See all photos from days 1 & 2
DAY ONE:
Our Sturgis adventure began with rain. We had dropped the dog at the kennel, and our daughter at her friend’s house, on Friday evening and were ready to leave early Saturday morning, August 4. No trouble getting up at 5 a.m. - I don’t think we really slept all that well to start with. With only minimal delays we were at the gas station at 6:30 and noticing the clouds in the west. We gassed up, then hopped onto I-80 west-bound… and within three miles, felt the water start to fall. Pulled off at a rest area to put on our rain suits (we knew we’d use them eventually - but, five miles from home??) then headed off again. The rain came down hard for probably 30 minutes - I was in the lead and could barely see, but I thought, ‘well this is riding in the rain so I’d better get used to it.’ As it turns out, it was really hard rain comparatively speaking, and Steve says I should have pulled over for it. Woops! We rode in the rain for awhile - and every time a truck passed all I could think of was, I’m drinking that filthy wash coming up off his tires! Eventually - mercifully - the rain slowed then stopped.
Our first gas stop was in Walnut, Iowa, about 85 miles from home. (Did I mention I’m on a Sportster? I never wanted to run out of gas, so I had planned stops about every 90 miles or so - some more, some less, but overall this plan would 
serve us well!) We took off our wet gear - my leather fingerless gloves had left a blue-ish dye all over my hands in a pattern resembling extensive tribal-style tattoos. Dried out a bit and then headed westward again, from I-80 to 680 west and then I-29 North. Next gas stop, “Dave’s World” at Onawa, Iowa… then on to Sioux City where we made an unplanned stop at the HD dealership to purchase a replacement nut to hold my luggage rack onto the fender - mine had vibrated off somewhere along the way already! Bought some t-shirts at Rooster’s HD and then onward to the next gas/lunch stop at Beresford, SD - the Super 8 here is where we’d be staying overnight on our return trip… another stop at the Sioux Falls, SD HD dealership off I-29 for a big “welcome bikers” party, where I saw my next bike: a 2007 Low Rider in Blue Denim & Vivid Black. We rolled into Mitchell, SD about 5 p.m. - 11 hours to go 350 miles! Our motel (reserved in advance) was a Best Western, quite decent with an ice-cold air conditioner (critical equipment for Steve) and across the street from a good steakhouse. After our steak dinner we were ready for bed, and asleep before 10 p.m.
DAY TWO:
The next morning we slept a little later than planned but discovered that this motel had another nice feature: a working waffle iron in the lobby with pre-measured cups of batter, plus butter and syrup to make a free, hearty breakfast. Re-packed the bikes and decided to run over to the tourist stop Mitchell is famous for: the Corn Palace, a big building covered in kernels of corn. We probably should have taken time to go inside for the complete tourist experience, but we were anxious to get on the road so we paused long enough to take some pictures and headed west again on I-90 around 10 a.m.
The weather for Day 2 was beautiful - hot, but not humid… nary a drop of rain as we rode! Gas stops were in Kennebec and Kadoka, and we made a scenic stop at the Lewis and Clark Rest Area outside Chamberlain, SD with a beautiful view of the Missouri River (L&C Slept Here). And of course we stopped in Wall, where we visited the must-see Wall Drug for lunch and a little souvenir shopping. (I am SUCH a sucker for these things - I LOVE Wall Drug with its cheesey fake-Indian beaded belts and Beanie-Baby-size Jackalopes…) A couple more photos, and we were on to Rapid City for our final gas stop before our destination.
I think we rolled past Sturgis on I-90 around 5 p.m. and got our first glimpse of what a true cluster-fuck it is… It was a 
great feeling to know we’d made it that far, but we still had an hour or so to go as we were staying in Belle Fourche which is about 30 miles farther north and a little west. We turned north onto US 34 just outside of Sturgis and took that straight into Belle Fourche - heavy crosswinds kept us on our toes for the last 17 miles up 34, and our little motel (The Raptor’s Nest Inn) was a welcome sight off to our right when we came to the Belle Fourche Junction. Garry and Shirley weren’t around when we arrived (they rolled in around 7:30 as an evening thunderstorm was ending) so we ordered a pizza and got unpacked. The motel was interesting - it’s run by a young couple who host “dinosaur digs” throughout the rest of the summer - he’s a paleontologist, she’s a former licensed massage-therapist-turned-fossil-restoration artist - anyway, the rooms had cute dinosaur themes and king-size beds… well okay, some had BUNK BEDS, but *we* had a king bed. Big *whew* on that one! At first we weren’t too impressed with the accommodations - this room cost the same as the Best Western from the night before - but as the week went on, the little AC unit was more than adequate and they even left it on for us throughout the day so our room was always cool when we rolled in. The only thing they could have done better was provided bigger bath soap, but we sure could solve that problem by making a run to the Family Dollar Store down the road. So overall, no complaints about the Raptor’s Nest Inn, and the owners were very interesting folks to talk with!
