies that were involved. We then headed off to another warehouse (thank God for Sherrill) that was just more blank buildings covered in security cameras. Finally, we spoke to a helpful lady who also informed us the container had not been inspected and was listed for Thursday. With her help, the inspection was moved up so that we could pick the bikes up from the distribution warehouse on Thursday morning. We lost too much time to ride to Key West, so Marc suggested we hire a U-Haul Van and drive in shifts so that we could arrive by Saturday night. Sherrill took us to downtown L.A. to pick up the van. Lyn had hit the blog again to see if anyone knew of a cheaper alternative, as our budget was getting stretched. Again we were overwhelmed by the support and encouragement we received from the competitors in the Hoka Hey.  Did they know we were all going to be competing for $500,000?  One guy, “Whiskey” told us to call him from the hire place and he would put $500 on his credit card! 6 days lost. Checked into another hotel.

Day 7 ... this had to be it! We U-hauled over to the warehouse calmly guided by Sherrill. As I knew we were early, we parked in the car park and waited and waited and waited.  I finally went in to talk with the supervisor and learned the container was not there! After more frantic calls, some abusive (Lyn had lost it by now), the container arrived at 1 p.m. Now for the bad news… there were 2,000 boxes that needed to be unloaded, by hand, and palletized before we could even see the bikes. The guys stayed on the job after hours to get our bikes and they rolled out at 7 p.m. This was about two hours after our cut-off time; we were too far gone and it seemed our challenge was just to get to the start line – but we felt we owed it to all the people rooting for us.

What followed was 36 hours of driving across the U.S. with very little sleep. Marc was closely watching our progress and trying to arrange somewhere to unload the bikes. We conceded to the fact that it was going to be too stressful trying to unload, unpack and put two bikes together very late on a Saturday night. We knew there would be lots of helpers but that would not be fair to them either. We picked Pensacola as the furthest point we could ride from and not lose the advantage of double shift driving. I called the Service Manager at Pensacola Harley-Davidson who was happy to help. We got there as the doors opened and figured we had time to have two tires fitted to Lyn’s bike. At 12:30 p.m. we rode off, expecting to be at Key West at about 12:00 a.m., which would give us time to rest, and Lyn time to repack.

As you would expect after the week we had just had, it wasn’t a trouble-free ride. The first of two very wild storms hit us as we turned onto the turnpike (looped expressway). Progress was very slow as the road was flooding and visibility was very low, but we pressed on. The second storm hit as we reached road work and detours on the outskirts of Miami. Finding our way out of the Miami ghetto was not easy but thankfully a young guy in his 500SL convertible Mercedes directed us back to the turn pike. Soaking wet, we arrived in Key West at 5:00 a.m. – just one hour before the start! We fuelled the bikes, parked them in the line, registered, found Marc and had 15 minutes rest…WE MADE IT!!!!!! Now for the start of the longest endurance race ever put together. Luckily we were well rested and prepared – not!

Start the Race
We started the race at 6:15 a.m. and felt very lucky to be there. We were also glad that Marc was rested and prepared, as the race to the first checkpoint turned out to be quite the navigational challenge. After 17 hours on the bike we were very wet, tired and no help to Marc whatsoever! We were just blindly following and fuelling the bikes, grabbing water and snacks where we could. We checked into Bruce Rossmeyer’s Harley Davidson just as it was getting dark to pick up our next instructions. I saw a few surprised faces when they saw Lyn and me, considering the debacle we’d gone through just to get our bikes! With Marc in the lead we were doing well, but it had to end; he was still fresh and I knew, as we all did, had his own personal goals. At about 11:00 p.m. we were in a forest with lots of corners; as Marc went out of sight, I backed off and pulled into an abandoned service station. Lyn followed and I told her I needed to rest. We both just laid down on the concrete with our helmets still on and slept for three to four hours.  It was a much needed rest after driving for 36 hours, spending, 37 hours on the bikes and only having about an hour’s rest. One hell of a first day of the challenge!!

Day 1
When we woke at first light, it was cold and there was heavy dew. We took off in the direction Marc had headed and pulled into the first service station. I now needed to look at the instructions and start navigating. There was no map; just “turn left at x and right at z”! It was clear the statement made in the briefing before the race was no lie. “We will lose most of you within the first two days and the instructions are designed to confuse you and get you lost.” At that moment, we were in both places!!! I found that I had to break my golden rule and ask for directions. I started with “Where are we?” and was able to get that basic information. I found if you keep the question simple you got a lot better answer. It didn’t take long to get in sync with the instructions.
The biggest confusion was that we weren’t aware of the distance between each turn, which did distract us from riding through some of the most spectacular scenery in the U.S. The riding was only interrupted by fuelling, laying down in full gear – including helmet – beside the bikes and catching 40 winks. The general pattern was established. Now for the confusion… we drove from Florida into Georgia and back into Florida, then back into Georgia and then crossed into Alabama! Once we got our minds around the U.S. road systems, it was pretty good; however, we still needed to know if we wanted to go north, south, east or west. Another point of confusion was that one road often had many names. This is an example instruction as it was written, “Turn LEFT onto US-41 W/SW 8TH ST/TAMIAMI TRL/FL-90 W. Continue to follow US-41 W/TAMIAMI TRL E/FL-90W”. Not easy to understand, and even harder to read strapped to the Road King’s windscreen!
With the luxury of hindsight I now know at this stage in the race I was already fatigued enough not to be making sensible decisions anyhow! We often rode miles in the wrong direction because I confused a right turn with a left turn. On one very confusing mountain section we ended up with four other bikes looking for the next turn. As we found out, you often need go beyond the instructions to pick up the next piece. We rode with two of the guys (ex-policemen) until about midnight; when it looked like we were about to negotiate a high mountain pass we decided to lie down for a few hours. We were finding the abandoned service stations were becoming very comfortable!

Day 2
We seemed to be making good pace, even accounting for the amount of time the guys would stop to confirm directions. About midmorning, I pulled into a service station for fuel and our two mates rode on. The instructions were to, “Merge onto US-278 E/MS-6 E” and then, “Turn LEFT onto MS-315/BLACK JACK RD.” As we merged on to US-278 we caught our new mates and rode on. After about an hour I pulled up and said, “This does not feel right as we are travelling east!” After more directions from locals, we headed back to find the left turn. As we were heading back, we saw about 30 bikes heading east. Soon after, all the bikes were travelling at 140 km per hour on an interstate where the traffic generally travels at 150-160 km per hour looking for Black Jack Road. As soon as we spotted Black Jack Road, all the bikes tried to turn or stop at the same time. It’s a wonder that the interstate travellers were able to miss the bikes. After that experience, we avoided riding in groups.

After that, we lost the pack and I made another wrong turn so that we arrived at Southern Thunder Harley-Davidson an hour after we should have. The weather was hot; after a quick drink, new sunglasses and one lost camera (Lyn) we headed off on the next leg, which turned out to be a real low point for me. As if riding a motorcycle on the wrong side of the road with no sleep was not enough, there were new navigational challenges. We crossed into Tennessee, Arkansas and got more confused and disoriented than I have ever been in my life. The instructions must have come straight off Google, as some roads didn’t even exist. I should have remembered the “go a little bit further.” After sitting in a burger joint trying to see if we could recognize any roads so we could pick up the instructions somewhere beyond Jonesboro (we really needed to get out of there, it was DRY – no alcohol!), we retraced our steps to get onto a main road and headed for Flagstaff to pick up new instructions. On the way we stopped at a truck stop and paid $5.00 for a shower, before riding on another three to four hours and then stopping to sleep beside a service station that was shut for the night.

Day 3
On to Oklahoma. We were making good time, not quite on the right path but heading in the same direction. My standard line became, “We rode every road and took every turn we could find even if it meant looking for six hours!” Crossing into New Mexico as it got dark was an amazing experience. As we topped a ridge with a valley of traffic snaking its way towards us, there was a backdrop of one of the most amazing storms I have ever seen. The lightning turned night into day, but also formed tornado vortexes that had me looking for shelter. Just as the rain hit, we made it to the New Mexico information center and found several other bikes and lots of trucks seeking shelter.  None of us wanted to be on the road if a tornado touched down. The rain and wind were incredible so we laid down for a few hours. About 3:00 a.m. I woke to a strange humming and heard a frightened truckie say, “It’s out there somewhere”…

Day 4
Through New Mexico and across Arizona the pattern of riding, fuelling and the odd power nap became the norm. I managed to contact Marc by text and it looked like we would catch up with him, but we never did. I came to realize it was not going to happen. I knew I would be happy just to make sure Lyn and I crossed the finish line and would later understand any attempt to push ourselves any harder would have ended in disaster. As it was, our trigger to nap was waking up on the rumble stripes.  As crazy as that sounds, we were simply not capable of making sensible decisions. When I think back now I still struggle with that fact I put myself in that situation. Upon arriving in Flagstaff, we rode straight to the dealership. It was a personal stop, not a checkpoint. In 2003, when Marc and I and our wives, came across this dealership on the 100th anniversary ride, I was so inspired by what they had done with a tin shed that I made the decision to return to Australia and buy a Harley-Davidson dealership.

We were not eating very well so we had a steak at the bar next to the dealership. This gave us an energy boost and we rode on. Riding through Monument Valley was something I had always wanted to do, just like John Wayne. However, I hadn’t expected to do it in full moonlight. We were now in Utah and heading for Wyoming. We pulled into a wayside stop somewhere in Utah to sleep in the car park. Boy was it cold!

Day 5
This was to be the best riding of the race. The valley and mountain road through Flaming Gorge was amazing.  We arrived at Flaming Gorge Harley-Davidson just after lunch. We were greeted by a lady from Australia whose daughter is the manager. The dealership really went out of the way with food and refreshments. We also caught up with a guy Lyn had been talking to on the Hoka Hey Blog, “Whiskey.”  This was the who offered us $500 towards the cost of renting the U-Haul in L.A. Leaving with Whiskey and a few of his mates, we road into the Wyoming plains across endless open grasslands – you could almost feel the buffalo. There seemed to be a lot of bikes looking for the same place, Chief Oliver Red Cloud’s home, which was a checkpoint. Riding through Wounded Knee in South Dakota made me think I was in the movies! We then rode back into Wyoming and on into Montana, where we were hit by a huge storm with lots of hail. We sheltered under an interstate overpass until the hail stopped. Needless to say, it was starting to get very cold. We were still with Whiskey and his mates when we stopped for the night.

Day 6
At first light, we were on US-212 and the US-87 headed toward Billings. Now the ride turned out as I expected – long days and long nights on the bikes. The first few days were stressful, confusing and very challenging as we negotiated in and around back streets, so I was happy to be on the open road. Friends of Whiskey’s, Bill and “Enigma” (nickname), pulled up as Bill was in a bit of pain. Lyn and I rode on towards Missoula. It was getting extremely cold and neither of us was handling it very well. Yet another information center provided us with a place to sleep.

Day 7
Arriving at Montana Harley-Davidson before they were open gave us some time to plan our next move. The bikes needed an oil change and Lyn needed a new back tire. Buying some over-pants helped to better prepare us both for the cold. We also learned Marc was in the front of the pack, but had a broken foot. I knew a broken foot wouldn’t stop him!
The riding became more enjoyable as we rode into Canada and British Columbia. We had eight hours of great riding, followed by eight hours of agony as we tried to stay awake as long as possible. The roads and scenery were fantastic, but it was still very cold. During a fuel stop and dinner in Radim Spring, the locals convinced us not to ride the next section at night as there was nowhere to pull up and wildlife, including bears, were everywhere! The road also had a lot of glaciers and it we knew it would be a fantastic sight in daytime, so we decided to stop at a campground and spent the night in a wet freezing swag!!

Day 8/9/10
I have combined the next three days as, although I remember what happened, the sequence of events is still confused. The locals were right, the Glacier Highway was spectacular. We crossed into Alberta, then onto British Columbia and then onto the famed Alaska Highway into Yukon. It was now really cold. The snow-capped ranges were never out of sight as we cruised through valleys and over mountain ranges. It was extremely hard to take photos as you had to stop, get the camera, get your gloves off, take the photo and get going again - only to find a better view around the corner! From the start it was difficult to make sensible decisions due to the extreme fatigue and at this point we needed to make a large one. The last checkpoint was about a 1,000-mile round trip, but the finish line was only a few hundred miles at one particular fork in the road. In our dazed state, as bike after bike pushed straight through to Homer and the finish line, I could not bring myself to take the short option. I woke on one of the mornings after a few hours sleep at the side of a service station to find Lyn sleeping on a pile of hoses, still in her wet weather gear and helmet but with the added accessory of a towel over her face (Alaskan mosquitoes are huge!). Our riding at this point took place on cold, wet and slippery roads. We also saw more guys on the side of the road asleep, wrapped in whatever they could find to stay warm or dry. One guy didn’t even make it out of the service station driveway before pulling over and falling asleep! The Alaska Highway offers a unique challenge for the unsuspecting: Permafrost dips. The road is not broken; however, it takes a sharp dip, compressing your suspension and spine without warning.

There was a long uphill section to the Alaskan border entry point that was thick with loose stone roadwork. We just gripped our bikes and held on as the river of stone washed us from one side of the road to the other. As we arrived at the border checkpoint, we realized that a guy that had tagged along with us was now nowhere to be seen so we guessed he had lost it in the stone wash. The home security guys were great and sent a patrol back to see if he was okay; luckily he had just stopped to rest. We arrived at the Harley-Davidson dealership in Fairbanks to find it closed and four other bikes waiting.  We made a call to the organizers who told us we could go into Homer or wait until the dealership opened. I could not believe (particularly in hindsight) that we were still trying to get to the finish as fast as possible. We knew the winners had crossed the finish line as I phoned Marc who had finished and he gave us directions. When we stopped for fuel in Anchorage, I decided to ring Mary-Jane who was flying into Anchorage on the 30th. Mary-Jane was on the way to the hotel in Anchorage and I still had five hours to ride to reach Homer; another temptation to stop. We arrived in Homer and rode to the end of causeway where we crossed a yellow line painted on the road.  There were no fans or staff at the finish line, so we had to be satisfied with the knowledge that we survived the race. On the way to find a hotel, “with a real bed and shower “I noticed a few people waving from a building and a big HOKA HEY sign. 
PS.  If I ever suggest anything like this to anyone, please punch me in the face!
The final numbers: 16 bikes destroyed, 2 dead, 2nd place awarded to Marc who had a broken foot, 1st female awarded to Lyn.

~ Geoff Trewin (Rocky Harley Davidson Australia)
Rockhamton, Queensland

Geoff Trewin and Lyn Lees

Bob Glaves 
The 2010 Hoka Hey Challenge was good for me. I met some real people on the trail. As we proceeded and the groups got smaller, we created a bond with each other and the experiences we shared will always be there. I learned a lot about myself during the 8,439 miles I rode. The history lesson I got from the ride and the visit with Chief Red Cloud were two of the highlights. The scenery was absolute!
 
I have travelled the U.S., but the ride allowed me to see more history than I ever thought was out there. The cemeteries we travelled through in the South were heart-wrenching. The Reservations we went through touched a place in me I didn't know existed.   The National Parks we rode through were grand! I am a strong willed person and a Veteran of the United States and yet it took a lot of determination to complete the Challenge.
I thank Jim and Beth again for all that they gave to me. Would I do the 2010 Hoka Hey again... absolutely!
~ Bob Glaves #240
Sterling, Alaska

Clark W. Brown Jr.
Without a doubt, this was the most intense and demanding motorcycle event I have ever endured.  The multiple Iron Butts and cross country rides I have done were nothing compared to this extreme test of navigational skills, endurance and overall intestinal fortitude!

This challenge was not only to see if the individual warrior would prevail, but how that warrior was at one with his machine when faced with the multifaceted environments introduced along an arduous and unanticipated route.  We encountered many road conditions not normally experienced, along with mechanical challenges that required special attention to detail and the willingness to say, “This will not stop me, I will NOT QUIT!” Unfortunately, many did quit at the slightest hint of an excuse.  That ‘don’t quit attitude’ is the testament of a warrior versus a common citizen or individual taking on the Hoka Hey Challenge.

If you are unsure of your abilities, stay home and rest in comfort; but if you have the warrior spirit in your heart, then come ride with me.  I don’t care what you ride, just ride!

~  Clark W. Brown Jr.
CW4 (R), USA
Chesapeake, Virginia

Clark Brown

Dale Galbraith
Well, I did see the finish line. It was not as I had hoped it would be, but God has been more than kind to me. He allowed me to come through the wreck without any major injuries. I am sore but can still get around. I flew into Homer today, and it is absolutely beautiful. I have not seen a Bald Eagle yet, but I am sure I will before I leave. Once again, I want to thank all of you for your prayers over the last few weeks. This trip has been an eye-opening event and has impacted my life more than I would have ever imagined. 

One thing that has special meaning to me...Gunny and I went to see Beth (with the Hoka Hey) at Chief Oliver Red Cloud's house on Sunday. We had seen Big Jim earlier, and he told us that Beth was about to go nuts since she had not heard from us. We pulled in to Chief Red Cloud's driveway and Beth came running outside to meet us. She had a tear in her eye and a smile on her face. She took us in to meet Chief Red Cloud and to have some lunch. Before Gunny and I ate, she asked us to sit on the couch and called Chief Red Cloud over. She asked Chief Red Cloud if he would have a prayer with us. The Chief explained that the Lakota people do not believe in church as a group but as an individual relationship between a person and God. He told us that he was going to say a special prayer for us and that he will pray in the native Lakota language. Chief Red Cloud grabbed my hand and Gunny and Beth placed their hands on top of ours. The Chief prayed for close to five minutes in the Lakota language.  When he was through, he looked at Gunny and me and told us that we are both special people. The prayer was a very moving experience for me. 

I will try to send you some pictures of Homer, Alaska and do a few more updates as the other challengers arrive. As of now, five riders have made it, but only three have been held for inspection. I am not sure if they followed all of the route or not. I will let all of you know who is declared the winner. I know I am a winner from the experience I have had through the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge. I hope they will do it again next year. (Hint, hint.)

~  Sincerely, 
Dale Galbraith

July 5, 2010
FLASH...Hoka Hey II will take place next year.  Looking for sponsors.  The ceremony at the Stone Step Estates was incredible.  Chief Red Cloud actually called in and gave a prayer to all that were in Homer.  He also said a prayer for the wounded warriors that did not make the ride or lost their life.  Unfortunately, there were three riders that completed the journey as God saw fit.  My thoughts and prayers go out to their families.  They were doing something they loved and believed in.  What an awesome way to live your life.  

I look forward to seeing all the people that I have met through this incredible journey somewhere down the road when our paths might cross.  Just remember to live in the spirit of the Hoka Hey.  As Jim Red Cloud said to me, "History comes to us once in our lives, and this is truly an historic event."  Hoka Hey II will be run, but the coins that all the challengers received will never be duplicated.  To all the people that lived this epic journey, you are a special breed of people.  We have helped and touched more lives than any of us can ever imagine.  With that being said, remember Hoka Hey.  It is a good day to die.  
To all the Hoka Hey organizers, thank you from the bottom of my heart for touching my soul in a way that you never could understand or imagine.  This has been a journey during which I have come face to face with the Great Spirit.  It has truly been a life-changing event, and for that I will be forever grateful.

~  Sincerely and Hoka Hey,
Dale Galbraith

Dale Strother

My name is Dale Strother and I was Hoka Hey Challenge rider number 383.  I made it to about the 3,000-mile point before a pickup truck turned immediately into my path in a dried up, near ghost town in the West.  The bike was totaled.  I was able to walk (limp) away.

I have read with interest the comments made by a lot of observers and even a few participants.   I want to add mine.

