Sturgis
Sturgis is a town about 25 miles northwest of here, it had a little mining and served the ranches and the tourists in a quiet way until someone dreamed up Bike Week. August 6-13.
I went to the dentist on Monday, a drive of 20 minutes, and saw over 1,000 motorcycles on the few streets I went on. They are everywhere, coughing and roaring through the city. I swear to you that there can’t possibly be any motorcycles left anywhere in the US this week. Driving with them all around is a little unnerving. Besides the noise, the whole affect is whoo-eee, we are wild and free (and full of beer and testosterone) so they might do almost anything on the street. They often travel in groups, for company and visibility and also secretly pretending to be a motorcycle gang..
The majority of them have Harley Davidsons. The American bike. Some just big and black and bad, the riders in studded leathers with long gray hair and beards, beer bellies and ample breasts barely constrained. Then there are the chopped hogs, handlebars up in the air, big tire in the back or in the front, frames lengthened or shortened, tricycles and side cars and no end to the wild color schemes, and customized accessories. They are an arresting sight, America’s love affair with machinery and engines and noise and freedom and hitting the road and all that Beat Generations stuff.
A lot of the bikes are Honda Goldwings or similar large comfortable cushy road bikes, sometimes pulling a matching tiny pop up camper. These are for the more conservative bikers who are a cleaner bunch in matching leather jackets and chaps, their paint all shined up with multiple coats of lacquer so the colors glow in the hot sun.
We have a lot of them here in the Resort, both the nitty-gritty ones who have a tent and the big motor homes with a lift on the back for a motorcycle. Top of the line is a Prevost motorhome (1million $$$ plus, custom, usually looks like a fancy whorehouse inside) and an enormous cargo trailer with a Harley and a Corvette inside. Except for the amazing noise (I keep looking for the helicopter or the train) they have been very well behaved. I gather that there is hardly a patch of shade in the area that is not charging people to stay in for this week, and at jacked up prices. A lot of people who come to Bike Week every year become members here just to have a place to stay for the week, and it works out to be cheaper that way.
I didn’t go into downtown Sturgis; they have the main street filled pretty much with a double row of motorcycles down the middle, a row on either side. Traffic is ridiculous. Maybe next year, I am curious to see it all. The people-watching would be fabulous. I heard of a truck driver who does nothing but run back and forth from Billings MT with semi after semi full of food to feed all those people. I imagine the beer distributors pull out every truck and bottle they can find.
North of Sturgis is what looks like a volcanic cone, pretty big, that is called Bear Butte and is sacred to the Native Americans hereabouts. There is a State park there, and I guess the bikers meet there for drunken noisy revelry which the NA’s don’t like at all and try to curtail. Probably to no avail.
This event brings in 100’s of thousands of dollars to the local economy both in actual goods and services sold and buckets of sales tax on the vendors. Anyone who sells anything remotely associated with motorcycles is here, has to be here. Even our little store at the campground has shirts and hats and head scarves (to keep the bugs out of your hair or teeth) for sale. I want a tank top that is black with cut outs for my love handles all edged in orange with flames and a heart (for Hart Ranch) in jewels on the front. But there is absolutely NO place I would dare wear it except on a bike here, this week and that’s not happening anytime soon.
I went to the dentist on Monday, a drive of 20 minutes, and saw over 1,000 motorcycles on the few streets I went on. They are everywhere, coughing and roaring through the city. I swear to you that there can’t possibly be any motorcycles left anywhere in the US this week. Driving with them all around is a little unnerving. Besides the noise, the whole affect is whoo-eee, we are wild and free (and full of beer and testosterone) so they might do almost anything on the street. They often travel in groups, for company and visibility and also secretly pretending to be a motorcycle gang..
The majority of them have Harley Davidsons. The American bike. Some just big and black and bad, the riders in studded leathers with long gray hair and beards, beer bellies and ample breasts barely constrained. Then there are the chopped hogs, handlebars up in the air, big tire in the back or in the front, frames lengthened or shortened, tricycles and side cars and no end to the wild color schemes, and customized accessories. They are an arresting sight, America’s love affair with machinery and engines and noise and freedom and hitting the road and all that Beat Generations stuff.
A lot of the bikes are Honda Goldwings or similar large comfortable cushy road bikes, sometimes pulling a matching tiny pop up camper. These are for the more conservative bikers who are a cleaner bunch in matching leather jackets and chaps, their paint all shined up with multiple coats of lacquer so the colors glow in the hot sun.
We have a lot of them here in the Resort, both the nitty-gritty ones who have a tent and the big motor homes with a lift on the back for a motorcycle. Top of the line is a Prevost motorhome (1million $$$ plus, custom, usually looks like a fancy whorehouse inside) and an enormous cargo trailer with a Harley and a Corvette inside. Except for the amazing noise (I keep looking for the helicopter or the train) they have been very well behaved. I gather that there is hardly a patch of shade in the area that is not charging people to stay in for this week, and at jacked up prices. A lot of people who come to Bike Week every year become members here just to have a place to stay for the week, and it works out to be cheaper that way.
I didn’t go into downtown Sturgis; they have the main street filled pretty much with a double row of motorcycles down the middle, a row on either side. Traffic is ridiculous. Maybe next year, I am curious to see it all. The people-watching would be fabulous. I heard of a truck driver who does nothing but run back and forth from Billings MT with semi after semi full of food to feed all those people. I imagine the beer distributors pull out every truck and bottle they can find.
North of Sturgis is what looks like a volcanic cone, pretty big, that is called Bear Butte and is sacred to the Native Americans hereabouts. There is a State park there, and I guess the bikers meet there for drunken noisy revelry which the NA’s don’t like at all and try to curtail. Probably to no avail.
This event brings in 100’s of thousands of dollars to the local economy both in actual goods and services sold and buckets of sales tax on the vendors. Anyone who sells anything remotely associated with motorcycles is here, has to be here. Even our little store at the campground has shirts and hats and head scarves (to keep the bugs out of your hair or teeth) for sale. I want a tank top that is black with cut outs for my love handles all edged in orange with flames and a heart (for Hart Ranch) in jewels on the front. But there is absolutely NO place I would dare wear it except on a bike here, this week and that’s not happening anytime soon.
posted by Thistledown24 at 10:24 AM
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