There is always two sides to the same wooden nickel. My last post told you of the events of my travels to the 2026 Sturgis Rally, but there is, of course, the story that lives on the other side of said nickel.
This rally for me almost didn’t happen for various reasons. For I’m not sure why the struggle, but for the first time that I can remember, every day I kept talking myself out of going. I touched on it in the previous post, with my Road King having an issue, the Toys ‘r’ Us tent, the heat and whatever else I could come up with, I felt like for once this 12 o’clock hour clause was actually going to be implemented. Now that’s just crazy talk.
The truth is this my gut was telling me not to go. My head was telling me one thing, my heart was telling me another and my gut in all it’s glory, was telling me not to go. A little known fact about me is I dream every night, in detail. I usually can’t remember much after I wake up but sometimes I do. Some dreams are vivid and in color, some are on repeat, but nonetheless, every night. Do I usually listen to my gut? I always take it into consideration, but for me I’ve purchased more lottery tickets based on this midsection of my body with no results, so there’s that. But these dreams…
As motorcyclists, there are lots of things we must consider and one of them is whether or not this steed we straddle is going to get us there and back. I may have this carefree way about me with a ‘send it’ attitude, but this is serious business. Breaking down on the way to work is one thing but when you need to figure shit out on the side of a road with help hours away, it takes on the classic scenario of the old Tracy Lawrence song Find Out Who Your Friends Are. Rolling my pant-leg up for help went away in my mid-20’s and besides, when I pull my helmet off and set it on the road next to the motorcycle as the universal sign for help, the biker community usually comes running. Did I mention these dreams?
It truly was more serious then I make it out to be. There were plenty of Rally updates on social media about the many early-rally accidents, and over the years I know this is always a possibility. New riders, old riders alcohol and just people not paying attention can make a fun event not so fun. All this along with these dreams of previous rallies where close calls that I remember came back to life. I was completely in this head of mine with the what-if’s and maybe’s that I wondered if it was worth it. I hadn’t actually ridden to the rally for the last three years, and I also wondered if the old man in the mirror could actually do it anymore.
I needed to prove it to myself. I needed to get back to this ride, to this place in my head where life lives
Send it. Those words keep coming back to me. I needed to prove it to myself. I needed to get back to this ride, to this place in my head where life lives. I needed to be the young man that still gets up in the morning thinking he can do anything. The two sides of the same wooden nickel – How old you are versus how old you feel. Internal struggle versus life’s real struggles. I’m not dead yet, and why all the worry? Maybe it’s the fear of letting myself down, but for crying out loud I let myself down every day with my eating habits.
I needed this ride. Not so much to Sturgis, but a ride far enough to get out of my own head. I needed this ride to know why I ride and in some way to prove that my gut isn’t always right and my dreams are just that. It was a good rally for me although it was a quick trip but with many hours in the saddle to put my head in a better place. You know, like inside my helmet.
Well, for a few weeks prior to this year’s 86th annual rally I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. I always have the clause written in that the plug can be pulled right up to the last minute and the trip could be canceled. This year I felt like things were just working against me and due to poor planning (zero planning) the heat, this ridiculously small three-man tent I’ve only used once before, and a few weird dreams telling me to pull the plug. On top of that, I needed a new back tire to make the trip and due to once again, poor planning (no planning) I had to get it installed at work a couple of days before. Oh, and did I mention, on a morning ride to work just a few days before all this my Road King went into limp mode at a stop sign and just like the the term “limp” I made it to work without any throttle. Ugh. After Wayne put it on the lift, it was determined that we don’t know exactly the issue. So what do you do? You pack your suitcases and go. Screw it, let’s ride.
The ride there was pretty uneventful. Along the way I spoke with riders headed in both directions and I realized for some it was their first trip and for others it was a similar situation – last minute with minds changed to go is not unusual, and the length of how long to stay to be determined. Even I wasn’t sure how long I would be gone but deep down I knew it would be determined by weather, my mood or even the tolerance of a three-man tent. Little did I know…
750 miles later, I was confused. Not because of the heat or dehydration, but why it was 750 miles. I did go a different way but when Jeff leaves the station traveling at 70 mph, what time does he arrive at the rally? 11 and a half hours later I rolled into the campground. I needed a shower and to set up camp. Boy that tent looks really small. I throw all my gear in it and head into town to get something to eat. Once I got to Main Street I parked and headed to the Loud American for the usual beer and beef tip basket. It’s great walking around checking things out, and running into people you know. I’ve known Buffalo Mike for years coming to the rally and to see him within an hour of getting here is crazy. But is it really crazy? What’s crazy is this ritual of him putting his helmet with horns on my head. I guess we all have our thing and this happens to be his. He’s a great guy but if its hot and you’re sweaty, lets just shake hands. Hopefully, this helmet/horn/hair thing will end up in the Sturgis Museum as a tribute to the man who loves this rally.
