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The 55th Annual Black Hills Motor Classic in
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In the Year of Our Lord, 1995
It has been over a decade since this journey was undertaken and this account was written. Much has transpired in that time, but this trip to Sturgis hasn’t been forgotten and as was prophesized in the story, our friendships remains steadfast to this day. As may be surmised from the account, the nucleus of the Camp Hawg Ledger consisted of written notes taken at the time of the trip. Although the notes were helpful, much has been reconstructed from memory and each member of the party had reminiscences that were dear to them about specific events. The field notes from 1995 remain in file still and often provide a laugh when one is needed… Gene, Kirk, Jeannie and Alden still live in the same area pretty much as we did in 1995; all of us have had changes in our lives – some good, some bad, some major, but we remain good friends. We lost contact with Juan and Sonja after a few years and the last we knew they probably weren’t together anymore. We wish them well wherever they may be and hope that life is treating them well. We have never returned to Sturgis as a group.
This Photojournal is dedicated to all of us that ride
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The Players
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Jeannie Dyer –aka The Princess
Gene Arlo Barber –aka Mo-Mo or The Man with No Asshole
Kirk M. Rogers – aka Kiro or the Captain
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Juan Galvin – aka Homeboy, Homey, Juan Valdez, the Mexican
And other supporting members too numerous to mention
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The Departure
Wednesday, August 2nd, 1995
Wednesday, August 2nd, 1995
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After several meetings for planning and preparations, Gene, Kirk, Jeannie and Alden, set our departure date for the evening of August 3, 1995.
As things turned out, Gene in his excitement to commence the trip moved the date up to the evening of Wednesday, August 2nd, and we departed
Portland to begin our adventure at 2030 hours. Gene got to the shop early and he and Alden loaded the bikes on the trailer. Several pegs,
mirrors, etc., had to be removed to fit all three in the width of the bed, but this was completed and the tie downs were applied to strap
down the load. Between tie downs, bungee cords and rope, everything was secured in shipshape fashion, ready for the balance of the gear to
be put aboard. Kirk arrived at the shop about 1730 hours, changed his clothes, and we all went to Jeannie and Alden’s house to load the rest of the
gear stored in their garage. After this was completed, Jeannie and Alden went inside for a chicken dinner cooked by her mother, while Gene
and Kirk went to the Great Lost Bear for a burger. Everyone said their last good-byes to those remaining behind, and with Gene at the wheel,
off we went.
The trip out was generally uneventful with many jokes and lies told to entertain the participants. Everyone was tense upon leaving but as we traveled further and further from Maine the sense of “getting away” came upon all of us. The excitement level was high as we plugged along to our destination. The trailer with three Harleys’ and a good deal of gear aboard handled very well, and we were pleased to find that everything stayed where we put it, including the tarp we had strapped down covering the load. We stopped every 250 - 300 miles for gas and a stretch, and we checked the load at these times. We all took our turn at the wheel, stopping only for fuel and sustenance, continuing ever westward towards our goal. We drove to South Dakota without stopping except for fuel and food and it is a long way from Maine. Finally, well after more than forty hours drive time, Gene spotted the first sign for Sturgis. He remarked his excitement was as great as when he as a young boy and his folks took him to Disneyland for the first time, an event forever burnished into his memory. |
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The Sturgis Arrival
Friday, August 4th, 1995
Friday, August 4th, 1995
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We were all amazed at the length of time required to drive from Sioux Fails to Rapid City. We were very pleased with ourselves being in South Dakota when we realized that
Rapid City, about thirty-five minutes from our destination in Sturgis, is over 350 miles from Sioux Falls! You need to drive across the entire State, well over six hours.
So onward we traveled...
