Roadhouse Report, July 1997

A Conversation with Dave Barr: Roadhouse Report, July 1997 - by James Yaney

His journey as a motorcyclist began when he lost his legs. The date was August 29, 1981. He was 29 years old.

While riding in a military vehicle in southern Angola, he drove over a land mine and the resulting explosion cost him both of his legs, above the knee on the right and below the knee on the left.

Back home in California, the idea to motorcycle around the world first took hold when he ventured out for the first time on his 1972 Harley-Davidson with his new "man-made" legs. Wobbly at first, then slowly gaining control, he roared out of the parking lot and into the Southern California traffic. Smiling, he knew he could still ride. Wanting to do something for the people who had helped him throughout his life and to help the disabled around the world, he dreamed of riding a motorcycle around the world. A journey to raise awareness for all disabled people to show that "disabled" does not mean "unable". After years of searching for sponsors and working various jobs, his chance came.

He began the journey on September 12, 1990. Setting out on his 18-year-old Harley-Davidson motorcycle with 150,000 miles on it, he rode into history.

Three and a half years and 83,000 miles later, he became the first motorcyclist/double amputee to circle the globe north-south and east-west. In his book, "Riding the Edge", he detailed the odyssey, from the long, lonely nights in the jungle, the burning heat of the desert, and the desolation and dehumanizing cold of the arctic. The journey ended in Hong Kong. The date was May 10, 1994.

Back in the U.S., he began planning his next adventure, one that even his sponsors would shrink away from. An idea so insane that the press and media would dismiss it as a stunt, a crude prank.

Dave would motorcycle across Siberia in the dead of winter.

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The first order of business was to find sponsors and then to surmount the endless bureaucratic stream of paperwork, visas, and entry forms required to cross nine countries and two continents.

He contacted his main supporter from his around-the-world venture, Mr. Wirtgen, owner of the worldwide construction company bearing his name. The second man was Ivan Ksenofontov, editor of the Russian motorcycle magazine, "MOTO". Wirtgen would take care of logistics and Ksenofontov would arrange passage and press coverage across Russia.

Finally, his motorcycle had to be made ready. Looking at his old, battered friend peacefully leaning in the corner of his garage, he knew his trusted machine could not make the trip.

He turned to his friends at Lancaster Harley-Davidson in California. Scotty and his staff realized the importance and coverage that this trip would represent, not just to the motorcycling community, but to people from all walks of life. They helped Dave obtain a 1996 883cc Harley-Davidson Sportster and make the necessary modifications to the machine so it would function in abnormal conditions.

"The first thing we did was to replace the Kevlar drive belt. The ice crystals and dirt from Siberia would rip it to pieces, so we replaced it with a chain drive. Next we welded steel saddlebags to the frame to carry gasoline and provisions, two things you can't do without in Russia. Finally, we made a rack to hold my tent and some other items. The bike was ready."

December 1, 1996, Dave and his bike arrived in Germany and were met by Tigger, one of his many friends from around the globe that had helped him on his world trip. After clearing customs and touching base with Wirtgen, Dave and Tigger rode through Belgium towards Paris. Contacting Guinness Book of World Records in London, he made the final preparations to begin.

On December 8, 1996, he rode to the most northwestern corner of France and stepped into the Atlantic Ocean (required by Guinness), looked eastward and contemplated the 9,800 miles he must cross to get to the Pacific.

"I thought of my father (he had passed away during Dave's world trip) and of my mother. I thought of the well-wishers and prayers of all the disabled I had met, and that I must not let them down. Finally, I prayed for strength and guidance from God."

Mounting his motorcycle, Dave roared away towards Poland. The snow and trouble began immediately. The snow increased as he approached the border; however, flat tires kept slowing his progress.

"I had placed studs in the tires to gain traction in the snow and ice, but they kept puncturing the tires. So I had to stop every few miles and pump them up or replace the tubes. The tires I had chosen for this trip proved early on not to be reliable (Dave would not identify the brand), so I switched to a European brand and the problem almost disappeared."