I noted the mileage for the first two days - 692 - and we were ready for our first trip down to Sturgis coming up on DAY THREE!
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Monday, August 7 was our first trip down to Sturgis itself. Our friends, having stayed in this same motel last year, had found a route into Sturgis that was longer but had less traffic than the obvious I-90 path, so we took Hwy 212 out of Belle Fourche to Hwy 79, which took us straight past Bear Butte and deposited us at Thunder Alley where the Rat’s Hole Custom Bike Show would be held on Friday the 11th. Once we got to the road going into Sturgis alongside Thunder Alley, the traffic slowed down to stop-and-go for the mile or so on into town. We didn’t even try to park on Main Street, but instead parked in front of a house about two blocks away and walked in. The bustle and noise were awesome - yes there really were that many bikes!
good position to relieve the burning in his hip and leg; I’m honestly not sure how he did it - he dug down into that reserve of stubbornness, I think, left over from his Marine Corps days, and just did it.
We took the same route home past Thunder Alley, up 79 past Bear Butte. We stopped at a historical marker near the Butte to take a few pictures, then headed back in to Belle Fourche under the threat of more rain. After dinner we talked about the fact that, overall, we were a little disappointed - was it really just a bunch of vendors and bikes trying to move down Main Street at a snail’s pace? Maybe we were just crabby because Steve was in pain. And, of course, if someone had asked us “Well, what were you expecting??”, we wouldn’t have had an intelligent answer. At any rate, we decided that we’d only go back into town on Friday, for the custom bike show. The rest of the trip would be scenic rides, starting with the day-long adventure down to Mt. Rushmore, planned for Day Four.
WOW, this site has achieved some nice milestones in the past couple of months. Back in May we broke the 1,500 visits per month mark, and now for June and July total visits have been over 2,300 per month - that’s awesome and I really do thank all the wonderful folks who stop in here to read my ramblings and peruse the pictures. Y’all are SWEET!! I’m also excited to note that, due to my efforts to optimize the site for search engines (while not CHEATING said search engines!), the site now appears in the TOP TEN GOOGLE RESULTS for two very popular search phrases. That’s FIRST PAGE Google results, out of over 900,000 possible site matches for those particular search phrases! (A picture of yours truly also comes up on page one of certain Google Image searches!) Anyway, just wanted to say THANKS for stopping by! I will try to keep updating on a regular basis so there’s always something new to come back for!
We set out in the morning from our motel in Belle Fourche. I was the one with the plan, so I was in the lead. Steve and Garry were going along for the full ride, but Shirley was going to spend the day in Deadwood, gambling. We took Highway 85 south out of Belle Fourche down to I-90, east briefly to pick up 85 South again and down into Deadwood. I must say I thought that last stretch of 85 was breathtaking - a wonderful sweeping curve down into town with pine-covered hills… it just felt very different (already!) than the cornfields of the Iowa countryside. We paused in Deadwood to make sure Shirley found a safe parking spot (there were thousands of bikes there that day as well) and bid farewell for the day, then followed 85 South til we picked up 385 South. Paused for a bathroom and photo break at Pactola Reservoir - kind of funny, because being in the lead but unfamiliar with the area, I pulled into a nicely-manicured turn-out that had a bathroom building with one mens’ and one womens’ stall. There were lots of bikes parked there, and lines for both stalls. Garry mentioned, as we were getting ready to go again, that just a hundred yards up the road was a really nice, full-service visitor center. He and Shirley had done last year exactly what I’d done this year - pulled into the first available driveway, not knowing that more and better services were available just around the bend. Back on the road, we took 385 South through Hill City - a slow ride down Main Street as there were ALSO lots of bikes there - and took a turn-off for Mt. Rushmore at Highway 244. This road was beautiful as well, and we soon came upon Rushmore.
had changed quite a bit. For one thing they had built a three-level parking garage where before there had only been a flat parking lot. They had also built up the entrance and walkway that lead to the viewing area, and there were now concession stands (beverages and ice cream) just outside the gift shop and restaurant. These things hadn’t been here in ‘93. We walked up to the viewing area and gazed at the monumental carving - I believe our Native Americans consider it a disgrace to put the faces of men on Nature’s mountain, but I for one feel it is quite beautiful and a moving tribute to the men who lead us through our Revolution, quest for independence, Civil War and pioneering of the West. We had been in the viewing area for about 20 minutes when we were treated to a “mountain rain shower,” so we ambled back down to the Gift shop where I purchased some souvenirs. We paused under a canopy to check the maps and it began raining in earnest at about that time. When we thought it seemed to be slowing down we headed to the parking garage, where our bikes and gear were dry. As we were suiting up in the rain gear the skies opened up big-time for about 10 minutes. When we eventually pulled out of the garage, the sun was out and it was extremely humid.
