Sturgis, the world's largest motorcycle rally

Sturgis is the second largest national gathering of humanity (after Mardi Gras) and the world's largest motorcycle rally. Annually, the Sturgis motorcycle event is held during the first full week of August and attracts motorcycle enthusiasts from all walks of life who arrive on a variety of makes and models of motorcycles. Located in the Black Hills of South Dakota, an area about the size of Delaware, Sturgis is a small town of just over 5,000 residents. During August 6-12, over one-half million people from all over the world poured into the Black Hills and essentially doubled the population of the State. A beautiful area, attendees are attracted to the scenic landscape of the Black Hills and historical monuments like Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse and Devils Tower. In addition, historical sites include Custer State Park, Deadwood, Lead, and the Badlands. Following is the account of my trip to Sturgis.

August 2 (Thursday), 2001, I set out on a 10 day trip to Sturgis, South Dakota, for the 61st grand motorcycle event. After making my way through traffic in Chattanooga and Nashville (I always feel better after negotiating those two towns on two wheels) I made my way to a campground just outside St. Louis where I had planned to spend the night. Temperatures had been in the mid-90's during the afternoon but the sky was clear as nightfall approached so I wasn't too concerned about where I pitched my tent. I selected an exceptionally lush but low location and set up my camp, turning in about 10 pm. Well, it wasn't long before the breeze picked up, the lighting started and the rain began to pelt my tent. After about 15 minutes of thunderstorm activity, I felt the bottom of the tent and was surprised to find that it felt like a waterbed -- my tent was essentially floating with only the stakes holding it in place. Needless to say, when the storms abated, I had to unstake the tent, drag it to higher ground and restake it. I relearned a valuable tenting lesson -- location, location, location.

The next day, I made my way through St. Louis, a particularly malodorous city, without incident and continued on I-70 through Kansas City and into the plains of Kansas. Late in the afternoon, I arrived at Glen Elder State Park in 105 degrees of Kansas heat. The park was located on a reservoir and a nice breeze was blowing from the south. I watched, with a full 180 degrees of visibility, as the sun set in the west and a brilliant orange, great full moon rose slowly in the east -- it was breathtaking. The wind blew all night but it never did cool down.

Saturday, I rode into eastern Colorado and spent the night at a campground close to Brush, CO. The next day (Sunday), I crossed the South Platte River and rode north into western Nebraska. Just before I crossed the North Platte River, I rode by "Courthouse and Jail" rocks and "Chimney Rock". Both sites are vertical rock outcrops from an otherwise flat sandy landscape. After crossing the North Platte, I entered into an area of sand dunes, lightly covered by grass -- looking just like a links golf course that stretched for as far as the eye could see. Late that afternoon, I arrived in the Nebraska National Forest and spent the night in a State Park there.

Monday, I rode into the Black Hills and experienced a truly remarkable phenomenon. The density of motorcycles increased arithmetically as the distance from Sturgis was decreased. The whole of the Black Hills was like a giant anthill with streams of motorcyclists moving along the highways on some undefined mission. As I rode north, I began to catch up with other cyclists but the good news was that the traffic moved along at a good rate. It became the rule, I would always be riding in a crowd while at the Sturgis event. Starting in Hot Springs, motorcycles were parked on the sides of the streets and the rows of parked motorcycles increased in each town as I progressed north. About 30 miles from Sturgis, I arrived at Whispering Pines campground where I stayed for three nights -- a crowded but clean campground with a good host and hostess.

So, who attends a motorcycle event like this and why? The first person I had a chance to talk with at the campground was a retired Doctor (probably mid-60's) from Ocala, Florida. He had trailered his bike to Kansas City and left his wife to visit with family while he rode to Sturgis. Doc, like me, just wanted to be able to say that he had attended the world's largest motorcycle rally. Bruce and Don were both retired engineers from IBM and had ridden from Minneapolis, MN. They had been riding together for years and are regulars to Sturgis. Jay, a truck driver from Davenport, IA, and wife Becky were both riding; he rode a BMW, she rode a Harley-Davidson. This was their fourth year (their annual vacation) and they both love riding in the Black Hills. John (a plumber) and Jesse (a secretary) from a small town outside Minneapolis have been married for five years and hadn't attended since before their marriage. John had recently bought a new Harley-Davidson dresser and was drawn back to the Black Hills event. Dan (a newspaper photographer) and Bill (an insurance agent) from the Detroit area were first time Sturgis attendees. Ken and Jill, riding a BMW R1100GS (like mine), were returning to New Orleans via Sturgis after having been on the road since mid-June. An interesting couple, they had ridden to Alaska last year (two-up all the way to Prudhoe Bay) and he is planning on leaving for South America in November.

Tuesday, I went back down to Hot Springs, to see the Mammoth digs and temperatures reportedly reached 112 degrees -- needless to say it was hot. Wednesday, I rode to Hulett, WY, (close to Devils Tower) where the Sturgis meet annually moves for one day. I'm not sure why the rally moves to Hulett, but it was so crowded that I didn't stay. Besides, by the time I arrived, about 1:30 pm, there was no ice left in the town and it was already over 100 degrees. Wednesday night, a cold front brought terrific thunderstorms complete with air-to-air lightening that would make a July 4th fireworks show pale in comparison. And what a cold front, the next morning, the temperature was in the 40's, vapor was visible as I talked.

Thursday I left the Sturgis rally. I rode in the cold and through showers (through the front) to southern Nebraska - a small berg named Franklin - where the Nebraska BMW riders club was having a rally starting on Friday. I was a day early but the planning contingent from the club was already in place and invited me to stay the night and join them for dinner. A really cordial and generous group of people. The next day, I left early after coffee with my hosts, and rode to same campground outside St. Louis that I had stayed at on the way out west. As luck would have it, the cold front had passed through Franklin, NE, on Thursday night, so I rode in showers and cool weather all the way to St. Louis. Naturally, the front moved through St. Louis on Friday night bringing rain and cooler weather; I left on Saturday morning for the final leg of the trip riding in light showers until I reached Kentucky and some powerful thunderstorms on the leading edge of the cold front. Hard rain and gusty winds caused many automobiles to stop on the side of the road but after an hour of riding with the storms, I popped into clear air and the oppressive heat and humidity south of the front. Without incident, I made the ride back to Cleveland ending ten days of motorcycle camping. The trip was well worth my time and effort. After 4,300 miles, approximately 1,700 miles one way, I would do it again.

An observation: I saw more women riding motorcycles at Sturgis than I have ever seen before and in fact, Harley-Davidson reports that 20% of new motorcycle sales last year were to women.