There have been a lot of complaints that the Challenge was unsafe.  Well, no shit.  The organizers never said it was going to be a cakewalk.  In fact, from the first thing I read, they promised to test us.  Anyone with any sense knows that if you take 1,000 motorcycles and 1,000 riders over 7,000 miles of back roads with $500,000 and a lifetime of pride at the end, people are going to push themselves to the limit.  When that many people push themselves to the limit over that kind of distance, someone will get hurt. I told my friends before I left Tennessee that some people would die on this ride.  That is why I wanted to do the first one.  I didn’t believe modern society would let them do two.  Modern “civilized” society doesn’t have the stomach for it.
On the contrary, I think it was a safe as could be expected or asked for.  The few rules stated that a speeding violation meant disqualification.  You could not use radar detectors, which certainly slowed people down.  There was no requirement to ride a certain number of miles in a day.  Technically, we were given two weeks to finish 8,000 miles.  That is less than 600 miles a day and very doable for most experienced riders.  I approached 1,000 a day and made every turn while I was a part of the Challenge.  I read nothing that encouraged novice riders to enter the contest.  No one was asked to exceed his or her personal limits of endurance.  Those who did, did so of their own choosing.

There have been complaints that it was not well organized or that the instructions were inaccurate or vague.    The organizers never said it was going to be easy.  I was as frustrated as anyone going across Alabama.  On Day Two I was suspicious and pissed.  However, I circled back and sometimes circled back again to find a road that I missed.  I asked locals and looked at maps till I found every darn road.  Yup, some small town in Alabama had changed the name of Dean Street halfway through.  Folks, the route was 8,250 miles!  As a former Marine and someone that spends a lot of time outdoors, I can tell you that the most current topographical map you can get will have errors based on erosion and other natural and man-made events.

The organizers evoked the spirit of the warrior within.  The early pioneers and Native Americans used their wits and the signs the land gave them to find their way through the wilderness.  We had instructions, road maps and access to locals for help.  Still, this may have been as close to that experience as modern men will ever have and I applaud the organizers for their effort.

As the route progressed, I became more and more impressed with their work.  They took us around city after city without exposing us to the heavy inner city traffic.  Where heavy traffic was unavoidable, such as crossing the Mississippi, we were in and out of it in a few miles and back on two-lane state and county roads. The routes were often rugged, but always beautiful.  Over and over, I found myself marking places on maps that I wanted to return to when I had more time.
I was forced out when a young man turned his full-size pickup into my path and I could not avoid hitting him.  My motorcycle was totaled.  I was bloodied and bruised.  I knew I was out of the money at that point, but I spent the next two days in a dingy hotel trying to work out another motorcycle so I could finish the course.  I regretted losing my motorcycle, but I hated not finishing the course more.

There is a saying among Harley riders and motorcycle enthusiasts in general, “If I have to explain it, you wouldn’t understand.”  That is how I feel about Hoka Hey.

I am proud I started.  I am proud I got as far as I did.  I hate not finishing.  To all who finished the course I say, “Well done.”  For the eventual winner(s), you are the iron man or men of motorcycle riding.  To the organizers, if the call ever goes out again, I’ll be there.

~  Ride on and drive on,         
Dale Strother
Rider #383

Valerie DeLaune, LAc

July 10, 2010
Letter to the Editor: (Homer News) 
I never thought I’d go to a “biker party” in my lifetime.  But with all the rumors about the Hoka Hey and whether or not it was a scam, I was curious.  I’d had a chance to check out some of these bikers − they went to the Laundromat just like me and they bought groceries just like me.  They didn’t look so scary, just tired. 
The event organizers were at the celebration.  They seemed very sincere to me, as I watched them address the bikers who had made it.  They grieved those who had fallen along the way and Jim Durham’s grandfather, Chief Red Cloud who had hosted the riders somewhere along the way, said a prayer in Lakota over a Skype call. It was very somber and emotional, and there was clearly a lot of pain.  From what I was able to gather from the address, the event was a fundraiser and the money netted from the event is going to several projects and organizations, such as bringing water to those who don’t have it on the reservation and mothers of soldiers who did not come home.  I can’t remember the names of the other beneficiaries.  But there was ample acknowledgement that the event had concluded with a very high price.  They said they had no intention of putting on the event again; that from the beginning it was a one-time thing.   

I made a point of talking to the bikers, to see who they were and how they felt about the ride.  It turns out they have day jobs just like me, but instead of putting on skis and goggles in their recreational time like me, they put on leathers and jump on a motorcycle.  As for the Hoka Hey event, many riders were riding in memory of their fallen war comrades and for them it was never about getting to Homer first.  As to the questions about the route, one rider told me that when he would get to a checkpoint and look at the next checkpoint on the route map, the route would meander and not be the most direct route, which puzzled him at first.  He then figured out they had built in opportunities to cheat, if one so chose.  He said that if a rider followed the maps and checkpoints, it was very clear.  He also said, “It was all about integrity.”  He stated that the staff did check ending mileage (and that they knew exactly how many miles should have been ridden), riders did take lie-detector tests at the end and that hair samples were taken to make sure riders had not taken amphetamines or other drugs to stay awake.  DMV checks were still in-process to make sure riders hadn’t gotten ticketed along the way.  All entrants were well-warned that they needed passports to get into Canada and that Canada was very strict about denying access to anyone with any kind of legal violations.  About 56 riders were turned back at the border.  For this man, it was a very spiritual journey.  He said he had a lot of realizations because of the time it forced him to spend with his own thoughts.  I’m sorry I don’t recall his name, but I had not thought at the time that I would be writing a letter. 

As I watched the riders interact with each other, I could see the bonds that had been formed over the course of the ride.  There was a lot of hugging going on in general. (I myself, a complete stranger up until that moment, was hugged several times!).  Later in the evening, when I was walking my dog, I passed a small group of riders camping next to the road.  Two of them had just gotten married on the spot.  After I talked to them, a couple of riders who had just made it into town rolled by.  Though this group was exhausted, they struggled to their feet and made sure their new comrades were welcomed.   

One of the things the riders kept expressing was how wonderful people had been along the way and how well they have been treated by the people of Homer.  They were just amazed at how welcomed they felt.  As for my fears about going to a “wild biker party,” I and a few other people closed the party down at about 1:45 a.m.  Almost all the bikers had either gone to bed or were sitting quietly around scattered campfires near their tents.  There were a few bikers standing quietly in the back behind the dancers, but most of the remaining crowd were die-hard Homer fans of Three Legged Mule, who played much later than expected. 

My overall impression from listening to the organizers and the finishing riders was that the organizers had tried to do a good thing, and it was a huge event to attempt to organize.  It sounds to me like they did their best to anticipate what they could, and gave fair warning to riders.  Safe riding was emphasized and troopers were asked to pull over riders that looked fatigued.  It says a lot to me that the organizers did complete the ride to Homer and stood before the crowd and acknowledged that some things did not go as well as hoped.  The celebratory finish line party was exactly as promoted.  The riders that made it to Homer were glad they did it, and it was a positive experience for them.  If it had been a scam, the promoters would not have come to Homer and the party would have been non-existent. They would have had nothing to gain by doing anything past the point of promoting the event and collecting the entrant fees.  I do think having the prize money for the first legitimate finisher isn’t such a good idea, because riders will focus on that and drive past the point of safety no matter the rules, which then endangers other people on the highways.  And motorcycles are inherently more dangerous to drive than a car; statistically they have more accidents, partially because they are less visible to other motor vehicles.  But it appears that to me that the organizers did not deserve to have their integrity attacked.  I felt I needed to speak out as an impartial observer. I’m glad I went and found out for myself. 

~ Valerie DeLaune, LAc
Homer Resident

John Clower
July 9, 2010

Hi, Beth.
If you’re reading this then you must be back too.  
You’ve taken crap by the truckload from every direction and I’m sorry if I ever contributed by piling on.  Maybe that was your own Hoka Hey Challenge; if so, persevering the way you have makes you one hell of a warrior.  Get the tattoo, kiddo; you deserve it as much as anyone. 

Over the years, my youthful “sail around the world” exuberance has been buried under the weight of everyday life.  But the Hoka Hey Challenge gave me a chance to re-discover parts of me I greatly miss and to find things I didn’t know were there.  And that’s the grand prize.  I had the time of my life, literally.  This experience could not have been had any other way. I wouldn’t trade it for anything and I’d sign up again in a heartbeat.   

You had some amazing helpers, Beth.  Mark, Robin, Boris, Caretaker and the others were all great.  I sincerely appreciate their help and, even more, their friendship.   

And now, for Jim.  Having a vision is no big deal.  We all have them all the time.  But you went on to the next step and executed the vision.  That is rare and highly commendable.  You have a great deal to be proud of, Jim.  There are plenty of critics.  Kind of like lawyers, way too many.  But those who can’t see past the administrative issues and recognize this immense accomplishment for what it is have never tried to turn a dream into reality.  You’ve touched many lives in a very meaningful way.  Those who finished in Homer will never forget what they learned along the way.  Those who didn’t finish will never understand.  

Please accept my most sincere gratitude. 
~ John Clower

July 7, 2010
Hello William, (William is with the Arizona Republic)
Just wanted to let you know I'm in Tok, Alaska and on my way back home to Arizona. I have had the time of my life being a Hoka Hey rider.
I have met people throughout my travels who ask whether I think the Hoka Hey and its organizers are legitimate. I have to tell you I think they are all a bunch of great people and they did a great thing.

I think the negative talk about this great event that we participated in was started by a bunch of old hens (some riders) who created a story and then had to “one-up” each other until it got out of control. Even the media is focusing on the ‘possible truths,’ rather than what took place.

I'm shocked at how fast some of the riders have forgotten all that was done to make this event great for all of us.

If the organizers are not legitimate and their intentions are not honorable, then they spent thousands of dollars for no reason.  They rented a convention center, bought us food, t-shirts, bandanas and Hoka Hey coins.  They arranged for seven checkpoints with trucks and trailers, not only meeting us at those checkpoints, but also watching over us as we slept in parking lots and more. They built support and had camera crews who were excited to meet us and passionate about the event at the checkpoints and along the way to cheer us on, interview us, etc.

They worked so hard to make this event something special. They worked hard to bring attention to the American Indian, taking us through numerous Indian Reservations, allowing us to meet the Chief of the Lakota Tribe and more. I sat at the Chief's table, I ate of his food and I got my picture taken with him.

The only ones who are disgruntled are those who set their sights on winning the gold and did not do so. The rest of us got way more than we ever expected or hoped.

I am saddened by those who have stirred up so much negative and untruthful stuff, trying to discredit those that made this wonderful event possible.

If the intent of the organizers was to skip with the money, they would have skipped before we showed up in Florida. They certainly wouldn’t have spent thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours meeting us all along the way, cheering us on, greeting and feeding us at the finish line and providing a celebration party.

It was a great event and I am very proud to have taken part in it and to have met the organizers. I am so proud to be a Hoka Hey rider.

~ Sam (last name may be First)

Picture of Chief Red Cloud meeting President Bill Clinton from Chief Red Cloud’s living room.

Mark Brodie
I had the pleasure of meeting Jim Red Cloud back in 2008 in Sturgis, South Dakota. I had done some work on his bike and he and I just hit it off. He told me about the Hoka Hey Challenge and "FASCINATING" was the only word I could use to describe it.

I continued to stay in contact with my new friend and finally at the 2010 Arizona Bike Week, he asked if my girlfriend and I would like to participate. We both eagerly accepted his kind invitation. On June 17, Robin and I boarded a plane for Key West and the next three weeks were ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS! Robin and I worked some of the checkpoints, drove Ms. Durham all the way to Missoula, Montana and then set off to Alaska. To say I had a life-changing experience would be putting it mildly. The scenery, the friends, the spiritual journey and getting to meet Chief Oliver Red Cloud were the highlights of the entire trip for me. Added to that were the 8,000+ miles Robin and I traveled over some of the most beautiful country God has ever created.

After the ride was over and we were in Homer, Robin and I discussed the change we saw in each other and in every one of the challengers we came to know throughout this whole magnificent event. They were able to find a hidden strength within themselves. More than once, I heard, "I am here to complete, not compete!" I was very proud of each and every one of the challengers, whether or not they made it to Homer.

It's hard to put into a few lines the true experience, you must live it yourselves!

Thank you, "HOKA HEY"
~  Mark Brodie

Terry Baker
Dear Jim and Beth,
As one of the organizers/participants, I would like to take this moment to reflect on the Hoka Hey Challenge. As you are both well aware I have been a part of this great adventure from the onset. I knew from the beginning what an enormous undertaking this event would be, what I didn’t know was how it would change my life.
I had the great fortune of meeting a lot of the riders at the many rallies we attended and witnessed the sincere questions, smack talk and bravado displayed.  What touched me most was the sincerity of some of the riders as to why, and I repeat why, they wanted to be a part of such a tortuous event. When I arrived in Key West and mingled with the Challengers it was evident to me that some of the dynamics of the event had changed. There was still a lot of chest thumping and talk of how certain people would leave others in the dust, but for many the meaning of the event had taken on a more solemn and spiritual tone.

I had the luck (or misfortune depending on how one looks at it), to check in almost every rider as they came to me to have their bike looked at. In was during the check-in process that I started to hear the stories. Almost everyone had a reason as to why he/she would ride. The veterans were riding for buddies lost in war that never had the chance, one woman decided to ride for a friend that was battling cancer and another woman was doing her bucket list knowing full well that this was more than likely the last ride of her life. As I continued to check the bikes in and hear the stories, each one touched me deeply.  The bravado and smack talk continued, but it had a different sound to it. Once strangers, the participants now flung the words around as if they had all known one another for a lifetime. One man who came to have his bike checked handed me a picture of his daughter that he had brought with him. The rider explained that he and his daughter were to do the ride together but she had died unexpectedly just two months prior at the age of 22. He asked me if we would post her picture for all to see.

The magnitude of what had been created in that little cabin at Bur Oak, Ohio began to dawn on me.  Peoples’ lives were changing. This wasn’t just a motorcycle ride − it was something bigger. As we scrambled from checkpoint to checkpoint amidst total exhaustion and chaos, we were being changed as well.
I could continue and go on and on about what we did at the checkpoints, but that has become a small part of the bigger puzzle. I remember finding grown men and women weeping on the side of the road because they had found strength in themselves that they didn’t know or had forgotten they had.  And, I can still see the smile on an old man’s face as men and women of honor rode up his driveway and allowed him to once again feel like the Chief that he truly is.

Some of us we had to reach deep into our pockets to make sure this momentous event was able to come about.  For me it was truly money well spent. Memories of this event and the friends I have made are priceless. My faith in humanity has been restored.
In closing, I would like to again thank you both and to also thank everyone that had a part in the Hoka Hey Challenge

~ Your Brother and Friend Forever, 
Terry Baker

Marc Storey
“Hoka Hey” now means so much more to me. I was truly blessed to be able to compete in this challenge and encounter the adventure that tested my spirit and character. The camaraderie and generosity of my fellow competitors was truly humbling, and gave me great faith and belief that humans can act with compassion and kindness towards one another. In this day and age of mass media we only see and hear the worst of humanity’s behavior to one another, but I now know we are able to act as brother and sister to one another.  

I endured fatigue like never before, helped friends who had accidents and mechanical problems, was helped by others when I ran out of gas and even suffered a broken foot with four days left to ride. But the memories of the beautiful scenery and the opportunity to clear my mind in the solitude of the ride overcame all of the adversity.  This event was one of the greatest personal challenges and opportunities to evolve as a person I have ever experienced. 

As a foreigner to your land, I learned so much about America and its people that I did not know before. But most of all, the challenge gave me a chance to learn a small bit about the Native American culture and the challenges the people face, which has helped make me a more understanding and tolerant member of the world community. 

Any regrets? Not one!

~ Marc Storey, Townsville, Queensland
2nd Place Finisher

Glenn Blackway
I was too tired to do anything thing but lay down on my jacket and sleep. However, I did not sleep much. Every time I heard a Harley growling by I'd wake up and realize I might be missing something, so after a nap (?) I'd jump back up on "The Great White Buffalo" and ride off again. 

Unfortunately, just before I got into Canada, I got hit by a near-sighted deer in Montana. I DID NOT HIT THE DEER. IT CAME OUT OF A DITCH AND RAN INTO THE BACK RIGHT CORNER OF MY SCOOTER (Harley Ultra Classic). I was really MAD, my first accident in 46 years. I am a member of the million mile club. I tried to go farther but my 3 broken ribs said otherwise. As of this note, my bike is still in the shop. At least I'm alive to talk about it, unfortunately for a few of the other guys and their families. I saw some of the accidents, I think we all did. 

~  Glenn Blackway, Huntington Beach, CA
Rider #250

Glenn Blackway, Rider #250, image 2

Glenn Blackway, Rider #250, Image 9

Glenn Blackway, Rider #250, doesn’t say who’s in the photo

Glenn Blackway, Rider #250, starting line

James Marrs
July 1, 2010
Hi, Beth.
Just a quick one to say I am doing fine and recuperating at home.  I expect to be well enough to return to work overseas on July 19th. Just being able to do the first day trip towards Daytona was a great ride in itself and I really wished I could have made the ending event in Homer. For me, it was never about the prize.  It was about testing my will and warrior spirit and making some great friendships along the way. 

I will always be grateful for the organizers who worked so hard to put this challenge together, and certainly for the other riders. Most of all, I'm proud to have contributed my funds toward the great causes and charities.  
Thank you for the wonderful memories.  
~James Marrs, Mobile, Alabama

Linda Heaton
July 1, 2010 (note, this is pulled out a kind of critical blog – may have been a comment to HH or to a blog writer with the general complaint that women were not recognized as warriors)

 Our sister Judy is doing this for the EXPERIENCE and we're sure she is having the time of her life!
 
THANK YOU FOR PROVIDING HER THIS OPPORTUNITY.
~ Linda Heaton
On behalf of Judy Wagner, Cave Creek, AZ

James Phipps
Hoka Hey Organizers, 
From the bottom of my heart I want to say thank you for this event.  When you guys said "challenge," you really meant it!  You have given me memories and a sense of accomplishment that will last me a lifetime.  I'm very proud that I completed the challenge and that I did it without the use of a windshield.  It had been a long time since I've been challenged on a personal level; whenever I considered stopping I remembered something my Dad taught me that I am now passing on to my children, “You start it, You finish it!”  That got me through many a day and got me all the way through to the finish line.  I hope you do not let any of the crybabies and whiners bother you or take away from the good things you have accomplished.  You have done a very positive thing for a great many people and you should be very proud of yourselves!  It was a pleasure to meet Jim, Beth and everyone else involved.  A special thanks to Chief Red Cloud for opening his home to us.  I wish you all the best of luck in your future endeavors and wish Mr. Red Cloud all the success in the world in getting his people water.  I hope we did Hoka Hey proud.  Again, my sincerest thanks and appreciation for this challenge, which has given me lifetime memories far more valuable than $500,000.  My congratulations to the winner(s), whomever they may be and my congratulations to you for putting on one outstanding challenge! 

~ James Phipps
#111

June 12, 2010
Andy Carr
HOKA HEY MOTORCYCLE CHALLENGE POEM
THE RACE

Hoka Hey,
The race is now on,
We’re all headed west,
And riding along.

Across the Southeast,
Along the Trail of Tears,
To the cold Northwest,
Remembering Chief Joseph’s fears.

Over the Alleghenies,
Through the Steelwalkers’ land,
To the Hurons’ Big Waters,
With its glistening white sand.

Through the land of the Talkers,
Of great Navajo fame,
With shouts of Ya Ta Hey,
And answering Hoka Hey.

Day after day,
The pipes of my Harley,
Sing me a song,
“Go Farther, Go Farther.”

A Gut Grenade,
And Gatorade,
And down the road we go,
Looking for a place,
At the end of this race,
Where the wind will never blow.

