I set the tone for my inaugural Cal24 rally early. Thursday, to be precise - the night before I was to
leave for San Jose. I’d been waiting for a new controller to arrive for my heated gear for over a
month, and it finally made its appearance about 16 hours before kickstand-up. Conventional wisdom
says that changing your bike in the weeks before a rally is ill advised, say nothing of hours before.
But this was a straight-forward install: no cutting, no difficult mounting or routing. The controller was
already fused with battery terminal eyelets already installed, so all I had to do was connect it to my
battery. What could possibly go wrong?
Over the course of my evening, I installed my controller (yeah!) and found that my Tire Pressure
Monitoring System no longer worked (crap). I found that while installing the controller I had
accidentally disconnected a wire at the TPMS switch (yeah!) which didn’t fix the problem (crap). I
found that the disconnected wire had caused a blown fuse (yeah!) and now my controller and my
TPMS both worked (yeah!) but my amp didn’t (crap). A few different fuses serve different parts of
my amp circuit, so after checking several wires I found that a wire had been pulled out of the fuse
box when I swapped out the other fuse (yeah!) Now my amp switch would light up (yeah!) but still
no audio (crap). I eventually tracked down the problem to one of the wires I had previously checked
(yeah!); when I'd pulled it out to check the fuse, I managed to pull the wire out of a connector
(crap). I didn’t have any more of the particular connector I needed (crap) but after some impressive
MacGuyvering I managed to restore my bike to the same condition it had been in before my easy ten-
minute controller installation began five hours earlier (yeah!).
Disaster averted, I set out for San Jose the next morning. My ride was relatively uneventful, although
I was surprised that my husband Mike hadn’t called to confirm that my SPOT tracking page was
working as we had discussed. With my fuel cell I was able to make the trip non-stop, and I arrived to
find about 200 missed calls and texts from Mike. Apparently my SPOT hadn’t been tracking
properly, and he began to worry when I didn’t answer my phone for hours. My Zumo showed that
my phone was connected, so I couldn’t figure out why it hadn’t alerted me of any incoming calls. Of
course, my old Zumo had failed the previous week and this new replacement Zumo might still need
the Bluetooth settings fine-tuned. I set Mike on the task of figuring out what the problem might be so
I could go check in and get through tech inspection without having to worry about it too much. I
rolled into the hotel around 1pm and my inspection started right away. Everything went fine, but it
seemed to me that one of my fuel cell fittings was a little shinier than it should be. It had never
leaked before, and when I touched it my finger seemed to come away dry, so I didn’t worry too
much about it. I went ahead and did my odo check, and by the time I came back the shiny spot had
turned into a full fledged leak. Dagnabbit. I’d deliberately not packed a ton of tools, figuring that
anything requiring major tools would be too much for me to recover from on a 24-hour rally
anyhow. Luckily everyone around me chipped in some tools and Alex Harper had the fuel-rated
thread tape I needed, so within about 45 minutes I had pulled the tank, re-taped the joint, reinstalled
everything and was once again leak free. Thank goodness I got that out of the way!
While I was wrapping up my fuel cell install, Mike called and shed some light on my phone situation.
He had discovered that our new phones were not compatible with the Zumo. It was sheer luck that
they recognized each other at all, but there would be no way to get everything fully functional unless I
got a new phone. That would have been nice to know before I was sitting at the starting line, but
since the phone and Zumo both showed a good connection and I was able to make calls, it never
occurred to me that I might be missing incoming calls. He had also called SPOT, who swore that
sometimes the tracking and on lights would flash in unison as if tracking when it was just sending out
an “OK” message. For five straight hours. I wasn't buying it, but hopefully SPOT would see fit to
track properly the next day.
