Location is everything. I camped last year in Milwaukee and it wasn't bad, but this time I wanted to be more comfortable. There's just something about having your own bathroom and a real bed for 4 days instead of a tent, gang shower and port-a-johns. If I was 25 I probably wouldn't care so much about roughing it, but between my bad ankle and the stories I've heard about how wild the weather can suddenly get in Sturgis, this time it was a no-brainer. My wingman was completely on the same page with me, so we forked out the extra cash 7 months ago to reserve our room here at the Star Lite Inn.
I love a room with a view, don't you? The one with the open door is ours. It wasn't huge, but it was clean, comfortable, and the maids were really great. Just 8 short blocks from Main Street, or "the strip," the Star Lite was in a great location. It was fairly small and everybody there was a biker, so there were no concerns at all about the bikes overnight. We were able to walk to the strip, though that got old for me after a few times because coming back it was all uphill. The highway out of town was also just a few minutes away.
The bikes all lined up in front of our Motel
After we had settled in I let fellow Blackstone Member Tom Grimes know I was in town. Tom and his father really do Sturgis the old fashioned way, taking three weeks to ride out and back through the roads less traveled. They had already been in town for a few days and were camping at Glencoe. Tom texted me he was at One Eyed Jack's Saloon and that we should get our asses down there P.D.Q. It was time to hit "the strip." Iowa Harley Girl had also texted me she'd be over at The Knuckle with her husband for a band playing at 9. I was figuring we'd go check in with Tom first and then head over there a little later, but unfortunately it didn't work out that way and I'd regret it later.
Walking down the street one of the first things you notice is the little tent cities in some people's yards, especially the closer you get to Main Street. The lettering on the sign didn't come out, but what's funny about this picture is that it's a dentist's office! I really thought that was a riot. You have to figure they're open during the day...and then try to picture patients walking up the steps past these tents to go in the door...hey, anything for a buck, right?
I tried to take a little video when we arrived down on the strip, but it came out lousy in the dark and I ended up deleting it. Here's a short clip of Main Street I took 3 days later, and not anywhere near as busy as it was on my first night:
This is the famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) One Eyed Jack's Saloon, even though once again you can't read the sign. They also have so many vendors all around the place that you can hardly see it. The good thing about that though was one of the biggest vendors were the guys on the outdoor grill. Anytime you wanted until the bar closed you could go over there and get a burger, or better yet my favorite, the delicious steak sandwich.
OEJ's is so huge that I don't think I would ever have found Tom in there if we didn't have our cell phones. We were downstairs at one of several huge bars and all the bartenders were women, walking around in either bikinis or bras and panties, or combinations of both. When Jay and I finally hooked up with Tom, I told him I understood now why he choose this bar to hang in. Tom just laughs at us and says, "This is nothing; we need to go upstairs." The next few seconds were what is known in literature as a pregnant pause, followed by "Alrighty then!"
Now we come to the part that my lovely and vivacious girlfriend Susan has been suffering in angst over for the last 3 weeks. Sturgis at night isn't a church picnic, and when I got to the top of those stairs there was no doubt about it. I know this is what most of you have been waiting for, but I do have two things to say first: 1. I think there are WAY more women out there who are into other women than would care to admit it, and 2. NONE of these little tarts you're about to see has anything on my Susan!
That concludes the T&A portion of my Sturgis report, because I didn't ride nearly 2,000 miles to sit and watch strippers. As hip as the bar scene is out there, the real appeal is the riding. I've ridden all over New England, across the Midwest, across Florida, and in the Sonoran Desert, but there is nothing quite like the Black Hills of South Dakota. Now I realize more than ever just how much our forebears screwed over the American Indian, and why they didn't take kindly to said screwing. To them this place was sacred - a word that's lost a great deal of meaning over the years - a word I understand far better now.
Next Up: Saddle up - we're going for a RIDE...
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