After one of the tunnels, we pulled into a turn-out to take a break and some pictures along with several other bikes, so we were on the side of the road just beyond the tunnel opening. The street was still wet, and the road was a blind curve on the downhill into the tunnel. I was getting the camera out of my saddlebag when I heard a skidding-on-pavement noise, and I looked up just in time to see a VRod slide right out from under its rider and skid to a stop on its side, and the rider go tumbling down a short embankment. I gasped, and he jumped right back up shouting, “I’m alright, I’m alright,” scrambling back to his bike in the road and trying to lift it. We looked at the people coming behind him down the road, expecting at least one of them to be going too fast and crash into him. Fortunately everyone was paying attention and it only took him a couple minutes to get the bike re-started. He was on his way within moments, and I couldn’t help but think how lucky he’d been. He hadn’t appeared to be injured, though he was wearing a tank shirt and shorts and no helmet. And, no one wrecked as he worked to get his bike re-started.
We left the buffalo behind (and by the way, the song is correct: you CAN’T rollerskate in a buffalo herd) and found our way out of the park and back onto 16A, which we took briefly west and then turned left on 87 North, the Needles Highway. Needles is so named because of the sharp, pointed rock formations that are visible from several points near and far from this road. It’s equally as beautiful as Iron Mtn. Road with more tunnels, S-curves and switchbacks to keep a rider focused and challenged. We paused for a break at one particular turnout that had a beautiful view of the Needles formations, then continued on to a point where we were actually on a pass (with one-lane tunnel) through the needles. There was a large turnout area where you could stop to photograph these very unusual formations. It was extremely crowded, and it was at that point that I began to feel like we were really missing a LOT because of the traffic. We stopped for a few pictures of one formation called Eye of the Needle, so named because a long narrow hole in the rock looks exactly like the implement it’s named for. I noticed immediately - as I’m sure others have before me - that if you take a few steps to the left and take a similarly-angled photo, the rock formation actually looks like female genitalia. (I’ve included both pictures, one of the Eye of the Needle and One of Vulva Rock, for comparison purposes.)
tunnels, we were beginning to get tired of “working so hard” at having fun - make no mistake, we were on vacation, but it IS mentally exhausting and physically challenging to ride so many miles of these kinds of roads in such heavy traffic! This situation is made even more challenging by what the map doesn’t show you: that all these twists and turns are often on an uphill, followed by an immediate turn to the downhill. It required far more “management” and thinking than I had anticipated to ride the roads safely. So by the time we left Eye of the Needle we were anxious to be on the way home. I was calculating that we had about 80-some miles to go, and it was already about 5 p.m. - I hadn’t thought we would be gone that long!
Well if it’s Wednesday of Sturgis Rally Week, it must be time to go to Devil’s Tower. That’s because Wednesday used to be “No Panties Wednesday” in Hulett, WY, which is just east of Devil’s Tower, so of course everyone would stop in Hulett for a view of no panties and then press on to Devil’s Tower. For whatever reason, Hulett doesn’t officially condone “no panties Wednesday” anymore, but everyone still goes to Devil’s Tower on that day. And, despite advice from several online friends encouraging us to go to Devil’s Tower on any day other than Wednesday, one member of our party said, “You HAVE to go on Wednesday - everyone goes on Wednesday.” So on Wednesday, we took off from Belle Fourche, headed west on Highway 34. In just a few miles we approached a “Wyoming Welcomes You” sign, so of course we had to stop for a photo… didn’t pause long, and soon 34 turned into a very nice scenic road with lots of great sweepers. Unfortunately, it was again such heavy traffic that enjoying the scenery was nearly impossible. The first sign that Hulett might be crowded was the fact that motorcycles were lining both shoulders of the two-lane highway a half-mile outside of town and all the way in. We arrived in Hulett and rode through on the main street - stop and go just like going into Sturgis had been on Monday, only it was a smaller and tighter space so it felt more claustrophobic. I didn’t notice “no panties” anywhere - maybe the guys did, they were probably on the lookout - but we got through Hulett after nearly losing our leader and shot out the other end, pressing on toward Devil’s Tower. 