After walking around a bit I decided to head back to Lamphere Campground and call it a day. As I parked the bike next to this 3-man dome tent I actually thought back to a couple of trips I made where I had the wrong rain suit packed. Apparently, I had mistakenly packed my wife’s rain suit for a trip to Boston, then forgot to take it out and replace with mine for the second trip with the Ride 50 at 50 boys. Anyone who has read any of my stuff knows the rain suit struggle was real. This tent is going to be a tight fit. I wonder who thought that three men would actually get into this thing. As I literally crawled into this torture device I knew it would be even harder to get out of in the morning.
Tuesday morning. Rough night sleeping even with ear plugs in, but necessary with Glenco Campground close by. I’m happy to have survived the night with a couple of hours of sleep, but I still need to get out of this tent with some dignity. I’m an early riser and it’s still dark but there is no way I’m even getting my socks on inside this dome from hell. Everything I packed with me is also in here so there’s that. I unzip the door and make my way outside and climb into an upright position, gather myself and head to the campground HQ for coffee. Last year while sitting at a table by myself, a guy and his girlfriend came over and asked me about my BMW F700 GS that was parked in front of us. We talked for about an hour about life and the rally, and all the things motorcycle related. He was a former member of a 1% club and had the tattoo of the club on his neck. I’ll admit, he is a great looking guy and a wonderful conversationalist, and I enjoyed talking to him and his girlfriend. The same thing happened again this year. Sitting at the same table, they walk up and sit down with me and we picked up where we left off. This to me is what this rally really is. We said what we always say – see you next year as hands were shaken.
I rode into town and parked on Main Street. Not much going on as it’s 8 am so I walk around a bit. It’s already hot and I’m figuring out what is on the agenda today. I walked over to the Indian Motorcycle display and met Pat Cornell who has set several world records on his Indian. I have followed him on social media during his record-braking ride and it was a pleasure talking to him. 146,000 miles in 146 days? I rode 750 yesterday to get to the rally and my ass was kicked. I didn’t mention that to him.
Back over onto Main Street, I see a guy changing his oil on a Kawasaki Vulcan 900. On Main Street. At 9 am. I have seen some weird stuff, but c’mon man. I’m not sure what the other guy is doing, but this is a first for me. (editor’s note; it was more serious than changing oil, But c’mon man)
Did I mention how hot it is? I walked over to a house on Lazelle Street where for the last 17 years a family has put up a stand and sold bottle water and soda. I have stopped here for years and watched their two girls grow up. I spoke with Kathy, their mother, as she was working the stand by herself until one of the girls comes to help. By the way, both girls are now flight attendants and they paid for college working during the rally. Again, this is what the rally is to me. Did I take a picture? Sorry, I didn’t. I walked over to he J&P Cycle corner and sat down on a bench in the shade. The rally is starting to get busier and I’m a people watcher so a bench is a great place to be. It never fails. Someone always sits down right next to me. I mean right next to me. This older guy and his wife were walking in the store and he said with a grump tone “I’m sitting here” and he did. She went in while he and I talked about the usual. They’re from Missouri and I heard about how she wants him to get a new helmet and he doesn’t want too. I heard about how she is ten years younger at 65 than he is. I heard how she brings the small dogs with them and he likes that. You know, life story stuff. She came back out and said let’s get you a new helmet – he said NO! and she walked back in. I said communication is the secret to a lasting relationship and he agreed.
Mid-day I decide to go to Rapid City to Black Hills Harley-Davidson. Big place, lot’s of vendors and some serious business of service, bike sales and parts and accessories. On the way over, east-bound traffic started to back up and of course mostly bikers and the like. It’s hot and not the type of situation that sells motorcycles if you know what I mean. This takes the fun right out of it. Thinking the worst is up ahead, after 30 minutes it ends up being a semi truck having mechanical issues. It could have been something worse.
I leave Black Hills Harley and head over to Texas Roadhouse just down the road. I take a seat at the bar and start the usual banter with those close by. I noticed they have a Texas Roadhouse Rally shirt and I tell the guy next to me that I’m leaving with one. He laughed, I laughed and it was game on. I asked the waiter and he was very sure that it wasn’t going to happen. I asked the shift manager and she laughed like I was kidding and said they’re only for employees. I said I would fill out an employment application if that would help. They weren’t hiring. But out of the back came the store manager with a shirt for me and I was shocked (not really). Maybe they’ll call me in to work a shift or two.