Around every curve,
Americas beauty,
Give Thanks to our God,
And the Soldiers on duty.

A gallded ass,
The Bikers bane,
Put on some Monkey Butt,
And kill the pain.

Are the skeeters in Alaska,
As big as the hoppers in Texas?
Do they all smell the same,
On hot steel enflamed?

My minds in a quandary,
What will I find,
When I come across,
That Canadian line?

It’s just more great friends,
From beginning to end,
A Warrior clan of brothers,
Of the great Harley V Twin.

An Ultra, a Wide Glide,
And a Road King I’m sure,
Will bring us all home,
After this arduous tour.

Day after day,
I ride in amazement,
Of my strong Harley steed,
As “We Roll” along the pavement.

How Willie G. and Karen and crew,
Keep making them better,
With the Feds in the brew,
Lord we’ll never know.

Sand in our eyes,
Cramps in our thighs,
Next stop more Monkey Butt,
Or I’ll scream to the skies!

HOKA HEY MOTORCYCLE CHALLENGE POEM
THE END

We’ve done some good deeds,
We’ve fought for our cause,
We want help for others,
 Without any applause.

The race is done,
The gold is gone,
But friendships we’ve made,
Will all linger on.

We’ll all Party Down’
In Homer at last,
And shoot off some fireworks,
Remembering our past.

Like Warriors of old,
Some stories will be told,
When all have come home,
Again to the fold.

For the rest of our days,
In the quiet of evening,
We’ll hear through the mists,
Hoka Hey!,
What a great day,
What a great ride,
In the Indian way.

~ Andy Carr

Whittany Crum
November 2, 2010
When I first heard about the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge, I honestly thought I was just promoting exactly what was advertised: a 7,000+-mile endurance challenge on your Harley Davidson. It turned out to be so much deeper than I imagined.  

This was no ordinary ride. This ride brought complete strangers together, who would normally never even take time to talk to each other on the street, other than perhaps a banal inquiry such as, “What’s your bike running?” or “Is that stock?” These strangers are now lifelong friends with phenomenal memories that will stay with them for the rest of their lives.  

This brings me to my experience … being involved in this challenge has helped me grow emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I now feel that I can tackle anything that lies in front of me. Whereas before I was very unsure of my capabilities.

In addition to the Challenge itself, the founder of this large event, James Red Cloud, also played a big part in my growth. I’ve been on the road with him for the past year, going from bike event to bike event. He’s not this monster some people make him out to be, and I was truly upset by some of the negative articles. I’ve seen James give food to so many families, turn their heat back on in winter when they have no money, put gas in cars so people can get to dialysis treatment and much more. He never boasted of such kind acts nor did he see recognition.  

Jim has saved my life in ways I can’t even put into words. Without The Hoka Hey I would have never met Jim or the organizers and had this experience to learn and grow as a person. I’m forever grateful for this opportunity to work for Hoka Hey. I thank God every day.
~ Whittany Crum

Vik Livingston
The Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge changed my life!
Sitting in the mandatory meeting with my fellow participants I had no clue how this experience was going to be a life-changing event for me on so many levels. Hearing the Chief talk about the reasons for the race, the poverty we would encounter, the lack of clean running water and lack of support for his people, it became so clear for me that this was something I had to do. I was in the right place, at the right time.

I had wanted to go on a long challenge like this for a long time.  It was always on my "bucket list" of things to do. The incredible beauty of this land moved me deeply and, as the miles went by, I was constantly inspired by such beauty. I also saw such abject poverty. It was heartbreaking but I was glad to be able to stop and spend money in places like this. I know it helped.

This ride challenged and changed me in many ways – allowing me to accept love and support from complete strangers, to see old and cherished friends and to make new ones. The unknown roads I trusted because the Hoka Hey guides had ridden on them (more than once, no doubt). The new experiences I had and the stories and memories I have to share now are a part of who I am and always will be. It was not just a physical journey for me, but a spiritual one also.
Even though I did not finish the challenge this time, I want to say what an honor it was to meet the Chief of the Lakota People, and what an honor it was to participate in the Challenge.

Would I participate again? There's a finish line in my near future!
Thank you for the honor in being chosen to participate in this life-changing challenge.
~ Vik Livingston

E.B. Chester
August 6, 2010
Letter to Rapid City Journal
I just read the article posted on the internet referring to a formal complaint being filed against Hoka Hey organizers, Jim and Beth Durham. 
I participated in the entire event.  I rode the route and finished approximately 115th.  I didn't do it for the money, but was always competitive in my approach to the ride. 

I know of nothing associated with the race that was "disrespectful,” "intimidating" or that fit any other derogatory description used in this report.  I know different people can see the same event and have different reactions but mine were all positive.  The organizers did exactly what I expected and the Challenge, or race if you prefer, was a complete success.  It was the single best use of one thousand dollars in my lifetime. 

I understand that the prize money has been paid.  I have no independent confirmation of this, but have some evidence it is a fact.  If this is a fact, it may serve to dispel some of the negative press surrounding this event. 
I simply thought you might like to hear a positive voice supporting the event.  It was an extraordinary success.
~ E.B. Chester

Cleveland Brown
When I first heard about the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge, I was at a place in my life where the time to participate was not something I could hope for. Fortunately for me, God had other plans. I tried to go one way and he sent me another by taking away all other options until I could see that I had no choice but to go on the journey from Key West, Florida to Homer, Alaska. What I once thought was a race has turned out to be an incredible journey through the human spirit and the path to love, honor and respect.

What made it so special were the hundreds of people I took it with.
Although the numbers decreased by nearly three quarters along the way, everyone who made it all the way to Homer was a winner. They all got something out of it that was unique and, in many cases, life changing. In the beginning, they were a group of strangers from various parts of the globe who thought as I did, that they were about to begin a race. Each had their own reasons for being there and each paid a price for what they saw and learned along the way. Two of the riders paid the ultimate price with their lives.

The Hoka Hey taught something I may never be able to describe. It served to help me find my purpose for a brief time. Kelly from New Jersey put it best when I expressed a touch of jealousy for not getting to ride in the Hoka Hey. She looked at me with tears of joy in her eyes and said, “You have the most important job to do. You have to tell the story for all of us.” My jealousy was immediately humbled away as I realized how much truth was in her words. It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about her. It was about all of us doing something that none of us could do alone. My job is to help them tell their own story.

Jim Red Cloud and his wife, Beth Durham, put the Hoka Hey together to teach people about love, sacrifice, honor, respect, faith and doing more for other people. There were a few who accused them of being in it for less than honorable reasons. To them I’d say, “Bad on ya.” After spending time with them and their people, I would say that there are few in this world with such a capacity for goodness. Anyone who takes the time to learn from them will walk away with a sense of duty to serving a higher purpose.

If you look up the meaning of Hoka Hey on the Internet, the most common translation you’ll find is, “It’s a good day to die.” After witnessing it first hand, one can see that it has many meanings. Hoka Hey means: I respect you; let’s ride; hello my friend, it’s good to see you; prepare for battle; live with honor and die with dignity; and, always do the right thing.

There are people everywhere we look who are suffering and who need help. If we open our hearts, we can’t help but to see them with our eyes. We are selfish, ignorant and lost as people when we close ourselves to the plight of others. No matter how well off we may become, there will always be something missing in our lives because we are missing the point. Jim and Beth understand these things and have started a ripple in a pond that has the potential to grow into a tidal wave. If you doubt them, ask the two hundred riders who actually made it to Homer.

~ Cleveland Brown (cameraman)
Cleveland Brown

Grant Grieve
October 31, 2010
Hello, my friend. In answer to your questions, the main reason that I took on the challenge was the size of it. To travel from New Zealand to the United States and to ride nearly four thousand miles to get to the start of the race, to be in the race and then to ride all the way back to Florida again was such a huge deal for me. The main reason that I did not stop riding was that firstly, I had nowhere else to go. Secondly, with the proud history that our small country has, I just wanted to finish the race and could not come home without doing that.

There were several sections that I was not really focused on racing as I was so taken by the scenery and the wildlife that I was seeing.
I do hope to come back and compete in August and, if I do, I will be much more competitive than the original Hoka Hey.
I don’t have a lot of photos for you, but I would like to have some of yours if you would let me.
Thank you, my friend.  Please pass on my regards to Jim, Beth and the team. All is well here in Christchurch although, nearly two months after our earthquake we are still shaking from time to time.
~ Grant Grieve, Christchurch, New Zealand

Robbie Vinson
To my friends, supporters and loved ones,
My apologies that I have not kept many up-to-date so far.  As of now, I still have not finished.  I am currently broken down in Fairbanks.  Rather not discuss how I got here.  HD will finally make repairs tomorrow and I will continue on my way to Homer.  Roughly 700 miles to go.  But, if on par so far (and I choose to not listen to others), the route will probably be closer to 900 or 1,000 miles lol.  I have had my trials and tribulations on this course for sure.  Lovely Pam has probably called it the closest.  She was not only sure I would come back a different man, but she was truly concerned − if not afraid − that she will no longer know me as I was.  I am here to tell you that will most definitely be the case!  Not even sure I will be able to share many portions of this journey for a long time, if ever.  Thinking I may choose to invite people to one night where I will go over the route with maps and what stories  I feel  I can freely share.  This was more than an endurance run and more than just a race.  Jim Red Cloud had tears in his eyes at the riders’ meeting when he shared the truth of his intentions.  Many did not believe him, many quit after the first day.  So many more quit every day after that.  We no longer knew who was even on course.  The rumors are out of control that this was a scam.  For it to be a scam only means that my selfish brothers who share this planet with all of us were exposed for who they are.  This was never about a chance to win a half million dollars, nor was it ever a chance to prove you could be the first person to Homer.  It was exactly what it became.  A chance for men and women to prove their honor, integrity, guts and determination.  It became an issue of propping up your fellow rider and convincing them to ride on against all odds.  At the same time it was a challenge not to ride away from your brother in the desire to win.  I was caught in both of these dilemmas many times.  My friend Ken Greene has a list of bikers’ creeds on his My Space page.  One really hit me hard after realizing his loss of life so close to the finish.  It was this, “If you ride too fast you only guarantee that you will ride alone.” I lived to regret that same thing exactly.  When four of us were piled up in Montana, I chose to ride off into the night as they bedded down.  As I entered the most desolate and longest stretches of this journey through BC and the Yukon Territories it became real for me.  With broken ribs, a broken starter, two day of freezing rain and temps not to rise above 40 degrees, I found my demons.  Still other members of our society came to my aid when  I was down the most and was ready to give up.  When I say give up, let me illustrate:  Have you ever looked at a bear alongside the road and, in a crazy moment, thought it would be easier to wrestle him than to go on for another mile?   Never thought I would either. 

This is not over for me yet.  Red Cloud was honorably seeking real men and women of strength and integrity to help repair the Native Medicine Wheel.  Not part of my direct culture or upbringing but perhaps part of a past life or true genetics.  Being adopted at birth I have no idea of my heritage.  I did take on Red Cloud’s challenge to collect spirits and return them to a central point for the specific travels home.  I will be going there to let them know I am willing to do this journey a hundred more times before my life ends if there is any truth to my ability to help.  Currently I may have a number of spirits along with me.  One of whom is very powerful and not just a ghost rider beside me like others.  This man, “War Eagle” from Oklahoma joined me in the hills of Arkansas.  When I say joined me, it was like this.  Just above War Eagle Creek south of Huntsville, Arkansas I felt his energy at what was a natural stone arch − not unlike those you see in the sandstone of Utah.  I let out an Indian whoop, waved my arms and said, “Come with me.”  That spirit totally entered my body from head to toe!  Chills overcame me, hair stood on end and I was not able to stop crying for over ten miles.  These sensations have not left me until this day.  He and I have some similar values for sure!  I still think my accident, BTW the only time I have ever gone down in a street bike in my life of street riding (which is over 25 years), was due to his trying to adjust from riding a pony to riding my steel horse.  Let’s just say he only gets one half of the controls for now.  Never knew a spirit would love riding as much as I do.  This man loves to go fast maybe even more than I do.  You should feel the chills he gives me when he thinks it is getting really good!  You may question the previous entry. But, I have had events (some of which are documented on tape) of how all my technology was taken away from me for this journey.  Along with other unexplainable things that took place.  But made me prove myself even more the hard way!

As for the Medicine Wheel, it is broken: man is greedy, self-centered and willing to screw his neighbor in a second if it leads to his own personal gain.  This must be overcome!!  I truly believe in the fact that a change is coming.  Not a change in the sense of the end of the world, but a change in the sense of an end to the world as we know it.  Our current generation has just witnessed the best time on the planet that has ever yet to be seen.  When this change comes fewer of us than you can ever imagine will come out the other side.  Yes I believe there is hope that after this happens life on the planet may be the most peaceful ever.   I have chosen long ago never to pro-create, yet I still feel a need to help bring change.  Perhaps this was the beginning of that for me… Ride on my brothers and sisters, as only the few who know the feeling of the open road can truly understand even portions of what little I have been able to share here.  I am still on my way home, even if I don’t know where home is any more. 

~ HOKA HEY,
Robbie Vinson

Jeff Poole
The lure of the Hoka Hey is something that no true motorcycle enthusiast can ignore.  It's the chance to go out and do something that you love, with the added opportunity to rank yourself against others and potentially win a very lucrative prize.  In the beginning, I think it's the money that pulls most people in.  After all, it's a huge time and financial commitment, which most of us don't have the luxury to spare, so there needs to be some justification for why you would let someone else call the shots, instead of planning your own trip and making your own rules.   

During registration in Key West, I remember everyone (including myself) standing around sizing up the competition, trying to figure out who would be a true competitor.  Most everyone was thinking about the money, and very few believed Jim Red Cloud when he mocked us and told us that we would all be challenged.  A day into the competition, however, all had changed.  The roundabout path to a destination and heavy rainstorms were just the beginning.  Seeing fellow bikers just ahead of you go down on the pavement was a vivid reminder that this wasn't all fun and games. 

Eventually though, we would learn that the organizers had done us great favors in designing a route like no other.  It was as if they had gone out and talked to people all over the country and asked them where they go on a Sunday afternoon if they only have an hour to ride, and then they had taken all of these backwards routes that only a local would know, and strung them all together for a 9,000-mile route that's as pleasurable and relaxing as your Sunday afternoon getaway.   For those of us that made it long enough to forget about the cash, the route turned out to be worth more than all of the gold in Alaska. 

The other thing that exceeded my expectations was the camaraderie.  It felt like a continuous line of motorcycles stretched out over 9,000 miles.  At every stop and every gas station, you'd see another Hoka Hey rider, and you knew that no matter where they were from, they were just like you.   In meeting them, there was already a mutual respect for them, knowing how far they had just come.  People that we had viewed as competitors just a few days before were now buddies whom you could turn to and say, "This is awesome."  If you had time, you could stand there for hours and elaborate.  More frequently, however, you'd both just grin like young children playing with their friends because you knew you didn't have to explain.  Then, you'd get back on your bike and ride.   

~ Jeff Poole

Judy Wagner
According to Webster’s Dictionary, the word Challenge is defined as, “ issue an invitation to compete against one esp. in single combat, dare, defy;  a stimulating or interesting task or problem.”   This is what the organizers of The 2010 Hoka Hey clearly presented.  They gave us the tools to go forward; however, it was up to the individual rider to draft their own plan based on the information provided.

The Hoka Hey organizers had been quite clear as to what the rules were.  Clearly stated, if you weren’t in it for the money then you could ignore all the rules, but if you were chasing the cash then it was up to you to take on the full challenge and be responsible for your honesty, integrity, fortitude and perseverance. The carrot, $500,000.00: for the first participant who completed the 7,000 + miles and could prove they had followed all the rules without exception.

In my opinion, the organizers were steadfast in their commitment, earnest in their organization, honest in their representation and forthcoming with the reward.  I would personally like to express my gratitude for all their efforts and look forward to participating in the 2011 Hoka Hey 3-48 Challenge.

~ Judy Wagner, Cave Creek, AZ

Kelly McConnell
The first time during the Hoka Hey that I considered I might die was on the second day. It was about 4 a.m. and I was riding alone through dangerous unpaved mountain roads trying to make it to the second checkpoint. I had been riding for almost 24 hours. I was exhausted and my ego had quit working somewhere in Florida. At the very moment that I had accepted I might not finish the challenge, I saw the headlight of another challenger. That night, I became part of a rolling tribe of riders that began to team up to make it through the night together. By 11 a.m., I found myself riding into the second checkpoint with 8 other challengers. It was then, that I began to understand what my Hoka Hey was about, and what the journey was meant to teach me.

It is with complete and total certainty that I say, participating in the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge was the best personal journey that I have ever had in my life. The event established the foundation for an unexpected spiritual journey of epic proportions. My Hoka Hey experience consisted of facing myself in a way that I had never expected. I was faced with every possible emotion that a human can experience and challenged physically, psychologically and spiritually. The lessons that I learned about attitude, fear, friendship, perseverance and faith have left me a changed person. The motorcycle ride was fantastic, witnessing the beauty of two countries. However, the personal journey was more majestic than any mountain range I rode by.

The woman that crossed the finish line in Alaska was a far cry from the woman that left Key West on June 20. Every day of the event was another opportunity to learn something about myself, life and the people that I was blessed to ride with. The only regret I have about the Hoka Hey was entering it with expectations, as I wasted some time being attached to what I thought it should have been instead of realizing the truly exceptional experience that unfolded every moment of the ride. Hoka Hey!!!

~ Kelly McConnell, Mine Hill, NJ

Larry Berland

At the start of the AlCan Highway with a rainbow at their backs stand Larry Berland (left), Clyde Swaby, Ed Lewis and Dano Shackelford.
Fellow Challenger, Russell Flickinger, took this photo.

Mark Wilson
I first heard of the Hoka Hey Challenge at the Easyrider Motorcycle Rally in Chillicothe, Ohio, where I saw Jim and the crew stationed in the campground. What attracted me was the big tepee they had there. While checking out the tepee, Jim proceeded to tell me about the baddest ride ever thought up. A 7,000+-mile, two-lane ride across America and Canada, ending in Homer Alaska. Camping with the bike the whole time was another twist that intrigued me. Two years of waiting and some practice runs using mostly two- lane roads and camping with the bike, prompted me to invent what is now known as the Rider's Rest Hammock. A hammock like no other, it attaches to the bike only − no trees needed. After camping on the ground and waking up to moist or wet camping gear, and knowing that I would have to pack fast and move on in order to make good time on the Hoka Hey, I knew I had to make the hammock a reality. As it turned out, the hammock also kept me out of the rocks and away from the ground crawlers.

Off to Key West I rode with a couple of friends from my home area that were in the Hoka Hey as well. Bill "Batman" Pixler and Michael "Enigma" Mendell shared the road south with me. We pulled out of Key West on June 20, 2010 and started the amazing ride of the Hoka Hey. What a ride, what an adventure! The best ride I have ever experienced in all my riding days. We hit all kinds of weather, from humid 105 degrees, rain, dry 115 degree heat, hail, sleet, snow and bitter cold. But what beautiful landscapes and sites we encountered.