Finally arriving in Rapid City and then Sturgis, we located Glencoe CampResort and were soon registered at that facility, and scoped out the area. We searched for the right spot and soon located a promising site opposite the RV camp. It was wooded for shade and pleasant. Kirk, due to his camping experience in Civil War re-enacting, was elected to lay out the camp. In a little hollow we pitched our tents among the trees, and named the spot Camp Hawg, Co. H, 3rd Arkansas Volunteers. Kirk unofficially enlisted everyone into his Confederate Regiment. The site was ideal expect perhaps we were a bit in low country in the event of heavy rains. We were first class scooter trash and here to stay. The first order of business was to set up the camp and obtain the necessary items required to be comfortable. Kirk and Gene were designated to secure a picnic table, firewood, and a fire pit (a 55 gallon barrel cut in half), which they accomplished with some alacrity. This isn’t as easy as it would first appear. We were in the camp early so didn’t have much problem. However, there weren’t enough fire pits and picnic tables to go a around; you may come back to camp and learn you had neither – someone had ‘liberated’ yours while you were gone. We couldn’t do much with the fire pit, but we chained the table to a tree. As soon as the trailer was unloaded Mo-Mo started to whine about wanting to ride his hardtail and started to misbehave somewhat. Alden, who was to install the required parts back on the scooters while we tended to other duties, completed this task and we decided to go for a ride. Our first scooter ride in South Dakota was to Bear Butte State Park, very close to our campground. Bear Butte is still regarded by the Plains Indians as a sacred shrine, and we saw that the Lakota were planning a pow-wow when we visited. When you are on or around the butte, it’s kind of like being in church and everyone stays low-key. In honor of our friend and sister, we promptly renamed Bear Butte, 'Jeannie’s Mountain'. This mount was visible very clearly from our campsite, and we knew we would go back when time permitted. It was on the return trip to Camp Hawg when we stopped at an intersection that Kirk had an eye opening experience. Gene took off and really got on Mo-Mo. Kiro, not to be outdone, did the same and was accelerating rapidly; he was cruising right along when all of a sudden a tremendous noise filled the air around him. The first thought he had was that there must be a jet air strip nearby, perhaps an approach pattern for large aircraft or something. About this time he realized what it was; Alden and Jeannie on Hawg-1 flew by at a high rate of speed and continued to accelerate... It was so loud that Kirk couldn’t even hear his own motor; he was amazed at the raw power and engine roar Hawg-1 was displaying. When they finally stopped, Kirk asked Alden to explain the modifications made to the bike; this certainly got his attention and he gained a new respect for this scooter. Alden, being in the business, had bored and stroked this machine along with other modifications and it showed. |
We returned to camp before night fall so we could check things out. We rode around the campground and became familiar with the facility. Later we went out to meet the neighbors. Below us were a group of Texans, several whom were quite familiar with the entire event and were very helpful in explaining various things about the area, how the campground functioned, etc. They told us about several “mandatory rides” that we planned to take. Between us and the road bordering the RV parking, a lone tent stood a quiet sentinel. We discussed this tent and wondered what the occupants would think upon returning and finding our camp sprawled around them. Little did we know what fate had in store for us…
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It was just before dark that two beautiful Harleys’, a Fat Boy and a Heritage, roared into the area near our camp. All eyes were upon the unknown man and woman that arrived
and parked at the lone tent above us. As Kirk and Gene worked on the fire, we spotted the man walking along the road on an errand; he was eyeing us as we spoke of him.
A Short time later he returned and within a few minutes the ice was broken. This was our first introduction to John (Juan Valdez) Galvin. Soon we met his wife, Sonya
(I wanna’ bone ‘ya). These two riders were soon well entrenched in the sty of Camp Hawg, as well as firmly and forever in our hearts... Juan and Sonya were
from California and had ridden out for the week. She indicated she was a prison guard by day and scooter trash by night. She talked of her work experience
and some of the craziness she’d witnessed. We surmised she was one tough woman and a true road dog. It may not have been exactly at this point, perhaps the next day that the Civil War tent was designated the “time out tent”, and it was decided that anyone acting up would have an enforced stay until an attitude adjustment was displayed. This tent was used mostly for storage because it had flaps front and rear with easy access. Several came very close for one reason or another, but we are proud to state that the deterrent apparently was effective as it was never really used much. Let it be known that no group anywhere has spent as much time together and got along as well with so little friction since the dawn of recorded time. (Although we had to threaten Mo-Mo with a spanking from time to time, we didn’t realize until later he likes that kind of thing!) After sitting around the campfire and discussing plans and things in general, we retired, as we were far from recovered from the long journey out. We’d been in the vehicle nearly 50 hours, stopping only for gas and food in brief breaks and sleeping in the van. |
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Day One
Saturday, August 5, 1995
The camp arose not long after sunrise, anxious for our first full day of activities.Saturday, August 5, 1995
Kiro and Mo-Mo decided to cruise into town while everyone got their stuff together for the day. They went to Bob’s for breakfast and were able to park right in front of the restaurant on Main Street as it was still early. It was during this visit that the young lady seating people as they came in appeared quite taken by Gene, and as we ate our eggs and sausage we learned her life’s story. Kirk told her Gene was no good but she didn’t seem dissuaded, but eventually she got busy and went away...
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We returned to the camp and found everyone up and preparing to ride. Juan and Sonya had been invited to join us the night before and so the party was composed of
five scooters and six people. This contingent remained the same throughout our time in the Black Hills; we were like a happy family. It was at this time that Gene
introduced the concept that we were not on vacation at all. We were on Holiday Man! Just like in the Islands.... This quickly spread through the camp and we told
everybody we were indeed on holiday. This phrase was added to “my sister’s a hoe and she don’t look like dat” that was started on the journey out.
Mo-Mo, being a man among men, became the unofficial head scooter trash of our expedition, and took the lead on the road. We decided to start out with a trip to Keystone and a visit to Mount Rushmore. We traveled to Deadwood and ran smack into a parade that caused us to reroute. We backtracked through Sturgis and headed on the highway to Rapid City which we soon realized was a hub of activity. The national HOG (Harley Owners Group) convention was taking place and Rapid City was full of bikes and bikers. We went to the auditorium where the 1996 Harleys were on display and got in line to go in. We quickly learned, however, that without a HOG card we couldn’t enter as we were not in the “chosen few”, in other words, not members. We told them to fuck off and formed our own club right then and there. After all, we are all brothers and sisters in the “Disciples of Alden” (D.O.A.), named after the Master Mechanic himself, and did not appreciate the attitude of those “other people”. We got back on the road heading to Keystone. |
It was at this point that Kiro realized that Mo-Mo had led him astray. Gene in his enthusiasm had convinced Kirk that the head of Jefferson Davis, the first and only President of the Confederate States of America, was carved on the mountain along with Washington and the others. Kirk being a man of Southern inclination, was very exited about this and therefore agreed with Gene that this run should be among the first; after a period of pouting, be accepted the truth and made the best of it...The sculpted heads of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Roosevelt were the dream of Gutzon Borglum, and represent one of the largest pieces of sculpture ever created. He intended to carve them down to the waist but died before he could realize this goal. Each face is 60 feet high and carved with intricate detail. They are truly as great as this country we live in.
