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.
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!
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.
It happens every year in the month leading up to Sturgis. I go back and forth about whether I’m going, the highs and low’s of planning and then it all comes together and a date gets penciled in. Or does it? This year it does.
I’m actually getting my gear together and making a list of those items I will forget. It never fails, you can put it all in a pile and you end up taking those things you really will never need and leave behind the necessities. Of course you can pick up anything you need along the way, but that isn’t the point. I have it sitting right there on the garage floor.
I’ve sent a few messages to people I know who will be there in hopes of meeting up for a beer. I know I want to head out to the Full Throttle to see the progress in person, and do a couple of rides in the area that I haven’t done in a few years. Man, I wish The Knuckle Saloon still had the amateur MMA fights like they used to. Oh well, I’m sure there will be plenty going on, it’s just a matter of wandering around.
So, the next decision is which direction to ride on the way up. I’ve taken about every road up and back, mixing up the scenery and giving those few crooks the opportunity to skim my card at the gas pump. Yes, this has happened. Like every trip I take, I always have a goal of meeting some locals in hopes they tell me their life story. It will happen, and I’ll be all ears. That’s okay and it never gets old listening to someone tell me a little about themselves or the community in which they live. Good stuff.
As I sit here typing this, I should be in the garage packing some stuff. I did get my cup holder mounted. I struggled with that. Not from mounting it, but rather if I need it. Really? A cup holder? Hey, it’s a long trip.
I guess Friday morning is only a couple of sleeps away, and there will be plenty of time to gather my crap and strap it down. I’m ready to go – at least in my head I am.
It was my trip to Sturgis in August of 2016 when DJ, Gary and myself stopped for gas in Beloit Kansas when we crossed paths with Staci Wilt. Of course we had no idea at the time what kind of Motorcycle Industry insider she was, or was about to become. But this riding motorcycles has a way making paths cross, building friendships and expanding horizons. And it seems no matter which way I turn on the virtual highway of social media, I see Staci doing her thing. Hey, I know her!
I have a confession. When I first walked over to her at the gas pump to see if she needed anything on her solo trip to the rally, (because Gary, DJ and myself had enough packed between the three of us to supply shelter for a small city) I wasn’t expecting her response. With the small black bag on the back of her Dyna, she had everything she needed. As I walked back to my RV of a Harley, I realized the insanity of my packing skills. 30 miles down the road at the Largest Ball of Twine, we bumped into Staci again – only this time I dazzled her with my familiarity of the area when she asked me directions. And just like that, she was gone.
As I’ve mentioned, she has been building her profiles and making those important appearances at rallies and events, all the while her Dyna was in the shop for a major engine rebuild. But that’s what you have to do. Be seen, be present and be creative. She has all those bases covered. And she knows her stuff.
Her latest endeavor is called Ride to Food. We as bikers like to go places and if you’ve seen my profile, (and not my social media profile) you would see I like to eat along the way. But let’s stay away from those common food chains and strip mall eateries. Lets get together for a beer and a taste of local flavor that requires some searching and exploring. She does some of the legwork for us, and that saves time and broadens our experiences on the road. And she’s also a straight shooter telling it like it is.
Although our paths crossed just that one day, I consider Staci a friend. She gets it. She knows the why’s and where’s of the motorcycling communities and lives the lifestyle. Follow her on social media and her blogs and buy a t-shirt from her. Her blog is worth a read. Until we meet again Staci!
Certain days have a way of falling into a special place, kept as memories, that are treasured forever. Yesterday was one of those days – filled with laughter, fellowship, brotherhood and determination.
A week or so ago, a ride was put together to Cassoday Kansas, a small town that hosts bikers the first Sunday of the month during the riding season. The ride, suggested by my dear friend Gary Meadows, was to invite some friends to ride along with him to meet up with Soldiers For Jesus, MC – Kansas City Chapter in Cassoday. Gary has been fighting the fight with cancer, and this was his way of showing cancer the true power of the love and support he has behind him.
I’ve ridden with Gary before. DJ, a mutual friend of ours asked if he and Gary could ride to the rally with me a few years ago, and since I was going by myself, I welcomed it. That particular trip was thrown together in what seemed like a matter of days, and not knowing Gary on a personal level, it was clear to me he is someone who’s path I should have crossed many years before. His sense of humor and his sincerity is as genuine as his laughter. DJ, Gary and I had a great time and everything about the trip was effortless. We met up with Dennis Webb and Roger Larmer at the rally which only added to the experience. Thinking about this ride always brings a smile to my face and will go down as one of my best memories riding to Sturgis.