Some of the more memorable parts of the ride were the times spent alongside fellow Hoka Hey riders. And, when Chief Red Cloud signed my windscreen at his house where we stopped for some sandwiches and soup. The most spiritual impact for me was when I was deep into the Challenge and decided to separate myself from all others for my last putt. I pulled into Haines Junction on the edge of the Yukon at 3:30 a.m. after a 19-hour day of riding to sleep. Waking up at 6:30 a.m. and crossing the Yukon on the Alcan Hwy. This place, combined with the days of solitude on your iron horse, makes you reflect on the significance of your own being. When you are riding across the Yukon you don't dare take too many chances; as Chris Callen said in his interview, “There are no do-over’s on the Alcan.” You can sense this as you putt across the wilderness. One mistake could land you in the bushes unable to help yourself and, with little to no traffic, Mother Nature could just eat you up before anyone could find you. Take that thought and, at the same time, appreciate your surroundings for what God has made and what you are now taking in with all your senses. It makes for one hell of a ride, my friends. Twenty-five hours after pulling out of Haines Junction I found myself pulling into Homer, 11 days after the start at 7:30 a.m., saddened that the ride had come to an end. The whole ride from the time I hit the Alaskan border, I kept thinking to myself, “How am I ever going to fulfill my adventurous spirit after a ride like this?” ....Hoka Hey 2011!!! 3/48 baby

IT'S ALL ABOUT THE RIDE,
~ Mark Wilson, Albright, WV
WISKYBILT CUSTOM SCOOTERS 'N PARTS

Bryana Mason

When I arrived in Key West FL, I had no idea what to expect − except for a life-changing experience. After all the hard work of getting sponsors and raising money for my friend Danere with Breast Cancer, I was ready to fight to finish. Once I started meeting the people that were about to embark on this amazing journey I was blown away at the bond we all shared, and that was the love of riding. It wasn't the money, but the ride!

I took off on June 20th alone and rode with one intention, to see and take it all in. I got to experience more emotions than I knew I had and, as a woman, that was astonishing! I told myself and my best friend Tony, who was my support team going into the Challenge, that I would not complain one time during the challenge or I owed him $1,000. Well, I am proud to say I didn't complain once!

I do have to say (even though I almost hit 11 deer, two big horned ram, one elk and a buffalo), I didn't have one flaw in the Challenge. Only by the grace of God was I not distracted from this experience to the fullest. I got to sleep outside and wake up to snow everywhere in an airport in Canada and, thanks to fellow rider Rob from Pittsburgh who shared his tent, I was able to rest and keep going in the crazy rain, sleet, hail and snow! I almost died in Utah falling asleep (which is something I didn’t know was truly possible) riding on a back road I plan on re-visiting during the daytime, but woke up at the last second to pull out of it. Needless to say, I pulled over and took a nap.

When I saw the sign that Homer was 10 miles away I started crying. I was sad it was over! I was so overwhelmed at the thought that I had ridden 9,000 miles alone, outside in the elements and the people I gotten to meet, the tears, laughter and excitement, that I didn’t want to cross the line. I wanted that feeling of accomplishment to last forever. Now, four months later I still feel the same way when I ride and am happy that the feeling never subsided.

Thank you to the organizers who did the best job! I am proud to have been a part of the founding Challenge and will do ANYTHING to be there next year!!!!
Much Love,
~ Bryana Mason, Long Beach, CA

Bill “Batman” Pixler

For me the Hoka Hey was life changing. It made me look deep inside my soul. You may think you know what it takes to participate. But I can tell you that you have no idea. For me to pick one thing about the ride would be an injustice to the experience of a lifetime. I will say that what I took away from this is respect for every rider who showed up in Key West and for the organizers who put this on. The only thing you need to bring on this ride is your soul.

~ Bill "Batman" Pixler, Morgantown, WV

Gib Donovan

I was a rider in the first Hoka Hey. I was unable to finish and that will haunt me the rest of my life. It was the hardest decision I have ever made to stop and return home. It was also the most amazing ride I have ever been on. I guess what I’m trying to say is that even if you don’t cross the finish line it will be the most unbelievable ride you are ever associated with. I made new friends. I saw amazing things − not all which was the scenery. I saw people react in caring and helpful ways to fellow riders. I went to the home of a man who, for the most part, distrusted the white man and was fed and offered shelter. I don’t have words to describe how it is to ride the Hoka Hey other than it is life changing. It changed my life. There are not too many days that go by that I don’t think about my time on the Hoka Hey. There are not too many days that go by that I don’t think of riding the Hoka Hey again.

~ Gib Donovan, Reno, NV

Jeff Owings

Jim, Beth and the rest of the team.
When I met you in Daytona and signed up I knew it would be the ride you said it would be… and it was. Even though I finished with the others in injured reserve and didn’t qualify, I am MORE than pleased with the experience of being in the ORIGINAL Hoka Hey. I told you I would make in at any cost, so I couldn’t quit. Thank you for giving all those who showed up in Homer, the chance to be ‘the point’ on this worldwide event. To accept a challenge that only those who don’t fear the unknown would take – and push to the end.

Your destination in life depends on the journey,
Your legacy is also determined by that journey.
Choose well. Every choice has its circumstances.
Destiny lies before us, all will ride out but not all will finish.
Ride hard, to finish is the prize.
Hoka Hey !!!
I salute you and everyone involved.

~ Jeff Owings

Alex Sweeny

Jim/Beth;
I simply want to say thank you for the most incredible experience of my life. I simply do not understand the negativity. When I see and hear the negative comments being written and said about the HokaHey I am disappointed and unable to understand the nature of it. The cost of entry ($1,000) was a cheap entry fee to spend two weeks with others who were on the road with the same goal. I got exactly what I expected no more and no less. At the meeting before the race Jim said that it was not a race but a challenge and it will break you both physically and mentally….it will take you to places you have never been. I got more then I could have ever imagined from the challenge. It certainly took me beyond what I thought was possible and I am sorry for those who were unable to have the same experience that I did. For me it was never about the money only about the ride. God bless you and know there are those who love you for the gift you gave us.

~ Alex Sweeney

Kelly Perkins

It was not about the cash-It was not about the time
It was answering a call. When the day comes that no one person answers it will be the end for us all.
Thank you Jim and Beth-If ever there was a time in my life i needed to ride out-last June was it.
Let us Ride-To our Death.

~ Kelly

Jim Herold

On my way back to the Lower 48 from Homer, Alaska, I was going about 72 miles per hour in British Columbia when all of a sudden, I hit a hole. I hit so hard it stunned me. It felt like someone took a sledge hammer and tried to drive me in the ground and the bike shook and bounced up and down. I was able to keep it up, but the front tire was busted and the front wheel flattened. After I got back, I found out the bearings in the front were messed up, the switch was busted and both bolts that hold the bottom of the shocks were bent.

I was able to get it to the side of the road without putting it down. My cell phone and some other stuff had popped out of the front storage compartments when I hit the hole. I started walking back to retrieve these items when all of the sudden a Grizzly came running towards me. They say you’re not supposed to run but you couldn't tell my feet that.

I ran back to the bike, was lucky enough to pick the right bag to get my bear spray. I also knew I was supposed to have a hunting knife in the same pocket. I was searching for it when I looked up and the bear had stopped. This sounds like a long time, but it was only seconds. Keep in mind, neither of these weapons would have helped a darn bit because the wind was blowing pretty hard in my face and a hunting knife against a Grizzly???? I guess that's the kind of thinking you get with sleep deprivation and fatigue.

Anyway, it was just me, momma bear and her two cubs staring at each other. Still as a mouse. I was on a 2-mile straight stretch with not a soul nearby. After about 10 minutes, I could see a truck with a camper on it coming my way. I waved him down and explained to him what had happened.

I wanted to get my cell phone so he backed up with me walking along side, giving me an escape path in case the bear decided to charge again. Walking back, her two cubs stood on their back legs looking at me like, "Momma, is that going to be our dinner?"

This nice gentleman took me to the nearest place, which was 14 kilometers south. The tow truck picked me up about 2 hours after getting my call. They towed me for 2 hours and we arrived at 2 am and I became the junk yard dog until midnight. At midnight, another tow truck picked me up and we headed to Whitehorse, Yukon and arrived at 6 am. Total time of 30 hours!!!!

I got a room and was back at the Harley shop before it opened. The General Manager came out and said they were not open yet but could offer me the use of the bathroom and a cup of coffee. I told him about meeting him the year before but said this year I have a serious problem. I showed him my bike. He said, "I've got a wheel on its way." I got a cup of coffee and we chatted a bit and a truck pulled in and he said, "Here comes your wheel." They put a new tire on the used wheel (which matched perfectly) and I was out the door by noon. What great service by the Whitehorse Harley Davidson dealership!!!!

Thanks to Beth and Jim for a great ride.

~ Jim Herold, Moncks Corner, SC

Dennis Yeager

The Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge: My Story

It all started by taking a trip over to the Harley Davidson shop in Galena, IL in mid-January 2010. I picked up a Full Throttle Magazine and saw the ad for the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge. I then got online and looked up all the info I could find about the Challenge. The more I read about the Challenge, the more I wanted to be involved. I sent in my entrance fee of $1,000.00 so I could reserve my place in the Challenge, and then I started to see if I could come up with some sponsors. Next I needed to get my bike up to Flying Eagle Motorcycle to check it out and make sure it would be able to make the run of around 14,000 miles. In late March, the bike made the trip to the shop for two new tires and a once-over. That “once-over” ran into a whole new motor and, lots of dollars later, the bike came home in late May. Randy Erdman put the break-in miles on the bike, and I put a few more on before heading out for Key West, FL on June 15th, 2010.

June 11th, 2010

Some of my friends came in from Toledo, OH to help me kick off the start of the Hoka Hey. We all had a little party at Poopy’s Pub in Savanna, IL. A few other friends stopped in from around the area to see me off.

June 12th, 2010

The group rode up to the Beowulf M.C. LTD summer party in Darlington, WI, and another good time was had by all. Again, I got to see a lot of other friends that wished me well.

June 14th, 2010

Went through all the donations that were given to me for the Hoka Hey. It came out to be a lot more than I could have hoped for!! I thank each and every one of you that put something into the hat to help me along. (I’m sorry that I didn’t make the whole trip, damn accident anyhow.) Some gave as little as $5.00 and some as high as $500.00. Thank you all again for your help on this ride.

Here is a list of everyone that gave me a donation, in random order:

Dan Foley, Lena, IL; Flying Eagle Motorcycle, Campbellsport, WI; Jeanette Yeager, Freeport, IL; Bethany Buisker, Freeport, IL; Eastland Motor Sports Inc, Lanark, IL; Dave T. Harlan, Phoenix, AZ; ABATE of Freeport, Freeport, IL; Alden Fehr, Freeport, IL; Brian Wing, Freeport, IL; Bush & Deb Meglitsch, Toledo, OH; John Chionchio, Grant Pass, OR; Lena Fire Department, Lena, IL; Little Johns Tap, Pearl City, IL; Pearl City Fire Department, Pearl City, IL; Polo Fire Department, Polo, IL; Sauk Prairie Harley Davidson, Sauk City, WI; Steinmann Stainless Fab, Inc. Monroe, WI; Titan Tire Workers, Freeport, IL; Uncle Jack Mellnick, Lewisville, TX; Virgil “Wolf” Schulenburg, Sauk City, WI; Ronald “Trog” Spence, Cambridge, IL; Whitey Iron Horse Tap, Lena, IL; Al & Jayne Buisker, Freeport, IL; Bill & Deb Rosemeier, Pearl City, IL; Dave Bremmer, Dakota, IL; Marjorie Niesman, Pearl City, IL; Richard “Spoon” Lindburg, Cambridge, IL; Richard Westlake, Rockford, IL; Brain & Michelle Norton, Plano, TX; Bruce & Kim Haro, Freeport, IL; Bob & Jill Mellnick, Pearl City, IL; John Bradley, Sheffield, OH; Richard Wilson, Freeport, IL; Robbie Cook, Baileyville, IL; Bob Stewart, Cedarville, IL; Butch Thommen, Warren, IL; Randy & Nancy Pfile, Tripoli, IA; Scott Gerke, Freeport, IL. Along with all the ones that did a lot of praying for me too.

June 15th, & 16th, 2010

Took off for Key West, FL with three bikes loaded into my trailer. Joined by Bill Reynolds, another challenger from Woodstock, IL and Ray Mogensen, from Round Lake, IL who will drive the truck & trailer back home with the help of his wife who is flying into Miami on the 18th. We stopped in Mount Vernon, IL to pick up Terry Noffsinger from O-Fallon, IL. (Also a challenger). It started to rain around Effingham, IL and continued all the way to Nashville, TN. At times it rained so hard we had to slow down to 30 mph on the interstate. We drove straight through to Homestead, FL where we got two rooms at a motel for the night June 16th. The rest this night was needed big time.

June 17th, 2010.

We are now in Key West, FL checking into area motels and camp grounds. Bill & Ray are in the Marriott where everything with the Hoka Hey will be happening. Terry is going to a campground and I am headed to the Quality Inn, which is just across the street from the Marriott. I took a little trip downtown to look around but forgot my camera. (Damn). Back to the motel and then back downtown again. I got to meet Joe Klan from New York City, who is retired from the NYPD. Plus, Arnie Olinger (Oley) & his wife, Sue, from Jacksonville, FL. And a few more people whose names we can’t remember. Bethany called to say she made it to Stockbridge, GA for the night. She rode all the way from Freeport. She said she had a lot of rain from Paducah, KY to Nashville, TN also.

June 18th, 2010

Check-in time is 1 pm for me and my bike. There is a reception from 6-9 pm in the ballroom at the Marriott to meet and greet most of the other challengers. We have a mandatory riders meeting June 19th, 5 to 8 pm at the Marriott. Take off time is Sunday June 20th, 2010 with a line-up from 4 to 6 am to take off for Homer, AK. I had breakfast with Oley & his wife. Talked to a man from Cortez, CO. He is 70-years-old and riding all the way. I bought a ballcap from him that said Key West, FL to Homer, AK 2010 7000+ miles. I am seeing more & more & more riders coming into town. More & more names to remember and I’m not doing so well with this. A lot of talk of rule changes, no money, not going to be on TV. Just all kinds of shit. I hope the riders’ meeting puts a little better light on things to come? Noon to 2:45 pm to get all checked in. Turns out that I’m #193 and I signed up in Feb. 2010 (I was thinking I was in the 500s or so since I signed up so late). I’m still not sure how many are on the ride yet, or signed up. Word has it only 500 to 850 riders?? Talk has it over 3,000 put in to ride and they would not take them all. I found out that if I would have been at the check-in door at 8 am this morning I could have a lower number to start out the ride, but I waited till 1 pm like I was told to do. Ran into another Chicago Land Rider and a young man named Angle just out of the USMC with time in Afghanistan. Also two men from Milwaukee, WI area. Bethany should be in at anytime now. She got into Key West around 10:45 pm and has ridden in a lot of rain on this trip so far. We were all told that our sign-in number would be our starting number. Well that was not the way it happened; instead it was first come, first served.

June 19th, 2010

Bethany & I went downtown to take some pictures at the southern-most point of the USA. I will be taking some more pictures along the way and in Homer, AK too. Eight to ten days and 8,000 miles later I hope to be in Homer, AK. (Mileage for the ride was anywhere from 8,400 to 9,500 miles). The Riders meeting was just like I thought it would be!! Long and a lot of B.S. The same question over and over again. Some rule changes that I knew were coming down the line. We need to keep all our gas receipts and they need to be turned in at each check point. (It didn’t happen that way.) I need to be up by 4:30 am and over to the starting point between 5:00 and 5:30 am.

June 20th, 2010

We are off and running at 6:34 am. We are on a common sense run for the money!! Five hours into it there were two bad accidents. Not sure who or what was in the accident, but it blocked all roads for about one hour. Hotter than hell, and I have been lost a few times. Bike is acting up again. Battery cable came loose, or bad gas, or both. Wrong – the front plug wire came off and it was just setting on top of the plug. I think I have it fixed now. I am way off the trail and I hope I can find my way back to it soon. I am off the trail yet again, it’s hard to read and drive at the same time. No mileage on map. Just turn left or right. Roads not marked but I think I’m starting to understand the set up? Made the first check point at Daytona, FL Harley Davidson. I keep losing my riding friends because of being too slow or pulling off for gas, pulling over to read the map or missing the road sign. Maybe two hours sleep last night? 2 am to 4 am in a gas station parking lot.

June 21st, 2010

Picked up about 10 bikes to ride with for a few hours. Yet another accident right in front of us. I didn’t see him go down; I know he was trying to slow down to make a right hand turn. Talk has it five accidents and seven bikes out. Six other bikes out due to problems. Pulled into a gas station for gas. Set up camp for the night. It’s midnight. It’s an old car wash not being used anymore.

June 22nd, 2010

On the road at 5:00 am. Made it to the second check point at Southern Thunder Harley Davidson in South Haven, MS. I and a lot of the other riders are having trouble staying on the trail. Roads not marked or not named right on the paper. Hot as hell!! Last night, slept a good 4 hours. This helped some with my riding. Picked up 6 other riders that don’t like getting lost. They want me to be out in front leading. I’m not sure that was the best thing to do. I too miss a lot of my turns. Oh well, away we go. Jonesburg, AR. 105◦ in the sun. My bike overheated in town traffic and stopped running 4 times. Lost all the riders that I had picked up earlier today. Started to get a little smarter by picking up a map of AR. Sat down with a highlighter and read the instructions and tried to highlight the route on the map the best we could. Down to 3 riders, including myself, running highway 213 in N.W. AR. Turned right onto 74, slowed down and were discussing whether it was the right turn onto the right road, when the 3rd rider didn’t see that we had slowed down and rear-ended me. This whole ride has been slowing down, doing U- turns, missing corners, making wrong turns. Everybody knew we were doing this but the 3rd party rear-ends my bike, knocking me down on my right side and giving me road rash from the middle of my forearm to the top of my shoulder, plus breaking my collar bone in two places. (I think). This happened between 7:30 to 8:00 pm on June 22nd, 2010. A lot of people stopped that were first responders; they called 911 to get medical help and the police. It was a 30-minute ride to the hospital into Harrison, AR. The hospital did not want me there. They took X-rays, but did not clean up my road rash and told me that my collar bone was badly broken. They said I was on my own as they couldn’t fix it and that I should go home and see my own doctor. The local county coroner took me to the Quality Inn Hotel. He also owns the towing company that towed my bike & stored it at Yeager’s Salvage. (No discounts for having the same last name – damn!) So Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights I’m staying in the Quality Inn getting better service and help with my injuries than the hospital ER provided. (More to come of this story.)

June 23rd & 24th, 2010

I made phone calls and got the ball rolling to get help down to Harrison, AR and to get me and my bike back home. Steve Jungen was the lucky one to drive my truck and trailer to pick me up. Steve asked Paul Kaufman to ride along to pick up Bethany in West Memphis, AR (she was on her bike in Dothan, AL at her sister Linda’s place). They got into Harrison around 3:30 am Friday. My stay at the hotel was made better by all the girls that work there – Jan Harris, Maia Waters and Christine Miller to name a few. They cleaned up my road rash and put on new bandages. They also brought in food for me and picked up things I needed from Walgreens. Also, the Christian Motorcyclists Association stopped in with some food & fellowship. Trog’s half brother stopped in also. Bob Werheye lives only 30 miles from Harrison, AR. A lot of thanks goes out to all of them.

June 25th, 2010

After sleeping a few hours, we loaded up the bike. Got a kick in the nuts from the towing & storage bill, which was $700.00. Then I paid $10.00 for the accident report from the AR State Police. We were on the road headed for home at 11:30 am, and were home around 11:00 pm that same night. I have talked to insurance people and my doctor. I have an appointment with him Monday, June 28th, 2010 to see if we can get my collarbone fixed. I will be making insurance adjuster appointments after seeing doctor.

June 26th & 27th, 2010

Home and resting, but in pain. Looking forward to seeing the doctor Monday morning.

June 28th, 2010

Well the doctor said he can’t do anything to fix my collarbone. My collarbone is not broken in two places – just shredded in the middle. It will fix itself about 6 to 8 weeks. Back to see the doctor for more X-rays on July 6th. Phone is ringing off the wall from insurance people about every little thing.

July 2nd, 2010

I got a chance to talk to Leon Braden from Columbus, GA. This is the man that rear-ended me on June 22nd. He was able to ride to the hospital in Harrison, AR. He got a motel room for the night and then he rode home to Columbus, GA. This man is 73-years-old. He told me he was black & blue all over his body. He has been kicking himself about what he could have done differently or what he did wrong in the first place. I told him that shit happens. It’s time to recover and move on with your life.

