Finally to Sturgis

—Les G.
from April 1999

I've always heard actions speak louder than words. On July 25, at 8:45 am, I put that axiom to the test as I started out in the general direction of Sturgis, South Dakota. Since rally week was August 3-9, and my old neighbors had moved to Casper, Wyoming, a couple of years ago, Casper was my actual destination.

The journey to Casper was uneventful, except I now wish I had taken the time to stop at the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument. After spending the night in Butte, Montana, I quickly crossed the Continental Divide at 6300+ feet and continued on my way, arriving in Casper some 1150 miles later at about 7:30 on the 26th.

Two things surprised me on the way: The number of bikes (or lack of) that were not local traffic (around Spokane, Missoula, etc.). I think I could have counted the number of travelers heading either way on one hand. I realize I left about a week before most anyone else, but being the middle of summer, and on a weekend, I thought that I'd see many more than I did.

The other was the ease and quickness of my arrival in Casper. After poring over the different maps, I decided there wasn't anything I really wanted to stop and see (as mentioned before, I'm now wishing otherwise), so except for the "occasional" pit stop, I burned right on through. With only 3 major highways (I-5, I-90 and I-25) involved, and that east of Snoqualmie Pass I could do at least 80 mph if I so wanted, I could account for my speedy arrival. There were times in eastern Montana and in Wyoming were the road just stretched on and on. I caught myself doing close to 90 mph and even then there were times that I was passed like I was "standing still."

The week spent with friends in Casper was quite enjoyable and relaxing. Besides catching up on happenings of the past couple of years, there was the "show you around the area" bit. The area does have its share of both historical and natural places of interest: Ft. Casper, the Casper Mountains, Hells Half Acre, North Platte (River) Park, Ayres Natural Bridge Park, Teapot Dome as well as just the natural beauty (in its own right) of the area.

Sunday morning (August 2) dawned on the cloudy-looking rainy side, but I took off on the final leg to Sturgis. After heading north on I-25 for a few miles, I cut off on WYO-259 to angle my way up to Gillette before hitting the Interstate again. Not only would this knock a few miles off, but for the most part, Wyoming's roads are almost as good as the Interstate except for being only two lanes. So, besides being able to make almost as good travel time, the scenery and photo ops are much better.

I needed to make a pit stop (too much morning coffee, I guess) about 50 miles out from Casper and ran into three other bikers all having the "weeks gear" strapped on. I joined in, as these were the only ones I'd seen so far that morning. Next stop was gas in Gillette, and that's where I found out that I was the only one going directly to Sturgis. The gas station was in sight of I-90. Up to that point, I hadn't seen many bikes at all, even during the week in Casper. One sure could see that something was happening with all the iron heading eastbound on I-90.

After dodging the scattered T-storms, and sitting out a brief shower at my pit stop, I got to Sturgis only slightly damp. I found the campground I was looking for, found a "high" spot to pitch my "house," and relaxed for awhile before heading out to see the "sights." I was not prepared for what I saw. Even seeing all the bikes headed in every direction as I was coming into Sturgis and at the campground didn't prepare me. Five blocks, four rows of nothing but motorcycles and that's not to say anything about the side streets being jammed for the first couple of blocks on each side.

The next morning there was to be a "Wyoming Encounters Tour" to Devil's Tower which I somehow managed to miss even though I was on time at the designated spot according to the printed info. Just as well. I probably had more "fun" going by myself as I went the opposite way that the tour went. Since it was drizzling when I left, I had put on my rain gear (including my little green booties) which a couple of people at the campground made a wisecrack about. I thanked my lucky stars that I did, since I didn't hit anything less than a sprinkle from Sturgis to Devil's Tower–about 100 miles.

All the rain, bad road, and mud on the way was well worth the aggravation. Just rounding that first curve and seeing Devil's Tower in the light rain sent a thrill through me. Other glimpses of it being shrouded by brief fog banks gave it that mystical touch. Finally, arriving at the park amid some actual sun breaks and then being able to walk around the base in the sun made the whole day well worth it.

Arriving back at the campground, I was met by my friend and ex-neighbor from Casper. After hearing about his horrifying trip up to Sturgis in the torrential downpours, we grabbed a bite to eat and headed downtown to see the sights and some obligatory shopping. Tuesday was more of the same, only this time in earnest. I think we hit every shop and display there was. There were a number of custom displays, most of them absolutely beautiful either in design and or color. I didn't price any of them, but just to look at them, I'd be willing to bet any one of them would be at least $30,000 on up.

As for shopping for souvenirs (the T-shirt capital of the world) and accessories or parts (for Harleys); if it's made, chances are it's there someplace. Also, there were at least half a dozen places for getting tattoos and body piercings done–every one of them with waiting lines when we passed through. Then there were the beer gardens and snack bars to rest one's weary feet. Seating usually was at a premium, but far easier than trying to find a "seat" out on the sidewalk for bike watching. And there was enough of that going on, too.

Wednesday was "rest and relaxation" day. We needed that after walking our legs off to the knees the day before. A visit was made to Ft. Meade just east of town. This was one of the very few forts in the country that saw everything from the Indian wars to W.W.II, and the displays reflected that. There are buildings still standing that were the cornerstone of the original fort.