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Jeannie later pointed out that we came across a little old lady and her son who was in a wheelchair. After witnessing our “photo-shoot”, this lady told Jeannie
she understood why they called us “hogs”, as we were all such hams! We were to see this fine lady and son several more times during the day. After a tour of
the gift shop, which was quite large, we decided to have an ice cream. Jeannie bought about thirty post cards during this visit, so many that Alden had to help
her carry them out, but the big event was Juan eating his ice cream cone. Yes, yes, you’re thinking, what’s the big deal right? Well, the big deal is that Juan’s
cone weighed in at 25 pounds.... We were content with a single dip cone, but Juan, oh no, he had to go all the way. For a brief time our friend Juan became more
famous than Mount Rushmore. More photographs were taken of him then one of the most famous sites in America; people were rushing in from outside to bear witness,
children were whining and crying because their parents wouldn’t let them have a true double dipped cone like the crazy Mexican. Juan basked in his moment of glory,
and then we moved on to other things... When we left Camp Hawg the weather was warm and very nice. We traveled the highway in our tee shirts and enjoyed the day. While at Mount Rushmore, clouds started to develop and before we arrived at Crazy Horse we were riding in the rain. It got cold, uncomfortably cold and we were happy to put our jackets on. Kirk was riding in an 1862 Alabama style shell coat with corporal of infantry chevrons sewed on; he thought he was a hot shit... We learned our first lesson about riding in South Dakota; always carry your leathers because you never know when you’ll need them. They speak of fickled New England weather but the Dakotas’ are every bit as bad, if not worse. In one day you can go from being comfortable to freezing and then to sunburn weather when it’s down right hot. It’s not improbable to catch a cold from freezing and a nasty sunburn mixed with cold rain in the same day. We Maniacs found the sun very strong and we all started to burn while riding; we soon learned we weren’t the only group in this predicament. |
Upon leaving Mount Rushmore, we followed the road southwest to the Crazy Horse Monument, a carving in progress. This work is being conducted with private funds without support of the State of South Dakota or the Federal government and there was a $4.00 per person charge to enter the grounds. This carving was begun by sculptor Korzak Ziolkowski at the request of the American Indians to honor Crazy Horse and all Native Americans. When completed, it will be the largest monument in the world. The problem is, probably none of us will live long enough to see it completed. The work has not progressed with any noticeable change in a number of years we were informed. I think much of this has to do with money as they wouldn’t accept government funds and were doing the work strictly by donations. At the facility they have an Indian museum, gift shop, and a museum dedicated to Mr. Ziolkowski, all of these are very interesting. Jeannie and the Master viewed the short film offered and became our resident historians for the moment. (We spoke to the little old lady and her son at this stop also). Many photographs were taken here as well, and after about an hour we geared up for the next adventure.
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We decided to tour the Needles Highway and Iron Mountain Road another time and turned our scooters towards the town of Custer. Custer is in the southern Black Hills and it also was established after a major gold discovery in 1874. We went to an old style saloon for some refreshment and planned our return to Sturgis. Gene asked about a place that served buffalo burgers and the waitress pointed out the Rustler Restaurant a few blocks down, which we headed for. We learned from our waitress that the large buffalo mounted on the entrance roof of the building had been one of the beasts created for the movie “Dances with Wolves”. This movie was still big news in the area and many places displayed artifacts, props and signatures of people involved with the filming. The set required many real and built up American Bison, and many of the artificial ones were sold locally as they were no longer needed once the filming was complete. After some discussion, we all ordered a buffalo burger and side dishes. When the feast was complete, several comments were passed. Everyone liked the burgers fine but they weren’t much bigger then a silver dollar. We also learned that what passed for salad in South Dakota was lettuce with some form of dressing applied. We paid the check and jumped on our scooters for our first foray into Custer National Forest, which comprises 73,535 acres of South Dakota.
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We saw some interesting wildlife and some not so wild while riding through this area. Bighorn sheep could be viewed along the way but they weren't as prominate as one may believe; they were kind of elusive actually. We came across several herds of buffalo, American Bison, and we stopped to have our pictures taken with them in the background. Other areas were full of Donkeys that live in these parts and they come down and block the road looking for hand outs. They appeared friendly enough and were sometimes in the way.
