Sturgis ’22

STURGIS ‘22

August 4 – Departure date -2

It actually takes me more than two days to get ready to leave for Sturgis.  The bike was pretty much ready, just check tire tread, tire inflation, oil levels, air filter and for my limited, coolant level.  But preparing the trailer took a bit more.  New tires were in order.  I think these have been on there for a lot of miles so, take the wheels off and haul them to the tire store.  This is not as easy as it sounds.  I have a good floor jack and enough wood blocks to add lift, but tent trailers have clearance issues.  I enlisted Patricia’s help, she is often better than I am with spacial relationships, but the trailer wheels extend into fenders under the trailer which extend above the trailer floor.  It is necessary to pull the bottom of the tire out, but the flange the wheel bolts onto interferes with the inner part of the wheel.  The interference is slight, but it is sufficient to make it impossible to get the wheel out, at least at this point.  After much frustration and some skinned knuckles more help was needed.  I called the company that makes the trailers, Time Out in Elkhart, Indiana, and asked if there was a trick to this.  He suggested that down pressure on the swing arm would give us clearance.  It worked, after we figured out how to get the pry bar from interfering with the wheel in place of the flange which had interfered before.

Getting them back on with the new tires was a bit simpler, except for one thing.  There are three pieces, the wheel, a chrome cone in the center of the wheel and an item that lets you grease the bearings without taking the hub apart. I left out the cone and had to take the wheel off and put it on again.

 August 5 – Departure date – 1

Time to open the trailer and get it packed.  The trailer has a cargo capacity of about 450 pounds, but I typically pack about 30 pounds.  Once open I always put up the whole thing and lubricate the poles.  The poles are aluminum and extend so a bit of silicon lube makes putting up and taking down the whole thing a lot easier.  All looked right and the air pump for the air mattress and the lantern were there and had batteries. 

Since the last time I started out with the trailer, Memorial Day, it was wagging its tail I had lowered the hitch on the bike and made sure to pack the heavier items toward the front.  These changes worked.  The trailer tracked straight and pulled easy for the whole trip. 

Prep for the bike was pretty simple, tire inflation, tread depth, oil levels and air filter.  It could use a wash job, but I figured it was likely to rain somewhere along the route so washing it would be wasted effort.  It was easy to make this decision because I was too lazy to wash it anyway.  The rear suspension was adjusted to make it a bit stiffer, anticipating the tongue weight of the trailer and a passenger.

Unlike most trips, I had made motel reservations for the first night.  Making reservations in advance is a mixed bag.  Knowing you have a place to sleep is a plus, but it also puts you on a schedule, which is sort of contrary to my nature.  Schedule means obligations and obligations can generate stress.  And I maintain that stress is worse for one’s health than all my bad habits combined.  I picked Moab, Utah for the first night.  But the mileage from Tucson to Moab is about 600 miles. 

August 6 – Day 1

The planned departure time was 7:00 a.m.  Of course, “the best laid plans ….”  Seven a.m. came and went, and I was still sitting in the garage.  Everything was packed but Patricia and I were reconsidering the wisdom of her riding on the back of the bike for about 600 miles.  She had not been on the bike for months and a 600-mile day, coupled with the anticipated heat, would be a tough time.  And I had already paid for my campground spot in Spearfish, and it started on the 8^th.  That meant three days to get there.  I recall that it was my suggestion but whoever brought it up, it was a rare occurrence for me, a good decision.  Patricia would fly to Rapid City and I would pick her up at the airport.  So we took Patricia’s saddlebag liner out and a few other things that she would take on the plane. 

Travel actually started around 10.  The route was my usual ride north, Arizona Highway 77 up through Globe, Show Low and eventually to I-40.  Then east to U.S. 191.  Southern Utah is a unique landscape.  It is a geology student’s study hall.  The rock formations are fascinating.  One was a perfectly round rock, sitting on a plain, with a small, almost square portion on top.  The rock was around 400 feet high and what made it so interesting was that it sat on the plain looking like a giant bowling ball.  I should have taken a picture, but I needed to be at the Apache Motel by 9:00 p.m.  It seems that unlike Motel 6, the Apache Motel does not “keep the light on for you.”  There was a lockbox set up if you arrived later, but I have enough trouble simply using a key and the idea of a lock box setup was intimidating. 

I missed another photo op when I passed through one of the small towns on 191.  The sign announcing that I was entering the town had the usual sign with unusual information.  It read “Established 650 A.D.”  It seems this area has been occupied continuously since that date.  There are cliff dwellings in the area and on previous trips I have taken the time to visit those.

