STURGIS-Y2K
By Larry Alger, larry@motorcycletrailer.com

Sturgis Bike Week, there's nothing like it. Sturgis is mania in the streets. The sidewalks are crowded like Disneyland on a three day weekend and the streets are filled with motorcycles of every size color and description, and many that actually defy description, sharing the road with motor-homes cars and trucks towing trailers packed with gear and or motorcycles. Of course the event, Sturgis Bike week, is a celebration of Harley Davidsons replete with loud pipes, black leather, outrageous behavior and vendors offering merchandise and services of the widest possible selection your imagination could dream up. Sturgis is a carnival of the bazaar whose prime directive today is see and be seen. Located in the Black Hills of South Dakota, Sturgis is the gateway to some of the most picturesque riding anywhere. The legendary town of Deadwood, where Wild Bill Hickcock built a reputation as the fastest gun in the west and gambler, is a major attraction, as is the Mt. Rushmore national monument, and the Devils Tower at Hewlet (featured in the Spielburg movie Close Encounters of the third kind). No doubt the riding in the Sturgis area is primo stuff, except for the crowd factor (way too many bikes doing way too much stupid stuff) and the Police Factor (cops under the influence of endless targets of opportunity).

I had not been to a Sturgis Bike Week since 1993 and in the last seven years the town and the event has changed a lot. While in my experience bike week has always been a commercial event, this bike week was unlike my memory of the events past. The last time I was in Sturgis, Main street looked similar to the Main St of the new millennium with the crowds, and the bikes packed one next to another, lined up the length of the street, with Mr. Al's swapmeet and Gunners Bar (a club for the serious "outlaw" type biker"). But Sturgis Y2K was different. Last time I was in town The Vagos and the Bandidos had some beefs that ended up with the Vagos putting on show of force to let all other patch holders know they meant business, and their club was in charge when their colors where on the street, the red and while not withstanding. Even the cops knew enough to stay out of the way of that deal when it went down and wait until the dust settled before they their appearance.

In the Sturgis of today there was almost nothing I saw that belies the heritage the Jack Pine Gypsies begot 60 years ago when they decided to get together for a party in the Black Hills, race their bikes and raise a little hell in an out of the way town called Sturgis South Dakota. They were bikers with little to no respect for the law, except for the law of the jungle, and Sturgis was out of the way enough for them to throw their bash and be left mostly alone by the powers that be. The one thing I did see and experience that reminded me of what Sturgis HAS ALWAYS been, was a group of three patch-holders. They were working on an old hardtail pan, just off Junction and Main. This bike had an old twisted girder springer, with no front brake. Two of the lifestylers (lifestylers are real bikers for those readers who think a softail has no rear suspension, just like a real hardtail), were attempting to open the bleeder valve on the rear brake using an old and well worn Leatherman tool. Although I was on my way to meet with my Main Street client, a quick glance (the springer front end with no brake first caught my eye) at the patch-holders took me back to the days when "Bikers Helping Bikers" was more than a marketing slogan for a lawyer looking for accident cases to settle for 33% fees.

I could see they'd already begun to strip the bleeder valve and were going nowhere until they got the rear brake bled. They were kinda amazed I stopped to ask them if they could use a wrench. I do not look the part of a biker (like so many on Main Street do with the black t-shirts, the leather vests full of pins, and their new Softails, Ultras and Dynas) but I've ridden most of my life and still subscribe to the theory that if you're in the wind, you share a bond that runs deeper than "My bike's prettier than your bike", or "My pipes are louder than your pipes". After I asked the question, all three eyed me suspiciously, thinking, I'm sure, what the hell is up with this civilian and is this a cop, or what? They blew me off at first, saying "No man we can handle it OK" until I said "Look with that springer up front you gotta get that rear bleed and I've got a pretty good took set with me in my car, it's not hassle, after all we're all in the wind. The patch-holder with the Leatherman grinned at me and said "Sure man, that'd be cool, thanks". I got the tools, shot the shit with them while they bled the brake and then we were all on our way, me to meet with my client, and them to, well do Sturgis. That's part of the Sturgis I remember, patch-holders and civilians brought together by the bond of two wheels and sharing the experience to both 's satisfaction. That's part of how it used to BE.

In the year 2000 the powers that be, BE at Sturgis. Mc Donalds and Burger King grace the skyline of Lazelle, and a bar called One Eye Jacks has brought the college campus party-time meat market environment to Main St.. I did not get the opportunity to drop in on the new "Full Throttle Solon" which is billed as the world's largest biker bar complete with burn out pits and inside and outside bars, Whoa Dude, like it's the max……… Yea Right… But I imagine is Gilly's for the scooter wannabees. I was amazed to see Ducati motorcycles had a booth grouped in with Honda, Yamaha, and Kawasaki. Just like the other, bigger OEMs, Ducati came to Sturgis complete with a line of shiny red ducks waiting for the public to take a guided DEMO RIDE on their bikes. Whoa Dude you gotta check out that 914, It's Awesome Dude…. Ya Right….

I guess, in the end it comes down to the marketing budget & CPMs, and maybe the riding and the bonding of riders from all walks of life is no longer the prime reason for Bike Week at Sturgis any more.

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