Last year at this time I was pretty much doing the same thing I am now. Working every day trying to balance the bills, the family, the gym, writing, and getting in the occasional joy ride rather than just commuting back and forth to and from work. I really had no idea I would be attending Sturgis in just over a month, but as most of you know, I did attend the 65th rally.
If you read my report on the run to the Badlands with El Bandito himself, you already know of the adventurous trip we had.
Between fighting off the opal pushers in Arizona, to dodging bone-shaking storms in Colorado, every day put an obstacle in our path that would turn into memories we could look back on and laugh about later.
In my Sturgis run report, I never really reported on what I actually experienced at the rally. Since many that read this site have been to Sturgis, a lot of this will remind you of your first trip and hopefully it will allow you to travel back in time and smile on the memories. For the unfortunate folks that have yet to take the opportunity to travel to Sturgis, let me paint a picture of what you can expect once you get there.
My report will be different from the others you have read, because I am in no way famous. I don’t write for the national magazines or build bikes for a living. I didn’t get to travel in the “known” groups and attend all the “in” parties. I am one of the unknowns. I was just a face in the crowd. This is a peek into my trip to Sturgis for the first time.
I left Bandit and the rest of the crew just inside Deadwood. I didn’t know where to go or what to do from there. He told me to just follow the signs and I would be fine. I had no idea where I would stay, my phone wasn’t getting a signal, and to top things off, my bank had cut off my account because I didn’t let them know I would be travelling. I found out later they did this for my “protection”, but I think it’s just another way they can fuck with you.
I followed the sign and rode in with Billy “Wheels” Marvin. He had rode with us from Arizona to Sturgis, this being his first trip as well.
Two virgins wandering into the darkness with no clue where to go.
Billy and I made our way through what seemed like 100 miles, but it actually turned out to be 19. Isn’t it funny how angst can multiply the unknown to make the future almost unbearable? We ended up on Lazelle St. and found a place to park the bikes behind one of the vendors. I remember it sounded like thunder because of the constant rumble of V-twins.
I would later find out the rumble doesn’t stop for two weeks, 24 hours a day in some parts. We just started wandering up the street as we didn’t even know where to start looking.
Sturgis is unlike any place on earth. I would later find out the rally is actually spread out between several towns. I would travel to Deadwood, Sturgis, Spearfish, and finally ended up riding the Black Hills. I also made a detour to Mt. Rushmore on my final morning, but that’s getting ahead of myself.
So here we are a couple of cherries walking down Lazelle getting bombarded with sensory overload. I was walking, Billy was in his wheelchair. It still amazes me how this guy was completely independent and required absolutely no extra attention or help to travel across the country on a motorcycle. He still inspires me to this day.
Everything, and I mean everything, you ever wanted for your bike is at Sturgis. I meandered through one vendor to the next just amazed at the shit I was seeing.
I approached the West Coast Choppers booth, and there’s Chopper Dave sitting on the couch bullshitting with some people. It was surreal to see these people who I had only seen in magazines just sitting around shooting the shit.
I ended up at Indian Larry’s booth with a great guy named Chase. He gave me a beer and I sat with him while he sold t-shirts for Larry’s guys.
While we were there, Billy started geeking over this old man walking up. Come to find out it was the famous Deacon, who builds kick ass motors and bikes out of Hawaii. I hadn’t even realized till then that Chase was his boy! These guys can do some amazing shit with their bikes and let me tell you, they are a couple of wildmen! It was a little funny to watch as some poor fool sat on Larry’s bike. Chase came unglued, screaming for the guy to get off. The poor guy looked like he was going to piss himself. I felt bad for the guy.
I ended up leaving Billy with them and unfortunately never saw him again at the rally. I was tired, broke, and I had no clue where I was going to stay. To tell you the truth, I was a little scared. I didn’t know shit about this area and I didn’t know what to do next. All I kept worrying about is where was I going to get the money to get something to drink and eat. God must’ve seen I was worrying, because he sent a rescue just as it was getting dark.