I made it to Moab before 8 but was having a tough time finding the Apache Motel.  I pulled over to study the issue.  A Utah state trooper pulled up and asked if I was having a problem.  Based on years of experience of arriving in small towns, after dark, on a motorcycle, I have discovered that law enforcement tends to show up from nowhere.  Sometimes the tone is helpful, like this occasion giving directions.  But I have also encountered an accusatory tone on occasion.  Kind of like the old westerns where the question is:  “Stranger, you got business here?”  I told him that I was trying to figure out how to get to the Apache Hotel.  He gave great directions and I made it in time to find the lobby open.  (Giving directions is a valuable skill.   I hate the folks that give directions like this:  “You come to big red barn on your right – don’t turn there .…”)  The motel is off the highway a bit and is unusual.  The ownership takes great pride in the movie stars who have stayed there, especially John Wayne.  There is a near life size cut out of The Duke in the lobby, and the chairs in front of the reservation desk are two western saddles.  Apparently, a number of movies have been made in the area and many cast members stayed at the Apache Motel.  The place is off U.S. 191 and if you were passing through Moab you wouldn’t see it.  I recommend it based partially on its somewhat unique features.  One of the more interesting sights at the motel was, believe it or not, the phones. 

It’s a touch tone phone, disguised as a dial telephone.  I thought it was interesting.  Of course, I am easily amused.

August 7 – Day 2

Obviously, you cannot order weather to suit your plans.  The baseball game you were planning to attend may be rained out. No wind on the day you planned to go sailing. And certainly, you cannot order weather perfect for motorcycle riding.  But I got it anyway.  Rode north on 191 to I-70, then east for a bit until 191 turns north again.  It must have been a pretty good day, but I didn’t take any notes so rather than making stuff up I’ll just go on to August 8.  I do remember that I spent the night in Rawlins, Wyoming.  It used to be that if I didn’t remember it was an effect of too much beer.  Now it’s just because I’m old.  By the way, being old is great.  I can get away with stuff at 72 that I couldn’t when I was 42.

August 8 – Day 3

This was the day that I was to be in Spearfish.  And it was an interesting trip.  Good weather again and decent scenery.  I am a bit of a history nerd and a sucker for the historical markers.  One of the markers was at the area involved in the Teapot Dome scandal.  It seems that during the administration of President Harding it turned out that someone had siphoned off the profits from selling oil from a government oil reserve.  Imagine, politicians ripping off the country.  I guess not much has changed since the 1920’s.

I pulled over again for another historical marker further up the road and met Ruth.  She was from Maine and was returning home from a cross-country trip to San Diego.  We swapped some stories about interesting places on our respective routes for a while. 

The route took me on Wyoming Highway 59.  Interesting road, but not much for gas stations.  I was nursing the bike along, trying to stretch the mileage.  And I kind of made it.  Gillette, Wyoming was location of the next gas station.  I hit the city limits about when the bike started to sputter.  There was a gas station on the left and a light at the intersection where I needed to make the left turn.  At this point, I was coasting.  It’s not the recommended way to ride, but when you’re out of gas its better than pushing.  Remember, I’m pulling the trailer and the last thing I want to do is end up trying to push the rig across an intersection.  I had to time the intersection light, speed of the bike (at this point it was a question of how much brake to use) and oncoming traffic.  I got lucky, got a well-timed opening and made the left, then coasted to the curb.  I shook the bike a bit and it started and made the last 50 feet under its own power.

From there it was I-90 to Spearfish and the KOA.  There are a lot of things I like about this campground, trees, pool, grassy campsites, well maintained, but one of my favorites is the office/store and the beer cooler.  It was in the 90’s and it seemed very clear that in order to set up my tent trailer a six-pack of Pabst 16 ouncers was a necessity.  It took three beers and an hour to set up.  It can be done in about 10 minutes if you’re in a hurry, but I’ve only been in a rush to set it up once.  But that’s another story.  I saved setting up the screen room for tomorrow when I would have help.  (Patricia would be here.)  I went to dinner at a sports bar in Spearfish, I think it’s called the Stadium Bar, took a nap and at 9, headed for the Rapid City airport.  For once, the plane was on time.  Then we rode back to camp and hit the sack.

 As I said, it was warmer than usual for Bike Week and there was not much of a breeze.  But there was enough air movement through the screens on the tent windows to make sleep possible.  I can work outside at home in Tucson when it’s 105, keep the thermostats in the house at 85, but when it’s time to sleep, I much prefer cool temps, or, lacking that, a good breeze.  At home, the thermostat has a program set that drops from 85 to 73 when it’s time for bed.

August 9 – Day 4

You might think that riding all the way to Sturgis and then spending the day hanging around the campground is odd.  But for me, the ride is at least as much of a reason to make the trip as the attractions of bike week.  I will never understand why so many people trailer their bikes to Sturgis.  August is a great month to ride and the scenery is great.  That’s one of the big differences between recent years and the old days.  My first trip to Sturgis was ’82.  The only group I saw that didn’t come in on two wheels was a school bus from Florida with the bikes inside.  But the bikes were panheads and these guys brought their wives and kids with them.  So that made sense.  But recently it seems that as many bikes are trailered in as come under their own power.  For me, one of the saddest things to see is a late model pickup with two dressers in the back, two guys in their thirties in the cab and Colorado plates. 