July 5th, 2010

Oley makes it into Homer, AK. He was number 25 and was in on Wednesday June 30th. Terry makes it into Homer, AK. He is number 40 and was in on Wednesday June 30th, too. Bill makes it into Homer, AK. Don’t know his number, but the day was July 4th. I know that a few more made it in too. Only 110 to 180 made it all the way to Homer, AK. Talk has it that there were around 25 accidents with 3 deaths out of 800 riders?

July 6th, 2010

Back to see the doctor for more X-Rays. I could not see any changes from the 1st X-rays taken on June 22nd, but the doctor said it was doing just fine. I will see him again in three weeks on July 27th for more X-rays.

July 8th, 2010

Took my motorcycle to Flying Eagle Motorcycle for an insurance estimate. I should know something in about a week or so. Now it is just going to take time to get back on my feet again, along with my motorcycle.

July 14th, 2010

I got the estimate back from Flying Eagle Motorcycles for what it will cost to repair the bike. ($8,039.20). Now I wait for a phone call from the insurance co. to see what they are going to do.

Collarbone is doing better, but I still get a sharp pain when I move it wrong from time to time. Road rash is 95% gone now and I think it will not look all that bad in the long run. You might not be able to tell that I had any road rash when I’m all healed up.

July 19th, 2010

I got a call from Leon Braden’s insurance company about taking a look at my motorcycle. It has been sitting at Flying Eagle Motorcycle for the last 12 days now. I am told that someone will be taking a look at it sometime this week yet.

July 22nd, 2010

I got a call from Leon Braden today asking me how I was doing. After talking to him for a few minutes, I found out this is his first accident in the 73 years he has been alive. Now that is a good driving record. (Sorry I was his first accident!)

July 27th, 2010

I went to see my doctor today for more X-rays of my collarbone. They said it is doing fine and that I can go back to work in three weeks. That will be August 16th. Now, if I only had a job to go back to?? (“LOL”) The doctor told me that my collarbone pieces are just over one-half inch away from each other. To put it back in a straight line again, it is over one inch apart. I am told that it will fill in and be stronger than before. I can tell you this for sure – it doesn’t look like it will fill in at all. I am moving more and more every day and that makes things better in my life too. Still no word from the insurance co. about my bike and what they will, or will not, pay for. I was making phone calls today to both insurance cos. and had no luck in talking to anyone, only got voicemail. I got a phone call late today from American Reliable Insurance Company. After talking to Dennis Connors about the motorcycle I will get a check for $8,000.00 to fix the bike up. I need to get some paperwork signed by someone with a Notary Public Seal and then send it to Scottsdale, AZ to get the check on the way. Now I get to work on the medical part of the accident. More to come on this story later this year.

July 28th, 2010

Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge: William Barclay just took the polygraph in New York City. After hours of questions and yet again another drug test for sedatives, he has passed. William Barclay will receive a wire transfer of 500,000 dollars from Pioneer Bank and Trust of Rapid City, South Dakota directly to his bank account. So we now have a winner of the Hoka Hey Challenge.

August 2nd, 2010

Well I’m somewhat back to normal, whatever normal is anymore. I can still overuse my right arm, and it hurts in the collarbone area when I do overuse it. I will have some scarring on my right arm that will stand out some, but not all that bad. I’m hoping sometime this week that the check for repairing the bike will come in and Flying Eagle Motorcycle can get started on the repair work. As far as any medical settlement, that will be on going for some time yet.

August 9th, 2010

Well the check to rebuild the bike came in the mail today. Now I need to get the money up to Flying Eagle Motorcycle to get them started on the rebuild job. All the other things are falling into place now. The right collarbone is getting better every day, but the weather is letting me know what is going on. I’m sure down the road in a few years, Uncle Arthur is going to kick my ass! Along with all the other stuff that has happened to me from all the other accidents in my life. Oh yeah, I have had a few accidents over the years. Just how many lives do I have left? Wonder if I’m like a cat with nine lives? I guess only time will tell. Until then, ride safe, ride free, ride happy and ride to live.

As far as the medical part of all this is, it is still in the works. If I see some kind of a settlement by the first of the year, that will be too soon. Life is good living it to the fullest!!!

Will I do the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge again if they have one? I think so, but timing will be everything. I know that some of the things that I didn’t like about this challenge will be changed for the next challenge. Remember this was a challenge and a challenge it was. When you think about it, what in your everyday life is not a challenge?

Hoka Hey it’s a good day to ride!

Any day that I can throw my leg over my motorcycle is a good day to ride!

~ Dennis “Cleaver” Yeager, Freeport, IL

Scott Gillard

My name is Scott A. Gillard (aka Lizzard). I live in south Texas, and through the Sponsor a Vet program was able to participate in the 2010 Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge. I was rider #269. I bought a brand new Harley and broke it in by riding to the R.O.T. Rally in Austin, TX. I have no information on my sponsor other than he is a father that was supposed to ride this ride with his son; however, his son was killed in Afghanistan, and that he was a Sergeant in the Marines. I am a former Marine and he picked me to sponsor. I dedicated my new bike to this Marine by having Sargent painted on the back fender in Austin. I took time off from work and, with help from family and friends, loaded up my bike in my pick-up truck and had my wife drop me off in Key West, FL. I rode with different people in the beginning, like Stray Dog Sam from AZ, but rode almost 95% of the ride with Smiley Bob Nesson from Massachusetts. We had a blast – tough times, rough times and not enough time. Seems impossible to say that, but it was the ride of my life.

I was honored to gather souls for Jim and Beth to complete the circle of life for Jim’s people. They are true Americans and have shown nothing but support and a warrior “can do” attitude that is contagious. I met so many wonderful people and saw so much of America and Canada that it is impossible at any given time to recall it in its entirety. To this very day I look at my photos and cannot believe I participated in such a spectacular event and that I made that trip! If there is a slim chance that any who reads this has the adventurous spirit somewhere in their heart and soul, then do the next ride.

~ Scott A. Gillard, Texas

Samuel Jeppsen

Hello, Beth.

It's me, Sam Jeppsen, that knucklehead who rode his ‘03 rigid mount Sportster in the 2010 event. I just got your drawing, my certificate and your letter in the mail. Just wanted to drop you a note and say thank you. To you, Jim and the entire gang that made the 2010 Hoka Hey possible. It was a dream come true for me and it was far more than I had ever hoped it would be. I had no illusions of ever winning and I was not willing to ride to win. The gold for me was the ride, the adventure, the scenery, the people and the memories. It was an event I still find myself thinking about, 6 months later. Others have said it was life-changing for them; it was life-changing for me too. I've ridden some fine rides, Beth. I’ve ridden the entire Baja Peninsula, the Mexico mainland to Guatemala to British Honduras, through the Yucatan Peninsula around the Gulf of Mexico and back to Phoenix, AZ and I've ridden the Pacific Coast Highway four times. All on two- to five-week motorcycle adventures where I slept out all along the way as we did on the Hoka Hey.

But this ride, the Hoka Hey 2010, was like no other ride I have ever taken. The continuous getting up and moving on, the day-to-day challenge, the incredible scenery, the camaraderie with the other riders and the crews you put together, the constant cheering on by you and your crews – all caused continuous spikes of exhilaration and adrenalin inside me. Those spikes came daily, even hourly. The rush of emotions that coursed my veins as I literally became Jim Bronson (1970 TV series: Then Came Bronson, has never left my mind. The feeling of being so different than any other rider I passed by, then or now, was so unexpected and so thrilling and it remains thrilling even to this day.

I am a Hoka Hey Rider and that makes me different from any other rider in the world except those that rode in the 2010. Many riders can speak of their great Iron-Butt rides where they knocked out 1,000 or 1,500 miles in a couple of days, or of a great motorcycle adventure they took, but only the Hoka Hey riders can speak about the longest-biggest-hardest and most grueling iron-butt ride in the entire world. The Hoka Hey. Who can tell of a ride such as ours? And where can we go where our great tale will be less than someone else’s?

It was a 13,500 +/- mile ride for me by the time I got back to Arizona. A 26-day motorcycle adventure. Thirty-two days if I count the four days it took me to get to Florida and the two days I spent there before the ride. I left with 42K miles on my Sporty and came home with 55K miles on it. I won't give you any of the totals, as you have plenty, but I will tell you I had two different people stop and wake me up as I was sleeping alongside the road and ask me if I was okay. I guess I did look pretty funny! I just got off my bike and laid down on the pavement or dirt alongside my bike and slept helmet and all. A few hours later I got up and rode away. I had people come up to me and talk to me at almost every stop I made. In Vernal, UT, I had a gal ask me, "Are you one of those guys that is riding to Alaska?" In Wasilla, AK, I had another guy and his wife pull alongside me on their bright and shiny blue FL and ask if I was going to stop to eat. I didn't understand what he meant or why he asked me such a question, so I told him I was a Hoka Hey Rider on my way to Homer. He said, "I know. I just want to know if you are going to stop for something to eat." I realized then he knew who I was and wanted to visit with me. On the Seward Highway, I had a guy on his brand new red FL pull alongside me and honk and give me the thumbs up. Near the Portage Glacier turn-off in Alaska, I had another gal say, "You're one of them, aren't you?"

People knew who we were, Beth. In the states and in Canada and in Alaska, and we didn't have to say anything at all. Several times I had people who knew about the Hoka Hey just stop and talk to me. For me to be a part of that, left me with a feeling I cannot fully explain or put into words. Six months later, I still have people ask me about the ride and they cannot believe I rode in it. In a few months, I'll be 60 and they can't believe I was part of the Hoka Hey. My children made me a DVD out of my pictures and put it to music; in their eyes and in the eyes of those I work around, they have created an image of me similar to Jeremiah Johnson. I am still receiving things from this ride I had no idea I would ever receive.

I will be forever grateful, Beth, to all of you who worked so hard to put this together. You guys were there for us all the way and you never tired. You guys worked your butts off to make this really memorable for all of us and it was. Big Jim Red Cloud was a treat to meet and meeting Chief Red Cloud will be an honor I will never forget. You fine folk are some of the best I have met.

The few that complained painted a picture that all complained. That's simply not so. They just got the press. The vast, vast majority of us received far more than we ever expected and are still reeling in the spotlight of being a Hoka Hey Rider. Don't listen to the complainers; don't even give them a thought. Chances are they would have complained no matter what. The ride was incredible and the adventure was fantastic. That was the best 1,000 bucks I ever spent and it was cheap for what I got for it. In fact, I have long forgotten the $1,000 entry fee, but have not, nor will I ever, forgotten the adventure and memories.

I'm a Hoka Hey Rider. No one can ever take that from me and no one can ever top me. Some may take longer rides, even more grueling, but none but a Hoka Hey rider can be a part of the longest-largest-biggest-hardest and most grueling motorcycle ride in the world – except another Hoka Hey rider. To any that are teetering about whether to participate in the 2011, my advice to them is: Go! Go! Go and live the dream. You will never forget it and you will never be sorry.

You guys are the best, Beth. Thanks so very much. If you're ever in Arizona, stop in. You and your fine family will always have a place to stay. And, as I was welcomed at Chief Red Cloud's table, you will always be welcome at mine.

Su amigo siempre
(Your friend always)

~ Sam Jeppsen, Phoenix, AZ

Roger Buis

I just finished reading all the blog inputs from everyone. I must say that I started and finished this great ride and, even though it was six months ago, I still have not come down off the high it gave me. I live the life of a gypsy and have an adrenalin rush almost every weekend (visit my Web site at www.otto-airshow.com to see what I mean). I fly air shows all over the world and get treated like a rock star almost every weekend, so to see the way all of you were treated by the folks in Alaska was very thrilling. I am used to that type of treatment, but the adventure and the accomplishment of riding that far and roughing it out on the trail was just absolutely great.

I feel that Beth and Jim did a great job, considering they just came up with the idea in their heads and then went out and did it. Just like we decided to ride the Challenge and then went out and did it. Setting a goal in this life is what it is all about and some folks just missed the point of it all. I, for one, get it and I loved the adventure; I don't think I will come down from the high until something else can top it. I am looking forward to the next Hoka Hey and, as of right now, my schedule supports me doing it again. I would like to see some of my buddies that I met on the trail join me on this next adventure.

Sorry to ramble on, but that is just me. Thanks Jim, Beth and the rest of your family for the warm hospitality!!!!!

HOKA HEY (Let’s GO!)

~ Roger Buis, Baker, FL

Terry Meyer

Honor, Integrity, Dignity.

When I left Key West, FL on the Hoka Hey Challenge as Terry Rogue, I knew I had my hands full. The Challenge would be dedicated to my mother and father, Ron and Linda Meyer, who were killed on their Harley Davidson in a horrible accident in 2003. I would have to dig deep emotionally, physically and spiritually. The hardships I would face in this Challenge would, in the end, help me grow to be a better man, friend, husband and father. They would also remind me of what is special in my life; the things that most take advantage of day to day. I can tell you now that I am grateful for the opportunity that Jim and Beth Red Cloud gave me. I am humbled by my experience in the Hoka Hey Challenge.

The difficulties of this Challenge brought forth what my father had taught me, through the years of our racing together. He taught me to be strong and to always believe in myself, even though there were times during the Challenge that I second-guessed my decisions. He also taught me that quitting was never an option; in the end, as long as I gave 110% I would never be upset with myself because I knew in my heart I did the very best I could. What my mother had taught me also helped me to the end of my journey during the Challenge. Her love, devotion and strength to stay strong through rough times, as well as her pure happiness, beautiful smile and love for life were my “Push” as we called it during the Challenge. The friendships I made along the way were amazing. Jeremy Sawyer, Robbie Vinson, Cherie (Messenger) Cross, Sheila and her dog, Trixie and Jim known as “Sucker Punch Sally” were my riding crew. Assuming the name “The Wolf Pack,” we helped each other through different parts of the Challenge and the stories we could tell became monumental in our journey. We stood together through difficult times to persevere.

An amazing group friends who believed in me helped make the dream come true. Kevin Pyles, owner of Team Trampstamp, pulled the finances together so it could all happen; in the end he was just glad I finished alive. Paul Wideman and the crew from Bareknuckle Choppers believed in me enough to build a hardtail race chopper for the Hoka Hey Challenge when no one else believed in me. Most bets said I wouldn’t make it out of Florida; to arrive in Alaska left most people amazed to say the least. My mechanics, Steve and John, helped me and the bike continue on to the Canadian border. Once at the Canadian border I was on my own, and I was happy to finish what I had started by myself. So many friends and family supported me along the way. Every day, all we asked for was positive vibes. It kept me going when I had nothing left. Even after all the crashes and continuous bad luck I somehow stayed positive.

My wife, Cassiopeia, would pull me through to the end – sometimes love has no boundaries. She helped me study and train, and stood by me through the roughest time in my less-than-forgiving life. She was by my side and believed in my hopes and dreams. My dream of being the best in the world was dashed, but I never gave up and I achieved my goal to make it to the finish line at any cost. Our strength pulled me to the finish. After 15 days and 23 hours of the most brutal ride of my life, Cassiopeia was at the finish line waiting with open arms and a huge smile. She told me to “welcome the pain” and, in the end, be the man you were meant to be. And I did. After seven years, I went to the gravesite of my mother and father for the first time since I had buried them. I wrapped my yellow Hoka Hey bandana around their flower vase and walked away a proud son. I had finished what I started … I left Key West as Terry Rogue and come home Terry Meyer… Hoka Hey.

Family First,

~ Terry Meyer, St. Louis, MO

Jordan Backhaus

Well, I finally returned home from the Hoka Hey Challenge. It has taken a full week to recover and rest up before even attempting to write about ‘the journey.’

Since returning, several friends have asked me to describe the Hoka Hey Challenge Ride. And I would love to….but to be honest, I do not know how. It will be easy to describe the places traveled through and the beautiful and diverse scenery witnessed. But to describe the emotional impact will be almost impossible. Typical questions that are posed to me include: “Did you enjoy it?” Me: “No.” “Did you have a good time?” Me: “Absolutely!”

The event was sponsored by the Big Jim Red Cloud (6’ 3” or 6’ 4” in height and just as broad shouldered) and his wife, Beth Durham, of the Lakota Indian Tribe located in Western South Dakota. The goal of the ride was to bring attention to the water shortage issues facing their reservation and the people living on that reservation.

The night before the ‘event,’ Big Jim revealed that one of the purposes of bringing us together was to take us on this journey through famous battlegrounds of the U.S. In that manner, we would be able to pick up the spirits of dead warriors and bring them back to the reservation in South Dakota to help fight the battle for water rights for the Lakota Indian people.

I am a religious man, so do not believe in such things. However, I have always found it enriching to throw myself into the cultures of other peoples and learn from those experiences. While I may not have believed in the ability to transfer spirits of warriors, I knew it would be fun to experience and learn as much as possible from the Lakota Indian Tribe sponsoring the event. During the evening ‘pre-briefing,’ a brother and nephew of Big Jim even sang a song of hope in their traditional tribal language, which was fascinating to listen to and be a part of. In a way, it was even strangely moving!

Later, Big Jim explained that he and his father ‘cooked up’ this idea a couple of years ago. They had been working daily on the Hoka Hey Challenge and, just two months before the beginning of the ride, Big Jim’s father passed away. Both emotionally and proudly, Jim described the day they found his father, sitting in his favorite chair, dead…..and wearing his Hoka Hey T-Shirt!

At that point, the room in which we were all meeting felt somewhat lonely and strangely quiet. Feeling the anxiety, Big Jim then cracked a joke and the room began to immediately come alive again! (I don’t remember the joke….sorry.) Excitement was beginning to fill the air as Jim began to describe our upcoming journey. The ride was scheduled to take us through 62 mountain ranges, 25 national forests, eight deserts, 33 Indian reservations and two countries…..8,300 miles in total.

$500,000 in gold/cash was at stake for the winner of the event. The ride was limited to air-cooled, V-Twin Harley Davidson motorcycles containing no modifications (although at the last minute, a few V-Twin Indian motorcycles were allowed). The goal was to ride from Key West, FL to Homer, AK the fastest. In order to win the money, a specified route had to be followed. There would be seven checkpoints where the competitors/riders would have the mileage on their ‘bikes’ checked. At each checkpoint, a new set of driving instructions/routes would be obtained. Disqualifying factors included veering off the specified route, sleeping in hotels (it was necessary to sleep outside next to the bike each and every night), drug and/or alcohol usage while on the road, speeding tickets, reckless driving, etc.

In addition, no GPS units were allowed. Riders were also not allowed to use electronic devices such as cell phone or computer mapping programs, call family members for directions, etc. Alternative fuel cells or gas cans were not allowable either. The gas was of particular concern to me. My bike has a five-gallon gas tank that gets between 130 and 150 miles per tank ... depending on the conditions. Newer bikes with six-gallon tanks and six-speed transmissions often get between 200 to 250 miles to the tank. But, like those who formed this great country of ours, I consider myself somewhat industrious. I figured I would stop by Home Depot and pick up some plastic tubing. And if I ever got in an area of scarce fuel, I could always ask a nearby farmer or a passing motorist for fuel. As such, I just needed to remember to keep some cash in my pocket.

The Challenge was designed to test the navigational skills, ingenuity and determination of the individual riders. As Big Jim Red Cloud stated, it wasn’t going to be easy. They were not going to simply give away $500,000!

How was all of this to be enforced? Well, at each checkpoint, the motorcycle mileage would be checked. Other than that, it would be based upon integrity. This was to be a challenge comprised of ‘road warriors’ who ride with honor and integrity. We were to be a part of something special and needed to trust one another. Win the Challenge or not, the commitment to honesty and integrity was to bring, in the end, something special to each and every rider involved.

