STURGIS RALLY AND RACES '96
Roger and Cindy in Biker
Heaven...
Roger will replace the generic Biker image above
with a real one..showing nekkid women..well, maybe not nekkid...
Well, Keystone may not have been surprised at our arrival since there were already bikes of all kinds parked up and down both sides of the short mainstreet. We saw, of course, every kind of Harley, from original, old and new, to wild custom. Then there were all kinds of rice burners. There was even an old Indian (both the mechanical kind and the biological kind). Ahh #4.
The original Sturgis Rally and Races event was a get-together of the local Jackpine Gypsies club back in 1938. The picture I have of them in an account of the Sturgis history shows them all sitting on Indian motorcycles. So you see, this is NOT a Harley Davidson event, even though in recent years, say the last 6, Harleys have by far made up the greatest number of attending bikes. We checked out the action in Keystone (which didn't take long for its one-block mainstreet) and then headed back to camp for a good nights' sleep. Ahh #5.
Friday morning came and we hit the road for Mecca. Mohammed finally made the pilgrimage and was rewarded with every kind of sight. Ahh #6. Someone once said that if you don't see it at Sturgis, you won't see it anywhere else. Although we avoided a place or two that had certain "restrictions" and therefore missed some of those "only-in-Sturgis" sights, we were adequately entertained. Those restrictions? Well the Buffalo Chip campground, notoriously known far and wide with Sturgis alumni, had a street (more like a gauntlet) that required female riders to bare all in return for passage down the street.
This campground is populated by the most hardcore, so I suppose there were few complaints, but it would have been fun to see all the sights at Buffalo Chip, but not at that price for my lady. So what did we see in Sturgis? Well, the more interesting sights were reserved for Saturday,since Friday was cloudy and cool. We did walk mainstreet and visited some of the shops/bars to see what the vendors were plying. And that included everything from t-shirts and patches to motorcycles and parts to handcuffs and leather bondage goodies to tatoos and piercings. The whole range! Mild to wild. On the agenda was taking in some racing so we headed out to the track just a few miles west of town. When we got there, we found nothing much to do for a couple of hours and a $20 admission fee (awww #7) so we scooted back to town to check out the competition at Rat's Hole.
Now Rat's Hole is another tenant of the biker faith. Rat's Hole is a custom bike/beautiful women show. The top bikes in Rat's Hole go on to international competition held in Europe. The top women are crowned the coveted (??) Rat's Hole girl title. You can see all the Rat's Hole competitions (Sturgis, Daytona, Europe) on the net at http://www.ratshole.com Bikers of the '90s! What can I say?! Well when we got to the city park (which is also where the original 1938 rally started), the rain began so we detoured to an isolated shelter in the park and pulled our bikes and ourselves out of the weather.
A half hour or so visiting/resting, and when the rain quit we headed back to mainstreet, figuring there probably wasn't much going on at Rat's Hole right then with the combination of recent rain, activities restricted to the outdoors, and the high-dollar/never-been-ridden/ protect-from-the- elements-at-all-costs custom bikes. We did get lucky enough to see a good Sher imitator in the parking lot though. So back at mainstreet, we continued our trek through the shops and vendors until about 5:30 when mother nature decided she had held back long enough and unleashed a torent of wind and rain. Aww#8 As soon as the wind came up there were rumors of hail and a tornado, so my buddy and I ran to where we'd parked the bikes and protected them.
In case you were wondering, yes, we secured our ladies in a safe establishment before leaving them. After the rain let up and the hail did a no-show, we rejoined the ladies and continued the mainstreet trek. We found a bar that had been vacated for tatoo and piercing "vendors". There were all kinds of sights in that place! Now I've been in a multiple tatoo arena at another biker event, but never witnessed such diversity in piercing. Our ladies both announced that they were going to get a piercing.
Shelly didn't surprise me since she was sporting another new tatoo (Jiminy - her conscience) and said she always ends up going with a friend who wants something done and has it done herself. But Cindy, who's talked about getting a tatoo but, in my mind, would never be able to go through with it, really did surprise me. But I thought she might not go through with it, so I took a wait-and-see attitude. They announced that Sunday was the day for the pierce.
Shelly was a center of attention all by herself at Sturgis. She's well- endowed, young, pretty, and blonde. All the essential ingerdients for the low-life biker crowd. Ahh # 10 It was fun just following her through the pressed throngs and watching/listening to men's reactions. Back to the chronology...
Since it had been/was raining, we looked for and found some rain gear for the ladies, suited them up, and made the trek back to the cabins. It was a long, cool, damp ride. Not what this desert rat is used to. In fact, after we stopped in Rapid City for a coffee/pie/warm-up break, the remaining half hour ride to the cabin was down right cold. I was kicking myself for not bringing more appropriate gear. Like gloves!
Saturday morning, we headed over a mountain pass for Hill City (at ~6000 feet, I think). As cool as it was the night before, that morning ride through the beautiful countryside (ahhh # 11) was quite comfortable, though Cindy and I weren't sure how Shelly could be warm enough in what little she wore. The ride to Hill City was over a small blacktop road that intertwined with an 1880's set of train tracks as both wound their way up the hill. The smell of the tall pines was a nice addition to the mornings sights and sounds. The short descent to Hill City was like coming into many an old mining town in Colorado. Lots of old buildings rejuvenated for present day businesses, mixed in with new "old" construction. The cafe was on the boardwalk and was packed with tourists and bikers. After a great breakfast in Hill City (ahh #12), I kicked Lucille to life and we headed up the road for...you guessed - Sturgis.
