Ridden to Sturgis, South Dakota? Planning on going? I wanted to share this story for several reasons, one because it’s February 2013 and our Sturgis countdown is underway. Not a day will pass for the next six months that we won’t dream about our annual road trip. Secondly, because so many people talk about riding to Sturgis like it’s a faraway dream, a near impossible bucket list item that maybe, hopefully, they will have the chance to do someday. Some are amazed at the distance we cover in two days, 675 miles the first and 650 the next. The 2013 Sturgis Rally will be my eighth visit, and the fifth year that I’ve ridden my own bike. Pick a year and just go. The experience is one you’ll never forget and you’ll likely go back every chance you get. We’ve been fortunate to be able to take two weeks in recent years past, rather than one, and it’s the epitome of our year. There is so much to see, you won’t do it all in one trip. Another reason you’ll return.
In our case, the trip is about 1300 miles each way. It sounds far, but keep in mind that your ride will be sectioned into stretches as far as your gas tank will get you, in our case, approximately 200 miles. It goes quick, and next thing you know, you’re stopping again to gas up, eat, use the facilities, all opportunities to stretch your legs. The ride out is nice because as you move from Eastern to Central, to eventually the Mountain time zone, you gain time. From I-94 east out of Metro Detroit, we pick up 80/90 outside Chicago, and eventually I-80 across Iowa. Our halfway mark is Walnut, Iowa, at the far west end of the state. We stay at the same hotel, and last year I was lucky enough to scoop up the last copy of Thunder Roads Iowa from a local bar next door! Hehehe. Tired, sore, sunburned, and beyond excited, our trip continues to 29 north into South Dakota and eventually I-90, a long, windy last leg of our trip. Crossing the Missouri River in Chamberlain is when we really feel like we’re getting close, the landscape changes from flat fields and prairie to vast, sculpted hills and buttes. The wind can be fierce, with nothing out there to block it, and there are also few overpasses to find shelter from the rain. We stay in Spearfish, South Dakota, Exit 14 off I-90, and our excitement builds as we click down the miles.
The trip is affordable because we camp, and carry everything on our bikes. If you can’t carry much, UPS will be your best friend. Many accommodations during rally week will receive and possibly ship back your boxes of gear. (Keep the important stuff with you though!) Everything we need fits fine on our two tour bikes; tent, tarps, air mattress, clothes. We take enough clothes for one week and do laundry at the campground halfway through, (minus a few shirts, to make room for Rally wear!). We’re okay with camping, we’ve got all we need with the amenities offered by the campground (showers, beer, ice, laundry) in addition to all the restaurants and gas stations right outside the park. Two weeks of rustic camping is about the price of one night in a hotel during rally week. Another reason I’m perfectly fine with my tent.
Unlike probably most riders, we really don’t go to Sturgis for the party. Not that we don’t enjoy a good biker event, but the riding country out here is INCREDIBLE. We come here to spend every minute we can exploring the gorgeous scenery of the Black Hills, Wyoming and Montana, and being in that indescribable Zen moment that every real rider knows, as the wind blows back your hair and the sun bakes your skin. (You’re smiling, aren’t you?) Yes, it’s pretty cool to ride down Main St. in Sturgis in the sunshine surrounded by thousands of bikes. It’s exhilarating to be in the middle of the mother of all biker parties with girls in bikinis and the burnout pits, enjoying a cold one. But our souls are led elsewhere. The Badlands, Spearfish Canyon, Custer State Park, even just the open highway where the Black Hills line the horizon for miles and the landscape is so massive that you feel like a flea on an elephant’s ass. This is why we come.
If you can swing it, go. Months turn into years and we’re not getting younger. Who knows what next year holds. Hope to see you in August!