In retrospect, maybe I should have run away when I was assigned rider number 13. I drew a kind of
shamrock/snot puddle thing on my flag (I’ve been told that my artistic "ability" leaves something to be
desired) hoping that might counteract any bad omens that might accompany my new number. No
biggie. I’m not particularly superstitious, so I figured the combination of the shamrock and my lucky
necklace would work together to cancel out the 13 and leave me back on level ground. After getting
everything sorted out downstairs, I finally checked into the hotel and made my way up to my room. I
wanted to make sure my computer was charged and everything was ready to roll for the next
morning. I saved a new Streets & Trips file with my custom pushpins, saved an Excel file with
appropriately named tabs, and attempted to connect to the internet. After an hour of troubleshooting
I still wasn’t connected and it was time to head down to the rider’s meeting. The meeting went fine,
meaning I managed not to fall in the pool or break any bones, and when it was done I headed straight
for my room and another hour or so of troubleshooting. I finally sorted out the problem and got my
browser functioning properly, so around 9:30pm I went to bed knowing I had everything in order for
efficient routing the next morning.
The 5:45am riders meeting was quick and to-the-point, so a few minutes later I was running back to
my room clutching my bonus pack and a thumb drive harboring my electronic waypoints. I tried to
process the text file like I’ve done in the past, but I couldn’t get it to load. It was in a different format
than I was used to seeing, so I tried to modify the file a bit so S&T would recognize it, to no avail. I
tried opening the other two file types provided on the drive, but neither of them would open either.
Time was ticking by and I knew I was getting nowhere fast, but I’d already invested so much time in
trying to get the text file right that I just couldn’t give up. I figured once I got that file sorted out it
would be smooth sailing, and I knew I must be just a click or two away from getting it right. Twenty-
five minutes into our hour of free routing time I finally gave up on the electronic waypoints and
started inputting the bonii by hand. I tried to remember to save often, but I got on a roll for a while
there and apparently I forgot. I was reminded when my f*%king computer froze up. I’d had about
¾ of the bonii programmed in at the time of the crash, and I lost all but ten. By that time it was
about 7:15am, 15 minutes after we were officially allowed to leave, and I was still monkeying around
trying to make the waypoints viewable on a map. I had no idea whatsoever what the overview of the
base route looked like, let alone the Dog Bone or thread bonii options. I just couldn't sit around any
longer, so I decided to use the .gpx file to load the bonii into my GPSs as POIs. I had to return the
thumb drive, so I copied the files to my desktop before wrapping things up and headed for the
parking lot. I would aim towards the first bonus in the base route and try to formulate a plan on the
way. If worse came to worse, I would get to the first checkpoint early enough to plan a strong
second and third legs. It was almost 7:30am, but my rally was finally under way.
A few other guys were in the parking lot when I was gearing up, and they all seemed to have
experienced problems similar to mine. Alex Harper was there, and he mentioned that he used
MapSource to view the .gpx file. I had tried to open the .gpx file by double-clicking, but I hadn’t
tried opening MapSource and then opening the file. He said, “No, I just double-clicked on the file
and it opened right up.” Weird. (After the rally I checked out the files I had transferred to my
desktop. The .gpx file, which my computer had previously claimed could not be opened with any
program known to mankind, popped up with a shiny new MapSource logo after it was copied to my
desktop. Upon clicking, it happily opened the full bonii list without a moment’s hesitation. Dag.
Nab. It. While making a route map for this story, I saved the .gpx file on a thumb drive. Even
though I created the file in MapSource, it did not show the MapSource logo and would not open until
I jumped through a bunch of hoops to convince it that MapSource was the program for the job.
Interesting. Must investigate further.) Well, it was too late to do anything about it at that point. For
now, it was off the Bonus One.
leave for San Jose. I’d been waiting for a new controller to arrive for my heated gear for over a
month, and it finally made its appearance about 16 hours before kickstand-up. Conventional wisdom
says that changing your bike in the weeks before a rally is ill advised, say nothing of hours before.
But this was a straight-forward install: no cutting, no difficult mounting or routing. The controller was
already fused with battery terminal eyelets already installed, so all I had to do was connect it to my
battery. What could possibly go wrong?