This all sounded pretty straightforward. I thought all I had to do was drive 1,000 miles per day at 65 miles per hour. 1,000 miles in a day at that speed would take 17 hours, thereby still leaving me with six or seven hours of sleep per night. Then, if I learned that someone was ahead of me I could ride a few more hours and sleep a bit less. Again, this sounded easy. (So I thought.)

The Challenge began just before sun-up on Father’s Day, June 20, 2010. We all began lining up in a small hotel parking lot around 4:00 a.m., jockeying for positions near the front of the pack. Even at 4:00 a.m., I found myself near the rear of the pack. 750 riders had registered for this event. So, being near the end of the pack made me nervous about the time it would take to get on the road and actually begin making some time. But, it also gave me time to begin socializing with other riders. It was fascinating to learn that not only did riders come from almost every state in the U.S., but also from New Zealand, England, Australia and even Scotland! Scottish John, as he was called, even began the rally that morning wearing his country’s traditional kilt!

Around 4:30 a.m., the organizers of the event began to hand out the first set of driving instructions. In looking over the instructions, it immediately became apparent that this was not going to be a ‘cake walk.’ The instructions were driving directions. No coordinates. No highways or freeways. No distance markers. The following is an example of the directions: (actual set!)

Turn Left onto FL-19 State Road 19.

Turn Right onto W. Burleigh Blvd./U.S.-441 S./Fl-19/FL-500 S.

Turn Left onto CR-452/Lake Eustis Dr.

Turn Right onto CR-452 N/Lake Eustis Dr. Continue to follow CR-452 N.

CR-452/Lakeshore Dr. becomes E Citrus Ave.

Turn Left onto FL-19 N/S Grove St/State Road 19. Continue to follow FL-19 N/State Road 19.

Turn Left onto CR-452.

Turn Slight Right onto CR-19A.

Turn Right onto Jennifer LN/CR-44.

Stay Straight to go onto CR-44A/County Road 44A.

Turn Left onto FL44/State Road 44.

Turn Left onto Spring Garden Ave/Fl-15A N.

Turn Right onto W. International Speedway Blvd./CR-92 E. Continue to follow Q International Speedway Blvd.

Turn Left onto N. Williamson Blvd/CR-4009 N.

Turn Right onto LPGA Blvd/CR-4019 E./11th St.

Turn Left onto N. Nova Rd/Fl-5A N.

Turn Right onto W. Granada Blvd./Fl40 E. Continue to follow FL-40 E.

Turn Left onto N. Beach St/CR-4011. Continue to follow CR-4011.

Turn Slight Left onto Pine Tree Dr/CR-2820.

And it went on. At each of the seven checkpoints, we were given a new set of similar driving instructions. YIKES!

As can be seen, it was not going to be easy to navigate. Many upcoming turns needed to be embedded into our minds so that we could keep a look out for those turns. In addition, a turn could be six blocks ahead or 100 miles ahead, so it was important to remain extremely alert at all times. A missed turn would take a rider way out of their way. (This happened to me, as well as most riders, on several occasions.)

Adding to the confusion, the directions referred to CR and SR roads, both containing the same road number! For instance, CR 452 or SR 452. Not having driven the Southern routes for quite a few years, I completely forgot that CR stood for County Road and SR stood for State Road. As such, on more than one occasion, I took the wrong road.

In looking over the directions, I began to think ... so much for 65 miles per hour! The directions consisted of all two-lane roads and switchbacks. But, there was no time to worry about such things. The race was about to begin and, again, a tremendous amount of excitement filled the air.

The first day of the ride took us from Key West to Miami, then west over the Everglades, north to just above Orlando and finally over to Ormond Beach (just above Daytona Beach), where we reached our first check point at mile 616. (Unless of course, the rider became lost ... then even more miles were accumulated!)

About four or five hours into the ride, we encountered a traffic jam. As we sat there in the baking sun and waited for a little over a half hour, we could see the remnants of a wrecked motorcycle up ahead in the ditch. A fire truck, an ambulance and a half dozen police cars squeezed past us and moved ahead to the area of the wreckage. As we later learned, the rider was part of our group and had to be air-lifted to a nearby hospital due to severe compound fractures. This was a stark reminder to all of us who were waiting to remain alert and to pay close attention to the road ahead!

It was about 9:00 p.m. when I finally pulled into the Bruce Rossmeyer’s Harley Davidson dealership in Ormond Beach, FL. I was already exhausted! But, this was the first day of the ride and there was still $500,000 to be won, so after checking in and picking up my next set of directions, it was time to ride again.

The next leg of the journey took us through Georgia, Alabama and finally to the Southern Thunder Harley Davidson dealership in Southhaven, MS, some 905 miles away. This was our second checkpoint.

I don’t want to bore anyone with details of the journey, so I think it best to simply detail the routes, then speak briefly of the highlights of the trip.

The third leg of the journey was a long one. We traveled 2,754 miles through Mississippi, Kansas, Oklahoma (including its Panhandle), New Mexico, Arizona (twice) from the north to the south, then north again, up and through Utah, and then finally into Wyoming. Our destination was the Flaming Gorge Harley Davidson dealership in Rock Springs, WY.

The fourth leg of the trip entailed another 1,352 miles through Wyoming, South Dakota and Montana, ending at the Montana Harley Davidson dealership in Missoula, MT. There was a surprise checkpoint on the Sioux/Lakota Indian Reservation near Wounded Knee where we were treated to traditional Lakota Indian Buffalo Stew at Big Jim’s grandfather’s house. Big Jim’s grandfather is the chief of the tribe, so this was quite an honor!

The fifth leg finally got us across the U.S. border and into Canada. We traveled another 2,340 miles across Alberta, British Columbia, the Yukon and finally into Fairbanks, AK, arriving at the Harley-Davidson Farthest North Outpost dealership. WHEW!

The last leg finally led us south another 576 miles to Homer, AK to a place called ‘the Spit’ ... a long stretch of road surrounded by water, resembling the keys of Florida.

The people of Homer were fantastic! It seemed that everyone in town welcomed us with open arms and bright smiles. Some even called us ‘heroes.’ While that may be an exaggerated term, it certainly made those of us who finished the ride feel pretty special.

Out of 756 riders who began the race, only 231 finished. The ride was indeed, in every sense of the word, a challenge! 20 or 30 people wrecked their bikes and could not continue. A dozen or so of the riders on the wrecked bikes actually had to go to the hospitals along the route. Another 20 or 30 riders could not make it across the Canadian border (due to their past); over 100 that I know of simply quit in the middle of the Challenge and two died along the way. (One fell asleep while riding, the other lost control of his bike in loose dirt). All of this added to a genuine sense of accomplishment at the finish line.

Highlights of the ride:

1. All of the small towns we rode through from Key West, FL to Homer, AK, and all of the people we met in those towns. It was a fantastic look at America and the people who make up this great land of ours!
2. Two ‘good old boys’ I met on a long, out of the way, deserted two-lane country road, in the middle of Mississippi. I stopped to ask them for directions and began to have a great time laughing and joking with them. They even volunteered to send riders behind me down a nearby road that would lead them to four feet of mud that they would have to navigate. I declined, but I liked their enthusiasm. If time was not of short supply, I would have stayed and partied with them for the evening. They were fun! As it was, I enjoyed their company for about 45 minutes, just ‘shooting the breeze’ before continuing the journey.
3. Riding the route ‘Avenue of the Gods’ in Utah at midnight. I could not see anything. There was no moon. The road was unpaved and mostly gravel. The road was also so narrow that it seemed that perhaps only one vehicle could navigate it at one time and in only one direction. It wound up and down through the hills. And, although I could not see anything, I knew that if I veered too close to the edge of the road, there would be nothing for a long way down! It was therefore exciting, scary and exhilarating all at the same time.
4. Setting up my tent in the middle of a storm in the middle of Wyoming. It was about 8:00 p.m. and the wind was blowing so hard I could not keep the tent in one place. Plus, the rain was coming down as if someone had placed a water hose directly above me. In order to set up the tent, it was necessary to move to a Wal-Mart parking lot and use bungie cords to tie the tent to a light pole. In the morning, I woke to rain, but knew I had to press on. Crawling out of the tent, I ended up in a huge bank of mud! Apparently, I had set the tent up in a low lying area and all of the dirt rolled down to the edge of my tent. The tent provided a nice relief barrier, thereby creating a nice island of mud that completely surrounded the tent. After breaking down, rolling up and packing my tent, I looked as if I had wrestled a pig in the mud! Thank goodness it was still raining. After an hour or so on the road, I was clean again.
5. There are great memories of all the places I threw my sleeping bag on the ground and did not even put up a tent ... along deserted roads, in empty parking lots, next to a train track without knowing it due to the darkness, only to be awakened at 4:00 a.m. to the sound of a train whistle and pounding wheels about 20 feet above my head. Great memories of other places stayed include a casino parking lot, along river banks, in places so dark that I could not even make out what was in the area around me, etc. All great memories!
6. Great memories of all of the travels through the middle of the night when I did not see or hear another bike and wondered if I was still on course.
7. Leaving a rest stop in Nebraska about 10 miles from the South Dakota border. I apparently made a trucker mad when I pulled out onto the road in front of him. I guess I was so tired that I completely misjudged his range. As such, he apparently became pretty angry and actually tried to kill me. I heard no air brakes, nor did he sound his air horns. I suddenly saw his truck bearing down on me at a very rapid speed. Going through the gears as quickly as possible, I reached 75 miles an hour ... in what seemed like a nano-second. Still, the trucker came so close to me that I could see the emblem of his truck almost touching the back of my bike and I could feel the heat from his radiator on my back. My initial emotion was anger. I thought about following him and kicking the heck out of him at his next stop. Intellectually though, I knew better. So, I simply swallowed my pride and ‘out-ran’ him. I needed to find the chief’s house in South Dakota before it got too late in the day.
8. Crossing the border from Montana into Canada at 11:00 p.m. Being the only motorized vehicle at the border crossing at that hour was both a relief for finally making it that far and lonely.
9. All of the wildlife along the roads of Canada and Alaska……both black and brown bear, moose, caribou, big horned sheep, buffalo, etc. Beautiful!
10. Coming over a hill at 65 miles an hour and seeing ‘a deer in the headlights’ (although it was the middle of the day). It seemed like an eternity as I hit my brakes, fish tailed, regained control of the bike and tried to swerve out of the deer’s way, while the deer scrambled to gain its footing on the pavement, and tried to decide which direction to run, experimenting with different directions. Finally, I whizzed past the deer at perhaps 50 miles an hour, barely missing his rear end. Any closer and I would have wiped the deer’s butt for him. I am certain I needed someone to wipe mine at that point, but did not have time to stop and check! Throughout the entire trip, the adventure consisted of meeting new people and encountering new experiences. It included riding in rain storms, hail storms, dust storms, riding in the middle of snow-capped mountains and, at one point, riding among the snow caps while being rained on! Brrrrrrr!

There were moments of loneliness when no other bikes could be seen on the road and doubts about my navigational skills set in ... then pulling into a gas station or restaurant and seeing someone I recognized from the ride. There were moments of sheer wonderment at the diverse beauty of the surrounding land. And there were a ton of laughs at the stories other riders shared of their own experiences during brief encounters at rest stops, gas stations, etc.

Every rider, whether he or she finished or not, encountered his/her own unique and exciting adventures and experiences, thereby creating a feeling of some sort of ‘brotherhood’ among all riders.

In Homer, AK, the townsfolk had been waiting for us since we left Key West. When I arrived, even before I could go to a hotel and get cleaned up or unpack my bike, several locals took me to a saloon and began to fill me up with beer. And everyone in the saloon wanted to shake my hand and say ‘hi.’ This was the same experience for all of the riders who finished.

On the 4th of July, Homer held its annual parade. We were invited to ride our bikes in the parade. Of course, I took part in the event. It was a real ego boost! After the parade, the town held a 4th of July celebration at a large campground just outside of town. There was plenty of food, bands, beer and tons of people as, it seemed, the entire town came out for the celebration. At one point, all festivities stopped and Big Jim Red Cloud got up on stage, telephoned in his grandfather over a microphone and the Chief of the Lakota Tribe prayed for all of the ‘road warriors’ in his native Lakota language. The feeling at that moment was indescribable. Afterward, all Hoka Hey riders were invited to sit in front of the stage area, while the locals snapped a ton of pictures of us. It felt like paparazzi and I felt like a star!

Shortly after the photo shoot, the band stopped once again and all Veterans were invited to the stage. Once again, I felt pretty special standing there with other proud veterans of various eras, having out photos taken repeatedly by the locals.

All in all, it was a great experience! And for those of us who challenged ourselves and pushed through to the end, there was, again, a special feeling of brotherhood that cannot be adequately described. The only way to even offer a hint of the feeling is to recount an experience I had flying back to Los Angeles. After boarding the airplane in Anchorage, AK, while I was placing my luggage in the overhead compartment, I recognized a fellow Hoka Hey rider walking toward me. Without thinking, I held out my hand and said, “Hoka Hey.” His response was, “Hoka Hey, brother.” He then quietly moved to somewhere near the rear of the airplane. In his words, I could feel a real sense of pride. And the momentary ‘Hoka Hey’ greeting that we exchanged was enough. It was as if my own brother had greeted me. Nothing else needed to be said!

Hoka Hey everyone!

~ Jordan Backhaus, Los Angeles, CA

Lynn LePelley

The Hook

I think my wife was reading a motorcycle club newsletter that mentioned a member who was riding in something called the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge. From the moment I went on the Web site, I was fascinated by the thought of riding to Alaska. ALASKA, can you imagine?? I mean we’re talking continents here. Day after day, I was involved in all sorts of dreams about conquering the road, on a distance that was almost 1/3 of the way around the globe. I mean really, if you went the other way wouldn’t you end up in Santiago or something!? Of course I had to get to Key West first, a thousand miles from here, and then at the appointed hour sprint off onto the North American road, arriving in Alaska to cheering crowds like Hidalgo or Lindberg or something. I tried to figure if I had enough time and money for this, and to find a means to get my bike back from Alaska. But the real scary thing was ... that I had to make hotel and plane reservations to return from a place in Alaska that I had to get to somehow on a motorcycle. But I couldn’t get the idea out of my head...

The Challenge

So I plunked down my thousand bucks and signed up for what we later would laughingly call a $500 coin and a $500 bandana. The basic deal was that you had to ride from Key West to Homer on a Harley-Davidson air-cooled machine, on the exact route that they chose, with no outside assistance from spotters, extra tanks, substitute riders or motorcycles, navigation aids, etc., within a 14-day period between June 20th and July 4th. The first person to arrive would receive $500,000, providing they passed the drug and polygraph tests and a nationwide crime check in the U.S. and Canada. Signed gas receipts would also be required of the first place finisher, to prove actual presence at those places. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? So I tucked all these basic rules under my hat and started to get ready to go to Key West.

The Blog

One of the ‘benefits’ of signing up was being included in the Hoka Hey Yahoo Group, and daily receiving a huge blast of postings that sometimes bordered on the supernatural! I did meet some interesting people on there, including a couple of Aussies who were doing the herculean task of shipping their bikes from Queensland to do the Challenge. But mostly the blog was all chaff; people bragging about what they could do or would do with great bravado, and a large amount of derisive chatter about any and all riders and machines. I’m sure some of these folks typed their way to Alaska and back several times. Among others, there was the “Iron Butt” thread, the GPS thread, the “oil cooler” thread, the “prescription medication” thread, the “pink panties” thread………now that was a thread! Perhaps someone saved all the posts. If so, it would be possible to write a couple of comedy shows, and possibly revise a couple of thick psychological journals! Anyway, the one shining light of the Yahoo Group was that I met a couple of wonderful people who, as well as becoming great friends, were going to bring my bike back from Alaska.

Key West

It was a great few days on my ride down to the Keys, with good weather and excellent roads. I stopped to see my brother on the west coast of Florida and for a swim in the Gulf. Key West was as I remembered it, and I explored my nostalgic memory of our visit there when our kids were little. My wife flew down a couple of days before the start, and we rode around as we did when we were first married and living in Hawaii – without helmets or a care in the world.

Everywhere we saw people who were part of the Hoka Hey and we met many of them, including folks like Jersey Pearl and Kelly, two riders that I shared the road with in a few spots and who arrived in Homer about the same time I did. Kelly always made a big splash with her wonderful adventurous spirit and, even though the Challenge is over and everyone has gone home, I’m sure that her tattoos are still riding around down there somewhere!

The First Day

Everybody started out with such bright dreams. Riding east into a beautiful sunrise, it seemed impossible that anything could dim our adventure, even though for a while we seemed to be heading in the wrong direction. But as we went through the Everglades, zigzagging our way through the back roads of Florida, the trip seemed to unravel a bit. I came to a place where there had been a crash and a biker had been helicoptered from the scene and, as I waited on the road with some other riders, it became apparent to us that this crash had occurred on a road that was not part of the course! I retraced my steps and, after riding 15 miles or so in the wrong direction, I finally got back on the track. Continuing on, chagrined but mostly undaunted, I saw something that brought my bike, and my heart, to a stop. There was a cruiser parked by the road on a curve and as I slowed and looked over the embankment, I saw a new motorcycle lying in the swamp, all crumpled and scraped. There was no one around. It was so sad that I pulled over and cried for a bit, thinking of this rider and his/her cherished dream that now just seemed to be cast away. The Challenge was not going to be an easy thing, and I continued on to Daytona older and wiser, to compare war stories and have a sweaty three-hour sleep on the ground in the parking lot.

Reality Check

Maybe it was in rural Georgia or Alabama, certainly in Arkansas, that I realized that I could not follow the prescribed directions and route and still complete the Challenge in the time allotted. I heard different versions of my story from other riders, and what it boiled down to was – define your personal goal and achieve it the best way you knew how. Some folks thought that it was the responsibility of the organizers to see that the path was cleared in all ways to just cruise to Alaska. But actually working all these things out was the actual challenge for each rider. When I arrived at the South Haven checkpoint, there seemed to be a fair amount of disgruntled people who felt that various things were unfair and were aiming to exact some measure of retribution or at least compensation. There were several folks who were disappointed at having committed some horrible mistake ... not following the route, having navigation aids, etc., which excluded them from the prize. I overheard one of the organizers counseling a discouraged rider, who felt that he had made some mistakes and thus was unworthy, disappointing the people, sponsors, etc. who were counting on him. The counsel being given was something that I will always remember: that your goals, your dreams, your strivings, should be saved and cherished as a gift, a part of your spirit to be held in trust for the people that love you. What a concept! I was just beginning to see what the Challenge was all about. A couple of days later, I was in a Subway in western Oklahoma and the girl behind the counter commented on my Hoka Hey T-shirt. “Yes, Hoka Hey,” I said, “In the Sioux language it means ...” “I know,” she said, “I am Sioux.” I had finally arrived in Hoka Hey country.

The Band-aid

A lot of people ask me, “Well, how’d your butt feel after riding all those miles?” What I am starting to find out from this question is that one actually has to have done a ride like this in order to formulate a reasonable question about it. Sitting on a motorcycle seat for thousands of miles turns out not to be bad. But being out in the sun, wind, rain, heat, cold, dust, etc. for 12 to 15 hours per day for 14 days in a row, that’s the thing. I ran into several people who had been overcome by the elements in one way or another, including one superlative individual who had been laid up in a Birmingham hospital for two days with sun/skin poisoning and still caught up with the rest of the folks in Wyoming! In fact, a lot of my trip was spent trying to cool down somehow, or trying to warm up somehow. The sun was the worst of these environmental hazards and, since most of my face was covered with beard or goggles, there was only one significant part available for burning – the tip of my nose. Since the application of sunscreen to such a tiny area was quite difficult without a huge mess, permanent coverage was the best. Although constantly wearing a band-aid on my nose seemed weird at first, it provided the added benefit of telling the giver of my first-aid kit that I had used it for something besides other people’s injuries.

