Back in April of 2014, a motorcyclist set across the US with a goal: To set the coast-to-coast speed record. He set that record, and now he’s published a book about the escapade.
The rider, who goes by the name of Axe, took a BMW S1000RR from the Pacific to the Atlantic in 33 hours and 10 minutes. He says he did it without the help of spotter planes or substitute riders, or the help of a last name. Or maybe Axe is short for Axe Cop?
Now, Axe has a book out about his adventures, titled No Limits, No Regrets. You can buy it on Amazon, and see an excerpt below.
Sat 10 Sep 11
I have to get the S1K back home from Colorado somehow, but some people might say that a straight drive from Ft. Collins to San Antonio on a motorcycle like this is a stupid way to do it. If I had clear thought processes, I might agree with them. However, my brain is at the mercy of the adrenaline junkie inside me that is controlling the 190 horsepower machine catapulting me through the night on deserted blacktops. With the throttle lock keeping the S1K at around 105 mph, the time to react if an obstacle presents itself is far from sufficient when overdriving the headlights this badly. I’m still seeing burst speeds as fast as I can when I can as there just aren’t many other cars on the road. If lights coming over the horizon are orange first, I know it’s a semi, and I can continue hauling ass. White lights showing first means it’s a passenger car, and I have to assume it’s a patrol car. That’s my first check, and the V1 is an added precaution and necessary for this type of driving. It doesn’t matter if I’m risking anyone’s safety but my own, the wrong officer would lock me in a cell and melt the key. A potential police car means that I slow down and keep an eye directly on the V1, not just on the H.A.R.D. LED alert system mounted in my helmet. Since I have to switch to low beams when a car is approaching from the opposite lane, I have to drop speed anyway as the lit distance is even worse than on the high beam setting. This process has saved me twice in a short time now. I’ve slowed down per protocol when switching to low beams for an approaching car. On two occasions, the cars were cops. As they gunned me just before meeting on the road, my V1 and H.A.R.D. helmet system both started flashing red lights. I know that they could see it from their cruiser, but I wasn’t speeding at the time, so my strategy is working so far. I’d rather see flashing red on my vehicle than theirs.
Animals on the other hand are a different story. At three digits and more, I’m overdriving the headlights horribly. Now, let’s add the fact that I’ve had a half hour nap at most since six AM yesterday. It’s after midnight now, and I’m using every bit of remaining brain power to try to focus on the road and shoulders for eyes shining back at me from the woodland death traps. I’ve already torn by them standing on the shoulder several times, and a few hours ago, I saw a deer carcass on the road. He was close enough to the shoulder not to be a speed bump for me riding Pac-Man style in the middle, but it made me realize dead ones can be as much of a threat as live ones. A dead one can’t jump into your way, but it can’t jump out of your way either.
What the hell was that? I let off the throttle and back down from about 120 mph after the obstacle is far in the distance behind me. I’m pretty sure that was a dead raccoon that I just passed. The scary part is that the furry corpse wasn’t lying even a foot from where I drove by it. Had I been driving just a few inches to the left at that speed, I would never have reacted in time. I’d be lying out here like road kill too. On such a desolate highway at this time of the night, I don’t know that anyone would even find me. I’d probably just lie here and bleed. It was a warning shot that showed me just how clear it is that these speeds and lighting conditions require an absolute clear path, or it’s game over. Instead of worrying about what could’ve happened, I need to focus on making sure it doesn’t happen. Much like in life, watching the rearview mirror only prevents you from seeing the road ahead. Once I catch my breath, I slowly wick up the throttle to get back to the speeds necessary to get me home as soon as possible. Since I won’t be able to react sufficiently at anything over a turtle’s pace, I might as well fly the rest of the way. If something’s in my way, there’s nothing that I’ll be able to do about it anyway.
It’s 2:03 AM. If I left Colorado at about nine-thirty AM Texas time, that means that it took me about sixteen and a half hours to make the thousand mile drive. I’ll do the math later, but it’s better than the eighteen plus hours that it took me to drive out there from here. The S1K gets really good mileage, but there are some desolate areas, so gas stops were every hundred and some miles to be safe, but they seriously hurt the average speed. I didn’t even take my helmet off or piss for some of those stops. At any rate, after a thousand miles on this thing, I’m pushing it in the garage before I try to sneak into bed without waking Sunshine or Baron. Tomorrow, we can all enjoy a nice day back together again, but right now, I’m beyond drained.