As we waited for Jeannie and Alden to exit the restaurant, the rest of us sat on our bikes and looked around. Shortly we saw them come out at which point Kirk stated, “Look at the scooter trash coming out of that restaurant!” in earshot of several parties going into the facility. The looks and stares made us all crack up laughing, particularly when Jeannie and the Master asked what was so funny. We saw Jeannie’s buddy, the little old lady and her son going into the restaurant for a buffalo burger. They said they were returning home so we said our good-byes and off we went. We cruised through a section of the Custer Forest to join a main road to Sturgis. It was this ride that really impressed all of us with the true majesty and beauty of this rugged country. Gene later expressed that he expected the Sioux to ride over the hills at any moment... Maybe it was because the full population of bike week had not yet arrived and there were fewer people around, or perhaps the first look in the forest just worked its magic, but several of us found this exposure to be outstanding and we knew that we were going to have the time of our lives...
We returned to our camp and started the nightly fire. We, Disciples of Alden, (D.O.A.), good friends all, sat around the fire and discussed the wonders of the day, planned events for tomorrow and told our stories.
Day Two
Sunday, August 6, 1995
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Camp Hawg came to life shortly after sunrise. There were complaints about people being awakened so early, “it’s Sunday”, and all that kind of thing, but the average
sleep period was from midnight to 0600 hours nearly everyday at Glencoe. We stayed on the go constantly except for one day that will be mentioned later. Plus there
was a great deal of whooping, hollering, bikes running all hours of the night and day – all kinds of noise and commotion going on in the camp all the time.
If you were a light sleeper this could prove problematic.
Before we continue, there is one issue that should be addressed. By Sunday morning, we had slept in out tents for two nights. Our camp consisted of four tents, Juan and Sonya in theirs, Jeannie and Alden in another, the Civil War tent that was used for storage and “time out”, and Kirk and Gene together in a tent of their own. As stated, by Sunday morning after several nights, the camp was alive with rumors about what was taking place in Gene and Kirk’s tent, you know, the old ribbing, etc., etc. Kirk will assure all of you, nothing happened. He claimed to be so tired and exhausted by the time we crawled into our sleeping bags (which were separate by the way) that nothing could have happened, nor could anything disturb his slumber. He also related that Gene was well known to fall asleep in mid-sentence on several occasions. If the most beautiful woman in Sturgis crawled into the tent to seduce the Captain, he would have asked her to please wait until morning as he was too damn tired; and even then he may have had to ask Mo-Mo to help out. Although he did admit that Gene was starting to look pretty good by Friday and it appears that Gene was getting jealous of the other couples. There was one night that Alden was searching for a bag of pillows after we had gone to sleep. Kirk thought it was a dream but somehow the Master found what he was looking for and went about his business. |
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It was decided that we would go into downtown Sturgis so everyone prepared to ride and off we went. Glencoe is only two miles from the heart of town so the morning ride was not extensive. Sturgis is another town created by the discovery of gold in the Black Hills during the 1874 Custer expedition. Today it has a regular population of around 5,300 persons, except for the event weeks they have when the town swells considerably with tourists. Besides the annual Black Hills Motorcycle Classic, the town sponsors a Balloon Rally on Mother’s Day weekend, the High School Rodeo in June, and the Sturgis Livestock Rodeo in July, so the townspeople are well versed in handling large influxes of people. It is obvious that tourism is an intricate part of the local economy. There are still four working gold mines serviced from the area and jewelry from this product is sold everywhere.
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The Annual Black Hills Motor Classic is a truly unbelievable event. Downtown Sturgis and its environs are something to behold during this period. It is nearly
indescribable, and if you haven’t seen it for yourself you will never fully appreciate any verbal, written, or photographic account you will ever come across.
Being there is almost a feeling, and this feeling can never be properly conveyed by the written word. It is like the Madi Gras, dropping of the ball in Times
Square, a carnival, and the Superbowl, all rolled into one event centered on and around Harley-Davidson motorcycles. Every type of bike, paint job, modification,
customization, etc., you could ever think of can be found to look at, to purchase, or have implemented on your scooter. You can have anything done to your
bike you can imagine provided you’re willing to pay the expense, which could be considerable if done during the event. Walking through the array of
vendors, products and services available was truly amazing. Scooters are one thing; people are something else entirely different.... There is no sight you can not experience if you stay in town long enough. You could sight-see downtown everyday and never tire of what you will witness although your feet may rebel from all the walking. We all agreed that when we returned downtown we would wear comfortable shoes as our riding boots were making us suffer. Riding gear and hot weather are a poor mix when you're off the scoots. As six people created too large a group to keep together in the crowds, we decided to meet at the bikes between 1300 and 1400 hours after our visit, and off we went to shop and check things out. It was still relatively early in the morning but we had to park about four blocks from the head of the street, but we did manage to stay on the main drag. We learned to get into town early if you wished to park in the midst of things. |
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It would be difficult to relate all the wonderful things we witnessed. We took some photographs in town but not many. We just wandered about looking at the people and goods, just having a grand old time. All the stores in Sturgis stop conducting normal business and rent spaces to vendors for the week, so each is slammed packed with motorcycle related stuff to view and purchase. A 5,000 square foot building for example, may have twenty to thirty vendors and booths lining the walls and spaced in islands in the middle of the floor. The alleys and corner areas are stuffed with rows upon rows of food and T shirt vendors, leather shops, parts and accessories shops, dealer displays, etc., all kinds of different things. It would take days to just walk through the many different areas filled with vendors and displays, not counting the time required to stop and shop. By the time we met back at the scoots, it was hot and we were ready for a ride. Juan and Sonya decided to hang out in town longer, so Alden, Jeannie, Gene and Kirk fired up our bikes and headed for the town of Deadwood.