had really heated up while we were en route. And there behind the building was that fabled formation (”gonna build… gonna build a mountain in my living room…”) … looking a little like it was caught in a tourist trap, hiding as it was behind a giant souvenir shop… but still, very damned impressive. Did I mention it was hot? At least, I was over-heated and cranky by the time we arrived… spent a little time shopping in the souvenir store, where I learned that DT is actually a failed volcano eruption - a giant bubble of seering lava that attempted to erupt, but ‘froze’ before it bubbled over, within the earth… and the earth around it eroded away, leaving the “tower” we see today. Of course this didn’t just happen last week or last century, it happened millions of years ago… and in fact, the Black Hills area is the result of erosion so it’s not too surprising to learn that’s how the tower was formed. Still, it’s almost incomprehensible to think the earth used to be that much TALLER, and that this tower was in fact a column inside the earth. As a tribute to this monumental achievement of nature, I selected a couple of t-shirts and a trinket for my daughter, and joined the rest of our small group for lunch across the road in the campground restaurant.
At any rate, we left the Tower and took a very different route home: instead of going through Hulett again, we turned off just outside of town and took Highway 212 north and east back to Belle Fourche. This route was much longer, but almost desolate as far as other traffic. Easy to feel you could be in a lot of trouble if you were traveling alone, simply because no one would come along for quite some time if you needed help. The views were beautiful and far-reaching, though, and the road also took us through a tiny corner of Montana (another “Welcome” sign to photograph!) where we found a great little convenience store to gas up and take a Powerade break. The last leg of the trip took us straight into Belle Fourche at the north end of town. This day was probably the least enjoyable of the whole trip - by the end of it I was hot, crabby and frustrated at feeling like we were going lots of places but not really being there. Devil’s Tower is an awesome sight, no doubt about it - but I didn’t feel I’d really seen it. Undaunted, we turned in early after discussing our plans for the next day - a day-long trip to Spearfish Canyon and Deadwood.
We left Belle Fourche heading south on Hwy 85, a short 10-mile jaunt down to Spearfish. In Spearfish we picked up the Canyon Road near the east end of town and headed south. Even more than Iron Mountain Road and Needles Highway, Spearfish Canyon Road showed off the unique landscape of the Black Hills: sheer, fossil-rich bluffs topped with evergreen Ponderosa and Spruce pine trees, and Spearfish Creek ambling along the side of the road with its crystal-clear mountain water. The road is a two-lane path of gentle turns and sweeping curves, always with a beautiful bluff around the bend. Again, though, because of the traffic and the unpredictable frequency of the turn-outs, it was impossible to know when a photo opportunity would present itself. We 
did get a few very good pictures (see gallery linked above), but I also located 
Fires and floods were a fact of life in Deadwood’s early history, so the original #10 (named for it’s location on the original city plat map) where “the assassin Jack McCall” shot and killed Wild Bill Hickok in August, 1876 is long since gone. While the #10 relocated to a better spot up the street following an 1879 fire, in its original location is now a small tavern called the Eagle Bar which tells the story of Wild Bill’s last moments (and McCall’s subsequent trials for the killing) in an interpretive exhibit and daily re-enactment. We drank a toast to Wild Bill and browsed the exhibit, then left the Eagle Bar in search of lunch. Despite our love-to-hate relationship with Ian McShane as the sleazy and murderous Al Swearingen on HBO’s “Deadwood” TV series, The Gem today proved a little too swanky for our lunchtime needs so we had cheeseburgers and buffalo burgers across the street in Wild Bill’s Cafe. Sitting at lunch, we talked about how it was difficult to really become immersed in the history of the town when the streets were lined with gleaming motorcycles and the casinos rang with 
the notes of computerized slot machines. Still, it was interesting to note that the entire town is a National Historic District, with modern gambling funding virtually all of the restoration of the town’s buildings. After lunch we stopped in a few shops along Main Street, where I bought a couple of books that might tell us more.
We stopped briefly in the small gift shop adjoining the cemetery and then left Mt. Moriah behind, deciding to ride Spearfish Canyon again in the return direction. Again, though the turn-out locations were unpredictable, we stopped a couple of times for photos and then cruised into Spearfish, where we picked up 85 North for the short 10-mile ride back to Belle Fourche. We took the opportunity of the remaining daylight to return to Highway 212 at the north end of town, where we rode a few miles west of town and took pictures of each other on the bikes. We got some very pretty pictures as the sun began to set, then ended the day with supper at a very good steakhouse in Belle Fourche. It was a day that peaked my interest in learning the true history of Deadwood (as opposed to the HBO version). For our last day of leisure, we would return to Sturgis for the Rat’s Hole Custom Bike Show, then (hopefully) return to our rooms early to pack for the trip home.