My last night was spent at one of the nightly concerts held at the Buffalo Chip Campground (one of the 3 top concert venues in the world, but I would not recommend it for camping out!). After Blue Oyster cult was done and the stage was changed, Steppenwolf made their appearance amid the thousands of fans and a couple of thousand bikes. For me, the highlight of my Sturgis run was their last number. After the first couple of bars, a few hundred bikes started up to the tune of "Born to be Wild." One could hardly hear the music over the roar of the bikes.

The next morning on the way back Casper for the weekend, I got the surprise of my life. We were somewhere between Rapid City and Mt. Rushmore when I noticed a bike pulled off to the side of the road. I stopped to see if anything was wrong. There wasn't and so I pulled out again after another bike had went by. As I was speeding up, this "idiot" slowed down so I went to pass. As I was passing, I heard a yell, looked over, and, lo and behold, it was my next door neighbor. I had left a message to meet, but never connected. So there on the side of the highway, we had a get together between him and his wife, me, and our "old" neighbor who was with me.

Mt. Rushmore was all right for a first time visit, but I don't care to go back again—primarily because of the parking fee of $8 for a car and $5 for a bike. But the area is a beautiful bike ride with all the hills, gentle twists and turns and trees after the flat and barrenness just to the east and west.

Monday morning dawned bright and clear and after saying some tearful "thank you's" and "good-bye's," I headed west on WYO-20/26. First stop of the day was Shoshoni at the Yellowstone Drug store for one of their "World Famous Malts and Shakes." These weren't the usual "Dairy Queen" size; these suckers were huge! And for probably about half the price of a Dairy Queen.

Next on the agenda was a stop in Lander where I thought that the first JC Penny store was located. I located the local Chamber of Commerce (conveniently on the two block trip into town) and found out that it was in one of my other planned stops further along the route. I did pick up some other info to add interest to a planned stop, so all wasn't wasted! I needed a petrol-rest stop anyway.

The countryside of Wyoming is beautiful in its own way and my next stop was no different: Red Canyon country just a few miles south of Lander. A beautiful, lush green valley "framed" on both sides by the red, layered sandstone of that part of the state. After that breath-taking stop, it was on to South Pass City where the old buildings of the mid to late 1800's are being been restored to their original condition. South Pass City was "founded" in 1868 at the start of the gold rush in that area and went bust a short time later when the gold played out. But it also served as a stop on the Oregon Trail, with the last wagon rolling through in 1912. It brought back at lot of memories as most of these buildings were put up about the same time as the house I was raised in Michigan, except 7800 feet does something to the "weathering process."

My original intent was to stop at South Pass. My interpretation from the maps was that it was a tourist stop. I mentioned this to one of the people at South Pass City, and was almost assured that it was and was located only "about 10 miles down the road." I should have known from my past experience with the locals in Wyoming about the "about" distances. I started out again. Ten miles came and went. Fifteen miles came and went. Finally, at about the even 20 mile mark, I saw what I was looking for out of the earner of my eye: Continental Divide 7550 feet. No room to pull off, no stop of any kind. Just wanted one photo of "Continental Divide xxxx feet." Crossed the damned thing twice, and still came up empty handed.

After a brief bout of disappointment, I continued on through the countryside to Kemmerer, the home of the first JC Penny's store in the U.S. I was told that the one standing is actually the 3rd one, but sits on the original site. The family's home is just a block away, but they were both closed by the time I arrived.

After a short meal and photo op, I continued on to Fossil Butte National Monument, about 10 miles west of town. This was a very interesting stop in that it help me to further understand the terrain of eastern, central and southwestern Wyoming. At one time, this area along with a much larger portion of the West laid under varying amounts of water. Hard to believe, isn't it?

Shortly after leaving Fossil Butte, I had my only "disaster" on the whole trip to Casper. I could see the dark clouds in the distance, and was hoping I would be able to veer off to one side or the other of them, or miss them completely. Wrong! I couldn't get stopped fast enough to "waterproof" things when it hit. I was damp by the time I got to my rain gear. And of course, 10-15 miles down the road, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and hadn't looked like it had rained a bit.

I pulled into the first gas station for a rest stop and to change: rain gear for another jacket and chaps. As I pulled the rain gear off, I noticed a sudden chill. As I stood there thinking of what to do, I noticed a Budget Inn across the parking lot. After finding out the rate for the night ($21), I accepted, deciding to end the travels for the day instead of continuing on and "freezing to death." I'm glad I did, as next morning the temp was 45 outside my window.

For those of you that don't know (I was part of that group), what may be cold at 8 in the morning, can very quickly warm up, as 2 hours later, I was stopping for gas and removing my jacket. The rest of the day was uneventful except the heat of Idaho, into Oregon, and on into Yakima for the night. I had wanted to continue on home, but decided that spending another night out was worth not arriving home in the middle of the night dead tired if I arrived at all.

I was home by noon the next day after a beautiful and relaxing four hour trip from Yakima via SR-12 and SR-123 to Cayuse Pass and the rest of the way. Pulling into my own driveway after a 2-1/2 week, 3,594 mile trip felt good. The old saying of it being a wonderful trip, but it's good to be home sure rang true.

An afterthought: the ones that made a wise remark about me wearing my "little green booties" apologized to me the next morning. Apparently, they'd went out and got their feet soaked, because they told me that they'd never make fun of anyone again who was wearing foot gear of any type.

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