I'm late as usual, but painting bikes for 24 years has given me muchopractice at being late. In fact, Eddie Trotta musta gone on 20 minutesbitching about painters when I saw him at Mike Lichter's Show in RapidCity. In fact, he's even trying to do some of the actual artwork on hisThunder Cycles, himself. The guy can race boats and horses, play a meanpiano, so if he turned out to be a halfway good painter, I wouldn’t besurprised.
I got to talk to many cool custom m/c industry people at Sturgis. Hell,everyone was there. You can just be crossing the street and see Billy Lanecoming from the opposite direction or be at Mt Rushmore and run into BigMike of BMC. Or riding along the interstate to find Kendall Johnson ridingalongside. What a rush that was. Maybe you could be gassing up your bikeand right across the pumps is Paul Sr of OCC.
Sturgis was an overload of unreal scenery, everyday folks who become newfriends, famous people, and a kaleidoscope of bikes. People were eitherburning up the street or burning up the film. You couldn't look anywherewithout thinking, 'I need to take a picture of that.' The little miningtowns are full of beautifully restored buildings with bikes lining thestreets, vivid sunsets over the vast open prairie. I couldn’t stay in myhotel room, there was too much to see and do. Sturgis is the kind of eventthat is alive with energy. No matter where I looked or where I went, it wasawesome.
The nights got downright weird. First there was the night I lost a wholebox of Horse issues off my bike. It's 2am, pitch black, magazines scatteredover about 1/8th mile of canyon road, I was shitting bricks. Cops are gonnacome along any minute and bust me for Felony Littering. Sure thing, I'mrunning around picking them up and suddenly it's blue light city. But theywere cool, helped me pick them up and didn't even glance once at myOUT-OF-DATE bike tag. I was WIDE awake after that one. On a very windynight I rode into Sturgis with the Devil Dolls as wicked lighting stormscracked over the hills in the distance. Earlier in the evening I had foundmyself sitting at a fancy press dinner put on my Corbin and PerformanceMachine. I ended up with tablemates like Goth Girl and Sonny Barger. EddieTrotta was nodding off at the table next door and I was about to fling apat of butter at him but Tom Langdon of Rumble Customs looked at me like Iwas nuts. So I buttered my roll and behaved. Eddie looked like he had justfinished working on a bike that spat oil all over him. He said he wasstarting a new fashion trend. It was a crazy night. Flame and I ended up inthe supermarket buying fresh fruit (don't ask.)
Another night, I was hanging at the Discovery Build Off party at the FullThrottle Saloon watching as Billy and Larry blew a mile high column ofsmoke side by side in the burnout pit. People are going nuts over Billy; hecan't keep up with all the autographs. A few nights later, a bunch of usare at the Broken Spoke and hardly anyone comes up to him. Nice, quietevening in such contrast to the previous. But that’s the rhythm of Sturgis,insanity one moment, calm the next. One minute you're riding across the'endless' plain in blistering heat, a few exits down you're deep in thetall, cool canyons- a vivid rollercoaster ride from the seat of a scooter.Now Jose is used to all this stuff. He's so jaded. Just kidding, notreally, who can get tired of beautiful scenery all the time, especiallywhen it poses in Hustler?
Jose and his family opened their door to me and made me feel right at home.Many thanks to them, people like that are worth going thousands of miles tosee. I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. An endless line of friendswould stop by each night, making for interesting conversion. From Hawaii toNashville to Brazil, that place had a definite international atmosphere.And the food, Deacon from Hawaii's Pro-Street grilling up a storm of ribs.Another night it was mouth watering Caribbean burgers. Plus the food intown wasn't half bad either. I recommend Kevin Costner's Jake's CafÈ inDeadwood. But my favorite restaurant was in the Spearfish Holiday Inn ofall places. Who woulda known? And great prices too. Scoff if ya want, buttry it out next year and tell me I'm wrong. (If their chef quits I'mscrewed.)
Jose covered just about everything we did in his report. The one thing hedidn't do was ride at night. I shouldn't have either, but the cool nightcalled to me, so I took it slow and easy, carefully watching for glowingeyes of deer who plague many riders. A few did jump out and cross the roadin front of me, but I was doing about 45 and had no problem stopping. Manyothers didn't and sadly paid the price. But the night sky out here isintoxicating. The air is so clear, it seems as tho you can reach up andtouch the stars. The black sky is so full of them, there's not muchblackness. Deep in the canyons, the only source of light comes fromthousands of light years away. That kind of realization reaches right intoa person's soul. And there again lies the sharp contrasts of this place-awild, mad dash of daylight activities to soothing the psyche at night. It'seasy to see why the Native Americans regarded these hills as their holyland. It's a very healing place.
I met so many people. Folks just tend to reach out and leave attitudesbehind. On our ride with Mike Lichter, I met Jennifer, a cute littleredheaded friend of his who takes part in his photo shoot ride every year.She's even in his Sturgis book. I saw her and some friends on the streetsof Deadwood my last night there. Like we had been friends forever, sheinvited me to sit down and watch the world go by. She knew many people whopassed and some stayed a bit and joined us in our observations.
Now I've heard stories for years about Sturgis. People going on and onabout what a wonderful experience it is. I should have listened to them.Now I'm the one, going about it like I was bewitched into a cult. Yes,That’s what it must be, the cult of Sturgis.Sturgis is an event people tend to ride to. Didn't see as many trailers onthe way home as I saw loaded bikes.The only thing missing was Angie. But she'll be there next year. I can'teven imagine. I'm glad it's a whole year away; I'll need that much time torest up.
