A very interesting day. We left the Badlands fairly early and headed towards Sturgis, getting as far as Rapid City, SD, before stopping. As we were approaching the city, we saw the Black Hills Harley-Davidson dealership just off the highway. Its parking lot was filled with large vendor trucks and bikes were streaming in from every direction; we followed. The dealership had set up a motorcycle show with many major parts, accessories and services vendors. It was at least as big as the vendor show at Americade, the motorcycle rally we attended in June in New York.
On entry, free of course, the first booth we came to was Rapid City Coffee, an espresso bar in a trailer. They take their espresso seriously here, only triple shots or quint shots were on the menu. They said they'd make a smaller one if you asked. I went for the triple iced latte. It was quite good—and it was free. We'd been talking to one of the vendors, a fellow from a company called Arlen Ness, a maker of Harley and Victory custom parts. He was in front of us in line. When I went to pay for mine, the barista informed me that it had been paid for. Thank you Arlen Ness. Too bad they don't make BMW GS farkles (accessories for those non-bikers).
We wandered through the exhibitor displays, all Harley-Davidson stuff, except for the giant truck-based toy hauler RVs, then continued on to Sturgis. The event was already bigger than Americade and we were still 25 miles away.
Entering Sturgis, we fell into line with the mass of motorcycles heading into town. It didn't look promising for parking as we passed Main Street which was blocked off for anything but motorcycles. The only parking we saw was a lot where it was $5 for bikes, $20 for cars. Who knows what they would have charged for Speedy, a 19-foot van. We decided to go around the block through a residential neighborhood and, amazingly, found an on-street spot for Speedy not more than two blocks from Main Street.
Off to see the sights we went. Main Street was completely filled with motorcycles, down both sides and two rows in the middle and it wasn't even noon yet. We wandered down the west side where the stores and vacant lots were all converted to selling rally-related stuff. Too many tee shirts to choose from. I went for the official model. Ellen was overwhelmed by the choice and gave up, not being a fan of skulls, crosses and guns. Lots of other accessories were available, not to mention the tattoo parlors, each with a nubile young thing, dressed in not much more than body paint, inviting you in or you could just watch through the windows and wince at the work being done.
Tee shirt bought, pictures taken, tattoos avoided, we headed to the next block, Lazelle Street, looking for lunch. We ended up at one of the big saloons, Easyriders, for the pizza, pasta and salad buffet. They had a few rather strange takes on pizza, one with BBQ sauce and beans (which tasted better than it sounds) and a dessert pizza with jam, peanuts and chocolate chips. As we walked back to Main Street and down the east side, we found many better places to have had lunch, but it was too late. The rule is you find the great place right after you've eaten the not-so-great lunch.
After watching stunt riders for a bit, we decided to push on to North Dakota, as the temperature was nearing the triple digits, even though we hadn't found the big vendor exhibits yet. We hustled back to Speedy, cranked up the engine and the air conditioner and were on our way. As we drove down Lazelle Street. towards the highway, we found the vendor exhibits, about two miles of them on both sides of the road ... still not a BMW farkle to be seen.
Once we got past Spearfish, SD, and onto US 85 North, the density of motorcycles on the road markedly decreased to an occasional group out for a ride or heading to Sturgis. Our foray into the Harley-Davidson maelstrom was over and it was onto a different type of wildness, National Parks. After about 200 miles of very straight roads, we entered the South Unit of Theodore Roosevelt NP and found a site at the Cottonwood Campground in, what else, a grove of cottonwoods along the Little Missouri River. Time for dinner, a ranger talk (rambling and forgettable) and this journal. We've finished the outbound long-distance travel part of this trip (with the Sturgis detour) and we're both pretty tired of driving.
Some Photos
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