Magic spud and more tales from the road of 30K for MDA Harley rider

October 13, 12:41 PMMotorcycle ExaminerKen Bingenheimer

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Bad weather was a frequent companion on Jim Campbell's journey

Jim Campbell can probably sing every song on the "Bob Seeger's Greatest Hits" CD backwards. It was the only CD he played on his 2008 Harley-Davidson Screamin' Eagle Ultra Classic during his 30-day, 30,000-mile ride for muscular dystrophy, which he completed around noon on Sunday. (Here are the particulars of the ride.)

There's no way you can ride that many miles in that amount of time without picking up a number of stories. I presented several of them yesterday; here are some more. For more photos of the trip, see the slideshow at the bottom of this page.

The magic spud/My longest day

No one tells Jim's stories better than he does, so here is this story in his own words.

I had been stopped the night before by a large supercell thunder storm, and stayed the night in Sidney, NE. When I went to leave at 5 a.m. the cell had only grown to the east, my direction of route. I decided to head south and run my route backwards.

So south to Colorado I went. Down I-76 to Denver the rain was constant, but not heavy . . . yet. By the time I hit Denver it was pouring, and I had to stop at Bass Pro for some extra clothing. After adding two more layers and some rain boots I was off. Still rain, but now with warm, dry clothes.

Warm, dry clothes, that was, until it started snowing in Castle Rock, and continued till Colorado Springs. When I reached Pueblo I pulled in to a friend's business, Craig Bowman's, aka Hog, where he told me I looked like crap, and to take my wet stuff off and throw it in a dryer he had there. For an hour we talked of my trip and he said to just rest a day and start tomorrow again.

 Self-portrait day 9

It's hard for guys to express concern without being feminine; he did a good job that day. In the middle of the whole show he ask if I had eaten that day, and I said no, just some rain, and snow mistakenly. He offered me a baked potato he had for his lunch. I don't know if it was the gesture, the potato, or the sentiment behind it, but after eating it I sprang up, threw on my dry clothes, and drove through the toughest weather day of the entire ride, Hail at Raton Pass. Seventy mile per hour winds in Clayton, NM. A dust storm from Amarillo to Abilene. And a driving rain storm from Abilene through the hill country to Austin. (See all these pics and videos on FaceBook.)

I finally arrived in Austin at 3 a.m. the next morning (1,154 miles in weather), crediting it all to the "magic spud" Hog had given me 14 hours earlier.

What it was about

Everywhere he went, Jim was welcomed by people who were fascinated with what he was doing and wanting to know everything about the trip.

At a coffee shop he spoke with two women and told them he was raising money for muscular dystrophy research. That's great, they said, and one told him her granddaughter had just been diagnosed with the disease. That woman sat quietly while Jim and the other woman discussed his ride. As he prepared to head out the grandmother gave him a check, telling him to do some good with it.

Then she spoke wistfully, saying "Wouldn't it be something if the money you raised cured my granddaughter."

Jim replied that if it wasn't the money he raised it would be the small donations of others like her. It wouldn't be the big donations, but the money given by small donors every day. Then he rode on.

Who's saving who?

Again, these are Jim's words.

Coming across utah at 2 a.m., on what then was going to be my best daily mileage (1,254 miles) I was about 17 miles from Green River, a gas oasis in the middle of the night. I passed a vehicle on the side of the road, and it seemed they were pushing their van.

I just kept riding. I thought they were closer to Green River than they actually were. After I topped a ridge I realized they were at least 10 miles away, as I couldn't even see lights from Green River. So I turned around in the median and headed back.

Upon reaching the van I found a family in the middle of moving from California to Colorado in search of work. The van was packed with personal items, and barely room for the family members, who were at this time all out pushing towards the next gas stop.

The brother of the man driving said to me, "My brother didn't want to stop. He said we would make it to the next gas stop."

I commented, "I see how that worked out for you."

I had carried a 1.5-gallon gas can for emergencies for 18,000 miles and never used it. I figured it was time. We poured the gas in the tank and still it wouldn't start, so I told them I needed gas and would be back with another tank. So 17 miles later at Green River I filled up and headed back. Time was not a problem, and at 2 a.m. Utah is pretty much the autobahn to me, 100 mph plus as long as you can hold on.

So I return to the van, and they're still pushing. I put the other 1.5 gallons in but still no starting. UHG. So back again to Green River, fill up and away I go. Third time back at the van, pour gas in again now, 4.5 gallons, and the van starts. They tried to give me $15 but I refused. They said take it for MDA. I still refused. These people needed it more then any charity, in fact it looked as though they could use some help. It wasn't much but I gave them a Shell gas card I figured would get them to Denver, where they were headed.
I followed them to the gas stop, as I needed gas after all this. Each family member came out of the van and thanked me personally. Though down on their luck they were very gracious.

You wonder how one instance changes your whole life forward, and I would come to realize this 4 hours later.

Coming back through Colorado there are many mountain passes, and conditions vary from pass to pass. It was still dark and I had flown quickly over all the Colorado passes, and gone through Gunnison and headed toward Monarch Pass. Up the pass I was full throttle through the curves--You've gotta love those curves. Anyway I'm getting close to the top, and because I was held up an hour and a half the sun is peeking over the horizon, so I thought I'd stop at the top and take a picture instead of roaring over the top and down into the next set of curves.

As I slow for the top I see the road is wet, like it rained, but no storm clouds. ????? As I slowed to a stop I saw it was ice. The whole road had a sheet of ice on it from an upslope front that had backed up on just the east side of the mountain. If I had rolled over the pass an hour earlier at the speed I had carried up the pass I would have never made the first turn, and ended up over the edge hundreds of feet down . . . END OF STORY.

You see in my mind I wasn't in Utah to save those people, they were put there to save me.

**********************

Jim has a lot more stories but we'll end here. He's hoping to write a book about his ride and if that comes about I'll definitely be announcing it here. In the meantime, anyone wishing to add their contribution to the approximately $20,000 Jim has already raised for the Muscular Dystrophy Association can do so at his FaceBook page.

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