Sturgis . . Ah Sturgis, there’s nothing quite like it.
Sturgis seems to have that special something.
Maybe it’s partly due to the very friendly barmaids.
Partly the fact that the high energy generated there during the rally helps make it a unique experience.
And no doubt the mischievous fun spirit the atmosphere brings out also adds to the mix.
As does the plentiful eye candy.
And the attractions of Main Street by day or night seem to bring out every man and his dog. Though the dogs aren’t always happy about hanging out in Main.
Oh, I almost forgot – they have bike shows there too!
And the occasional sensational Brouhaha . . .
Billy and I rose early on day four of our ride up to Sturgis and headed down to breakfast. The weather looked good, neither of our bikes had been stolen and we’d both enjoyed a good night’s sleep once we had sorted out our room hassles. Walking outside, and despite the fact that Sturgis was still 250 miles away, in my imagination I fancied I could hear the roar of Harley thunder drifting down from Main Street and the roar of bikers enjoying themselves in one of the many bars. Still, each day we’d encountered a problem of some sort so there was a mildly ominous undertone in my thinking as we set out in what began as a clear but chilly morning.
But there’s something about the big skies of Wyoming and the wide open countryside that makes riding through that state enjoyable, whether the roads be curvy . . .
. . . or straight, virtually to the horizon.
Along the way we ran into a detour or two which gave me a chance to see how the ’48 Flattie handled the dirt. The verdict: Fine. Well the bike went fine though Billy left the seat once or twice as he hit the deeper potholes. Rigid frame, no seat padding to speak of – you have to admire the guy. He genuinely and truly loves that bike and loves riding it. I guess I must be too old and too soft . . . I mentioned it before, but everywhere we stopped people gathered around that old bike. At one stop two good ol’ boys from Louisiana walked over and gave it a good eyeballing. Then one of them spat some baccy and drawled a sentence destined to become a classic: “Man, that thang’s cooler ‘n sheeit!”
After a few hours of great riding we finally hit the outskirts of the Black Hills and I thought we were home and hosed, a hassle-free day at last!
But that was not quite the plan of the biker gods. Uh, uh, someone who dares to ride a 60-year-old bike a couple of thousand miles through scorching deserts, over steep mountain passes and across vast areas of grasslands is not going to be let off quite that easily. No way Jose!
Not long after this picture was taken we caught up with the group of riders you can just see up front and therein lay the problem. Several of them were girls. This is not the beginning of a misogynous rant against female bikers, it’s a rant against people who shouldn’t be riding in a group because of inadequate skill levels. Several of these females were manifestly inadequate in cornering ability, so to protect them their fellas rode shotgun, blocking us from passing. This wasn’t too bad on the flats, but through the canyons it put Billy in a situation where his bike was lugging quite a bit and he couldn’t get into a comfortable speed/rev range. So by the time we rode onto Lascelle Street he had blown a head gasket. The biker gods had done it again. But we arrived and fixing a head gasket on a Flattie is a walk in the park.
But all’s well that ends well they say. Billy was reunited with his lovely girlfriend Amy and reckons that 2008 was the most enjoyable Sturgis Rally he has ever had, partly due to the great ride up, and partly due to the fact that he had very few official duties to attend to. Oh, yeah, no doubt Amy contributed too . . .
As for me, with no girlfriend in town to make me welcome, I had a pretty lonely time of it as you can see.
The ride up with Billy astride his ’48 Flattie was great for me in so many ways, obviously the chance to get to know Billy Lane was – for an Aussie bike journo – pretty damn special. Plus keeping company with the ’48 Flathead took me back to the days of biking when breakdowns or problems were the norm, rather than the exception.
I’m not one to dwell on the past, as far as I’m concerned, THESE are the good old days. But we take for granted the fact that we can press a button, the bike will start and it will get us there, whether there be 100 miles or 10,000 miles and somehow that’s taken some of the fun out of it. And not only did I gain the benefits I’ve just outlined, but . . .
. . . by following behind Billy I got a free rust proofing!
Sturgis has once again come and gone for another year. But it’s coming up again so be ready for it in 2009. Hope to see ya there. For any of you out there who thought it was foolish for Billy to ride his ol’ Flattie all that way, I have just three words of advice for you: Read the sign.