Heading back after scoring the shirt I hit hard rain on I-90. I had the idea all I needed was my rain jacket not pants on and clearly I don’t know anything. I pulled off at an exit followed by an old man and we sat at the stop sign while it rained. Knowing it wouldn’t last, it wasn’t worth putting my rain pants on over wet shoes and jeans, I stood there like a man and just let it rain on me. What about the old man? Yeah, I’ve had better conversations. He just wasn’t a happy guy. I even told him about my new t-shirt and he didn’t care. Seeing a small break in the rain, I took off for the Full Throttle Saloon.
Pictures won’t do it justice, so why bother? It’s big and loud and holds lots of people. The main reason I go is for the Michael Lichter bike show. It’s quiet in here and the custom bikes are great. And once again pictures won’t do them justice. I also spoke with a guy from Australia and we became fast friends. Lot’s in common except for his cool accent and full head of hair. I liked talking to him because he brings a perspective to the rally we in America often lose. He loves it here and the rally for him doesn’t disappoint. He shook my hand and appreciated the conversation. Likewise, my friend.
The Full Throttle Saloon is quite the place. I always go in the afternoon before the concert goers start to show up. It’s crazy enough but I don’t need more crazy. As I headed out the door to get on the Road King, I spot this individual just standing in the parking lot. I thought to myself, here’s a person who doesn’t fit in but also one that does fit into the Sturgis Rally. You can see it all here if you just look up from your phone. The people, the stories, the sights and sounds. It’s all here. For a couple of weeks, people come from all over the world to be who they want to be. Whether it’s authentic or just for show who knows or cares. But somehow I took his picture without him knowing. Welcome to the rally!
Time to head back to camp to figure out if I’m going to stay another day or head back Wednesday. Looking at the weather, there is rain in the forecast so I’m leaning on packing my suitcases and heading back. While thinking this through, I pulled up to my miniature size home only to see that one of the two poles that holds my whole life together has snapped. Yep, I might as well be sleeping in a bread sack. This was the sign I needed to pack up and leave. Oddly, I slept like a champ with a tent folding up around me. I woke up, slithered out of the tent, packed up and headed out just as the sun was coming up.
The first 180 miles we great. The temperature was cool but warming, and the Road King had been humming along great this whole trip. I stopped in Alliance Nebraska for gas and you could feel the heat rising. The rest of the ride will be miserable, and it was. But I rode like the wind, and for once I didn’t listen to music on the ride home. I thought a lot about stuff I haven’t thought of for a while. Things that needed to be sorted out or rehashed in this beautiful mind of mine. You know the one – right under this beautiful head of hair on my head.
What is next year going to be like? Have I had enough of this rally? I don’t know, but I have a few months to think about it. As for the other stuff, there will need to be more time sorting those thoughts out. After another 750 miles on Wednesday, I realized I rode there and back in 24 hours total on Monday and Wednesday and I spent a total of 36 hours at the rally. Worth it? It was, but it wasn’t easy. As for the tent? I left it in the trash. The Road King? Never missed a beat (I wasn’t worried at all).
There’s plenty of talk the last couple of years about Harley-Davidson. Most recently with the CEO Jochen Zeitz, stepping down, the internet has had plenty of posts and comments from those who want to weigh in on what H-D has done wrong. Disclaimer; I don’t have the answers.
I’m mostly writing this from my experience, and basic knowledge of being a Harley enthusiast and owner of many Harley-Davidsons. I’ve work in the motorcycle industry for over 16 years and have had my share of long conversations about the Motor Company and what appears to be, a business in decline. So here are some of my thoughts on the matter and since my phone isn’t ringing, apparently nobody is asking me.
Social media can be quite the venue for opinions and observations. I have spent more time than I really should reading comments from many fellow riders who feel passionate about what is going on behind the Motor Company’s shrinking dealer network, seemingly higher prices, aging core customer base and the reason H-D is where they are.
I sold new Harley-Davidson’s for 10 years and I admit, I like the brand and what it represents. At that time I felt that it truly was a lifestyle – at least that’s how I sold them. But honestly, I also believed it, and perhaps I still do. But motorcycles, regardless of the badge on the tank, is a lifestyle. The difference is the Motor Company took it all to another level. From the history of Harley-Davidson and their compelling story, to where they were assembled and how it all ends up at a major rally near you is fascinating. It was easy to get the potential buyer excited and sold on the dream. Whether the customer never went further than to a HOG meeting at their local dealership or decided to go coast to coast, the picture would get painted and all that was left to decide on was what accessories to add and get them to finance. The Customer Path was almost complete. Then came the casual clothing, leather riding gear, poker chips and all sorts of gifts and collectables. The Bar and Shield appeal is strong, and for many years this loyal customer was happy to be a part of a much larger association of riders.