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Deadwood, normal population around 1,800 persons, has only one main street, all that space permits on the floor of Deadwood Gulch. The balance of the town is built
clinging to the steep sides of the canyon surrounding it. The gold rush boom of yesteryear is still apparent in the town of today, and it was a haven for
gunfighters and gamblers in the late 1800’s. The likes of Wild Bill Hickok, who was gunned down during a poker game here on August 2, 1876, Calamity Jane,
Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday, lend historical significance to this town that is very tourist orientated in our time. Gambling was again legalized in 1988
as a source of income to restore the town, and it has been instrumental in its rebirth. Upon arrival in Deadwood we went to ‘Tin Lizzie’s’ for a great lunch.
It was at this facility that the Princess discovered the joys of gambling, and she was hooked the first time a quarter fell into the trough of her slot machine.
She won about $10.00 here between bites, and we convinced her to walk further into town with us where there were other gambling establishments. We did the usual tourist things and located the site of the burned down Saloon #10 where Wild Bill was shot to death. Under the sign marking the spot we posed to have our pictures taken. Actually, we had twenty-six pictures taken below this sign, as Alden wasn’t sure if the camera was functioning or not, so he just kept on snapping them off; the Princess finally caught on and took the camera away from him before the film ran out.... All credit is due the Master though; the plethora of shots he took came out pretty good! |
We rambled over to the Oyster Bay Bar to check out the slots and look the place over. Jeannie started in on the machines while we fooled around here and there, talked to folks and got off our feet a bit. Before we left Deadwood the Princess had won $27.00 in quarters which she carried around in a bowl. She had Alden guarding this bowl, which she wouldn’t let him (or anyone else) carry, and he guarded it at all times. The Princess later told us this money was to form the nucleus of her funds for Sturgis 1996; what a woman! After awhile, Jeannie’s arm started to get sore from cranking the slot machine handle, and we were able to convince her to leave town. (At least she claimed her arm was sore from the machines, anyone see those “best hand jobs in town” photos?) The sun was high and strong and we were ready for a cruise and the opportunity to get into the wind. We decided to return to Camp Hawg via the shortest route, and with Mo-Mo in the lead we headed out.
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It was on this run that trouble reared its ugly head. On the highway Mo-Mo shut down with an apparent electrical problem. As we were on holiday, everybody, including Gene, took this in stride and the Master commenced to analyze the problem. His prognosis was not good we soon learned, the generator was not functioning and couldn’t be repaired on the road. After some discussion we decided to leave Alden with the bike alongside the road, while Jeannie and Gene returned to camp on Hawg-1 with Kiro following. At camp we would gear up the trailer and return, load the bike and head in. The sun was very strong and Alden was in an area where shade was non-existent, but we figured the round trip would not take very long, and that he would be fine.
Things did not work out exactly as planned. We returned to camp, made our preparations, and started back. On the way out, Gene asked the gate attendant about a better route back to where Alden was. Sturgis was a large parking lot and it took a long time to negotiate the traffic going through town. Gene was told of another route and we decided to take this advice, unfortunately as things turned out, the estimated travel time was way off and we were quite sometime returning to where Alden was waiting in the hot sun in an area devoid of shade. Finally arriving at the site, needless to say, Alden was very pleased to see us and more than curious as to what took so long. Mo-Mo was loaded in short order and the Master jumped into the van’s front seat to try and cool down some on the trip to Camp Hawg. Although things turned out OK and we laugh about it now, we learned a valuable lesson about carrying a canteen in our travels. As Kirk brought two C.W. era replica canteens, we made certain that we kept at least one with us in our travels afterwards. Gene also learned from operating Hawg-1, that he liked having shocks on a scooter; his 1953 Panhead hardtail was a rough ride. We returned to Camp Hawg about 7:00 PM and explained to John and Sonya what had transpired to make us so late. Once the sun had gone down a bit more, Alden set up shop and got Mo-Mo back in running order for the next cruise.
We ate supper at the camp facility and returned to start the nightly fire. We sat around conversing and took our medicine, discussing the events of the day and planning for tomorrow. We were all pretty much beat as the sun had been brutal and strong throughout the day, much stronger then we were used to in Maine, and all of us had nasty and painful sun & wind burns on whatever parts of our skin were exposed when riding or walking around. The men went off to take showers while the ladies awaited our return. We generally tried to have someone in camp when the scooters were present although we had no inclination of trouble in our area. After some further discussion, we all headed off for our tents for the evening after another fantastic day.