Over the course of my evening, I installed my controller (yeah!) and found that my Tire Pressure
Monitoring System no longer worked (crap). I found that while installing the controller I had
accidentally disconnected a wire at the TPMS switch (yeah!) which didn’t fix the problem (crap). I
found that the disconnected wire had caused a blown fuse (yeah!) and now my controller and my
TPMS both worked (yeah!) but my amp didn’t (crap). A few different fuses serve different parts of
my amp circuit, so after checking several wires I found that a wire had been pulled out of the fuse
box when I swapped out the other fuse (yeah!) Now my amp switch would light up (yeah!) but still
no audio (crap). I eventually tracked down the problem to one of the wires I had previously checked
(yeah!); when I'd pulled it out to check the fuse, I managed to pull the wire out of a connector
(crap). I didn’t have any more of the particular connector I needed (crap) but after some impressive
MacGuyvering I managed to restore my bike to the same condition it had been in before my easy ten-
minute controller installation began five hours earlier (yeah!).
Disaster averted, I set out for San Jose the next morning. My ride was relatively uneventful, although
I was surprised that my husband Mike hadn’t called to confirm that my SPOT tracking page was
working as we had discussed. With my fuel cell I was able to make the trip non-stop, and I arrived to
find about 200 missed calls and texts from Mike. Apparently my SPOT hadn’t been tracking
properly, and he began to worry when I didn’t answer my phone for hours. My Zumo showed that
my phone was connected, so I couldn’t figure out why it hadn’t alerted me of any incoming calls. Of
course, my old Zumo had failed the previous week and this new replacement Zumo might still need
the Bluetooth settings fine-tuned. I set Mike on the task of figuring out what the problem might be so
I could go check in and get through tech inspection without having to worry about it too much. I
rolled into the hotel around 1pm and my inspection started right away. Everything went fine, but it
seemed to me that one of my fuel cell fittings was a little shinier than it should be. It had never
leaked before, and when I touched it my finger seemed to come away dry, so I didn’t worry too
much about it. I went ahead and did my odo check, and by the time I came back the shiny spot had
turned into a full fledged leak. Dagnabbit. I’d deliberately not packed a ton of tools, figuring that
anything requiring major tools would be too much for me to recover from on a 24-hour rally
anyhow. Luckily everyone around me chipped in some tools and Alex Harper had the fuel-rated
thread tape I needed, so within about 45 minutes I had pulled the tank, re-taped the joint, reinstalled
everything and was once again leak free. Thank goodness I got that out of the way!
While I was wrapping up my fuel cell install, Mike called and shed some light on my phone situation.
He had discovered that our new phones were not compatible with the Zumo. It was sheer luck that
they recognized each other at all, but there would be no way to get everything fully functional unless I
got a new phone. That would have been nice to know before I was sitting at the starting line, but
since the phone and Zumo both showed a good connection and I was able to make calls, it never
occurred to me that I might be missing incoming calls. He had also called SPOT, who swore that
sometimes the tracking and on lights would flash in unison as if tracking when it was just sending out
an “OK” message. For five straight hours. I wasn't buying it, but hopefully SPOT would see fit to
track properly the next day.
In retrospect, maybe I should have run away when I was assigned rider number 13. I drew a kind of
shamrock/snot puddle thing on my flag (I’ve been told that my artistic "ability" leaves something to be
desired) hoping that might counteract any bad omens that might accompany my new number. No
biggie. I’m not particularly superstitious, so I figured the combination of the shamrock and my lucky
necklace would work together to cancel out the 13 and leave me back on level ground. After getting
everything sorted out downstairs, I finally checked into the hotel and made my way up to my room. I
wanted to make sure my computer was charged and everything was ready to roll for the next
morning. I saved a new Streets & Trips file with my custom pushpins, saved an Excel file with
appropriately named tabs, and attempted to connect to the internet. After an hour of troubleshooting
I still wasn’t connected and it was time to head down to the rider’s meeting. The meeting went fine,
meaning I managed not to fall in the pool or break any bones, and when it was done I headed straight
for my room and another hour or so of troubleshooting. I finally sorted out the problem and got my
browser functioning properly, so around 9:30pm I went to bed knowing I had everything in order for
efficient routing the next morning.
The 5:45am riders meeting was quick and to-the-point, so a few minutes later I was running back to
my room clutching my bonus pack and a thumb drive harboring my electronic waypoints. I tried to
process the text file like I’ve done in the past, but I couldn’t get it to load. It was in a different format
than I was used to seeing, so I tried to modify the file a bit so S&T would recognize it, to no avail. I
tried opening the other two file types provided on the drive, but neither of them would open either.