So as Sunday morning rolled around and the weatherman predicting favorable conditions, we gathered with Gary and his wife Charlene and Gary’s nurse Dee, who came along to offer not only moral support but also to monitor his condition for the ride. In this group that gathered, I realized the wide range of lives that can be touched by such a good guy.
If you’ve read anything I’ve written before, you would know I do some of my best thinking from the seat of my motorcycle. I knew when we pulled out of the parking lot I’d have about 100 miles or so to pull some thoughts together. Sometimes these thoughts can be a mixed bag of emotions, some are reflective, but today it was about being present. Both figuratively and literally present.
Gary, I can only speak for myself but it was truly an honor to ride with you once again. It was inspiring to see the love and support of your fellow bikers, but also your family. I witnessed the emotions and the power of prayer in the parking lot of a Casey’s. I saw the fellowship with the SFJMC-Kansas City as they wrapped their arms around you. I felt the bond between us when we embraced, and the lump in my throat when we spoke. These things I will never forget. The lives you’ve touched goes beyond the mechanics of the motorcycle – your church family and your community are living proof of that. I know I’m a better man because this path I’m on crossed yours.
We ride – because that’s what we do. Not always together, but never alone.Â
It’s almost like I fell off the face of the earth. I know in one of the last posts I wrote said I was going to get out of this mental funk and start blogging again. Well, the road of life has a way of taking you places, doesn’t it? For a guy who rides motorcycles almost every day, I really never saw this coming. I think some of the mental block I was experiencing was actually from riding my motorcycle. In the last couple of years I rode to Boston, L.A. and Sturgis a couple of times and the many miles of local roads can sure put a lot of stuff into perspective. But it also took some of the fun out of it. I wouldn’t trade any of those miles for anything, but I was at a point where I was riding without appreciating the fact that I was doing what I love so much. Instead of riding to clear my head and put my life – past, present and future into perspective, I was just rolling along with my head in this thick cloud of stuff. I’m not sure, but at one point I decided I needed a change. A big one. One that makes you question your own sanity and shit your pants. Sorry, but that is the only real term I could think of. So without too much hesitation I made a complete career change and now I’m transporting recreational vehicles from the manufacturer to their dealer destinations. In simpler terms, I move RV’s around the country. I know, right?
Since I started my blog I have written so much about riding my motorcycle and the random thoughts that roll around in my head and the life I’ve had growing up in the small town of White City Kansas. I’m sure if you have read any of what I’ve written you will get to know me pretty well. And I must admit this blog has opened up so many doors for me in the powersports industry and I’ve had an opportunity to not only get so much better at this but to also meet so many great people along the way. And it goes even further than that. I have also been contacted by several organizations to be a consultant within the powersports/financial community, talking trends about local, regional and national stuff in the business that I won’t bore you with. Who would have thunk a small town kid from White City would be contacted to write articles for magazines and talk with investors about what goes on in and around my small world? Thank you Jmadog Blog. So with all this I became less carefree and more of a stick in the mud. I think so anyway, others may say I was riding a wave. And what do I do? I take a break from writing and although the riding was still a big part of who I am, I still felt like I needed to figure it all out. Besides, the grandkids and my beautiful daughter moved back to Colorado Springs and I realized how important this was for them but also how difficult it would be for Paw Paw. Did I mentioned I made a career change? Let me tie all this together for you. So I started following the RV industry. Sounds boring, doesn’t it. Well, with all this talk about where the powersports industry was headed – with an aging Baby Boomer customer base and no generation coming in to take their place – I started doing my research. The RV business is on a steady incline and has been for a few years and then it hit me; This is where the powersports/Harley-Davidson customer is going. they’re buying Side-by-side off road vehicles (a growing segment in the industry) and RV’s. But wait, that’s not what made me change careers. I was coming back from Oklahoma after picking up a motorcycle from another dealer and on the radio they were talking about FEMA moving RV’s to Texas and along the coast after the hurricanes and at that point I wanted to be a part of something that made a difference. Not that I didn’t think someone buying a Harley-Davidson wasn’t changing someone’s life but c’mon I think you know what I mean. And so here I am. After traveling twenty-six states in the last two and a half months, driving as of today, 34,000 miles, I can say without hesitation that at this point I’m doing what I need to be doing. I also have plenty of time to think… Just the other day a memory came to me from when I was a kid and we were visiting relatives in Benkelman Nebraska. My folks and all my aunts and uncles would go out for the evening and leave us kids at Duane and Bonnie’s house to entertain ourselves. Great memories with my cousins for sure but when the adults came home my Uncle Duane would cook breakfast and to this day I can still see him doing this and smell the bacon. I haven’t thought about that for a long time. There’s more to this story but I’m sworn to secrecy.
