Rick Long's Stories
December 04,
2005
2005
What I Did On My Summer Vacation 2005
By Rick Long
For the past two years, my summer vacation has been a long motorcycle trip to the BMW Motorcycle
Owners of America National Rally. Last year, the event was held in Spokane, Washington. This year, the trip
takes me to the Allen County Fairgrounds in Lima, Ohio. MapQuest says this should be about 2400 miles one-
way. Whew!
Many thanks must first go out to my wife, Theresa, who could not attend the rally this year due to work
commitments, yet still agreed to wave goodbye as I left and hello upon my return. Thanks are also extended to
Bruce Anderson, who made the trip along with me. I had not previously made a trip longer than 350 miles by
myself and was glad to have the company.
Travel logs are tedious so I will stick with the method I developed for last year’s story: reporting the â
€œBest of the Best.â€�
The Best Sign
We leave southern California on a Sunday with the goal of reaching Ohio by mid-day on Thursday. This doesnâ
€™t leave much time for goofing off but I always take time to put a sign on the back of my bike that says
something about the rally. This year the sign reads “On the road to Beemerville,� in honor of the official
name of the 2005 event.
In a few days, this sign will lead to one of the best moments of the trip. More on this a little later
The Hottest Day
Our route out of SoCal is north on I-15 through Las Vegas, Nevada, on up to I-70 East. The temperature is
118 degrees as we pass through Vegas. I don’t care if it is a “dry heat,� it’s still hot!
Dehydration and blood clots are the biggest threats on trips where you will be sitting for long periods of time.
There’s a reason they serve you free soda and salty snacks on airline flights. My Camelback water-
backpack system is a true lifesaver this day. I sip ice cold water as we fly down the road. I don’t leave
home on a long trip without this wonderful accessory.
The Most Interesting Character
We stop for the night in a small rural town. We meet several people at the hotel and at dinner but the most
interesting character is Limo Dan (the names have been changed to protect the innocent).
The hotel clerk tells us we can find a decent dinner at a local pizza joint. As we are pulling the bikes into the
gravel parking lot, I notice a stretch limo with a driver standing by the front of the vehicle waving at our bikes.
He’s wearing a cowboy hat, which is not unusual for the area, but he is also sporting a stuffed toy money
around his neck. I think to myself, “This guy I’ve got to meet.�
Limo Dan runs a limousine service and flight school (this is not a typo) having already retired from his first
career as a fast food employee. Yes, there are people in the world who put in 20 years in fast food and think
that a small town can support a limo service and flight school. He asks a few questions about the bikes, talks
some about the limo business, and shares a lot about Jesus. I never ask about the monkey. Somehow I just
don’t want to know.
He tells us that he is related to most of the workers in the pizza place. Later we learn that he is mainly an ex-
relative and is banned from many businesses in town just for being too odd. I guess wearing the toy monkey
around his neck did the trick. Perhaps they just don’t appreciate his unique manner.
They say the world would be a boring place if we all had the same personality. I suppose this is true, but not if
we all had the same personality as Limo Dan.
The Best Road Sign
We are rolling east on I-70 in Colorado and come by one of those little signs that tell who has agreed to
maintain the next stretch of highway. This sign reads, “The Colorado Friends of John Denver.� A little
tear wells up in my eyes over that one.
I like many styles of music. Yes, I’m a traditional biker who likes Steppenwolf, 38 Special, and other
classic rock bands. But I have other moods as well and one of those moods calls out for the sound of John
Denver. In the many small town radio stations across this country, his music will live forever beside the likes of
Patsy Cline, Buddy Holly, and others that mainstream mass market radio has left in the dust. To ride through
the Rockies and be reminded that John Denver still has some friends and supporters here makes for a nice
moment. Such moments are the reason I take these long trips.