I had finally made my way to the Full Throttle and was spending the last of the cash in my pocket getting ass prints on my head from the beautiful Angie. If you don’t know Angie, get the fuck off your ass and find her. Anyway, I had just spent my last bucks on a beer and Angie gave me an ass print on my head when my phone rang!
I was happy to see it was my buddy from Houston, Mike. He had been at the rally for a day already and was worried when he hadn’t heard from me. My phone was breaking up badly and the only thing he got was that I was at the Full Throttle. The last thing I heard was he would be there in a half-hour. I finished my beer and watched a guy burn his tire until it popped in the burn out pit. Fucking crazy! As I left I saw a woman who could bounce her tits like a bodybuilder bounces his pecs. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. She had some big, fat, tits too! I decided to go to the parking lot and wait for Mike.
Walking through a parking lot at Sturgis is an amazing experience in and of itself. Just taking in all the bikes that are actually ridden and checking out the distance people traveled. Granted, there’s no real way to tell if they rode all the way or just trailered to the hotel, but it was still neat to see all the different license plates. The bikes in the parking lot would win most of the shows I have been to, but they are just the bikes people ride to The Mecca.
I didn’t care for this bike personally, but it was loud as hell.
My buddy Mike pulled into the parking lot and I was never so glad to see a friendly face in my life. He just smiled as I explained my predicament and how I was lost.
“I’ll buy you a beer,” was all he said. He had a shit-eating grin and just laughed, as I seemed more flustered than he had ever seen before.
We went back into the bar and had a couple of beers. It’s funny how I was panicked just a few minutes before but now didn’t seem to have a care in the world. All the problems just seemed to wash away as I felt myself letting go more and more. Before I knew it, I was having the time of my life without a care in the world. I guess it was the power of Sturgis, or maybe I was just fucked up. Mike did buy a few shots.
Mike’s old lady was staying back at their campsite and she was blowing his phone up!!! It didn’t matter that he was with a choirboy like myself, she didn’t trust him. I tell ya, it put a damper on the whole trip!
After a while we decided to leave and head to their campsite. Luckily they had found a woman in town who rented out her front yard. For $15 a night, you had a shower, toilet, and all the coffee you wanted. It was nice. I was so tired I could hardly put up my tent and woke up in the middle of the night wrapped in it like a plastic burrito. I didn’t care, I just wanted to go back to sleep. Just as I started to doze, I was woken up from the sounds of my buddy and his wife going at it. It sucked because I was alone; but then again I didn’t have to listen to any Bitchn either. You know, for a couple that was arguing just a few hours earlier, you couldn’t tell they were mad the way they were going at it. I finally just got up and went for a ride up the street.
Main Street was littered with everything from beer cans, bottles, trash, to people wandering the sidewalk. I couldn’t believe they were still out at 4 in the morning. It was eerie and cool all at the same time. I didn’t stay out very long, but did meet a man from Oklahoma who had spent his retirement money to buy a brand new H-D Ultra, and was traveling the U.S.A. He was having the time of his life and I started to resent him. That’s when he told me he actually resented me because he waited his whole life to go to Sturgis and I was already there at 31 years old. Hey, some guys have all the luck!
The next morning we woke up and went to the local high school for a pancake breakfast. I don’t remember exactly how much it cost, but it was less than ten bucks and you got a decent serving of eggs, bacon, and pancakes; good enough to start the day. We left after breakfast and rode out to the ’06 Harley unveiling. The bikes were beautiful and the crowd was intense. I don’t care what your motorcycle preference; you cannot deny the kick ass design of Harley Davidson. Shit, even their motorclothes are looking good. My buddy’s step-dad bought a normally $600 leather coat for $200. I wish I had a thousand bucks to blow in there because I guarantee everything was 50-70% off the normal price.
