Saturday, August 8th was a beautiful day, at least in the morning. Jay and I went down to the strip so we could check things out in the light of day for a change. We also took advantage of the opportunity to do our last bit of shopping for both ourselves and the folks back home. We took some more pictures, got something to eat, and arranged to meet up with Tom and his dad again. Our last day of riding would take us to the Crazy Horse Memorial in the Black Hills.
I'm embarrassed to admit I knew nothing of this immense project until Tom and his father recommended it as one of the things we should see while in Sturgis. In short, begun in June of 1948 by sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski ( a native of Boston by the way), the Crazy Horse memorial is the world's largest mountain sculpture. When completed it will dwarf Mount Rushmore and in my opinion will likely become a modern "Wonder of the World." Funded entirely from private donations, there is much Native American history and a great story connected with this memorial, so I urge you to click the link above and check out their website for more information.
This is a scale model (approx 1/34 the size of the mountain) of what the memorial will look like when completed. Even though Korczak himself died in 1982, his wife and children continue his work from this and many other scale models he left behind. As it has taken all these years just to complete the face, it is unlikely I will live to see the memorial completed, but I hope my kids will be able to take their kids to see this amazing human achievement one day. After touring this awesome memorial, we wanted to hit the Wildlife Loop in Custer State Park next to wrap up the day, but the sky was turning BLACK. Knowing how wild the weather can get, and how fast, we thought it best to head back to Sturgis pronto. We caught rain from Deadwood back to town, but we had raingear so it wasn't bad.
The morning of Sunday the 9th arrived and it was time to pack up. It was raining hard, so we asked for and got a late check out from the Star Lite. By noon the rain had passed and as we rode out of Sturgis for final time in '09, the sun came back out for the beginning of our journey East. Near Presho, the rain came back for a short time, but it didn't last. We made it to Mitchell, SD, for our first night's stay at a Best Western, and had our best road meal of the whole trip across the way at Chef Louie's Steak House and Lounge. I had some pan sauteed Walleye that was probably the best piece of fish I've ever had in my life. I know - why order fish in a steak house? I just had to have some seafood after way too much red meat in Sturgis.
Our next night got us stuck in Wisconsin Dells, "the Waterpark Capitol of the World." Believe me when I say that a honky-tonk, 'tourist trap' was the last place we wanted to spend the night, but the sunset overruled us. Jay and I were shocked to find that the nearest watering hole to our Day's Inn was a place called Nig's Bar. My first thought was, "Nig's?? You've got to be kidding me." At the bar, we noticed they sold tee shirts that read, I HAD A SWIG AT NIG'S - click the link to go to their website where you can buy one if you want. Jay and I were horrified. Wear a shirt in or near Boston that says "Nig's" on it, or any other fascimile of the "N" word, and you're just asking to get beaten to death, stabbed or shot.
Come to find out, it depends what part of the country you hail from as to just how much you think you know about people. Jay told me he knew someone who went to Wisconsin to visit either friends or family, and he got off the plane wearing a shirt that had "Mook's Hockey Club" written across the front of it. "Mook" is defined by Webster's as "slang : a foolish, insignificant, or contemptible person." Well, Webster's notwithstanding, I guess whoever met him at the airport was horrified, pulled him to one side and said:
"What the hell are you doing? You have to turn that tee shirt inside-out right now...quick...before somebody sees it!"
Of course this guy had no idea why his shirt would be offensive to anyone and demanded an explanation. Well, apparently in that part of the midwest, "mook," is considered a derogatory reference to black people. I'd never heard that either. So, under the circumstances, we thought it best to leave the Nigs in Wisconsin Dells (we didn't buy a shirt), and the Mooks in Boston. I still laugh when I think about it. After a few "swigs at Nig's," we found a restaurant across the way where we got a good meal, and made it back to our room without incident.
By the end of the day on Tuesday the 11th we had made it to Maumee, Ohio. Luck stayed with us for eateries, and we enjoyed another great meal and a few beers at a Buffalo Wild Wings Restaurant. I hope they open up some franchises in Mass; it's a good place. As an added bonus, the Red Sox were playing Detroit, so we got to watch the game on the widescreen at the bar!
Our last day on the road, Wednesday the 12th, was a little crazy. We wanted to make Canajoharie, NY so we could enjoy another evening at the Charter House, but it was over 530 miles away. After riding 500 miles, we were in Utica and daylight was short, so we decided to stay there. We didn't know there was some monster truck show or something in town. There were no rooms available, so we got back on the highway and rode like hell for Canajoharie, but some things just aren't meant to be. Something made me call the restaurant while stopped for gas, they were closed, daylight was all but gone, and we were in heavy deer country. We didn't want another night at the dumpy Rodeway Inn since our restaurant was closed, so we decided to go one more exit.
Rapidly fading daylight left us no choice but to pull off in Fultonville, making our total for the day just over 550 miles. We were tired, hungry, and hoping our luck for finding lodging with a good restaurant nearby would hold out for one more night. It didn't take long for us to realize our luck had run out. There were two choices for rooms, and we went to the Econo Lodge first. This nasty guy with greasy hair in a wife-beater and sandals comes out of the office while we're still on the bikes, looks at us and says, "Rooms?"
I nodded - hesitantly - and Nasty Guy comes back with, "Well I can give you a room, but there's no water. We had a pipe break or something and I had to shut it all off."
Jay and I just looked at each other. Could it get any worse? Unfortunately, the answer was "Yes, it can."
The only other lodging available was a TravelCenters of America truck stop down the street. They charged us $68 for a room that made the dumpy Rodeway Inn of Canajoharie look like the freaking Ritz in comparison. Huge stains on the worn carpet greeted us when we opened the door, and I wouldn't have been surprised to see a chalk-outline of a body on the floor. The air conditioner cover was broken and hanging off the unit. It smelled like a wet ashtray. Neither of us were brave enough to turn down the beds - never mind get into them - we just slept on top fully dressed. Yes it was that bad, but at least there was nothing else moving in the room besides us, not that I could see anyway. There was no steak house across the street either. We ate at a McDonald's. Take my advice, if you're ever traveling through New York State on I-90, stay away from there.
The only good thing about staying in Fultonville was that we were now only 200 miles from home. We got up and out of the No-Tell Motel early Thursday morning, and at least Fultonville can boast they have a Dunkin' Donuts. I hadn't had a decent cup of coffee in a week. That's the one thing I don't understand about other parts of this country; how can people live anywhere that a good cup of joe isn't to be found? Anyway, we had some rain for our last leg of the ride home, but it wasn't bad. Seeing the Welcome To Massachusetts sign was a great comfort, even though it does say Deval Patrick, Governor, on it.
I called Susan from a rest area on the Mass Pike and was able to meet her for lunch at her work. When I got off the bike in the parking lot she came out of her building and into my arms. I had missed her terribly, and it was wonderful to hold her close again. I wasn't real big on her co-workers spying on us from behind the darkened office building glass, but after nearly 2 weeks away, I didn't really care who was watching. When Susan's lunch time was up I headed home, grateful to unload all that bullshit from my bike for the last time. After a nice shower and some clean clothes I unpacked and relaxed while I waited for Susan to come home from work. It had been an amazing trip, but just like Dorothy says in The Wizard of Oz..."there's no place like home..."
Thanks to all of you who took the time to come along with me virtually on this ride. All I can say is that for those of you who ride and keep saying you want to "do Sturgis someday," DO IT!! If you wait, all that will happen is you'll get older. All the rest of my pictures are in my last slideshow. Enjoy it, and please, Ride Safe...
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