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Perhaps now is a good time to inform our readers about the Glencoe shower facilities… The showers utilize a gas fired hot water system that provides a
hot water mix into the shower flow stream, but let us all inform you, it didn’t work worth a damn! A few times the showers were warm, once even hot,
but we took several showers that would curl your hair and turn it white...The water supply for the camp showers must come from the top of some vastly high,
very cold mountain-top, or, perhaps from the deepest bowels of the planet in order to be as cold as it was shooting from those nozzles.
Grown men were known to cry trying to stand in those stalls of misery; this was truly an awful thing to view and hear; tough, hardened scooter
trash whimpering in distress and agony as their raw hamburger colored skin burned by the sun, tried to remove the road grime from their bodies
in water so cold their balls turned blue. It is good that the owner of Glencoe CampResort was not known to the general populace of campers in
those showers, there was talk of death and tortures so hideous that one shudders to think about them in a civilized setting. But, all things
considered, you felt pretty good once it was over!
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Monday, August 7th, 1995
Camp Hawg showed signs of activity once again around 0600 hours. Something should be pointed out about our camp life that may not be polite but is certainly part of life...
To take a leak or otherwise enjoy the facilities at Glencoe, can often be a very trying expirience. Everybody in the known universe gets up in the morning and goes to the bathroom,
lets face it folks, this is true. Well, at Glencoe, unless you get up around 0500 hours, you’re going to wait in line, and wait, and wait... If you have an urgent problem
you may well be in for a major disappointment. Once you’ve waited in line and your turn comes, you remember why you hate coming to these toilets immediately. Rather than continue
a long discourse about the toilets, a short description of one toilet house may suffice: A plywood and 2x4 framed building with four stalls on each side; these are divided by a
plywood partition with no lighting except what infiltrates through the cracks in daytime; at night you better have exceptional night visison or a flashlight, if not you’re in trouble.
The basis of the facility
is a 16 inch PVC pipe that dumps into a large pit below, where the refuse is pumped out daily into a tank truck. On the business end of this pipe, you will find a plywood
frame with a toilet seat attached, which is self explanatory.... There is no possibility that a human being could ever cause a blockage with this system, but after four or
five days of usage by thousands of people waiting in line, it is something to behold and smell; by the way, they do clean these, twice a day they open the door and hose
everything down, close the door, and walk away. We soon learned to ‘enjoy the facilities’ when we toured, and saved the CampResort toilets for emergencies only. We were
not above taking a leak anywhere we could after dark. This saved walking and waiting, and allowed a person to pee with a little more dignity... Kirk being well versed
from years of construction showed the guys how to take a leak behind the open door of a vehicle which we usually did after sundown but would do in daytime if it just had to be done.
We had discussed several tour possibilities from the “must do” list, and we selected and planned a trip to Devils Tower in Wyoming. We decided to have breakfast on the road after putting a few miles behind us, so we revved up and started out. As we commenced our journey, it became apparent we were in for a real scorcher of a day as the sun was in its full glory early in the morning. Today was the first day we wore our “uniform of the day” tank tops purchased yesterday so were were kind of dressed alike.
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Even at this early hour the heat from the road was very noticeable and we had concerns for the mid-day period. Juan and Sonya had a good deal more experience with this type of riding as
they travel desert routes around California and they understood what was in store. It became extremely hot and Alden was concerned about the motors as we saw bikes on the side of
the road with unsettling regularity. Riding the Black Hills while quickly & easily evaluate the condition of one's motorcycle.
Before we crossed the State line into Wyoming, Mo-Mo’s electrical system went down once again. We pulled over, reviewed the situation and our
options. It was here that Alden the wonder mechanic showed his stuff. Now you think that the ride ended right here don’t you? You think that you’re going to read that we
left someone behind and went after the trailer (again)... Wrong on all counts- Alden formulated a plan to save the day! Perhaps it was his recent wait in the sun, perhaps not,
the truth may only be known as the Master’s legend grows and his fame spreads throughout the land. In any event, he announced he must have electrical wire. “Electrical wire!
Are you shitting me Alden!” we exclaimed together in anguish, “We are out here in the middle of east bug-fuck preparing to incinerate when the sun gets just a bit higher”.
To shorten the tale of woe, the following is what happened: Kirk and Juan were dispatched to the closest town, Beulah, Wyoming, population 33, (no exaggeration, it is really 33!), to quest for wire. There is a general store in town and we arrived and politely made our request of the nice lady. It was obvious we were screwed by the look on her face, but she pointed to a nearby garage and said to go over there and ask the guy if he had any we could purchase. We rode over to a large truck bay garage and found a man polishing a dump truck. We asked with our most polite voice if he had about ten feet of wire we could buy, and he said he would take a look. Well, low and behold he found just the right thing and measured off exactly 10 feet. He asked how much it was worth to us, and after having already explained about Mo-Mo shitting the bed, we felt uncomfortable with this response. After all, it would be worth a great deal to us to not be stranded on the road. $3.00 was the amount rendered from recollection. Our quest successfully completed, we returned in triumph to our group. |
Giving Alden the wire, he pulled the battery from Hawg-1 and stuck it in the saddlebag of Mo-Mo. He removed the exhausted battery from Mo-Mo, installed it in Hawg-1, and wired it up. Using the wire we purchased, he established a connection to the saddlebag battery and told Gene to start the bike, which was promptly accomplished. He later explained that Hawg-1 would charge the depleted battery while the good battery would keep MoMo running as a temporary measure. Pretty resourceful don’t you think? Alden grew in our esteem an immeasurable amount after this situation. Juan seemed very impressed with the solution to this predicament and stated so. There are two honorable mentions from Camp Hawg for this event. The laurels of course, go to the Master for his inventiveness and expertise, also an honorable mention is required for Juan and Sonya. When we told them to go ahead and enjoy the day instead of waiting in the hot sun while we tried to get the bike running, Juan commented, “No man, I won’t leave a brother broken down...” Great answer Juan, that’s what we would have said, and that’s why we love you guys so much! Oh, by the way, “Nothing for you Gene! Three strikes and you’re out, we know you only broke your scooter to get more attention; you and Mo-Mo are hitting the time-out tent upon our return, this shit on a daily basis is becoming old news.” We cannot remember exactly who said this, and the quote may not be exact...