I haven’t sold a brand new Harley since the fall of 2017 but I’m still in the powersports business. We do sell used Harley-Davidsons and have great success with it. In recent years, I’ve been somewhat surprised how values of used Harley’s have fallen. Just to be clear, the wholesale market on used inventory is fluid for all makes, but even I have been surprised with the low values and the plethora of used Harley’s for sale both in the market and at auction.
So I believe the answer to the question of why Harley-Davidson is struggling is in how you are answering this serious question:If you are in the market for a new motorcycle, are you considering a Harley? If not, then why? Are you aging out? Does Harley-Davidson not offer what you’re in the market for? Retail pricing of a new Harley? Dealer location? Politics? All of the above?
I’m a soon-to-be 63 year old average consumer/enthusiast and I can’t see myself not owning a motorcycle. I currently ride a 10 year old BMW F700GS and usually trade about every two years. The nearest BMW dealer to me is 145 miles away. The nearest H-D dealer is 65 miles. I also own a Harley-Davidson Low Rider but it’s not my daily. Retail pricing? I don’t see any reason to buy a new motorcycle of any brand as there are plenty of low-mileage used inventory available. Oh, and I’ve owned nine Harley-Davidsons (only one brand new), I work at a Kawasaki dealership, and have ridden to the largest motorcycle rally in South Dakota for 17 years. Hmm, maybe the problem isn’t Harley-Davidson.
I believe all brands have the same issues. The big difference is most other brands offer something for the whole family. Youth dirt bikes and ATV’s, personal watercraft, side x sides for work and play, dual sports and street bikes. Poker chips? Not so much. Perhaps, Harley-Davidson should open the door for dealers to have the opportunity to be multi-line. Let dealers run their business how they see fit. If you want to remain exclusive H-D, so be it. But if a dealer can offer up solutions to an active family, build potential customers from an early age, fill the service department with more work and give their customers a chance to grow into a Harley-Davidson motorcycle, it might make a difference.
The Harley-Davidson lifestyle is just their version of the powersports lifestyle. There isn’t anything in the rule book of riding that says you can only own one brand at a time, and you must only ride on the street and in groups of more than five. We ride, we race, we raise a family and make friends out of strangers because of these damn things. Again, I don’t claim to have the answers. But I’ve seen those great customers fade into the lifestyle of recreational SxS’s, toy-haulers and grandkids and then come in for another motorcycle.
I believe Harley-Davidson has it’s place in this world. Maybe their vision has been clouded by the smoky burnouts, but with the right person behind the handlebars maybe there is hope. I’ll ask once more; If you’re in the market for a new motorcycle are you considering a new Harley-Davidson? And if not, why? The Motor Company might want to know.
Sometimes, the answer to most questions in this simple mind of mine is to grab the handlebars of my motorcycle and go for a ride. In my last post Tomorrow We Drive, I talked about winter riding and how we need to find those brief opportunities to get the bike out and depending on your region, those brief moments maybe few and far between. But if you’re lucky, this may not be a concern. I’ve heard there are parts of the country where you can ride in relative nice weather all year long. Oh, the luck.
The Winter Blues
I work in the motorcycle/powersports industry and I stare at this stuff all day long. I talk to many folks that buy bikes and such in the winter as well, and I guess in some sort of twisted way this is me subconsciously grabbing my handlebars to get a fix. You don’t have to always ride a motorcycle, but it helps when it comes to the I can’t ride today blues. Paycheck? Oh, that too. When you think about, talk about, work around and ride bikes all year long, and still want to go for a ride? Hi, my name is Jeff and I might have a problem.
“When you think about, talk about, work around and ride bikes all year long, and still want to go for a ride? Hi, my name is Jeff and I might have a problem.”
I’m pretty fortunate to do something I love. I’ve been lucky as an adult to really not have a job that sucked, but this particular industry has allowed me to be who I am without everyone thinking I’m crazy. There are a lot of great people I’ve met and gotten to know that I wouldn’t have otherwise had the opportunity to. Hmm, I wonder if they say the same about me? Of course they do.
Now that we’re a couple of weeks away from a new year, I know it won’t be long before the daylight lasts a little longer and the temperature becomes more comfortable. It’ll be fine, right? I’m not the only one thinking about this I’m sure. Well, except those living in a place where it’s unimaginable to reside somewhere that has seasons.