Now there is a different way that Patricia and I approach issues.  Possibly, it is something related to gender.  It was pretty warm in the tent at night without a breeze.  I figured it would be another warm night.  She thought about making it more comfortable.  She got out her tablet and found a battery operated, rechargeable fan.  And it would charge off the 12 volt plug in the tourpak.  Then she found a Walmart just down the road that carried these.  So, for $12 we became the proud owners of a portable fan.  Then back to the KOA to set up the screen room on the trailer.  Setting that porch onto the trailer is a lot easier for two people than for me to set it up alone.  The tent part is easy with one person, in fact there would be little advantage to having help with that part.  When it’s all set up it’s quite acceptable accommodations for a trip to bike week.  And it often attracts people who are a bit surprised that I can pull it in behind the bike. 

If you look at the picture it shows the size of the trailer closed as opposed to open.  The section right behind the hitch is about the width of the closed trailer.

I’ve camped every trip to Sturgis.  I prefer that to staying in a motel.  I like waking up and sitting outside the tent, working on the first cup of coffee and enjoying watching the comings and goings.  Some bikes are pulling out to go somewhere, some people are marching up to the shower house, or milling around their own tents.  And I’ve been in space 104 of this campground for at least the last four years.  It turns out that others follow a similar pattern.  The camp sites near 104 are occupied by the same people year after year.  I know my neighbors in the Spearfish KOA better than I know my neighbors in Tucson.  And sitting out in the early morning usually includes one or more of these neighbors sitting together for coffee and to discuss where to go today. 

In the early afternoon we hit the pool.  Like everything else is this campground, the pool is very well maintained.  An hour or so around the pool was great.  And it seems everyone is pretty friendly so it’s another chance to swap stories about the trip and about past trips to Sturgis.  And there is usually more than one language spoken.  Sturgis does draw participants internationally.  On the road I met a group from Ireland.  They had flown into Vegas, picked up rental bikes (and a map) and hit the road to Sturgis. 

Most of the day was spent just sitting around.  That may have something to do with the fact that I’m 40 years older than I was on the first trip.  When it was bedtime, the big question was whether we had wasted $12.  Worked out fine.  The fan came with a clip that attached in nicely to one of the poles in the tent and the artificial breeze made things very comfortable.

August 10 – Day 5

Off to the Sturgis Motorcycle Hall of Fame breakfast and induction ceremonies.  There are a variety of trikes on the road, Harley makes one, the Spyder, there’s one made in Utah, some homemade, but this one was unique.  I’d like to see it run.

This was the only day where any activity was pre-planned.  (And pre-paid) These days the Sturgis Motorcycle Hall of Fame holds its annual induction ceremony at Deadwood Lodge in a large banquet room.  I’m told that in earlier years it was held in a big tent, but my attendance at this event only goes back four or five years.  In those four or five years I’ve seen a number of my UGLY Brothers inducted, many from my Chapter.  UGLY Willie G. and UGLY Peter Fonda have received Lifetime Achievement Awards, Willie from the Milwaukee Chapter and Peter from the Southwest Chapter. Other Hall of Fame members are Oliver Shokouh (2007, Southwest Chapter), Micah McCloskey (2020, Southwest Chapter), Carlo Lujan (2022, Jefferson Chapter) and Bill Davidson 2022, Milwaukee Chapter).

The ceremony can go on, some parts longer than you might think warranted. The Kickstands Up presentation was went to Ben Hardy.  It went on for quite a while but was interesting.  The presenter, whose name escapes me, claimed to have personal experience with Hardy and some of the bikes he built.  Kickstands Up is apparently dedicated to deceased personalities whose achievements deserve recognition.  Hardy was a bike builder in south L.A.  Probably his best-known builds were the bikes used in the movie Easy Rider.  He told a different story of what happened to the bikes used in the movie than I had heard before.

 Might be true. 

On display on the stage was a 1953 Harley which had been restored by Hardy.  It is a beautiful example of the work of a craftsman.

The cute one in the middle is Patricia. 

As usual, we assembled for a group picture.  And there are also a lot of people in the crowd who, for some reason, want a picture of us. 

The day’s activities were not over with the Hall of Fame breakfast.  We could browse around Sturgis until it was time for dinner at Vinny’s.  While wandering around town I encountered what is to become one of my favorite signs of all time, rivaling the famous banner over the gas pumps at a 76 station: “Kids with Gas eat Free.”  Attorneys are important to the culture these days.  We are the only group about which one can say anything without being concerned about offending someone.  Attorney jokes are still acceptable in a society that brands people who dare to make a crack about illegal immigrates, serial killers or child molesters.  And this sign shows creativity by someone.