After we were up and running we crossed into Wyoming and saw the signs for Beulah which indicated a restaurant. By this time we were all hungry and ready for something to eat. Kirk and Juan wondered about this as there isn’t much of anything in town, but figured we would check it out. The “restaurant” turned out to be a mobile food vendor which we had no interest in patronizing, so we left town and got back on the highway... Jeannie photographed a biker’s monument in Beulah before we left. The town of Sundance is about ten to twelve miles from Beulah. We had to turn off here to take the road to Devils Tower and came to a restaurant almost immediately. We were all prepared to seek food so we pulled in.
Sundance, Wyoming, population around 1,000 persons, lies at the foot of Sundance Mountain, so named because the Sioux Indians held councils and religious ceremonies there, at a place they called Wi Wacippi Paha, or Temple of the Sioux. Local history also indicates that Harry Longbaugh, the “Sundance Kid”, of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid fame, assumed this name while incarcerated in the Crook County Jail nearby (he’d been arrested for horse stealing, a capital crime in those days). This was a beautiful ride through a rugged, very hot and arid section of country. We stopped for breakfast at the Log Cabin Restaurant which was really excellent, by far one of the best food stops we encountered to date. We noted the location as we were interested in stopping at this facility again should our travels bring us back to this region.
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It is time for a Camp Hawg note for future reference: We all love Gene as much as is humanly possible, and we have no problem with he being the unofficial leader of our
clan on the road because it’s always better to keep that crazy bastard ahead where on can see and keep an eye on him. He was proven to very adept at planning and charting
the different rides and schedules, however, in future we learned, do not let Mo-Mo decide when to stop for sustenance. Gene just does not want to stop his scooter for any
reason; he figures why stop now when you can just keep on riding and riding and riding... Had we not located this restaurant, we were considering mutiny and a state of
hateful discontent. We were on Holiday and didn’t enjoy his idea of an endurance test. Food, of course, put us all in better spirits and we continued on our way.
The trip to Devils Tower took another thirty minutes or so. We stopped alongside the road to view the tower in the distance, took photos, etc. While we were stopped, a group of bikes came by that left us amazed by the magnitude of the group. This was one of the tours that were organized in Sturgis, and they made various runs everyday in very large contingents. Too many bikes we decided, too many for us to travel with, we thought as they passed. We came to Devils Tower National Monument and were awed by the entire spectacle. This National Monument occupies 1,347 acres in the area between Sundance and Hulett, and the Devils Tower is the most conspicuous landmark in northeastern Wyoming. The tower rises 867 feet from its base and has a 1.5 acre top that supports a growth of sagebrush and grass. We did not see the top of course, really had no interest in doing so. The way to the top is by rope in a nearly vertical climb. We witnessed people doing this and found it to be something else indeed... The tower was formed by an ancient volcanic core of rock that was superheated and cooled. Over time the land eroded away around the cooled rock, and it was left exposed, looking very much like a gigantic tree stump. The vertical rises are fluted in appearance and are really quite amazing. This was our country's first National monument, and was so declared by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1906. Many of us have seen this from the movie, ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’ with Richard Dryfess, so you may have seen it before. We didn’t remain at Devils Tower any great length of time. It was very busy as were all the places we visited and as the day progressed it got hot, very uncomfortably hot for us Northeasters. We decided to make it an early day anyway, so fired up the scooters and headed towards Camp Hawg. Returning through Sundance, Gene decided to stop and let the bikes cool down somewhat, this was an issue that Alden frequently addressed. Not only are our bikes under his care, he loves them all as individuals, and yes, even the Evo Kirk was riding... We dismounted at a tavern looking kind of place and ordered iced tea or whatever, talked and looked around. We struck up a conversation with a family of four and soon learned the wife had lived in the Portland area for a bit, (Maine – remember out here, Portland brings Oregon to mind immediately) and she was excited to find we were familiar with many of the places she remembered. Mo-Mo was talking to her husband who mentioned that he was from Oklahoma. Of course, Gene asked where in Oklahoma, and by the greatest coincidence, learned they were from the same hometown of Holdenville. Gene was completely blown away by this, he had not talked to anyone from there for a long while, and they discussed the area and people they remembered in detail. The Master reminded Gene that his scooter was still on a temporary fix and that we should not plan to extend the ride until these issues were resolved. We learned that the generator problem was not new, but it had been determined before we left Maine that Mo-Mo could make it through the week. As this was not the case, it was decided to install an alternator and change the system to correct the problem. Therefore, we determined to return to Sturgis to find the required parts to set things right. This isn’t a simple matter actually; Mo-Mo is a 1953 Panhead Harley and parts for this machine aren’t that easy to come by. |