The Sights

Let’s face it folks, all the really great scenery is out west! All the breathtaking vistas that make you almost have a crash, pulling off the road to take a picture at the same point that another 20 people are pulling off. If you think that the scenery in Utah is great, you should see Montana! And if you think Montana has a picture postcard every five minutes, wait until you get to the Yukon and Alaska! I chose not to use a windshield for the Challenge, because I wanted to take a quantity of pictures and video from the bike, and the thought of looking/shooting through a varying amount of dirt day after day was beyond me. Having no windshield turned out to be a good choice, because cleaning my goggles was much easier and the speeds we were going on secondary roads didn’t require a huge wind block. Of course, as I headed north, my quantity of pictures was somewhat limited by lack of time, not wanting to be eaten by wildlife and no waterproof camera.

The Road

If difficulty was represented by weight, and all the roads in the lower 48 were placed on one side of a balance and the Alaska Highway on the other, the Alaska side of the balance would be headed for the center of the earth. In short, the Alaska Highway was the challenge. To quote a brochure, “It is the tremendous length of the highway, combined with its remoteness and the extremes of the Northern climate, that often result in surprises along this highway.” Obviously this pamphlet is given to great understatement. Every possible road hazard known to man is up there: rain, fog, gravel, high winds, extreme cold, rockslides, potholes and huge wild animals sprinkled all over the place. There might be some varying viewpoints as to which part of the road was the best, but as far as the nastiest road there is little disagreement. The 100 miles in the Yukon right before the Alaska line – yup, that’s the one! I’ve heard and read many accounts of the trip and practically everyone, including the first place finisher, concurs with this assessment. Stopping to eat at a café in Destruction Bay, I ran across some other Challenge riders and after breakfast we rode northward as a group toward Alaska. We had to stop a couple of times just to have some moments of actually sitting on the bikes, rather than getting constantly thrown into the air and wondering, “Did I really bend the front wheel that time?”

However, the most famous bad road probably is that little section of Rt. 261 in Utah: a steep, washboardy, twisty, narrow gravel road that climbs about 3,000 feet in just a couple of miles. Only the hairpin turns are paved. As I was almost at the top, I saw a huge 53’ semi inching its way around the curve above me. Burying my right foot peg in the embankment, we just barely cleared as he passed me and, looking over my shoulder, I took a picture of the truck farther down as he met another little Hoka Hey rider who was stopped in his tracks. Although this road was horrendous and you could only go around 5-8 MPH without flying off the mountain, this part of Rt. 261 was only about five miles long – just a blip on the radar of my overall experience.

The Wall

This is the hardest part to write but the most important, because without the people mentioned herein, I might now not be walking the planet and able to tell this little story. Perhaps I had made some bad decisions earlier in the day about how far I thought I could get and what the weather was going to do, but when I pulled out of that gas station in Fort Nelson and headed into the mountains I definitely was not prepared for what was to come. It seemed that with every mile the weather conditions, and my condition, steadily worsened. The rain, which before was just a drizzle, now became a steady downpour. My $30 raingear, with a lot of the rubber ablated by the wind, was not keeping any of the water out and I was wet to the bone. As the high mountains grew closer, I noticed that the snow line on them was getting lower and lower. As I got colder, I started to drive much slower through the rain and fog, and every time I went around a corner I would wonder how the road ahead could possibly go through the mountains I saw. After another hour or so I was in sorry shape indeed. I was shaking so hard that I could just barely ride, and before long I realized that, not only wasn’t I going to get to my chosen gas point, but I might very well end my days out here. It was 28 degrees and starting to get pretty windy. I was all done and was ready to give up. But how do you give up in the middle of the Alaska Highway? Toad River. The town might be a myth for all I knew. I hadn’t seen a vehicle, let alone a human, in many hours and I was horrified at the thought that giving up might be harder than going on, and going on seemed impossible. I had seen a few cabins along the road. They were all abandoned, but I knew that I must find some shelter somewhere. I saw a little place at mile 497 and inched the bike off the shoulder to a building in a little clearing. I had made up my mind that if I tried the door and it didn’t open, I would just sit down and rest against the building, perhaps forever. The door opened, I went inside, and my whole world changed. The couple that owned the establishment saw that I was in trouble indeed, and came immediately to my aid. I was quite embarrassed at being practically incapable of speech and shaking so hard that I couldn’t remove my face mask or rain gear. But they helped me and gradually restored me to some semblance of normalcy. They soaked my forearms in warm water, cooked a meal for me, and had a room for me to stay, complete with a gas heater to dry my clothes. They did everything, short of setting me on their own beast, which a Good Samaritan would do. In my little room, once they cut off the generator to save gas at night, there were no lights or running water – just me with the soft hiss of the heater, being grateful and thinking my own thoughts. In the morning I was completely restored. They gave me a pair of rubber dishwashing gloves to put over my deerskin ones and I thanked them profusely and started out again. It was still raining the same old rain, but I rode along refreshed, basking in the glow of human kindness. So if you’re ever in trouble on the road to Jericho, or even Toad River, I’m sure that there will be Samaritans around to help. Watch for them.

The Last Day

As I was getting ready to leave Haines Junction, a little bird flew out of a bush and landed on my motorcycle pack. I thought that I would like to take a picture of him while it wasn’t raining. As I readied the camera, he flew up and landed on the finger that I was using to press the shutter, so my first close-up of him was a huge wing blocking the lens. This bird then perched on my finger long enough for me to get several good shots of him. He looked at me as if to say, “Hey, if I can be out in this stuff all the time, what’s the matter with you?” He seemed a very friendly chap, like a little totem, and I knew I was going to have a good day. After the previously described torturous road through the rest of the Yukon, we stopped to take obligatory tourist pictures of each other at the Alaska border. We then rode on into the 49th state, with no rain and a great road. I still had my tattered rain gear on and I had plenty of use for it later. As a matter of fact, I had been wearing it for so long that it had to be surgically removed when I got to Homer. Even though I was moving along at a fairly good clip, the time just seemed to be disappearing on me, and this was the last day. Five o’clock in the afternoon found me sitting in a little café about a hundred miles north of Anchorage. I had to borrow someone’s cell phone to call home, as mine was having the plague of the seven day rains or something. I met some Hoka Hey riders who seemed to be talking about Homer in a very familiar way, and I found that they had already finished the Challenge a couple of days before. I shuddered when they said they were riding home, over the same road that I had just been on – to Michigan!! But the thing that really scared me was when they said, “Yah, we left Homer at 8:30 this morning and this is as far as we’ve gotten.” I thought to myself , “Let’s see, 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. ... I’ve got 8-1/2 more hours before I get there!!” If I left right then, it would be 1:30 a.m. before I arrived in Homer, too late for the 14 days I guessed. And then there would be a problem getting gas. Where we were, there was no gas late at night – not like someplace like Newark where you pull in and fill 'er up at 2:00 in the morning! I had almost run out of gas once coming into Teslin, and ended up coasting downhill for a few miles before switching it back on and crossing this horrible bridge to the gas station. Certainly gas was going to be a problem. I pressed on, gassing up in Anchorage, and again just outside of Seward just before they closed. It was still almost 200 miles to the goal and it had started raining again. The road was also getting very bumpy and slippery, and I went slower and slower so as not to suffer the indignity of crashing in the last 30 miles. Finally I was in Homer, but where was the finish line? I looked around desperately for someone to ask, and pulled hopefully into a couple of closed gas stations. But so far, Homer seemed to be a little town without people. Finally, a couple of kids in a pickup told me where the Spit was, and I went creeping on down there. Ah, this is the part of the story in which I get to answer some of the questions constantly put to me. Q: “What was the most beautiful thing you saw on the ride?” A: “The tiny star on the side of the road that became a TV light shining on me, telling me that I was at the end.” Q: “Did you have fun?” A: “Eventually. Sometime after I pulled in to the finish and remembered to put the kickstand down.” Q: “What part of the ride was the most fulfilling?” A: “All the beautiful smiling faces welcoming me to Homer.” I had finished at 1:06 a.m. and, with the four hour time difference, I was more than an hour before the deadline. Even though the people in Alaska don’t seem to know when it is time for sleeping at this time of the year, I desperately needed a little snooze. But I was so juiced from finishing that I talked with the hotel staff ‘til quarter of 4.

Homer

Ever try to go shopping for gifts in a small Alaska town on a Sunday that just happens to be the 4th of July? It didn’t matter that I had to buy gifts in the Safeway supermarket. I was so euphoric that nothing mattered at all. I considered what I had just been through, and every part of the day seemed unbelievably easy. Have to figure out what change makes the laundry machines work? No problem! Got to find some milk to put on the cereal? No problem, got it covered! Even though I’d had less than three hours sleep, I walked out of the Driftwood Inn totally right with the world. In fact, I did find a nice gift shop that was open, with a couple of bald eagles making a nest in a tree across from the parking lot.

In the evening there was a large party for the finishers at a little place about six miles south of town. It was also a community event and many people in the town took shuttle busses out for the ceremonies, including a touching tribute to the veterans. I rode my bike out there on the last of my gas, to leave my bike to be put on the trailer and me to lie on the grass, looking out at the glaciers with my head in the clouds.

Kickin’ Back

I suppose before this is finished I should say something about my inability to keep my clothing and equipment with me. I lost my cell phone outside Tulsa. My spot tracker fell out of my pack in Missoula and was run over by a truck. Left a pair of goggles in a restroom in Idaho, looked for them for half an hour before buying another, much crummier, pair. As others on the ride will testify, I lost many gloves and found some gloves too – never quite equaling the amount I had lost. There were so many lost items, that if you would like to try some salvage, contact me and I will give you my exact route. You should be able to equip a small Boy Scout troop with the stuff that you find.

William Barclay was the first place finisher, riding the course to Homer in a little over 8 days. Of course, I never saw him on the road. After he passed a given point, a fire-damaged forest would have had time to re-grow before I got there. Mr. Barclay is a great guy, well-deserving of the prize. I went to South Dakota about three weeks after the event to shake his hand.

Sitting in the Anchorage airport waiting for my flight home, I had time to reflect on how fortunate I had been to be a part of the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge. There were some people who didn’t feel the way I did. Armchair quarterbacks all, and mostly non-riders, these folks couldn’t find enough stuff to complain about: the ride was too hard, the maps were wrong, the roads were closed, the food at the party was too expensive, they were giving the money to the wrong charities – the list goes on and on. But Jim Red Cloud had said that it wouldn’t be easy and, in my own case, it took well over 150 gallons of gas and thousands of miles to prove that he was right. A lot of people dropped out of the Challenge, which made me consider the idea for a moment. If a person does all the ride preparations, has a great motorcycle, knows all the rules, has all the proper clothes and follows the directions, what could possibly keep him from achieving the goal? It’s fear. Fear, if unchecked, can not only erode your sense of purpose but also your physical well-being as well, and bring down the most stalwart warrior. I talked with a few riders about what gave them the greatest ability to conquer an obstacle and the mental management of fear was the highest on the list, far above motorcycle mechanics, heated socks, adequate sleep, etc. You may have the greatest endurance and the best machine, but when you’re afraid, your normal, logical, healthful systems aren’t working properly, and you can lose your sense of self-worth pretty easily.

When the array of camera lenses had been withdrawn from my face, and when all the jokes about how wasted I looked at the finish had been told, the inevitable question was asked, “Would you do this again?” A rhetorical question it’s true, and one that’s impossible to answer. We live in the constantly evolving present tense, so it’s really not possible to repeat an experience from the past. New horizons are always the inevitable goal, so present regeneration becomes a constant boost – like refueling really – always remembering that anything worth achieving will always require more than one tank of gas.

HOKA HEY!

~ Lynn LePelley, Statesville, NC

Cherie Cross

THE UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

I originally set out on the Hoka Hey Challenge to test ‘my feet to the fire.’ As a motivational speaker, I have been encouraging audiences around the world for the past 26 years to discover THEIR passion and pursue it with determination and resolve. I figured it was time to practice what I preached. My intent was to record skills-based learning CDs for young adults around the world with all the lessons I would learn on my journey. I expected to experience first-hand all the life lessons I have been teaching for years and felt the Hoka Hey would add credibility to my message of ‘HOPE’ for our future generations and leaders.

Well ... it wasn’t even close to what I had expected!

It was nothing like what anyone expected and tougher people than me were dropping like flies because they were unable to change their expectations or to flex and adapt to the rules of the Challenge when they heard the five requirements for the first time on June 19th, the night before the start.

What I learned is that if you can’t change your expectations, then you can’t change!!

For those who expected not to make it ... they didn’t! For those who thought it was a scam ... they convinced themselves that it was! Those who expected it to be easier, cheated! Everyone’s expectations became their reality, so if the expectation was failure, then they got what they expected. It was only when I changed my expectations that I was able to change my journey ... and succeed by being one of the 211 that made it!

Bottom line, what I learned is how to listen. I didn’t know what Care-Taker meant in Arkansas when he simply tugged on his left earlobe and whispered the word, “Listen.” I learned eventually. He meant to ‘listen’ to my gut, instead of the discouraging words of life-suckers and the already doomed; to ‘listen’ to my instincts instead of the know-it-alls who thought they knew the way; to ‘listen’ to my heart, instead of those who didn’t have any. And to change my expectations about the whole journey! This was a challenge of ‘heart,’ not ability or skill, and my only competition was ‘self’. When I went down on Hwy 41 (Alligator Alley) on the first day, in a rain storm, I thought ... “What the hell have I gotten myself into?”… LOL

I had to overcome pride and ego if I was going to make it and every day it was questionable. I disqualified three times and was broken by discouragement every day, at one time or another. Yet I never failed, surprisingly.

I first disqualified when I was sabotaged by one particular rider, who wanted me and everyone else to fail because he was embarrassed by his own failure (which was common among those who criticized Jim Red Cloud and the Hoka Hey the most, LOL). When I was in route to the second checkpoint in Mississippi on the third day, a fellow rider who had already reached that checkpoint called me on my cell phone and informed me that everyone had quit; no one was in Mississippi; the promoters were gone; there was no money; it was all a scam; and that he and a few others would wait for me to arrive if I would just hop on the interstate and disqualify myself so I could make good time, and then we would all ride together to Homer, AK and enjoy the trip. Well, when I reached the checkpoint, after hitting the interstate for 64 miles, I learned that none of what he said was true! He was gone, in route to the third checkpoint, never admitting to the promoters that he had already disqualified himself and was, in fact, taking his own chosen route via interstate, the whole way.

When I informed Beth (my Angel), that I had disqualified myself for the money, her words of encouragement helped me find new hope and a new challenge with new lessons to be learned about determination and the definition of success. Those who failed are those who didn’t learn or even get close to really ‘getting it,’ mainly because they weren’t truthful to themselves or others. They were caught between their own self-destructive expectations and their own disbelief about themselves.

Their hypocrisy weighted them down like an anchor and the fear of being found out intensified their embarrassment, which only fueled their hate. If they couldn’t do it ... they didn’t want anyone else to do it and found fault with those who did. You read it on the blogs and heard the rumors at the stops. It was sad, really. All their time, effort and money wasted on creating a way to survive with some dignity by believing their own lies and calling the Challenge a ‘scam.’ Yet, no one who bad-mouthed Jim or the winner was willing to spring for a lie-detector test to prove that they did any better. Who cares who won the money? One thing’s for sure ... you didn’t. I believe someone else should have won anyway (you know who you are, Ranger from Dawsonville: my hero!). If he’s okay with it, then no one has a right to complain. And who can say for sure? I’m sure we all differ in who we think won the Challenge. I believe if you ‘got it,’ you were changed for life and walked out wiser and blessed, and ... you won!

I don’t believe anyone did it by ALL the qualifications, but begrudging others of good fortune because they did it the best is what led to the battle of Little Big Horn so many years ago. Wanting what others have is what leads to war! History repeats itself if people don’t ... listen. Right, Care-Taker?? Be grateful for what you have. Everyone who survived already has more than those who died!

It wasn't at all what I wanted to write about, and I feel lost over what I really could offer anyone by telling my story. The journey ‘broke me,’ and then ‘made me.’ I doubt that anyone who claimed to be an atheist at the start of the Challenge, finished their own journey as one. Whether you cursed God or praised Him, everyone was aware of Him! It brought everyone (that I met) to their knees at one time or another along the way. Even being angry with God is the very act of acknowledging His power. It was a journey you had to take by yourself and one you couldn’t without the help of others. (Thank you Lloyd, Jersey Girl, Care-Taker, Curly and Jim). Finding that perfect balance between both was key.

I also learned how insignificant I really am and how little I've contributed to this planet. I met men and women that are true heroes along the way. I met one man who is the very meaning of ‘determination.’ My crew, new husband “Cotton” and I stayed in Homer an extra week so we could greet him at the finish line. My admiration for what he accomplished is unparalleled by any other. I knew he would make it when so many doubted. I was thrilled with delight when he proved them all wrong! Terri Meyers, you were the ultimate winner! And your bike was held together by dirt and, I think, a rubber band, LOL. You rock!!

I found the meaning to my journey around the fourth day in New Mexico, eight miles outside of Angel Fire, NM at the First Vietnam Veterans memorial and it was, in a word … ‘Gratefulness.’ This, along with shame, guilt, anger, abandonment, resentment, appreciation, fear, joy, and happiness! I was overwhelmed by the magnificence of these United States, seen from state and county back roads and awestruck by her beauty, rarely noticed in all my work travels, every year around the country. I was grateful to live in a country where I’m free to ride, pray and celebrate what I love, the wind! Proud of the U.S.A.

I was equally sickened by the poverty and misfortune of so many in this country. I was ashamed by how we promote laziness through the ‘system’ and reward-dependence. I was angered by what our government has done, or rather not done, for our Native Americans. I am nauseated by the common misconception that these proud people are well taken care of. I was shocked by how little I really do know and embarrassed by all that I do know and don’t do anything about. It was the hardest thing I've ever done and the most blessed I've ever been! It was a humbling experience and I accomplished something different than what I set out to do.

The Lakota Nation and Jim Red Cloud were awesome in supporting my quest to support our future leaders – our children – through education. Thank you

I disqualified the second time on the 7th day in Arizona. I was chased down by Native Americans on the Navajo Reservation during tribal distress late on a Saturday night. Oddly, I didn’t hate or even resent them for it. I confess, I was a little scared. Beer cans were chucked at my head and I was run off the road very late at night with only a half a tank of gas and no way of getting more. Fortunately, two other riders came by to help me lift my bike and get it back on the road. (Thank you, Jeremy and Jim!) I got a room at the Holiday Inn for five hours in Chenile, AZ until the sun rose, gas stations opened and I was out of danger. The others had gas to travel on. I was grateful for my first shower in five days. My crew decided I should skip the 6th check-point, which was Chief Red Cloud’s house in Pine Ridge, SD, to make up time. The last disqualification happened in the Yukon when I was trailored for five hours after my bike broke down. Ahhh, the truck was warm!! Thank you, K-BOB. Couldn’t have done it without you. Failure is not falling down, it’s remaining where you have fallen!

The most joyous moment was in Homer, AK on July 4th, when I vowed to love my best friend for the rest of my days and I married my ‘lobster,’ Cotton! (BTW, lobsters mate with the same partner for life.) What a great party at the most awesome venue – overlooking Grenwhick Glacier! Thank you for supporting me through all my crazy adventures and making them even better.

Rain, snow, dust storms, wind gusts, fog, extreme heat and crippling cold were my teachers. Loneliness gave birth to self awareness. Coping with exhaustion was the daily goal. And I was my only true enemy. My anger crippled my motivation at the beginning, and forgiveness became my new inspiration to keep going toward the end. Altitude sickness was the most dangerous element we all had to contend with and it was a ‘crap-shoot’ if you survived. I saw America like I've never seen it before. The prejudice, the wealth and privilege, the industry, the magnificence of a country taken for granted by a population that feels entitled to all its glory and splendour – without appreciation or warrant – was clear and evident.