The Best Tasting Crow
At a recent Chaparral Riders meeting, several of my Harley friends told about their July 4th trip to Hollister,
California. One of the riders had a few bolts rattle off his bike and had to stop at a Harley-Davidson dealership
for repairs. I like to think about the BMW motorcycle’s reputation for high reliability and trouble-free
riding when I hear such tales. I’d better not laugh too loudly though.
We stop in Kansas City for the night at a hotel right next to a Harley dealer who is still open at 7:30 pm. Iâ
€™m coming out of the hotel office, which turned us down for a room by the way, and notice that my BMW
has lost two nuts from under the engine and is just about to drop two more. The nuts hold on a kick-plate that
protects the engine during rough off-road riding.
The worst part is that the nearest BMW dealer is another 250 miles from here. I’m right next to a Harley
shop but they can’t help me with my “metric� problem and surely would have a laugh at a BMW
rider having any type of mechanical issue. I quickly switch the two remaining nuts to opposing bolts and the
next morning ride to St. Louis BMW for replacements. The new one’s have nylon inserts and won’t
come loose. German engineers occasionally make mistakes but they usually correct them once they are known.
At the next Chaparral Riders meeting, I tell this story and am promptly voted the “Stinky� award for the
month. This means I have to ride my motorcycle with a stuffed animal (skunk) attached to it until someone else
does something equally embarrassing.
The Best Surprise
While looking for the BMW shop in St. Louis, I stop to consult the MapQuest route I printed at the hotel the
night before. As I’m getting the map out of my pocket, a car pulls up beside me and the driver hands a
booklet out the window. He says, “I’ve been following you for miles and wanted you to have this.�
It turns out that the booklet is the official program for the BMW rally we are to attend. The man in the car tells
me that his company got the printing contract and he had worked extensively on the layout. He saw the sign on
the back of my bike and recognized the name of the rally from the cover of the booklet. Now Bruce and I are
the first rally attendees to have a program booklet and we aren’t even there yet. Very cool!
The Best Detour
I-70 East would take us almost all the way to the rally site but my brother-in-law Robert, truck driver and avid
Harley rider, called to say, “Stay off I-70 east of Indianapolis. It’s under heavy construction and youâ
€™ll sit for two hours waiting to get through.â€� I believe him. He sat for two hours the day before on that
same stretch of highway.
We head north out of Indy on I-69 then take state road 18 through the farmlands toward Ohio. Road
construction is also to be a problem in this area. A poorly marked detour and me too cheap to buy a GPS
before the trip puts us in the middle of corn fields near the small town of Fort Recovery. There is a nice gas
stop/convenience store there run by a group of friendly employees who set us back on the road to the rally in
short order.
Sometimes being lost takes you to unique places you might have otherwise bypassed. The farmlands of Ohio
show strong Catholic influence from the late 1800’s. Large brick churches with towering steeples dot the
landscape with some so close that you can see the steeple of the next one from the one you are driving by
now. They mark the small communities that I think are still the heart of this wonderful country.
The Best Rally
Arriving at the rally site is an emotional experience for me. As I’m pulling in the parking lot of the
fairgrounds and drive through a sea of BMW motorcycles it occurs to me that, “I made it here. I actually
made it here!� By the end of the rally, 8041 members of the BMW Motorcycle Owners of America, the
largest attendance ever, would make the same claim.
We’ve come 2400 miles, seen beautiful country, met interesting people, survived the trip without an
accident, all to come to this place at this time and share a few days with like-minded riders. Riders who are
brave enough to choose a bike that holds only 4% of the US motorcycle market. Riders brave enough to risk
riding through states that have no dealership to help them should a breakdown occur. We rely only on a book
of MOA members willing to publicly print their contact info and invite calls from stranded riders. You get the
idea. When you ride BMW, you ride alone much of the time.
A BMW rally is somewhat more like a conference than a rally in that you have training sessions about riding
skills, tech sessions with BMW corporate engineers, seminars on how to setup bikes for shorter riders and the
list goes on. David Hough, famous motorcycle safety author, hosts “Coffee with Dave� each morning
where riders can ask questions of this seasoned motorcycle expert.