Arriving in Warsaw, Dave went to the Warsaw Harley-Davidson dealership and met Ivan. While there, as with all of his other stops, he gave interviews and speeches to various groups for charity and for the disabled.

With his visas and entry papers in hand, Dave motored on eastward into Russia, crossing the border in a snow storm. At Minsk, he had a sidecar welded to his motorcycle. The sidecar was donated by the Ural Motorcycle Company, which also invited him to stop at their factory on his way across Russia.

"The people in Minsk, like other Russia cities, were very poor and hard-working. A shop in the town did the welding for me and let me stay there at no charge. When I offered money, they just waved it away, offering their friendship instead. Of all places in the world, Russia is the country of the big heart. The people there are truly kind and generous. I cannot say enough about their goodness."

Christmas Day, 1996, Dave left for Moscow. The temperature was -15 degrees with a blowing wind. The roads were fairly good and he arrived in Moscow on the evening of the 26th, a distance of about 500 miles. That night the temperature dropped to -27.

"The motorcycle was running badly due to the poor quality of the Russian gasoline. The sidecar made driving difficult, due to its weight and configuration. Near Moscow, I nearly hit a Russian tank head-on in a snow storm, the visibility and road conditions were terrible. And the Russians drive like madmen."

In Moscow, Dave had a steel plate welded on the front cylinder of the engine to reduce the freezing air hitting the engine and to prevent freezing of the oil.

"I replaced the transmission oil with automobile transmission fluid so it would flow better and lubricate the gears without the fear of freezing, and I replaced the engine oil with Havoline 5w40. The polar winds blow across Siberia, pushing the temperatures into Arctic extremes, and an engine that won't start could prove fatal."

"I left Moscow on January 14. The temperature was zero and the snow was heavy. I rode towards the Ural Mountains, sleeping in forests at night. If the side roads to the forests were too drifted with snow, I would stay at police stations. Thanks to Ivan and "MOTO", I was well-received at each stop."

Crossing into the Ural Mountains proved to be more difficult than Dave had planned. The roads were narrow and the sharp curves were dangerous. At one point, he crashed on an icy curve that sent him one way and the motorcycle another.

"I had a crash in the Urals one morning. The bike made a complete flip in the air, landing in a snow bank. I was unhurt, but the sidecar and a shock absorber were badly damaged. At a nearby village, a mechanic made a shock absorber by hand out of scrap and repaired the sidecar using nothing but basic tools. He would not accept any money."

Dave completed his crossing of the Urals on January 19th, then motorcycled into the Ural Motorcycle factory to have the sidecar properly repaired. He spent five days there, giving speeches and interviews and attended a motorcycle race.

"The Russians had a motorcycle racetrack nearby and I went to see the event. The temperature was about -10 degrees and here were all of these people watching these motorcycles with small platforms attached to them, racing around this oval, going over jumps and around turns. I asked if I could ride along on one of the platforms (second man position) and they said yes. So, there I was on a freezing Sunday afternoon racing around this frozen track, going over these huge jumps, with people screaming and clapping. It's a thrill I'll never forget."

On January 24, Dave entered western Siberia and began the long, lonely trek across the vast wasteland. The roads were completely covered with ice and were extremely treacherous.

"The landscape was mainly flat, which proved to be helpful. The winds blew constantly and there wasn't much vegetation, the snow would blow around, but not drift too badly. The roads were thick with a sort of black, mud-like ice that required absolute concentration 100 percent of the time. I would complete the rest of the trip entirely on ice, 6,000 miles of it."

"At night I would cook in the sidecar. My meals consisted mostly of oats, potatoes, and Snickers bars. But my favorite "warm up" meal was salami dipped in melted hog fat. After eating it, you could lay back in the tent and feel the warmth radiate through your body."

"Some nights the oil would freeze up in the engine and had to be thawed out. In the morning, I would take my gasoline blowtorch and heat up the cylinders on the bike before starting it. Once I did not do this and almost damaged the engine."