Brother Vinny has a shop in Sturgis and the shop includes a clubhouse.  Vinny put on a catered event for UGLYs and some invited guests.  He had set up tables in the back parking lot, the caterers were set up in a building on one side of the lot and the clubhouse was on the other. 

The food was really first-class, open bar in the clubhouse, tables were shaded by canopies, just great.  Good barmaid, too.  She moved fast, got everything right and easy on the eyes.  All the requirements met.

My opinion could have been a bit effected by the fact that it was an open bar. 

It took me a while to figure out that what looks like a guy sitting behind the bar was actually the reflection of a guy sitting at one of the tables. 

Patricia really enjoyed the party.  It was a chance to see a lot of people she hadn’t seen in a while and to meet some of the guys I’ve been talking about for years.

Yep, it was a really good day. 

August 11 – Day 6

We had been in the area three days and had not made it to the main drag in Sturgis.  So, it was time to get there and start contributing to the spending which makes this town it’s budget for the year.  Think about it, a town with a population of about 7,000 for 50 weeks a year is visited by about 400,000 people who are all spending like drunken sailors.  (The Society for a Higher Image of The navy (“SHITn”) will be after me.) 

I still remember the first time I turned onto the main drag in ’82.  It looks like all the motorcycles in the world were parked on that stretch of street.  Back then, there were more tits hanging out on that street than on a dairy farm.  Now the local gendarmes fine the ladies for that offense.  However, they do allow the boobs to run bare if they are painted.  Strange but true.  I’d love to have heard the discussion that led to that decision.  I was looking for an example to take a picture but no good opportunity came along.  When a good example (34 inches or better) came along I was either on the bike or the example was with a guy twice my size.  Use your imagination.

Much to my surprise, there was at least one bull moose in the crowd.

One Eyed Jack’s was full of people as usual.  Some work there, some come to drink, and eat, and people watch.

. Shy little thing. Great cheeks.

 More great cheeks.

We made our contribution to the bars and the local treasury.  You see, every vendor has to have a permit from the City of Sturgis and must collect sales tax which is turned over to the City.  Think about it.  Conservatively, the visitor count is 400,000 and I think it’s safe to assume an average 3 day stay.  I doubt that it’s possible to spend a day in Sturgis during bike week for less than $300 and the average is likely over $700 a day.  At $700 a day, average 3 day stay and attendance of 400,000, the local sales tax take at 6.5% equals about $54 million, about $7700 per person of the normal population of Sturgis.  Not counting the price of the vendor permit.  

August 12 – Day 7

On the road again.  We had camp packed up and were on the road by late morning.  We headed out through Spearfish Canyon, south of highway 85, through Lusk, Wyoming.  It’s more scenic than the Interstate I came in on.  (It always causes me to shudder a bit to end a sentence with a preposition, but “on which I came” sounds a bit out of place here.)  Typically, once I turn for the barn, I’m like a rented horse.  Not many pictures, not many notes.  We stopped at Motel 6 in Laramie.

August 13 – Day 8

As usual, I stuck to the secondary highways.  I resisted the temptation to stop in Cisco again.  Cisco is a town that was bypassed by I-70 and pretty much dried up. 

In 1974 my friend Steve Heron on his ’69 XLCH and me on my ’74 Norton Commando were bound for Wisconsin.  We had lunch and gassed up here. 

Cisco may be making a bit of a comeback, sort of.  The Buzzard Belly General Store is now open. 

Moab was full of tourists and off-road rigs, jeeps, and side by sides. 

We did hit the Apache Motel again on the way home.  I wanted Patricia to try it and see if she shared my opinion that it was a good stop. 

August 14 – Day 9

We got an early start out of Moab.  The plan was to reevaluate the situation when we hit Show Low.  We got back into Arizona and continued south and across Navaho country.  There were clear signs that there had been a lot of rain and substantial flash floods.  You can tell the size of the flood by the height of the debris on the fences.  And there was a lot of mud on the roads.  It was very wet mud and I dropped a couple gears and kept the throttle open a bit and the clutch engaged.  It was hot for the first few hours but by the time we got toward Show Low it was a bit more temperate. We gassed up and decided to continue, now to reevaluate when we hit Globe.  I figured by the time we hit Globe Patricia might be willing to make the last 100 and some miles, even if it was hot.  It warmed up again south of Globe, but that rented horse syndrome took over for both of us and we made it home, a 600-mile day.

Another great trip.  Never had to put on the rain gear.  Headwinds were not a problem, in fact, when there was wind it was generally a tail wind.  Bike ran great.  Trailer pulled well.  I think I’ll do it again next year.