There’s some drinking and carousing that goes on too. The German influence at the beer tent is not lost on
this group. Non-alcoholic beer is free and fine for me. Bands play every night and George Thorogood and the
Delaware Destroyers play a concert on site just for rally attendees.
Like the Harley riders, BMW bikers want to customize their machines too. The Remus exhaust booth is doing
a booming business (no pun intended). I come by that booth at midnight more than once and see bikes still
lined up waiting for new exhausts. The tech is dutifully working into the wee hours in the back of his â
€œmotorcycle shop on wheelsâ€� trailer. We will pass by this trailer days later on the way home. He waves
big at us on our BMWs. He’s had a good rally and earned some serious money.
BMW riders aren’t cheapskates. One vendor is selling custom made boots with the BMW logo on the
front. The boots are made specifically to fit your feet which they measure at the rally. The price for this fine
footwear? $1800.00 a pair. The line starts over there. (I wasn’t in it!) I talk with the couple that run the
booth and they are nice people from Minnesota that attend a few rallies in the summer to take orders and then
spend the winter together in their home working to make the shoes. Not a bad way to make a living or a
marriage.
I patronize the food vendors at rallies. These people work hard to bring their booths and supplies to the rally
sites and should be rewarded for it. My favorite this year is a burger/fry/hot dog stand run by a single Mom,
her two girls, and one neighbor girl. That mom can boss those kids but good. She keeps them hopping. Seems
there’s no enforcement of child labor laws in this part of the state so the girls learn to make haste, not
waste, and do so most of the day and early evening. They run a clean operation and I tell the mom so.
I also talk with a man who helps his mother and father run a German food booth. This place is packed
constantly throughout the rally. Another food vendor with long lines is run by a grandma and grandpa who
prepare homemade ice cream right on site using a large ice cream maker powered by an antique John Deere
engine known as a “Poppin’ Johnnie.� The weather is hot and the ice cream tastes good. The line
starts way back there and I am in it!
The rally is best summed up by the little ole’ lady that runs the Hawaiian Ice slushy booth. I ask on the last
day if she is having a good time at the rally. She tells me that she and her husband retired 12 years ago and
purchased this booth to have something to do and to make a little money. In all that time, they have never met
a nicer group of people than the BMW riders. No one cut in line, no one fussed about the product, and
everyone had a smile on their face. She said they definitely would be at the next rally if at all possible. I think
that says it all right there.
The Best 10-minute Friend
I learned about something called “10-minute friends� at this rally. Camping across the way from me was
James from Louisville, Kentucky. I crawl out of my tent one evening and he yells over, “Hungry? Help me
out over here.�
Seems his neighbor had brought an ice chest full of food that is going to waste and he agrees to help with the
barbeque. I agree to help eat and the deal is done. He grills steaks and veggies and it is good. We talk for a
while about BMWs and the rally.
James says, “Most of the people you meet at a rally are 10-minute friends. You will greet each other, talk
for a while, and then you’ll be off to do something and they will too and you will never see each other in
life ever again. Don’t let that cheapen the experience. It is what it is. Enjoy your 10-minute friends and be
satisfied with that.�
This is good advice for anyone who likes to attend motorcycle rallies. I meet several 10-minute friends over the
three and a half days of this year’s rally. I learn things from them, listen to their stories, tell a few stories
myself, and will most likely never ever see them again. That’s OK. That’s all it’s supposed to be.
The Best Family Advice
The first stop after the BMW rally is Ottumwa, Iowa, to visit with my sister, Beverly, who teaches at Indian
Hills Junior College. The family advice is given by her and intended for two of her daughters. They are heading
out on a trip of their own that will include a visit with their grandfather, my dad.