Time was ticking by and I knew I was getting nowhere fast, but I’d already invested so much time in
trying to get the text file right that I just couldn’t give up. I figured once I got that file sorted out it
would be smooth sailing, and I knew I must be just a click or two away from getting it right. Twenty-
five minutes into our hour of free routing time I finally gave up on the electronic waypoints and
started inputting the bonii by hand. I tried to remember to save often, but I got on a roll for a while
there and apparently I forgot. I was reminded when my f*%king computer froze up. I’d had about
¾ of the bonii programmed in at the time of the crash, and I lost all but ten. By that time it was
about 7:15am, 15 minutes after we were officially allowed to leave, and I was still monkeying around
trying to make the waypoints viewable on a map. I had no idea whatsoever what the overview of the
base route looked like, let alone the Dog Bone or thread bonii options. I just couldn't sit around any
longer, so I decided to use the .gpx file to load the bonii into my GPSs as POIs. I had to return the
thumb drive, so I copied the files to my desktop before wrapping things up and headed for the
parking lot. I would aim towards the first bonus in the base route and try to formulate a plan on the
way. If worse came to worse, I would get to the first checkpoint early enough to plan a strong
second and third legs. It was almost 7:30am, but my rally was finally under way.
A few other guys were in the parking lot when I was gearing up, and they all seemed to have
experienced problems similar to mine. Alex Harper was there, and he mentioned that he used
MapSource to view the .gpx file. I had tried to open the .gpx file by double-clicking, but I hadn’t
tried opening MapSource and then opening the file. He said, “No, I just double-clicked on the file
and it opened right up.” Weird. (After the rally I checked out the files I had transferred to my
desktop. The .gpx file, which my computer had previously claimed could not be opened with any
program known to mankind, popped up with a shiny new MapSource logo after it was copied to my
desktop. Upon clicking, it happily opened the full bonii list without a moment’s hesitation. Dag.
Nab. It. While making a route map for this story, I saved the .gpx file on a thumb drive. Even
though I created the file in MapSource, it did not show the MapSource logo and would not open until
I jumped through a bunch of hoops to convince it that MapSource was the program for the job.
Interesting. Must investigate further.) Well, it was too late to do anything about it at that point. For
now, it was off the Bonus One.
When I arrived at the first bonus at Petaluma Adobe State Park, I found
half a dozen bikes parked in a small cul-de-sac next to a locked fence. It
looked like I was in for a little walk, so I decided to go ahead and plan
out the rest of my leg before I got off the bike. I wanted to see how
much extra time I’d have to stray off the base route, so I started by
compiling the base bonii waypoints into a route file. That lasted all of
about 12 seconds, until I realized that only around half of the waypoints
had survived the transfer into the GPS. How the hell did I screw that
up?!? It’s not as if I had to transfer them one at a time; you select an
entire file, and the POI Loader moves the contents of the file, in its
entirety, to the GPS. I’ve always thought it was an all-or-nothing type of
affair, but clearly I stood corrected. I had to manually enter many of the
first leg waypoints, and by the time I was done I was looking at a route
that would take me just about to the opening of the first checkpoint.
half a dozen bikes parked in a small cul-de-sac next to a locked fence. It
looked like I was in for a little walk, so I decided to go ahead and plan
out the rest of my leg before I got off the bike. I wanted to see how
much extra time I’d have to stray off the base route, so I started by
compiling the base bonii waypoints into a route file. That lasted all of
about 12 seconds, until I realized that only around half of the waypoints
had survived the transfer into the GPS. How the hell did I screw that
up?!? It’s not as if I had to transfer them one at a time; you select an
entire file, and the POI Loader moves the contents of the file, in its
entirety, to the GPS. I’ve always thought it was an all-or-nothing type of
affair, but clearly I stood corrected. I had to manually enter many of the
first leg waypoints, and by the time I was done I was looking at a route
that would take me just about to the opening of the first checkpoint.
Hmmm. Not a lot of wiggle room there, I’m afraid. I decided I would just stick it out on the base
route, knock out some miles, and pull up the MapSource file for some strategizing at the checkpoint.