And so I sit on this cold, windy day looking at the forecast. Sunday looks like a possibility and it might be nice to ride around this small town I live in. Even a short ride can go a long way with me this time of year. And if the ride doesn’t happen you’ll at the very least find me at work thinking and talking about it.
It’s different riding motorcycles in November. The weather can be all over the place, and the daylight doesn’t last as long. Tonight, riding home from work, I’m watching the sun set behind me and the shadow of myself beside me – both seem to be moving too fast. After another hot, dry summer the cooler temps are refreshing. The getting darker sooner part doesn’t help, but with my right eye looking out for deer crossing the road, my left eye is just plain being lazy.
I feel the cold in a different way now. As a young man, I would just push that uncomfortable feeling of wind-chill out of my head and ride along. Now, it creeps in a little deeper into the jacket letting me know that the heater in the truck still works just fine. Tomorrow, we drive.
Now, I’m not saying I’m getting soft. Smarter? Debatable. I do know this riding motorcycles outside of fair weather is not for everyone. I’ve done it and mostly enjoyed it. There are always moments during any ride, even the most beautiful day can be, dare I say, a chore. Add a dip in the temperature, rain, wind, untrained wildlife, darkness and cell phones behind the steering wheel, and we have the makings of drudgery.
“… push that uncomfortable feeling of wind-chill out of my head and ride along. Now, it creeps in a little deeper into the jacket letting me know that the heater in the truck still works just fine. Tomorrow, we drive.”
But boy, do I love riding motorcycles. It truly is worth it. Inside that helmet of mine you’ll find a smile and even on those rides where the heat is unbearable or the cold feels colder than normal, I love it. But… there is a point where before there was no point. On those colder mornings I’m easily convinced to drive, and of course the hour long commute one way can be a stretch. I’ve found that around 45 degrees for an hour is plenty for me now. When the commute was 20 miles, single digits were tolerable. I was also 15 years younger and rode like the wind.
I pretty sure winter roles around about the same time every year for all of us and as a motorcyclist, we just put a bookmark in it until we can catch a random day of warmer temps and sunshine. Oh, and to make sure it’s between the hours of 7:30 am and 4:40 pm. Looking at the weather forecast for the next seven days, one thing is for sure. Tomorrow we drive.
So it’s been a while. Every year around July, I start thinking of the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally and my sub-conscious always starts packing my motorcycle for the trip. It’s a reflexive thing and whether the trip happens or not, doesn’t seem to matter. I used to be very consistent in going each year and the last few years just haven’t happened. What changed? Nothing, except I refused to make excuses to not go. And there you have it.
So this year I made the trek and I also hauled my bike up on a trailer. I’ve done this once before and quite frankly, it doesn’t matter to me at this point. I’ve ridden there so many times in the past and trailering takes a lot of stress and weather-worry out of the equation. Oh, and I took my BMW. My, how things have changed. If you’ve read any of my older posts, I also rode a BMW there in 2019 but went early before the rally officially started. We are seeing more and more adventure bikes everywhere we go and the Sturgis Rally is no exception. Let’s sum this up; I went, I trailered, and I took a BMW. Yep.
Leaving after work on a Saturday, the plan was to arrive at Ender’s Lake in Nebraska by dark, and spend the night in the back of the truck. I stopped in Colby Kansas for a bite to eat and when I climbed out of the cab of the Ranger, I was jumped in the parking lot of Arby’s by a guy named Heat Index. Wow, it was hot! OK, whether or not it’s cool to haul your bike to Sturgis, at that moment I was cool with it. Literally.
“when I climbed out of the cab of the Ranger, I was jumped in the parking lot of Arby’s by a guy named Heat Index. Wow, it was hot!”
I arrived at Lamphere Ranch Campground about noon on Sunday, and got the bike off the trailer to ride into town to get lunch. I know it’s been a couple of years but it seemed like I hadn’t seen this many people downtown in a long time. For the first weekend of the rally, I guess that’s to be expected. I’m hungry and well rested from the drive so let’s eat. The sights and sounds of Main Street is classic Sturgis and as I sit at the Loud American eating my lunch, I know it won’t take long to get back into the groove.
After lunch I walked the sidewalks to check things out. Lot’s of people, t-shirts and traffic of course, but also everyone with a bagger had their music turned up to the max which the old man in me found annoying. If you’re going to force me to listen to your music for the 20 seconds it takes for you to get down the street past me, let’s agree on what song is playing. Anything from Journey works for me. I suppose it’s just me and by time I finished lunch and set out on foot, I hardly noticed.