Cycling through the Siberian "half-light", a combination of pre-dawn gray and evening twilight, made the journey more hazardous, because visibility was poor and deep ruts littered the path Dave took. The polar winds kept the temperature between -5 degrees in the daytime to -30 at night.

"I was suffering from frostbite on my nose and face. The wool stocking mask I wore over my face gave me good protection from the cold, as long as I breathed through it first and let the condensation freeze the front of it to provide a wind barrier for my face. I also had problems with the moisture from my eyes. It would freeze in the corners of my eyes. I had to be careful to keep the ice cleaned away or the crystals would scratch my eyes every time I blinked. My electric gloves kept my hands warm the entire trip."

"One thing though, as I rode, ice crystals would form on the bottoms of my "man-made" feet. Sometimes they would form huge balls of ice weighing five to ten pounds. When this would happen, controlling the bike was very difficult, so I would stop from time to time, take out my five-pound sledgehammer and beat the ice off of my feet. When the Russians saw this, they would go crazy and start hollering."

In early March, Dave reached the Tiger Forest in Eastern Siberia. There he was met by two journalists who wanted to film the rest of the journey.

"In Eastern Siberia, there were no more roads, or what people called roads. The eastern half of the country was swamp and impassable, except in the wintertime. We rode over frozen rivers and streams heading east. From time to time, we were met by Chinese driving new Japanese cars bound for Russia. The beating those cars took on the frozen roads was incredible. The shortage of cars in Russia is critical and any car is treasured, even if it has a few dents and pieces missing."

On March 23, 1997, they finished the crossing of the great swamp and arrived at the Sea of Japan. The next day, Dave cycled the last hundred miles to the Pacific.

Riding his bike up to the edge of the water, he stepped off and into the Pacific Ocean. The date was March 24, 1997.

Dave and his bike were flown back to Moscow by the Russian military at the request of the Afghanistan Soldiers Group. After about a week of preparation, Dave was ready for his assault on the Arctic Circle. The ride to the top was in freezing and sometimes near white-out conditions.

"I reached the Arctic Circle, for the fourth time in my life, on April 11, and found a place on a hillside to sleep that night. The next morning, April 12th, I awoke to the most beautiful dawn I had ever witnessed. The sun reflected off of the ice fields, painting the sky in the most beautiful colors I had ever seen. The air was crystal clear. It was my birthday. I was 45 years old."

"From there, I motored on to Finland, then into Sweden, where I jettisoned the sidecar, and finally back into Germany. I went to England to meet with Guinness again to confirm the trip and then back to Germany to my sponsor's house to arrange the trip back home. When I pulled into his driveway, I realized the trip was over. Instead of satisfaction, I felt a strange let-down."

Dave indeed set a world's record. The journey was 13,000 miles, 6,000 of it on ice. He is the first man to cross Siberia on a motorcycle in winter, the first amputee to do the same, and the only American motorcyclist to complete the trip.

Back home in California, I asked Dave where he gets his drive, his constant motivation.

"I think each of us ..."

Dave began to sob quietly, softly at first, then a bit harder. After a few moments, he continued.

"I'm a practicing Christian. I believe in God. I believe that each of us has a purpose, a job, a destiny. And that He directs us. He uses our strong points and He simply set before me a task. And I knew that I was not alone."

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Dave Barr receives no pension or government grant. He is the founder of the Dave Barr Foundation, a worldwide organization for the disabled. Funds are generated through donations and from sales of his books and videos. All profits are distributed to help disabled people purchase limbs and medical supplies. All administrative costs are paid by Dave and not from gifts received.

If you would like an autographed book (500 page, softbound, with photos) or a videotape, send $23.00 ($30.00 outside the U.S.) to:
The Dave Barr Foundation
P.O. Box 8633
Bodfish, CA 93205

Author's note: Dave will be appearing at the following rallies - Sturgis, Four Corners, and the H.O.G. Rallies in Portland, Oregon, and Oklahoma City.

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