Oh what a day. So much better than the last few. I didn’t hit the road until 10:00 but I’m not worried about that today. It’s a chilly morning, at least to me. Most of those headed out are in short sleeve shirts or light jackets. I’ve got my heavy leather jacket on. Of course I’m rolling with my windows down.
We’re off to Sturgis, finally. It’s a quick ride as Sturgis is only about 30 miles from Rapid City. Smoke is still heavy in the area and the surrounding hills are hard to see in some places. It doesn’t take long to arrive in town. This is where this whole thing started, ten years ago.
At the time, Dad was living in Madison, Alabama. It was a hard day’s ride to get to me but he came into town on the Friday before the rally started, crashed on our couch. We left out that Saturday and headed north to Dallas. I still don’t know how, but we got lost momentarily. Back then Dad was on Bertha and I was on Sasha, a 2004 Suzuki Volusia. GPS for us was Dad’s phone, which generally worked well except for this time. We were running into stoplights in the middle of some Dallas suburb. We finally got our bearings and made it into Oklahoma and then Kansas. We had to run hard to make it to Sturgis in only 2 days. His wife Cheryl was flying into Rapid City on Monday morning so we had to be there to pick her up.
We ran hard that first day until the sun started to get low and stopped for a quick burger at Wendy’s in Salina, Kansas. This was before our mission was born and rules were set in place. I had no clue where we were going to bed down that night, neither did Dad. We continued north for a few miles before turning left on some country road. A few miles down we pass a house with a for sale sign out front and Dad signals to pull a u-turn. We head back to said house to check it out. There’s no evidence of anyone currently living there so we setup camp behind some trees in the yard.
It was our first night out. We had no fire and really no other light source so it was a dark night, but we did have a few cold beers. In the morning we hauled ass again to get into town. Sasha was way overworked when we pulled into town. The bike traffic was massive. We’re not moving fast enough so Sasha begins to overheat, killing the engine. She’s got to get some airflow to cool off or she’s going to a point where she won’t start back up before cooling down.
We end up pulling off onto some residential street to try and bypass the traffic. It’s a shite idea as we’re not the only one’s to think of it. Sasha shuts down again. It just so happens that there is a group of folks sitting on the porch across the street. We inform them of our situation and they offer us a beer while we wait for Sasha to cool off.
We’ve got to get through town in order to get to our camp site for the week. After finishing our conversations and beer we head back onto the main drag. Once again Sasha overheats and dies, this time Dad doesn’t realize it and continues through town. It’s a bit of a debacle but he eventually comes back and finds me. We find parking close enough to push the bike to and head into one of the many bars for a beer. Sasha and I both need to cool off.
We did finally make it to camp and the rest of the week went great. Traffic was still bad but we weren’t running 600 miles before sitting in it. Sasha did great the rest of the week. We travelled to Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse and Devil’s Tower, ran Needles Highway and more. On travelling home, we realized that we were traveling through nine different states. The mission was thus born.
The idea to make an annual motorcycle trip was pretty much inevitable after Sturgis. The mission and the rules were born quickly. There’s so much more to tell about Sturgis though. We got to see Gretchen Wilson and Bret Michaels in concert, see thousands of motorcycles in a day (for multiple days), and meet some great people.
But today was about remembering everything from that week ten years ago. I started in Sturgis, found the sign and got a photo of Libby in front of it. From there I ventured over to JP Cycles. JP is pretty much the go-to for motorcycle parts and accessories. I really just want to walk around and browse their stuff and do for a few minutes. Then it’s off to lunch.
I see a lot of the places we stopped at for food or a beer. A lot of memories here. Lunch is at a place called the Loud American Roadhouse. We never came in here on our rally trip. A Cubano Sandwich sounds best and is delicious, hits the spot. Then it’s on to Mount Rushmore. We run back up to Rapid City and turn off to head into the hills.
The day is still pretty cool and the road is good. Nice twists and turns all the way. When I arrive I find a large parking complex that I don’t remember from before. The monument of course hasn’t changed as it has long since been considered completed. A quick run through the gift shop and then onwards to Crazy Horse.
It’s another great ride to the Crazy Horse monument. I’m anxious to get here and see how much has been done since I was last here. Not much. The final sculpture will be amazing but I doubt it’ll be done in my lifetime. Still, it’s an amazing sight to see.
From here it’s time to head to today’s destination, Lead, not far from Rapid City. I can get a couple of nights here for free so I’ve changed over. It’s an amazing ride in. The road doesn’t straighten out for more than a half a mile and is mostly twisties. The landscape of the hills is incredible even with all the smoke.
At some point we end up stuck behind a cement truck with a couple of other riders. Before long there’s six of us riding together. The miles pass and eventually me and another rider are able to pass up this slow moving cement truck and continue together for several miles. We’re not together but it feels good to ride with someone again.
We eventually make our way to the Lead/Deadwood split, I’m headed left, them right. We “say our goodbyes” and I continue up the road. Just a couple of minutes out. Lead seams like a ski town and main street is where everything is. For some reason Libby’s GPS decides to route me through the back streets. I’m not happy with it but we do get to our hotel.
After a short rest I head out for dinner. There’s a little place just down the road that sounds good, the Sled Haus. German food and beer. It’s a small hole in the wall kind of place but the food is excellent. I order the Schweinbraten, pork roast with brown gravy, red cabbage and German fries. It’s way to much food and I absolutely gorge myself.
A biker couple walks in as I am working on my “last beer”. We get to talking and I opt to stay for a couple more drinks. As I get close to finishing for good I overhear another “gentleman” giving my waitress a hard time. It’s a cash only place so I watch after she brings him his change. He takes all the cash, neatly folds it and puts it in his pocket then centers the remaining dime on the receipt tablet.
I’m infuriated now. I can’t stand that kind of attitude towards waitstaff. No tip is one thing, a dime is insulting. It’s an intentional insult which is worse than no tip at all. When I close out I make sure to tip the young lady well, 25% for me and 25% for the asshole she had to handle. I know it’s not my duty to make up for a dickhead with an attitude but I feel bad for her. She’s been great with me, and him since he walked in. Besides, what’s twenty bucks after yesterday?
Tomorrow the plan is to run Needles Highway or out to Devils tower, maybe both. Just another day running through the area, remembering our time here ten years ago. Running Needles will be good since I’ll be able to leave all my gear behind and lighten Libby a little bit. She’s handling really well since all her upgrades. We only traveled 160 miles today but the memories that came back were immeasurable.
Some of what is saw today is below.
The Motorcycle Diaries of an Easy Rider 