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We rode through Sturgis returning to Camp Hawg about 3:00 in the afternoon. We decided to take showers to dispel the heat of the sun and the hard ride we had just accomplished. After everyone was through and rested somewhat, Gene, Kirk, Alden and the Princess decided to go into town and begin a quest for an alternator or generator. Looking for the parts in the usual places in Sturgis we found the solution was far from simple. Most places could order a part for delivery later in the week, but we could not locate one to carry back to camp. We had taken the van on this quest and all went together leaving the scooters in camp where the Hombre and Sonya remained. Gene was adamant that he would check every place where a possibility existed that he may find the required parts to get his bike up and squared away. We made many stops and at the end of each unsuccessful foray, the people would recommend another place to try and things began to look bleaker by the minute. On the other side of town Gene was directed to check one area that had three potential parts stores, so we headed over to take a look. As parking was at a premium, Jeannie and Kirk stayed with the van so Alden and Gene could travel on foot to check out the remaining places.
Kirk and the Princess were left in the van feeling a bit uncomfortable, as we parked at the end of an active driveway blocking it totally. We were in the vehicle which isn’t normally a problem except that the law in Sturgis will arrest you and search your vehicle for no reason out of the ordinary. The local law enforcement will not take any shit whatsoever and will look for you to do something stupid (like we were doing) to screw with you. As stated, we were uncomfortable and Kirk was telling the Princess that the quest was doomed and he suspected that they would never return with a generator or alternator for a 1953 Panhead, after all, what were the chances? Kirk stayed in the van in case it had to be moved but Jeannie left to purchase something to drink as we were both quite thirsty, and still suffering from the heat. As she walked away, he noticed a man approach the Princess and commence to speak with her, a point that made him take notice (nobody better bother the Princess that the Captain knows about)... Later he found out this stranger was seeking directions. Not long after Kiro complained about the failure of the quest, miracle of miracles, Gene and Alden appeared and they had found a generator.... Great news indeed!
The trip into town searching had taken considerable time and effort, hours in fact, and we were pleased to return to Camp Hawg. Alden decided to wait for the sun to go down hoping the weather would cool before working on Mo-Mo, so we sat around and talked about things. We ate hamburgers at the campground facility and returned so the Master could begin his task. First thing, Alden realized, the old gasket connecting the generator had been glued in place making it unable to be used in a second application. Somebody would have to return to town to find either a gasket or some silicon.... Kirk thought, “Oh, not again!”, because he knew who would be going. Surer than shit, he and Gene jumped in the van for another adventure in the crowds and traffic. Previous to our departure, we were assigned several other items to pick up in our travels. The Princess requested Solarcain for sunburn relief as we could not stand anymore sun after this day, sunblock, and drinking water for use of the camp. As it was everyone you viewed that had been riding had ‘raccoon eyes’ and we saw some with really nasty sunburns, the debilitating kind. With these items in mind, off we went.
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Surprisingly, we located a gasket with relative ease at our first stop, which was a motorcycle parts store. They didn’t have silicon which we thought odd, but they may have been sold out.
As it turned out, the other items required some searching. We quickly learned several things: 1) People in South Dakota have never heard of Solarcain.... the response was always the
same when we inquired, ‘What?’ 2) Sunblock was more valuable than Black Hills gold at the moment, it was in huge demand everywhere in Sturgis and the outlying areas; the sun was killing
everybody it appears, not just us. We eventually came to a small supermarket and located the last bottle of #15 sunblock in the Dakota territories. We paid $9.40 for four ounces of
Coppertone, and were very happy to get it! Bear in mind this was after probably three or four stops at different stores, all who had vast expanses of shelf space where the sunburn
prevention articles are normally kept. We also purchased a bottle of sunburn relief lotion that contained aloe in lieu of the unknown Solarcain; we figured something was better
than nothing and there were no remaining options. Later we found this product worked very well and were pleased with the relief it furnished our burned and aching shoulders.
The water wasn’t nearly as difficult to locate and we returned with several gallons. We made our triumphal entry into Camp Hawg feeling once again like heroes. The gasket
worked fine and the Master put Mo-Mo back together in record time, ready for the road and the next day’s touring. With our tasks completed, we all kicked back to relax,
started the nightly fire and conversed.
As everyone was pretty much beat by the sun and our “chores”, we may have gone to bed a bit earlier than usual this night. Before this happened though, we took our medicine, told our stories and reminiscences of the day, basked in our friendship and camaraderie, and dreamed of our scooter rides to come in this rugged and beautiful land. |
