Riding, Day 6

Sunday, August 3, 2008

No early day today...at least not for Vince and me, up way too late last night (this morning!), talking and blogging...until 5:30am to be exact. JP, Nate and Matt took off to the Rapid City Civic Center to look at all the ‘09 Harleys, while Mark rode off to see Ft. Hayes, which was used as a set in Dances with Wolves. The lads are gonna take Matt's rental into town later and meet us if it works out. Don't want to rush, but can't waste the day...there's so much to see and we've only got one more full day in Sturgis.

While Vince does his best Fred Sanford imitation – it's not really a walk, and it's not quite a shuffle, but it is entertaining – I try to finish up some last-minute blog details for you nice people. Ready to go, the three of us (Vince, Mark, and myself) head back to Sturgis to see more of what we missed the day before. It's a great ride in, only t-shirts, but I do wear sunscreen, so safety isn't completely abandoned for the sake of biker style.

Cruising in, we find a shady spot to park (sweet!) and set off walking. It's noticeably more crowded today, folks beginning to roll in and the streets filling up. Talking to vendors, the mood is apprehensive – business is already off from last year, but there's still quite a bit of the Rally to go, so it may yet turn around.

But looking around the Corbin Seats display you'd never know business was off...five guys standing around, and me (the only customer in sight) wanting to purchase a gel seat for the ride home. My trick custom unit is just a little tough on this old bum, but I can't get one staffer to give me the time of day. No seat for me, no sale for them – too bad all around.

The temperature is in the low 90's with humidity about the same...think “convection oven”. We amble around taking in the sights, stopping off at the Jack Daniels display for some fun and swag...first class marketing, these guys know their business. Mark is searching for a painter to do some custom lettering, it's gotta be just right, so not just any hack will do, and each candidate must be vetted...doesn't look like anyone is gonna make the cut. The boys kind of weave in and out, they're around for a bit, and now they’ve disappeared.

I go down to the Broken Spoke Bar to check out the action and pick up a long sleeve t-shirt for the trip home. Walking back to meet Mark and Vince, it occurs to me that there is virtually never a moment that the sound of a Harley motor is out of ear-shot. No B.S., no hype...it's total immersion, Milwaukee style. And that's what makes this place so great; it's all about Harleys and the lifestyle, simple as that. No apologies, no "...yeah, buts". Go Harley, or go home.

I finally get it, what makes the Sturgis Rally special; it's not about the half-million-dollar motor homes and trailers, CEOs playing “badass” for the week, the MILFs with way too much tan and boobs, posers that shouldn't be on a Vespa let alone an overweight motorcycle with sketchy brakes, muscle-bound pretty boys, wanna-bes, or hard-case old timers. It's about all those people coming together to share the same experience, and in that moment all barriers come down and folks that would never cross paths in their "normal" lives are sharing stories and beer. Magic.

We stroll along Main Street drinking in all the people and machines, the truly cool and the incredibly weird. It's all here. Vince picks up a t-shirt and does some shopping for a friend that couldn't make the trip. Me, scoring my stickers, and I wish I could tell you what they say, but it's not that kind of blog (well, almost not).

Time for some ice cream cones (soooo good, must have been the heat, but we all swear they are some of the best we've ever tasted), check out the new Indians (hope they make it this time) and we reach our bikes. Time for the short ride to Deadwood, only about 20 minutes along a sweet stretch of asphalt that winds its way through a canyon bordered by rock and thick forest...they could make car commercials on this road. But today it's all ours and the cars are outnumbered 50-to-1, the way it should be.

If you've never been, Deadwood is a worthwhile look-see. While not quite like going "back in time", but it's about as close as you're gonna get. Main Street's buildings alone are just amazing, and there are always costumed characters walking the streets (at least during the Rally). And the bikes…the streets are lined with nothing but bikes. Hard to believe there are that many in the entire country. We park and start walking. No real purpose, just taking it in. Mark looks at wallets, Vince at belts, there's a fair amount of really nice leather goods in these parts and one never knows what treasures are in the next shop.

I score a nifty Sturgis "road sign", perfect for the garage. Vince gets yet another t-shirt. Mark's more selective, so nothing for him. The lads have decided to head up to Deadwood as well, just as we're leaving...sometimes that's the way it goes. We'll all meet up in a few hours to take in the vibe at the Full Throttle Saloon...oh, yeah, that'll be fun! The three of us fire up our machines, take the reverse route back down the mountain, hit I-90, and see – actually watch – our first motorcycle crash of the trip.

As quick as a thought, there's a bagger on the opposite side of the freeway that's drifting into the grassy center median. For a brief second, I think he's coming all the way over and we might just meet...but the tall grass and steep "V" terrain of the center divide have other plans. Just as he passes, his machine begins to swing violently at the back, and as I look in my mirrors, it goes down and he goes over the bars. Vince and Mark, both behind me, see that the rider is able to get up, so it’s not a bona-fide tragedy.

But is a definite reminder of how quickly things can turn to doody on a motorcycle, and why you've got to respect it every moment...and if that didn't get our attention, the freshly killed deer carcass on the side of the road about a mile from the downed rider sure does. We're focused.

Focused on throwing down some beer and cutting loose...quick rest at the hotel, and we're off...Full Throttle!

Say what? The dead deer, the dude hitting the deck...have you forgotten already? Nope, fear not. Matt has a rented car and will be our designated driver for the night.

The Full Throttle is an open-air bar that sorta looks like Andy Warhol meets Tombstone...a whacked-out rodeo arena, but instead of livestock there are bikes everywhere – you can ride your bike up to a bar if you are so inclined. There's a school bus planted straight up in the ground, a bridge to nowhere, bars and stages everywhere, one huge stage, a burn-out pad where you can smoke the tire literally until the wheels fall off...trust me, you've never been to a bar like this unless you've been here.

Tonight, there's an AC/DC cover band, "Big Gun", that's actually doing an amazing job. The joint is thumping, the bartenders, who somehow all happen to be women, are friendly and fun...we're diggin' it. Nate and I down a fair number of beers (only Corona for me), while Vince and Mark cruise the many vendors, and JP and Matt snap photos and make new "friends". It's all just a huge show and we're part of it...although our level of participation is subject to strict editing – even censorship!

We cap off the night watching JP and Nate get launched about 200 feet straight up into the sky in a steel ball...very cool. We can still hear JP laughing. Time to slink back to the hotel...it'll be light soon.

to Riding, Day 7 >>