We left there and just rode the streets for a while. I wish I could tell you where exactly we went, but I was lost in the moment. My senses were blurred with the sheer amount of stuff to process. Normally I wave to people who I see riding, but this would be impossible in Sturgis. The trail of bikes coming and going is practically non-stop in every direction you look.
We eventually made it to Main Street to parade down the line. I enjoyed it, but my bike was getting hot. The line took too long to get through, so I only did the tour once. Pictures in magazines definitely don’t show the degree of heat you are dealing with when just waiting to go. I couldn’t believe the number of Fatboys, Heritage’s, and Road Kings I saw in Sturgis. I was glad I had the Apehangers and fucked up rattle can paintjob, otherwise I would have lost my bike LOTS of times. It is nice riding a new Harley, but it does suck when you see 200 of the exact same bike you are riding. Oh well, I guess if I wanted to be different, I could have built one from scratch. I did notice there were not too many kit choppers out and about, which surprised me. In Houston, they are everywhere and their riders’ look at Harley guys like, “Oh, you only ride a Harley.” I swear I want to shove my foot straight up their ass while pushing their fat-assed “custom” on top of them. I hate when people act like they are better than someone else.
We ate some grilled chicken for lunch and just walked around Main Street and Lazelle. About mid-afternoon we decided to go back to camp and get cleaned up before our nighttime activities. Because I had spent 6 days getting to Sturgis, I had to leave the next morning.
After a quick shower and a pretty intense game of quarters, we were ready to see the Sturgis nightlife. We ended up parking at the opposite end of Lazelle as the Full Throttle. We walked the strip making pit stops into each vendor and just window-shopping. The atmosphere was amazing as people from all over seemed hell-bent on nothing more than having a great time. Almost everyone we approached seemed to be smiling and having fun. For those not having fun, well they all gathered at The Knuckle Saloon. Here was where the action seemed to grow exponentially by the hour. Guys and gals signed up to fistfight. It was amazing and I had a ball. I did notice that many of the guys strutting through town trying to “act” tough seemed to walk right past this bar. Trust me, I know it’s easier to act tough than to actually be tough. I have the crooked nose to prove it.
We ended up at another bar named One-Eyed Jacks later and just had a blast. Drinking wasn’t all that happened either. It was just a fun party laughing and talking with all these people. I swear it was biker heaven. As it got later, the party seemed to grow. We went right along with it. The crowd seemed to flow like the tides; some had high tide, while others had low tide. We tried to go with the flow. We did travel through the Broken Spoke, Stroker’s, Easyrider’s, and finally back to Lazelle. It was a whirlwind of fun amplified by open pipes, laughter, beer, whiskey, and sometimes a little pot. Not only could you see the party, but also you could hear it, smell it, and even taste the fun.
I awoke the next day wrapped up in my tent again. I don’t even remember the last part of the night, but Mike and his wife said I had a great time dancing on a few tables. Supposedly I helped some young kid who had let his alligator mouth overrun his canary ass and he was getting stomped. Mike said I surprised everyone by breaking the whole mess up and getting the kid out of there. I don’t remember, but it doesn’t sound like me. I would usually walk by assuming he got what he deserved, so there’s proof that alcohol will make you do stupid shit.
We packed up and headed out to Mt. Rushmore. The rock was beautiful, but a mountain goat almost raped me. I thought they were tame. We started the long trip home at around noon. We headed east out of Sturgis towards Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma, and eventually Texas.
I had 1300 miles to reflect on the trip and I was extremely glad when I got home. Now here it is a year later and I feel the pangs of travel eating away at me. I have no vacation left at work, no money for vacation, and I can’t afford to take a week off without pay. But to tell you the truth, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? That’s what makes it fun. We spend all year juggling life and trying not to fall, but what do we end up with in the end. Nothing, just the legacy we leave behind which starts with the memories we make for our families and ourselves. Sturgis is about saying fuck the house, yardwork, bills, and the job. Sturgis is about having fun and celebrating with all the other riders who share the same passion for life that you do.
Fuck it! I’m going again this year. Hopefully I’ll see ya there.