It always amazes me with the plethora of people, that you will even see someone you know but it never fails. Years ago we met a guy that goes by the name Buffalo Mike and he is what you might expect from a rally of this type. A helmet with horns and leather vest with no shirt on pretty much sums him up. Or so I thought. After seeing him at the rally several times over the years, Buffalo Mike is a great guy. I bumped into him again this year in front of the Full Throttle Saloon and we got caught up. He’s 74 years old if you’re wondering. Yes, it’s his thing to put his sweaty helmet on your head…
Buffalo Mike is a great guy. I bumped into him again this year in front of the Full Throttle Saloon and we got caught up. He’s 74 years old if you’re wondering. Yes, it’s his thing to put his sweaty helmet on your head…
These pictures were taken ten years apart and I’m guessing the old man next to Buffalo Mike is me, Buffalo Jeff. He rode his Heritage Softail Classic from Oregon and I trailered a BMW, but I didn’t bother to mention that part.
Monday was a good day to ride to Deadwood and through Spearfish Canyon, Nemo and a few roads in between. It’s nice to get out on the roads in the morning before the traffic picks up and then back into town for a bite to eat. Looking at the picture above, I could stand to skip a meal. But not today. Off to the Knuckle Saloon for something to eat and a $6 beer and it’s time to get a few steps in.
If you like to people-watch or have any interest in motorcycles, this is a great place to be. There’s plenty to see from a tourist standpoint and the sights and sounds surrounding the rally can wear you down after awhile. Lucky for me, I like all of the above. At the Full Throttle Saloon custom bike show, I ran into Kevin Bean’re and talked to him about his bike and travels. He has quite the life and always smiling.
For me, the 84th Sturgis Rally weather was perfect. I rode a little, walked a lot and saw a few friends and made a few new friends in the process. There is a lot that goes into putting this rally on, and if you have any inclination to go, I would say do it. Next year for the 85th the attendance numbers will be higher, but that’s just how it goes. Maybe next year I’ll leave the old man in me at home, ride up instead of trailering and find a helmet with horns. Either way, I hope to see you there!
The old saying “the more things change, the more they stay the same” works most of the time but lets face it, change is change. This bridge is about two and a half miles from White City and I’ve taken my motorcycles here spanning the last 16 years or so because of the cool backdrop the bridge provided. But time marches on, infrastructure needs improving and old country bridges need some lovin’ too. To me this old bridge wasn’t bothering anyone but that’s just me being selfish.
Growing up in White City Kansas, there are many places where the past is still very present. Old buildings and houses, some abandoned, a brick street running through the heart of town, an old water tower most recently repainted and a whisper of the sound of a town once thriving. Don’t get me wrong, there is life in this town of mine but you have to know where to look. White City isn’t immune to progress, after all we have seen such progress in our city streets, Co-op, school and those entrepreneurs keeping their businesses going. It’s a great place to have grown up. But, back to this old bridge.
The first time I traveled out the bridge only to see trees had been removed and construction was under way, I was a little shocked. Word travels fast around these parts and I hadn’t heard anything about the bridge being replaced. I’m not sure the county owed me a phone call, but the surprise of what I saw left me a little sad. This was a great spot to ride out to and stop, kick rocks off the edge and listen to the water pass underneath. Once in awhile there would be fresh graffiti painted on the supports giving you, at minimum, the year of the graduating class, give or take a year or more, and maybe the status in relationships tagged with a heart. A place where feelings were expressed, good or bad, with a can of spray paint. As the construction progressed, the scene turned into an unstoppable step forward.
The small town guy in me will miss this bridge for many reasons. Just like the memories of growing up in a town at a time when every storefront had a business, the constant cruising down the street on Saturday night and being home at midnight was a thing. The motorcyclist in me will miss it for a peaceful destination and appreciation for it’s service to the county. Oh, and for a backdrop for pictures.
There are plenty of places like this – old and interesting – that would make a fine place to picture my motorcycles, but this place was special. I’ve grown up in this area and watched the landscape change around me, yet it basically stays the same. You only need to know where to look.
There seems to be a lot of conversation about the new Harley-Davidson Pan America within the BMW community. I follow both groups on social media and I’m amazed at some of the comments I’ve read coming from both crowds. Even Zach and Ari have a video out explaining how either brand shines outside of their respective genre. As a guy who likes all-things motorcycle, I find the Us versus Them to be the same argument as to the chicken and the egg. I like eggs and I like chicken. Why argue about it?
Clearly, Harley-Davidson has stepped beyond their comfort zone with the Pan America and BMW has done the very same with the BMW R 1800 Classic. Or are they still in their comfort zone? Both companies have been around a very long time, (and it shows) and both companies have produced motorcycles that have appealed to a wide range of interests. Just take a look at their powerplants and you’ll see how each have held on to the past and brought those designs into the future. Classic lines and designs can sell product, that’s for sure.