One last stop before Sturgis, though, was the old 1800's town of Deadwood. Deadwood is an old west town carrying the notoriouty of the place where Wild Bill was shot in a bar. Today it's better known for the many legalized gambling halls. Each one is a throwback to turn-of-the-century with hanging chandaliers, dark carved wood, marble and wood floors, etc. Kevin Costner has his own casino in Deadwood. Quite a monument to the time period. Every one of these gambling halls is a bit of a surprise though, compared to the huge, glittzy casions of Nevada. The casinos in Deadwood are quite small most just the size of the original 1800's building, maybe 40 feet wide and 120-200 feet deep.
Now I'm not much for gambling. In fact I don't ever plug more than a dollar or two into the slots before I quit, but this day I got on a couple of short lucky rolls and actually won a few dollars - 10 here, 20 there. I gave it all back though. That's why I never go big on gambling - can't afford to lose too much. But it was the first time I had fun at it. Ahh #13
Okay, now it's time to head on into Sturgis. Saturday's weather is so much friendlier than Friday's and the crowds are there taking advantage of it. Again, we park the bikes in a guarded lot and walk mainstreet. We stop ina couple of bars and Jim and Shelly seem to have met a couple of old acquaintances. Eventually we make it back to the bar-turned- tatoo/piercingparlor. Even though it's not the appointed day and our ladies are not in the clothes they planned for this event, they decide that now is the time. Cindy tells Shelly to go first, so we step back while the woman is trying to mark the location for the new hole. Since it's warm and humid, the mark keeps running, and she keeps working on Shelly. For all we can tell, the darned needle is really having a tough time of it and Cindy's getting serious second thoughts.
First Shelly's up on the table and the woman's leaning over her tummy and then she's standing on the floor and the woman is kneeling, working on her tummy and then she's back up on the table. Cindy keeps asking anxiously, "Did she do it yet?" When the mark finally holds, the piercing is quickly over and Shelly's belly is sporting new jewelry. To calm Cindy, another couple working a nearby booth comes over and shows us his pierced nipples, claiming it doesn't hurt. Then the girl unabashedly opens her top to reveal two smallish but firm breasts sporting proud, pierced nipples. Ahhh #14
After Cindy endures the "painless" piercing, we head to the back "patio" to join Jim and Shelly, who have a marguarita waiting for Cindy. Whether the drink was actually weak or Cindy was too focused on the pain, I don't know, but it didn't slow her down much. Shelly on the other hand, was getting quite "relaxed" and by the time we left that bar, both women were feeling rather uninhibited.
We eventually ended up back on mainstreet to watch (and participate in) the goings-on. We found a good vantage point so Jim and I fetched the bikes and parked them right in front of our spot. The girls climbed on my bike and started acting rowdy. Now, in Sturgis, nothing draws a crowd quicker than good-looking, rowdy women. Before I could say "belly buttons", there were 3 or 4 guys with cameras in hand snapping pictures and rolling tape. One of the guys wasn't ready to give up without a real show and kept talking to the girls, getting close-ups of those new rings, and hoping they might bare more. He didn't know that these girls like to tease but deliver only to their men! After several minutes and a camera change, he gave up and moved on.
We spent the rest of the evening sitting on the bikes, enjoying the primo view of mainstreet until it was time to make the trek back to the cabins. This time we made a pass down and back up mainstreet on the bikes. We were part of the never-ending parade and enjoyed charging up the crowd by revving the engines. Not much sounds sweeter than a Harley with straight pipes ...except a cammed and stroked one of course! Each night on the trek to the cabins we would stop at the Perkins in Rapid City (which was about halfway between Sturgis and Keystone where we stayed). Coffee and hot chocolate were the order on Friday night so we could draw some warmth. Saturday night, after the heat of fighting traffic trying to leave the little but jam-packed town of Sturgis, we ordered sweets and cold drinks. It was nice to relax and review the day's activities each night.
Well, Sunday arrived and we were already pretty tired, so Cindy and I jumped on Lucille and rode to Mt. Rushmore to get a picture of her finger up Teddy's nose. You see, one of the engineers where she works asked her to check to see if there really was a bugger up his nose, so she thought it would be a cute picture with her arm extended and finger pointing, looking like it was up his nose. Is should have been a more patriotic visit, but hey - we were just low down bikers having some fun.
Cruising the 2-3 miles downhill back to Keystone, we were supposed to meet Jim and Shelly. The generator decided to give out on that last ride, so it was time to load it on the trailer and, after one last walk of Keystone and a bite at the Miner's Cafe, we headed for Rapid City and the Regional Airport where we eventually caught our flight for the Valley of the Sun. As we lifted off from Ellsworth, I couldn't help but think as I looked back on the only runway that a strategically aimed missle could shut down this SAC air base and ground all those high-powered B1-B bombers. How strange that this important base would be so vulnerable.
Well, that brings me up to today where I'm back at work, trying, with little success, to force myself to concentrate on the work at hand instead of the nice time I had in the Black Hills - the "Paha Sapa" as the Lakota Indians call it.
You'll have to wait for the pictorial when you all come to Phoenix.
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Roger Herrick
15 Aug 1996