Friday was our last day in the Black Hills, so our plan was to head back down to Sturgis to see the Rat’s Hole Custom Bike Show at Thunder Road, and try to be back mid-afternoon so we could start packing the bikes for the ride home beginning Saturday. We took the same route into town we’d taken on Monday, past Bear Butte and entering the rally area just past the Thunder Road parking lot. The day was already heating up by the time we got parked, and would eventually top out at about 111 degrees. But, as they say, “it’s a dry heat.” Somehow that’s supposed to mean it doesn’t *feel* as hot as humid heat, but 111 is hot and I don’t care who y’are. Anyhoo, parked the bikes and took in some vendors around the perimeter of the building, including an artist who does custom chrome engraving through his business, Chrome Fusion. Steve had considered buying a USMC derby cover from them at one time, but didn’t have a good idea of the quality level. After seeing them in Sturgis, there was no question that every piece was high quality and highly custom. I stopped into yet another Hot Leathers tent and this time purchased a nice braided vest that fits me a whole lot better than the patch-leather one I bought a couple years ago. We also browsed a bit in the Bunny Ranch booth… I almost bought a t-shirt that said “There’s no business like ho business,” but chickened out.
featured 24 of the industry’s best bike builders, and artwork by photographers Timothy White and Michael Lichter, bike painter Joe Richardson and multi-media artist Robert Pradke. I especially enjoyed looking at the restored Harley baggers, and there were a couple bikes painted in a 60’s psychedelic style that I really liked. Of course, there was something special about each and every bike. We saw the Indian Larry “twisted downtube” bike, and there was one bike that had all these beautiful panels of engraved chrome that looked like leather tooling that drew me in. Steve was very interested in the mechanics of a gear-drive bike, but probably the most unusual bike we saw was one where the frame looked like a crouching skeleton, arms outstretched to create the forks. I enjoyed the ‘rat bikes’ too, with all the junk attached to them in such a random fashion that it actually looked artful. These bikes are the cream of the crop in the custom world - some of them truly seemed more sculpture than motorcycle.
We didn’t stick around long enough to see the trophies awarded, but the show was certainly well worth the visit. Around 2 p.m. we said good-bye to Sturgis and headed back to Belle Fourche, where we spent the afternoon figuring out how to pack an additional third of “stuff” into our luggage. One would think this would be the end of our adventures, with only a long and boring ride home ahead of us. As it turned out, there were still a couple of challenges awaiting us for the last two days of our trip.
On most vacations, by the time it’s time to go home, you’re ready. Ready to sleep in your own bed, ready to get the long return trip behind you. We had a slightly different mindset for the return trip from the Black Hills, considering the last two days to be just as much a part of the vacation as the first two had been.
through a crosswind react to each other, and how to handle my bike, but I can’t say it was a lot of fun. First of all, it seemed everyone was going home that day: bikes, pickups with trailers, motorhomes, 18-wheelers. Now I’m no speed demon, and the crosswinds in fact made whatever speed you were really going feel like about 40 mph. But there were times, like on inclines, where we would come up behind another vehicle and it seemed logical to pass in the left-hand lane. Passing other bikes was not a huge deal. Passing the pickups with trailered bikes wasn’t bad either. But the motorhomes and 18-wheelers - well, there came a point where I decided I just wasn’t going to pass them anymore.
The next morning brought rain, and although we dawdled awhile to see if it would let up, it didn’t. One of the Outlaws politely offered to move his bike so we could get out to leave, so we suited up and took off around 9 a.m. It was a day of on-again/off-again rain showers, but it was far more comfortable than the wind had been the day before. One tip we tried here that worked was that we wore our bandanas over our faces to keep from drinking truck wash in the rain and to keep the rain itself from pelting our cheeks. This looked weird but worked very well. Only two gas stops on our last day - one at Onawa and one at Walnut (where we met a guy heading home to Connecticut, who had left Sturgis that morning and hoped to make it past Chicago by the end of the day - our little 250-mile day sure seemed puny by comparison!). Before we knew it we were on I-235: the freeway that cuts through Des Moines, nearly home. I took special care not to have any problems in the last 10 miles of the trip, and we pulled into our driveway around 3:30 p.m. where we were greeted enthusiastically by our 12-year-old daughter.