I’ve never been the guy that thinks mine is better than yours when it comes to brands. Every brand can have a bad day and even a model within ranks can have issues that it can’t outrun. Rose-colored face-shields can soften our opinions but time marches on. So back to these respective groups on social media – reading comment after comment of how owners of one brand talk and think of others amazes me. As riders, we ride and usually own several makes and models over the years. Heck, even in some sort of secret and successful marketing strategy by these makers of motorcycles, we may own several bikes at a time consisting of different brands! And then to splinter off even further, these bikes could even be for different types of riding based around touring, dirt or sport. Does that make any of the plethora of bikes I’ve owned any better than yours? Of course not. But social media has given most folks the power and authority to comment their negative opinions that add nothing to the discussion. We ride. We bench race. We opinionate.
I’ve owned a lot of motorcycles over the 45 + years of riding. Some were good, others were great and a few left no impression on me. But they all served a purpose in getting me where I am today. It took many miles and a lot of dust to figure out what kind of riding I like to do and of course, some motorcycles are more suited to me for that purpose. I’m not going to go out of my way to pull the conversation down to a lower level by beating up the so-called competition to the brand I’m currently riding. If it takes Harley-Davidson to up the game in the ADV category, then so be it. Honda, Moto Guzzi, Triumph and Yamaha will have to up their game along with the BMW line-up. Will Harley-Davidson bring out a smaller displacement ADV bike? The Saucepan America? My bet is not in the near future. But would it be so bad?
Will Harley-Davidson bring out a smaller displacement ADV bike? The Saucepan America? My bet is not in the near future.
There’s plenty of room around the world for any manufacturer to step out and create something new and exciting. As a consumer, I can appreciate the effort it takes to bring a new bike to the dealer’s floor and it’s interesting to see how opinions and brand loyalties then become the discussion. I get it, we take a certain pride in what we ride and bragging is what fills the comment section. I still wave at anyone on a motorcycle regardless of what they’re riding because you never know at what stage of the motorcycle experience they are in. At the end of the day, we ride, and what we ride is a matter of where we are in our participation in this sport.
I acknowledge all of my fellow riders and would stop to help or shoot the breeze with any of you wherever I may find myself on this road we ride. With a new year ahead of us and a new model year coming, we can only hope it brings with it a bunch of new stuff to discuss. Save travels!
It’s odd really, to be sitting here typing out a blog that is so long overdue. It’s been a busy year with work, large projects and a constant sense of urgency to get things done. Even with this punching me in the face every day I have still managed about 20,000 miles on my motorcycle. Mostly a daily commute but also some backroads and a quick trip to Sturgis a couple of weeks before the annual Motorcycle Rally. That trip was weird, with 2200 miles and a total of seven face-to-face conversations with two of those being in Kansas. It was a good ride with lots of time to duck some of those punches to the face I’ve felt most of the year.
I’ve had lots of great experiences going to Sturgis for the Rally, and although the memories can run together, some of them stand out as clear as if it were just this year. The ride there and back, the people you meet along the way, and the conversations you have with those you will never meet again give you this sense of how it’s the people we bump into in our lifetime that can have the biggest impact in any given situation. Interactions with our fellow human beings is still one of my favorite parts of riding a motorcycle. And even as I like to ride either alone or with very few others, I find it’s those brief moments of fellowship along with the interesting stories people will tell you, that make any trip memorable.
Coming back from this trip to South Dakota, I could see as I approached Grand Island Nebraska, I would eventually run into this storm that was building across North Central Kansas. What ride through several states doesn’t end with a crescendo? I have ridden in many rain storms and I travel with a rainsuit at the ready, so this wasn’t that big of deal. South of York Nebraska it was clear to me I would get my chance to pull my rainsuit out to see if it fits. If any of you read my blogs from my previous trips, you will know my history of the ever-shrinking-it-must-have-been-put-away-wet rainsuit. Well, this one still fits.
Ifany of you read my blogs from my previous trips, you will know my history of the ever-shrinking-it-must-have-been-put-away-wet rainsuit. Well, this one still fits.
As I hopped around pulling it on over my boots, I could feel the rain coming. Within a mile after getting back on the road the rain came and it wasn’t messing around. It hit and hit hard. By my rain gauge that I keep conveniently inside my head, this is at least the second or third worst rain I’ve ridden in. As cars were slowing down or pulling over, I kept pushing through. Yes I know, pulling over would have been the wise thing to do, but… Within a few miles it was clear I wasn’t going to ride out of this without a fight, so I turned my heated grips up a notch and titled my head down.
