October 4th and 5th, 1997
(Story by Don "BlckChrome" Soland VROC#60, photos by Rick "Wolfman" Jakubas VROC#3)
Well, despite expectations, the Great Midwest Run through
Illinois and Indiana didn't start out so great. An early morning
weather forecast, teasing us with a 30% chance of morning
showers, promptly rained on my packed bike. A further teasing
sunbeam convinced us (well, me) that we didn't need "no
stinking helmets." 
AAHH.
So now it comes out: I caused the bad weather. I'd love to make
as much money as weather forecasters and be wrong 50% of the
time. I also heard today that NASA withdrew that Mission Control
job offered to me since I never could get anywhere on time
through the weekend.
After fighting the wet roads and heavy morning traffic, we finally met up with Wolfman Rick Jakubas only 10 minutes late. Loading up, we headed out of the parking lot and the first of many of the 30% showers of the day turned us back around to put on rain gear for the first of many repeated times. Heading East, we found slow going with wet and heavy roads. A break in the clouds and a very warm morning prompted us to stop and put the rain gear back.
Finally hitting the interstate, we figured we could make up some time. WRONG! As we later found out, multiple accidents had virtually shut down the interstate and we got to enjoy the former interstate, now parking lot, as Mother Nature constantly relieved herself upon us. A "friendly" lady trucker giving us the one-finger salute and telling us to "duck" ourselves, or something like that, made it an extra enjoyable time. Escaping to an oasis, we gassed up, ("Whoa! Made all of 15 miles per tankful!") and hit the road again to again rest next to the same "friendly" folks we had just left.
Having had enough, we bailed off into the breakdown lane to
escape to the next exit South and hopefully make up some time.
Turning at our next cross street back East, we met another
parking lot caused by who knew what and the monsoon started
again. Rick, seeing how my rainsuit likes to get real friendly
with my exhaust, painting it a nice plastic black, rolled up his
right leg and it promptly got soaked. Totally frustrated, we
figured we would turn around again, head back (West?) and find
the next major route South.
Finally, we seemed to hit upon a road that was moving; the rains had stopped, so we stopped and took off our sauna suits, all except my S.O. Sally. Hitting the road again, ... it started to rain again. So we stopped again to re-gear. Now Rick's suit had started its Mission Impossible Self Destruction phase at this time and the left leg had nearly ripped off, so he ripped the remaining part off, put the suit on backwards and we headed on.
Mother nature really got angry and she let loose with all her fury. Riding in the rain is SO much fun, and Rick was enjoying his first experience. Seeking shelter at a roadside cafe SOMEWHERE? I called our arranged rendezvous point at noon to say we would be a little late. Sitting near a window and watching our dripping wet bikes get thoroughly washed, we asked where we were. After finding we were still 1 - 2 hours away, Rick now called and said we may arrive by boat or ark and be even later, but the group decided to wait anyway. By now Rick was seriously tempted to turn back around and Sally and I decided to gut it out ahead. The rain finally stopped, but we decided to ride in rain gear anyway; we loaded up again, and, with trepidation, even Rick, headed South again. Now Mother nature decided to let her "wind" loose and what was left of Rick's rainsuit quickly disappeared.
Making a stop and picking up a new rain suit (of course it never rained again), we cranked up the big twins and finally rolled into our meeting place 3 hours late to a parking lot full of 5 great looking Vulcans and their pilots: (left to right) Daymon "Hawk" West, Don Diehls, Don "BlckChrome" Soland, Larry Gray, Rick "Wolfman" Jakubas, Don "Wildman" Douglas, and Jeff Saunders.
Quick introductions and trying to still make our 4:00 destination, "Wildman" Don led us through the Indiana countryside. ("Wildman" Don ("I don't own no stinkin' cornputre") had heard Don Diehls rumble through his town on the way to meet the rest of us and decided to tag along.) We all swore we were lost, but we finally cruised into our destination at 5:00, now only one hour late. If others were waiting for us and got tired, we apologize.
After agreeing to let everybody check in and meet back in town at 6:30, Sally and I found a local bar and, like gravity, the rest of the remaining group found us and we enjoyed drinks and introductions.
It turned out that Daymon and Larry needed to head out early. "Wildman" Don found a new friend in Missy, who guided us to some great Pizza and more great conversation. By now we were all tired and decided to adjourn until 9:00 in the morning.
The next morning found 4 remaining bikes get together and, after discovering the "famed" covered bridges were all on gravel roads!, we decided on another route. With Sally as our guide, we wound South and gently back into Illinois where we again stopped for morning coffee.
After many pictures, (Jeff, you really have to stop asking us to get out the cameras ....hee hee) and realizing our too short and too wet weekend was coming to too quick of an end, we started making our plans to divide. First Wolfman Rick left us to head back to Chicago to pick up his wife, "enjoy" the airport and not get home until 10:00. The remainder of the group stopped for sandwiches, cold brews, great conversation and then Jeff Saunders headed out. Finally Don Diehls broke off and Sally and I cranked it up, let the big twin rumble, and rode the remaining miles back to Chicago, ending up in town, numb but with frozen smiles on our faces.
It was a great pleasure meeting all the VROCs and their steeds and even the non VROCs (aka Wildman Don and Missy). As Don Diehls said, great conversations, friendships and plans for the next ride were cast.
Good luck all those going on the next rides, hope your weather is better but your rides are just as good as ours.