As I was finishing up my route, a white jeep pulled up next to me. The driver, smartly dressed in his
little park ranger get-up, gave me a bit of the stink eye and told me I would have to move out of his
way so he could get into the park. I smiled sweetly and rolled off to the side of the drive. He let
himself through the fence, chatting with Matt Pflugh for a minute on the way in. When I got off the
bike to start my walk, I noticed that the gate had been left open. Matt saw me eyeballing the open
road and said, “He told me he wouldn’t let anyone in until 10am.” More than an hour from now.
“And to make things worse,” he continued, “I walked all the way in there before I realized I’d
forgotten my flag.” Ooh, that hurts. I looked from Matt to the gate and back to Matt. “So he told
you not to go in until 10am, right? I didn’t hear him say that. I’m going for it.” I hopped on my bike
and drove into the park as if I belonged there. There were a few guys walking back out from the park
who seemed amused by my attempt to circumvent the ranger, and they pointed me in the direction of
the marker I needed to photograph. I quickly found the marker and ran over to grab my picture. The
ranger came speeding by as I hot-footed it back to my bike and he slowed down just enough for me to
hear that vein throbbing in his forehead before speeding off, presumably to lock the front gate. Matt
was making his way back into the park on foot as I made my exit, so I wished him well and hurried to
get back on public roads before I found myself trapped in the park for the next hour.
route, knock out some miles, and pull up the MapSource file for some strategizing at the checkpoint.
As I was finishing up my route, a white jeep pulled up next to me. The driver, smartly dressed in his
little park ranger get-up, gave me a bit of the stink eye and told me I would have to move out of his
way so he could get into the park. I smiled sweetly and rolled off to the side of the drive. He let
himself through the fence, chatting with Matt Pflugh for a minute on the way in. When I got off the
bike to start my walk, I noticed that the gate had been left open. Matt saw me eyeballing the open
road and said, “He told me he wouldn’t let anyone in until 10am.” More than an hour from now.
“And to make things worse,” he continued, “I walked all the way in there before I realized I’d
forgotten my flag.” Ooh, that hurts. I looked from Matt to the gate and back to Matt. “So he told
you not to go in until 10am, right? I didn’t hear him say that. I’m going for it.” I hopped on my bike
and drove into the park as if I belonged there. There were a few guys walking back out from the park
who seemed amused by my attempt to circumvent the ranger, and they pointed me in the direction of
the marker I needed to photograph. I quickly found the marker and ran over to grab my picture. The
ranger came speeding by as I hot-footed it back to my bike and he slowed down just enough for me to
hear that vein throbbing in his forehead before speeding off, presumably to lock the front gate. Matt
was making his way back into the park on foot as I made my exit, so I wished him well and hurried to
get back on public roads before I found myself trapped in the park for the next hour.
passed me, but I just couldn’t get in the zone. By the time I reached the Stewart’s Point General
Store, Matt had already obtained the requisite receipt and was getting ready to split. The PCH is
familiar territory, so after snagging my receipt I was able to make up a little time. I pulled into the
bonus at the Druid’s Hall just behind Matt. Back on the road, we were both eyeballing the coast for
a place to pick up the Super Mega Secret Bonus. Before long we came across Van Damme State
Park and spied all of the necessary elements we would need to pocket a cool 1,000 points. I jogged
down to some kind-looking folks in swimming attire and pled my case. The required composition of
the picture was fairly specific, so I yanked my boots off and tossed my camera to Matt. He captured
me holding my flag, standing knee-deep in the water next to a stranger, with people (and, in my case,
two dogs) dressed in such a way as to indicate the intent to swim. Piece of cake. I returned the
favor for Matt, and before long we were dryish, virtually sand-free, and back on the road.
Store, Matt had already obtained the requisite receipt and was getting ready to split. The PCH is
familiar territory, so after snagging my receipt I was able to make up a little time. I pulled into the
bonus at the Druid’s Hall just behind Matt. Back on the road, we were both eyeballing the coast for
a place to pick up the Super Mega Secret Bonus. Before long we came across Van Damme State
Park and spied all of the necessary elements we would need to pocket a cool 1,000 points. I jogged
down to some kind-looking folks in swimming attire and pled my case. The required composition of
the picture was fairly specific, so I yanked my boots off and tossed my camera to Matt. He captured
me holding my flag, standing knee-deep in the water next to a stranger, with people (and, in my case,
two dogs) dressed in such a way as to indicate the intent to swim. Piece of cake. I returned the
favor for Matt, and before long we were dryish, virtually sand-free, and back on the road.