I finally learned my last lesson about ‘listening’ after the event. It occurred two weeks later on my way home as I rode from Seattle, WA to Pine Ridge, SD – 1,800 miles to Chief Red Cloud’s house (the stop I missed before). I had experienced every emotion known to man during the event (and I think a few new ones for the psychology books). Yet, there was something that I needed to do and it was frustrating because I didn’t know what it was. My journey was incomplete and I didn’t know why. I had the nagging thought to go see the Chief (totally out of my way home to Atlanta, GA). That nagging thought turned into a burning hot desire, almost feeling like desperation.

I waited patiently in his entrance way, heart pumping. When the Chief rolled out from his bedroom and came around the corner, I was suddenly filled with shame and love. I fell on my knees and buried my head in his lap as I sobbed the words, “I’m so sorry … sorry for EVERYTHING!” I then reached in my back pocket and pulled out the one thing that meant more to me than anything else I owned at the time ... my gold and silver coin, #261. This was given to each of us with our own number embossed the night before the start and we were told we must carry it on the whole trip as one of the five qualifications of the Hoka Hey Challenge. Jim Red Cloud offered me and others $1,000 for our coins when we crossed the finish line in Homer on July 3rd. My response was, “You’ll have to pry it from my dead, cold hands. It represents everything I’ve been through and all that I’ve learned. NO WAY!!”

It wasn’t until I experienced the feeling of ‘loss’ that I got it (the message that Care-Taker was trying to teach me). Loss is self-defined. What it does to you or for you is up to you. Listen to your Heart.

When I handed the Chief my coin, I told him that I felt the coin was never mine. I wanted to give something back because of all that was taken from his people. I knew it was small, but it meant more to me than anything else I could have given. I thanked him for allowing me the privilege of carrying it with me while I learned so many unexpected lessons and I felt that he was the rightful owner, not me.

I was instantly consumed by sadness; I was struck by panic and overwhelmed by loss. The feeling of loss was what I needed to try and understand what the Native Americans had experienced. (Even though it was insignificant by comparison – I’m sure, it wasn’t even close!) In a phrase ... THEY FELT LOSS!

The Chief, who had his own reasons for prejudice against a race who destroyed his own, cupped my face in his two leathery hands and said something. With tears in his eyes, he assured me it was okay without using those exact words. He also whispered something about ‘healing’ and ‘a wheel.’ I wish I could remember his exact words or that I have an opportunity to ask him if he remembers one day. I was so stopped up from crying. No matter, the moment we shared was unlike any other I could have hoped for or even expected.

Between the Chief and I, the conversation included understanding, forgiveness, gratitude and acceptance. Some of it was spoken; most of it was just understood or felt. It was graduation day from the journey, but it was just the beginning of a new Challenge and the beginning of a new day with new lessons to be learned. Finally, I felt the completion, which was my reward for being open to all those hard lessons. Who knew? I met up with my crew 60 miles later and climbed into the truck and sang every song played on the radio on the way home.

I made some good friends for life and discovered I really didn't have a clue about all the things I was proud of before the Hoka Hey. Wow! I didn't learn one lesson that I expected to learn on this historical event. I did discover that I'm just not all that I thought I was and way more than I believed I am. And now, I have the hope to be so much more!

If you’re even considering riding in the second annual Hoka Hey Challenge in August, 2011, then ‘listen’ to your own heart. Not all the ‘blood-clot’ crying from those who puke meaningless accusations on the blogs or in circles. They don’t want you to experience what they couldn’t. Make your own decision, based on the story you want to tell when it’s all over … and it’s never really over once you experience the Hoka Hey Challenge. Few have the privilege of telling such a story. What will yours be?

If you doubt your own ability, get used to it! Doubt will become your friend. The experience is not what you expect and, if you can’t change your expectations ... then you’ll never change. Maybe that’s a good thing??

I wonder how I’ll do next time with more danger than the first time? Hope it works out because I can’t wait!

Respectfully,

~ Cherie “Messenger” Collins, Dawsonville, GA

Bob Zubaugh

On June 17th, 2010 Sherryl and I set off on a ride of a lifetime. As I would often say, it wasn’t the ride, it was the journey. I was one of two Hoka Hey challengers that was authorized a passenger. Sherryl and I left for Key West on the 17th. A week earlier Sherryl had purchased a ticket to fly from Key West to Melbourne. She was going to see me off and return home. But a few days later I convinced her to ride with me. That decision changed our lives forever.

We left Key West with well over 400, but much less than the 1,000 challengers we all anticipated. Several hours into the Challenge, I was leading a small group of riders when I missed a turn and reversed my direction. Two riders went down in front of us trying to reverse their direction. We stopped, called 911 and provided aid until the sheriff arrived. Fortunately for us, that was the only accident we saw firsthand during our journey. That’s pretty remarkable since we rode almost 17,000 miles. Sadly, we later learned that two challengers, both from Florida, died in separate accidents and at least 30 riders went down between Key West and Homer.

The first checkpoint was at Destination Daytona, a Harley dealership in Ormond Beach, FL. We rode back and forth, east to west, through rain showers, made the first checkpoint and then headed on to the second at Southern Thunder in Southaven, MS. My passing lamps went out shortly after leaving Southaven and riding at night quickly became too hazardous. The next checkpoint was quite a ride – 2,700+ miles to Flaming Gorge Harley in Rock Springs, WY. This was by far the best dealership on the entire ride. Just good people. Although not identified as a checkpoint, the fourth was at Chief Oliver Red Cloud’s home in Pine Ridge, SD. Quite a few riders missed this checkpoint (guess they couldn’t find BIA-32) and when Sherryl and I rode in, they were amazed that Sherryl did not get off and walk down the washed out road since many riders dropped their Harley’s trying to navigate the numerous deep ruts. They took our pictures – LOL, those ruts were nothing compared to what lay ahead. We thanked the Chief for opening his home and rode off to the next checkpoint in Missoula, MT. We later learned that numerous riders went down and the first fatality occurred around Douglas, WY.

It was now getting cold so we bought heavier gloves and chaps before entering Canada on our way to checkpoint six in Fairbanks, AK. Our first day in Canada was uneventful. Just lots of traffic and, of course, terrible roads. I was also fighting a sore throat and cold, which had started the second day out of Key West and was really bothersome by now. We stopped in Fort St. John for the night, and during dinner I asked Sherryl to marry me. Sherryl said yes and I was thrilled. I later checked the marriage requirements in Alaska and found a three-day waiting requirement. We wanted to get married during the July 4th celebration, so once again we were up and on the road early. We rode into some freezing rain and we were forced to stop south of Whitehorse, when the rain came down so hard I couldn’t see the road. We stopped at a fish camp and got a cabin for $110. It was primitive with a single baseboard heater. We finally rode out of the rain as we neared Fairbanks. The roads in Canada were a mixture of frost heaves, mud and gravel. We heard that many riders went down. Quite a few were able to bend things back enough to continue the ride. Some were not as lucky. We saw quite a few bikes at the Harley dealerships in Alaska being repaired and/or crated for shipment home. We pressed on – riding 22 hours straight from that cabin to Fairbanks and then south through Anchorage on our way to Homer. It was dusk for two or three hours and the rest of the time it was daylight. I finally got so tired that I was having trouble staying awake. We stopped at another fish camp and Sherryl convinced me to stop for a few hours; two to be exact, and then we were back on the road.

We arrived in Homer on July 1st shortly before noon as the 46th rider(s) to finish. After checking in at the finish line, we went to the County Clerk's office and placed a motion before the court to waive the three-day waiting period so we could get married during Sunday's July 4th Hoka Hey Party. It was granted and we were married Sunday evening. We purchased custom-made rings from a local craftsman. Jim Red Cloud was my best man, his wife Beth was Sherryl's maid of honor; Whittany, the Hoka Hey Girl, was Sherryl's bridesmaid. In Alaska, anyone can be appointed by the court as a Marriage Commissioner. We asked Judge Sharon Gleason to appoint our friend Dale Galbraith and that was also granted. That was sweet because Dale was a Hoka Hey challenger that went down on his Screamin' Eagle near Douglas, WY and subsequently flew into Homer for the Challenge's conclusion. Dale performed the ceremony against a backdrop of Alaskan glaciers.

We are very happy, yet truly saddened by the many riders that went down and the two deaths. We left Homer on July 6th and took a short ride down the California coast and those magnificent Redwoods. We stopped in Redding, CA and Salt Lake City, UT to visit my friends and then in Bowling Green, TN to visit Sherryl’s daughter on our way back to Florida. This was truly the ride of a lifetime and something Sherryl and I will cherish for the rest of our lives. We hope this gives you a glimpse into our experiences. You should beware because we will be talking about this journey for a very long time. Just ask us! LOL

Hoka Hey!!

~ Bob and Sherryl Zubaugh, FL

Junie Rose

Hoka Hey Ya'll

My journey started well before I ever reached the starting line. While sitting in a cancer center in Mattoon Illinois, in March of 2010, receiving chemotherapy I read about the Hoka Hey Challenge. A room filled with other cancer patients, I shared my findings, I said listen to this, there is a 7000 mile motorcycle challenge going from Key West Florida to Homer Alaska with a prize of half a million dollars in gold. That's when someone said you should do that. When my oncologist walked in I asked him if he thought I would be strong enough to do this ride. He said go for it, go live your life. Then handed me a hundred dollars to get things rolling. I shared this with some friends and within two days they had started a campaign to make it happen. Fliers were printed and distributed around Mattoon and within a week people were donating things for a silent auction they planned, t-shirts were made with my name on them with the famous pink ribbon in the center, a poker run was planned and so it was to be that I would ride this amazing ride. Friends and family gave me money for gas and what-not. They asked me if there would be a way to follow me so I set up a group page on facebook so they could join me.

Things started out a little rocky at the beginning with me sitting at the pancake house when everyone was leaving. I could have sworn Jim Red Cloud said we were leaving at sunrise which was 6:43a.m. But when I heard all the bikes taking off I scooped up my stuff and made a dash for my bike; which was sitting all by herself under the canopy at the Marriot.  Dodging the bikes I would be competing against it was a miracle I didn't get hit at the corner. I still owe an apology to the lady who had the misfortune of walking out of the Marriot just as I reached my bike because needless to say I was not happy. So off we rode across the bridges; disregarding everything that was said about jockeying for position I was riding like I had gold rush fever.

It didn't take any time at all to catch up with everyone but I felt like I needed to be further up in the pack and was passing like a nut every chance I got. I caught up with a guy named Mick whoI had met in Gainesville and rode down to the keys with. I was trying to stay with him and Chris Carr but they were crazier then I was and I lost them. Then I realized that I was out front with no one behind me. Well the reason no one was behind me was because I was going the wrong route. I had missed the toll bridge completely. After that; Florida was pretty much a blur. I was rained on at least five times that day and finally ran in to a few riders one of which was wearing a garbage bag for rain gear. You remember thinking that for a ride like this a guy would have rain gear but I found out later he had lightened his load somewhere crossing the bridges and one of the things in that bag was his rain gear. I think the first day everyone was a little goofy. So there was me, garbage bag guy and a guy they called Rubber, uniting our efforts to find our way through Florida. I didn't feel so bad about getting lost so quickly because they were as confused as I was. It was probably about midnight when we finally arrived in Daytona. Me and Garbage Bag got a couple beers and toasted to our first day and then got some sleep.
 
Rubber was already gone when I woke up but Garbage Bag was still there and so we ended up heading out for day two together and stayed together the rest of the ride. Quite a few people were there when we left so we figured we were still doing okay. Garbage Bag was quite the person to have around I realized after a few days of riding. He was an ex-Marine and had been trained for just about anything. It was like having MacGyver with me. Our second day of riding there was no rain but lots of sun and heat so I came up with the idea of finding a lake or river to jump into to cool off. No we did not skinny dip but we did have our hillbilly bathing suits, so we found a secluded spot in a river in Alabama, I think, and jumped in. Garbage Bag thought it was the perfect opportunity to do his laundry and bathe so he brought his Dawn dish soap and took care of several tasks all at the same time. I just floated around in my hillbilly bathing suit and enjoyed the cool water.

Our second night was spent next to a liquor store, conveniently enough, right outside of the Talledega, Alabama state park. There was a picnic table with an area that just looked perfect for our needs. We had stopped at a Piggly Wiggly and bought pork chops that we cooked on a stick over a campfire Garbage Bag had built. I mentioned how nice it would be to take a shower and next thing I knew he was pulling a portable shower out of his saddle bags. He said as long as there was water he could rig something up. So I walked over to the liquor store that was now closed to see if there was a hose or faucet outside and as luck would have it - there was! I figured I could handle a cold shower but Garbage Bag had found something to heat the water up so I took a nice warm shower behind the liquor store.

The pork chops were yummy with a couple more cold beers. A really crazy storm had blown through that night and we found out the next day there was a tornado so it was a good thing we stopped.

When I woke up the next morning Garbage Bag was mumbling something outside the tent so I stuck my head out to see what he was saying and he said his boot was missing. Like a critter had walked off with it. Or it had burned up in that campfire he had built (I had mentioned the night before that maybe he didn't want to leave the boots by - crispy filet of sole. It was then he realized what else was in that bag he left back in Florida... his other shoes. Fortunately we were close to town so he only had to ride barefoot for a short time. We saw some other riders that had taken shelter in a car wash. Good thinking.

We made it to the next check point middle of the day and heard that people were way ahead of us so we started riding more for the enjoyment and started stopping to take pictures. Arkansas has insane. We must have gotten lost as much there as we did in Florida. Whenever you ask someone in Arkansas for directions they would say "where ya headed?" We even asked a mailman for directions and he was no help so we didn't get very far that day either. We stayed in a state park that night and made brats over our campfire. We could hear a guy playing his guitar and singing his heart out under the stars that night. Like a lullaby for two very tired babies.

Next morning we were up very early trying to get a fresh start to another long day. We made it across Oklahoma and across the panhandle of Texas. We knew we were deviating from the route but figured we weren't going to win anyway so we didn't care. We were about 12 miles from the New Mexico state line when we found a road side rest area that had a bunch of picnic tables which we turned into our next hotel. I put my bike on one side of the table and Garbage Bag put his on the other and took a tarp I had and draped it over the table to block some of the wind. I pumped up my air mattress and slid it under the table. Garbage Bag slid in next to me and I slept like a passenger on an Amtrak with him on the outside protecting me from anything that might come our way.

New Mexico was beautiful. We met a guy named Larry who was an Apache Indian. Larry caught our attention because he had tattooed his face with blood and tears, symbolic of what his people had been through. He told us casinos were not enough to make up for the things his family had suffered. We shared with him the reason we were out there and knew we had made a new friend.

I figured we were already so far behind that Garbage Bag wouldn't mind if we stopped to see some friends I hadn't seen in 15 years who live in Colorado on our way up to our next check point in Wyoming. So, we met up with her in Denver and had breakfast shared a few stories from the road thus far and started across the mountains toward Fruita where I caught up with the brother and sister in law of my friend in Denver. We promised each other we wouldn't let that much time go by before we saw each other and then off I rode. We hadn't gotten very far into Utah before we stopped for the night and were so glad we had because Utah is a state you need to see. Gorgeous!!

When we got to the next check point in Wyoming it was hard to get moving again because that dealership really out did themselves. I love how they had put so much thought into what us riders might need. Everything from soup to nuts. Comfy couches and chairs. And the Mom was such a hoot. It was okay that she was rooting for the Australians especially after all they had been through. That night we set up camp in the most peaceful place on earth. There were mountains on one side and a river on the other. It was a reservoir so it was free to boot. There was a glorified out house there but Garbage Bag said there were critters out there and that we needed to leave our scent to put them on the offense and leave us alone.  What did that mean exactly? He wanted me to pee outside. Oh brother! But I did it when he left to find some firewood. He said we might not have all these conveniences up in the Yukon so I went along with the plan. We made some of the most awesome steak sandwiches that night smothered in grilled onions and seasonings he had in his saddlebags that he said were to keep bugs at bay. When we rode out of there the next morning we saw some wild horses.

Now I know we were suppose to be heading toward South Dakota but we didn't do that either. We just started north toward the next check point in Missoula, Montana hoping to actually catch up with some of our fellow riders. If it wasn't so cold there in the winter I might actually think about moving there. Being from Illinois mostly all you see here is corn and soy beans. No mountains, no huge trees, no wild horses.
 
 I bought a new tire in Missoula figuring this would be the last dealership in the US and heard the roads were a lot rougher up in Canada and Alaska. After looking at the route from there Garbage Bag came up with a plan to be sipping a cold one in Alaska before a lot of our fellow riders by going west to Washington and then up. Well that probably would have been a great plan if we weren't stopped at the Canadian boarder. Yep - "Sorry sir. You can't come in. OMG! All this and now it was either go it alone or stop here. We had really become great friends and Garbage Bag had taken pretty good care of this girl thus far. I didn't know what to do. Looking back I have to say I have a lot of regrets for not going on but there were a lot of 'what ifs' in my mind at the time.  I know you can't change the past; only learn from it and so that's what I  have done. I would never give up the friendship we created for anything and this next ride from San Diego to Nova Scotia will be a lot different for me.

I hope you enjoyed my little diatribe and that it helps you to remember some of the great times and place, people, and friends you made along the way. By the way we made the best of the situation and headed down the coast and into California where I caught up with another friend I hadn't seen in 23 years. Best trip I have ever taken in my life and can't wait to give it another try!

Junie  

Gene Adee

July 17, 2010 - I just want to thank you for your support on my 19,200 mile odyssey. Riding to Alaska was something I've always wanted to do but never thought would happen. There were ups and there were downs, but nothing unhandleable. I’m a firm believer in, “The only thing that separates an ordeal from an adventure is attitude.” And, WOW, what an adventure this was! You just have to remember to practice what you mentally preach, z’all.

For a supposed 7000 mile ride it took me 9115 miles to do the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge. They must have used a globe and an abacus in their figuring. ;-) Except for Mother Nature slowing me for a short time in Banff I was still able to come in under the wire. Believe it when I say I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Maybe even next year.

It really meant a lot to me to receive your encouragement and well wishes. I'm glad you were able to "ride along" and maybe get an idea of some of what the USA and Canada have to offer, at least through my eyes. I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed the experience. The sights/sounds/smells, the wildlife, the other than paved roads, the challenge of following non-maps and non-instructions, camping, electric warmth, not shaving or bathing, rain/hail/snow, duck strike, milestones and kidney stones, deserts to snow covered mountains, 28º to 116º, sprinkler storm, ma and pa restaurants, living in a rain suit, small towns, secondary roads, bears up close and personal, Indians (both real and imagined), welcomes and good-byes, women yelling my name in the streets ;-), and especially riding with Team Judy, all made it memorable, and worthwhile. And I
thank you for that.

It’ll take me awhile to get my bike cleaned up (to my anal satisfaction) but I think I’m up to the task. I’ve been through it with a big wrench and tightened everything back up. Surprisingly, I’ve only found two things I have to replace, the louvered door on my lower fairing from a duck passing through and a leaking right rear shock. Quite a welcome surprise considering all the surfaces I travelled. Unbelievable. I tell’ya Harley’s rule!

I have two more longish rides this summer before I start looking for a 2011 Ultra Classic Limited, the Sturgis Rally and the Three Flags Classic over the Labor Day weekend with Team Judy. Yeah!

I have to replace my SPOT tracker. With over 200,000 miles (and however many hours that is) of facing into the sun, and not tracking properly anymore, it’s time for the pasture.

Once again, thank you.
Gene

Click here to read Gene's entire story.