I’m not going to kid anyone. This change has had a steep learning curve when motorcycles came so easy for me. I’ve made a couple of sacrifices and I’m willing to do it to achieve my goals. I’ve never doubted my abilities to adapt to any situation and let’s face it, I’m a pretty likable guy. Just sayin’. As I gather my thoughts and shift a few gears, I will see where this takes me.
It’s been a few months since I’ve written anything for my blog. For whatever reason my head felt empty and for once, I was at a total loss for words. I know, right? So now that I’ve had a break, it’s time to get my thoughts together and prepare myself, and you, for what might be coming as the weather warms up here in the Midwest. It’s March, but little do we know, spring is right around the corner. Or, a couple of blocks down and around the corner. Either way, we’re close.
I have a few trips planned – some long, some short – to put those much need miles on my bike and to fill my head with tall-tales and wild stories of where I’ve been and the people I’m going to meet. And I will meet people. I’ve made this small promise to myself to actually ask someone their name as they tell me their life story. I’m really bad about that. Of course, most will tell me their name right up front so it isn’t a big problem, but nonetheless I will do my best to have a formal introduction. Check.
I’m hoping to do Sturgis again this year for a couple of reasons. First, I feel like there is some unfinished business. I went last year and I didn’t accomplish a few things I had set out to do. I felt a little out-of-sorts and it was just weird. This time I plan on taking the weirdness out of it (take the weirdness out of Sturgis?) and look at things a little differently.
Los Angeles on my motorcycle? Hopefully. Probably. Yep. Check. Maybe even another trip that direction. More to come on that.
Iron Butt. I’m putting some ideas down to achieve an Iron Butt. I know I’ve probably done a couple over the years, but I’ve never documented it to get a certificate – 1000 miles in 24 hours, 1500 miles in 36 hours and it goes on like so. Sounds easy enough. I just need to figure out a route and pick a weekend. Oh, and read the rules from the Iron Butt Association. I wouldn’t want to hammer out 1000 miles only to find I didn’t follow the rules.
It doesn’t hurt to have goals. Sure some can be lofty, but none are impossible. It also doesn’t hurt to have a plan, and I need to work on this. I have a habit of shooting from the hip and somehow it’s worked for me this long. Shoot from the hip – Check.
Hopefully this year will bring sunshine and light breezes but I know there will be rain and high winds somewhere along the way. That’s okay. I’m ready for whatever comes my way!
It’s almost like I fell off the face of the earth. I know in one of the last posts I wrote said I was going to get out of this mental funk and start blogging again. Well, the road of life has a way of taking you places, doesn’t it? For a guy who rides motorcycles almost every day, I really never saw this coming. I think some of the mental block I was experiencing was actually from riding my motorcycle. In the last couple of years I rode to Boston, L.A. and Sturgis a couple of times and the many miles of local roads can sure put a lot of stuff into perspective. But it also took some of the fun out of it. I wouldn’t trade any of those miles for anything, but I was at a point where I was riding without appreciating the fact that I was doing what I love so much. Instead of riding to clear my head and put my life – past, present and future into perspective, I was just rolling along with my head in this thick cloud of stuff. I’m not sure, but at one point I decided I needed a change. A big one. One that makes you question your own sanity and shit your pants. Sorry, but that is the only real term I could think of. So without too much hesitation I made a complete career change and now I’m transporting recreational vehicles from the manufacturer to their dealer destinations. In simpler terms, I move RV’s around the country. I know, right?
I’m not going to kid anyone. This change has had a steep learning curve when motorcycles came so easy for me. I’ve made a couple of sacrifices and I’m willing to do it to achieve my goals. I’ve never doubted my abilities to adapt to any situation and let’s face it, I’m a pretty likable guy. Just sayin’. As I gather my thoughts and shift a few gears, I will see where this takes me.
Jeff Maddox 