With a little sleuth work I found the
correct visitor’s center at Point
Cabrillo Historic Park and grabbed
my picture. I’d been without cell
reception most of the morning, so I
gave Mike a call as soon as I picked
up some bars outside of Fort Bragg.
Luckily my SPOT was seeing fit to
track properly, so as long as he could
see me moving he wasn't too
worried. We chatted for a few
minutes while I fuelled up, then I let
him go when I pulled back out on the
highway. I hadn’t been listening to
music or anything on the trip so far,
so it took me a while to realize I had
correct visitor’s center at Point
Cabrillo Historic Park and grabbed
my picture. I’d been without cell
reception most of the morning, so I
gave Mike a call as soon as I picked
up some bars outside of Fort Bragg.
Luckily my SPOT was seeing fit to
track properly, so as long as he could
see me moving he wasn't too
worried. We chatted for a few
minutes while I fuelled up, then I let
him go when I pulled back out on the
highway. I hadn’t been listening to
music or anything on the trip so far,
so it took me a while to realize I had
lost audio. It happens from time to time, so I flipped my amp off and on, and when that didn’t work I
restarted the Zumo. That fixed the problem, so I figured it was just a hiccup. When I lost audio again
after my next phone call, I realized that the problem was related to my phone connectivity issue. It
seems that my phone wasn’t completely disconnecting when the other person hung up, and since the
phone wasn’t properly connected to the Zumo I didn’t have any of the control buttons I needed to
end a call from my side. What I had to do to maintain audio for the rest of the trip was navigate
through to the Zumo’s Bluetooth controls, drop the phone, then reconnect again.
restarted the Zumo. That fixed the problem, so I figured it was just a hiccup. When I lost audio again
after my next phone call, I realized that the problem was related to my phone connectivity issue. It
seems that my phone wasn’t completely disconnecting when the other person hung up, and since the
phone wasn’t properly connected to the Zumo I didn’t have any of the control buttons I needed to
end a call from my side. What I had to do to maintain audio for the rest of the trip was navigate
through to the Zumo’s Bluetooth controls, drop the phone, then reconnect again.
My slow progress across Stewart’s Point Road, plus my swim
break, together with the normal time spent procuring bonii,
had steadily chipped away at my time cushion around the first
checkpoint. I’d been keeping a faster pace through the
redwoods until I got stuck in the slow parade of rental RVs.
My original plan had me arriving at the checkpoint shortly
before it opened, but by the time I photographed my bike in
the Chandelier Drive-Through Tree it was evident that I was
going to have to drop some bonii if I was going to make it to
the checkpoint before it closed. The points for this drive-
break, together with the normal time spent procuring bonii,
had steadily chipped away at my time cushion around the first
checkpoint. I’d been keeping a faster pace through the
redwoods until I got stuck in the slow parade of rental RVs.
My original plan had me arriving at the checkpoint shortly
before it opened, but by the time I photographed my bike in
the Chandelier Drive-Through Tree it was evident that I was
going to have to drop some bonii if I was going to make it to
the checkpoint before it closed. The points for this drive-
My second bonus at the General Store
(established in 1881) was a breeze, so I
headed to Stewart’s Point Road and began
winding my way to the third bonii of the
morning. This road is a bit on the twisty
side, and I just couldn’t seem to find my
groove. After I’d repaired my fuel cell leak
I’d left the tank about half full, just in case
the fix didn’t hold. My tank is well baffled,
so it was quite possibly just psychosomatic,
but all my corners felt just a hair off from
fully controlled. And that was before taking
the gravel, run-off, and oncoming traffic into
consideration. Matt caught up with me, then
(established in 1881) was a breeze, so I
headed to Stewart’s Point Road and began
winding my way to the third bonii of the
morning. This road is a bit on the twisty
side, and I just couldn’t seem to find my
groove. After I’d repaired my fuel cell leak
I’d left the tank about half full, just in case
the fix didn’t hold. My tank is well baffled,
so it was quite possibly just psychosomatic,
but all my corners felt just a hair off from
fully controlled. And that was before taking
the gravel, run-off, and oncoming traffic into
consideration. Matt caught up with me, then
through tree were linked to a second tree, so
I had to pick up the Meyer’s Flat tree or this stop would just
be wasted time. On the way to Meyer’s I made a quick stop
at the Benbow Inn to count windows. Hundreds of
windows. Even considering we only had to count the panes
on the second and third stories, it was still a daunting task.