Once I settled in to a water-filled groove, I knew this was going to be okay. I noticed another rider heading in the opposite direction and quickly realised how lucky I was to be prepared. He wasn’t. I felt sorry for him because I know how miserable it can be. I did have a few cars pass me but mostly I would pass them. I’m sure I was an odd sight but let’s be real, I’m an odd sight regardless. I did notice a white truck from Louisiana that kept hovering around – first following me then passing me only for me to pass again. I sensed visibility at times affected their designated position on the road, but just make up your mind fer-cryin’-outloud.
When the rain subsided around Belleville Kansas, I decided to ride on to Concordia where I would need gas. This gave my rainsuit a chance to dry off before putting it back in it’s bag. It was a good ride from Belleville to Concordia as the skies were clearing and the temperature started warming back up. Another successful ride in the rain and I will be able to tell this story for days and weeks to come. Embellished of course.
As I pulled into the gas station and climbed of my GS1150 the white pickup from Louisiana pulled up to the pump next to me. As I gracefully struggled getting my foot out of my pant leg the woman in the passenger seat came over and asked if I was okay. She and her husband intentionally followed me to make sure I was going to be alright. She asked me several questions about the dangers of riding in this type of rain and what I would have done if it started to hail? Before I could answer, her husband also walked over and fired off several concerns as I stripped off my suit. I explained how an experienced rider like me who’s no-fear attitude towards adverse conditions, my nerves of steel and a perfectly fitted rain suit could get me through anything. Along with my perfect smile and full head of hair of course.
I explained how an experienced rider like me who’s no-fear attitude towards adverse conditions, my nerves of steel and a perfectly fitted rain suit could get me through anything. Along with my perfect smile and full head of hair of course.
What a beautiful moment this was. Perfect strangers concerned for someone they didn’t know who was in a very vulnerable situation. You know, like it should be. And even more so, they were concerned for ME. I thanked them for worrying and wished them safe travels back to their home state. I’m telling you, it’s the people that make this short time we have on earth a beautiful thing.
A couple of weeks before my pilgrimage to Sturgis for the 79th Annual Motorcycle Rally, Viking Bags USA asked me to take a pair of gloves with me and give them a try. If any of you were to look through my saddlebags, you would find I carry quite a bit of random stuff. It’s not unusual for me to have two or three pairs of gloves in my saddlebags for the changing weather, and of course this trip was no different. On more than one occasion, I have offered a pair of gloves to a biker in need, and I’m sure any biker would do the same for me. When the Viking Cycle Prestige Canvas/Leather Motorcycle Gloves showed up on my doorstep, I was impressed with the construction, fit and look. As a budget-friendly pair of gloves, I was anxious to try them out. Anyway, I gladly packed the gloves from Motorcyclehouse UK and organized for my trip. Organized – that’s a funny word for me.
Perforated Genuine Cowhide PalmViking Cycle Logo
The Friday morning I headed out was rather cool for August since we have had some rain, and I thought this would be a great way to test the pair from Motorcyclehouse AU. My first impression was how they fit. Often, gloves will have a finger that is too long or short, or the flexibility is limited and your hands don’t have the full movement you want. The Prestige Canvas Glove has a leather ribbing over the knuckles to allow flex giving them the already-broken-in feel. I wear an XL glove and these actually fit my hands great. With my hands covered, I fired up my already loaded bike and hit the highway with plans of making Sturgis by late afternoon.
Riding along, I started thinking about how many pair of gloves I have used over the years. How many have been left on top of a gas pump after filling up and how I kicked myself for not buying two pair when I found some that I liked. As riders, we have our favorite gear – gear that we trust. Whether it’s a helmet that fits right, a jacket that protects you from the elements or a pair of gloves that are comfortable. These Viking Cycle AU Gloves do the trick.
So a little about these Prestige Canvas Riding Gloves. They have a cotton canvas back with a genuine cowhide leather palm that is perforated for breath-ability. They are easy to slip on and come with a wrist closure to snug them up. And here’s the kicker – the fingertips are touch-screen friendly. Yep, you don’t have to take your glove off when holding your phone. This feature is usually found in gloves twice the price! And right now they retail for $24.99 on Viking Cycle’s UK website.
After my trip to South Dakota and a few short rides since, I found these gloves to be a great addition to my gear. Let’s face it, we can spend a lot on motorcycle gear, but this is a nice glove for the price and allows you to keep a few bucks in your pocket. Head over to Viking Cycle, follow them on social media and check out the Prestige Canvas Glove and other gear! We’ll see you on the road!
Jeff Maddox 