Minutes were ticking away. Matt pulled up around the same
time and we tried hard to stay focused, but we both kept
going cross-eyed after a few hundred. My brain just wouldn't
cooperate, and I had to keep moving or I was seriously risking
missing the checkpoint window. I gave it my best guess at
316 panes (which incidentally was under the actual total by
more than 100) and hit the road. I picked up the Hobbit Trail
bonus and made quick work of the Meyer’s Tree, then gritted
my teeth and passed right by several more bonii on my beeline
to the checkpoint. Somewhere along the way it occurred to
me that I should have taken a picture of the Inn so I could
count the panes later when I wasn’t under such time
constraints. Oh, well. Live and learn.
I had to pick up the Meyer’s Flat tree or this stop would just
be wasted time. On the way to Meyer’s I made a quick stop
at the Benbow Inn to count windows. Hundreds of
windows. Even considering we only had to count the panes
on the second and third stories, it was still a daunting task.
Minutes were ticking away. Matt pulled up around the same
time and we tried hard to stay focused, but we both kept
going cross-eyed after a few hundred. My brain just wouldn't
cooperate, and I had to keep moving or I was seriously risking
missing the checkpoint window. I gave it my best guess at
316 panes (which incidentally was under the actual total by
more than 100) and hit the road. I picked up the Hobbit Trail
bonus and made quick work of the Meyer’s Tree, then gritted
my teeth and passed right by several more bonii on my beeline
to the checkpoint. Somewhere along the way it occurred to
me that I should have taken a picture of the Inn so I could
count the panes later when I wasn’t under such time
constraints. Oh, well. Live and learn.
I tried to make a quick phone call on my way into Eureka, but I got their voicemail. I went through
the steps to disconnect the Bluetooth, but when I reconnected my phone a minute later it was still
connected to the voicemail message. I tried every trick in the book, but I could not get the phone to
disconnect. I ended up having to find my way into the checkpoint without any audio instructions. I
reached the checkpoint with about 10 minutes to spare, and was finally able to restore audio by
restarting my phone. That was a bit more of a pain in the butt than I wanted to deal with, so I kept
my phone calls to a minimum for the rest of the rally. I no longer had time to bring my big Leg Two
Rebound Plan to fruition, so I settled for choking down a nutrition bar while I programmed in the
basic bonii through the second checkpoint. I was increasingly disappointed in my performance in the
rally, but considering how close I’d just come to being time barred I was happy to still be in the
game. There were a few bonii in rapid succession – the fishermen’s memorial and the Friend of the
Dunes building – and the World’s Tallest Totem Pole was just a short hop to the north.
the steps to disconnect the Bluetooth, but when I reconnected my phone a minute later it was still
connected to the voicemail message. I tried every trick in the book, but I could not get the phone to
disconnect. I ended up having to find my way into the checkpoint without any audio instructions. I
reached the checkpoint with about 10 minutes to spare, and was finally able to restore audio by
restarting my phone. That was a bit more of a pain in the butt than I wanted to deal with, so I kept
my phone calls to a minimum for the rest of the rally. I no longer had time to bring my big Leg Two
Rebound Plan to fruition, so I settled for choking down a nutrition bar while I programmed in the
basic bonii through the second checkpoint. I was increasingly disappointed in my performance in the
rally, but considering how close I’d just come to being time barred I was happy to still be in the
game. There were a few bonii in rapid succession – the fishermen’s memorial and the Friend of the
Dunes building – and the World’s Tallest Totem Pole was just a short hop to the north.
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