“Don’t tell granddad you saw Rick here. You’ll get an ear full!� To put it mildly, my dad is not
a fan of motorcycling. To hear that I was in Iowa on the bike and in the midst of a 6,000 mile trip would have
led to quite a tirade. It still may someday but at least the girls will be back at home out of earshot.
The Best Time to Visit Sturgis
We rolled into Sturgis after spending a day roaming around Mount Rushmore, Custer, and Rapid City. Bruce
and I got separated at Mount Rushmore and since neither of our cell phones had local service in that area, we
managed to catch up to one another at a hotel in Spearfish.
There is a back road from Spearfish to Sturgis, ALT 14, and I find it to be one of the most beautiful roads of
the entire trip. Farmlands have a charm all their own. It’s best to slow the pace down and enjoy the green
fields and red barns. Several deer are grazing along the edges of the fields, another good reason to slow down
a bit and enjoy the evening.
It’s about 10 days before the big rally. Downtown Sturgis is deserted, save for a few tent-based
businesses that are making last minute preparations for the onslaught. I ride the length of Main Street twice
before heading back to Spearfish. Very cool.
The Funniest Sight
There is a tie this year for funniest sight. The first involves the shower trailer back at the rally. I’m standing
in line to get my shower one morning and a young boy and his father are in line in front of me. All of a sudden,
a man walks out of the shower trailer and heads for the camping area wearing a towel on his head and
absolutely nothing else.
The young boy tugs at his dad’s sleeve and says, “Dad, do you think he knows he’s not wearing
any pants?�
The dad replies, “I don’t know Son but it looks like he’s headed back over to where his people
would be camped. Let’s just let them tell him.�
The second funniest sight is seen along the road home somewhere in Wyoming. We are at a rest area and I
notice a Honda Gold Wing traveling along the freeway pulling a trailer. Nothing strange about that but on the
trailer is another motorcycle. So I ask myself, “Is he riding or is he trailering?� I’m confused!
The Best Gunfight
We pull into the Cody Motor Lodge after a long day of riding from the western edge of South Dakota almost
all the way across Wyoming. The legends of the Old West are alive and well in Cody, Wyoming. As we start
to unpack the bikes, the hotel clerk calls out to us, “Be sure to get the bikes unpacked before 6 pm â
€˜cause that’s when the gunfight starts.â€�
She explains that during the warmer months, a local group puts on a fake gunfight every evening in front of the
Irma Hotel. The hotel was built by Buffalo Bill for his daughter, Irma, and is still in operation. It is also known
as one of the best places in town for dinner.
We head down the street in time to catch the action along with about 300 other tourist. The group includes five
men and two women who put on quite a show. They begin by working the crowd and identifying the oldest
and youngest tourists and any members of the military. All of them get an autographed poster. Next is a gun
safety demonstration for the kids. The group then puts on a play that pits the good guys against the bad guys in
classic western fashion. They really know how to involve the crowd in the show and everyone loves it.
An annual motorcycle event called Cody Thunder Rally is going on at the time I am in town. This simple
weekend gathering includes a poker run, lots of music, and some of the most beautiful riding country I’ve
ever experienced. I’m going back for this one again and again. I truly fell in love with Cody, Wyoming.
The Longest Day
A long trip is an event that first leads to much anticipation, then unfolds into a time of great enjoyment, and at
some point winds down to a soon-to-be-memory-yet-not-quite finished chore to be wrapped up. From Cody
to home is just over 1100 miles. We make it in two days.
The longest day is the last day on the road. It’s Saturday and Bruce and I are riding separately today.
There is something about spending Saturday night in your own home with your woman at your side that will
motivate this biker to make 600 miles in the worst of conditions. I stop for lunch at the Iron Skillet restaurant
near the Las Vegas Speedway. The outside temperature is hovering around 120 degrees Fahrenheit.
My wife tells me over the cell phone that it’s thunder storming at home and that I should find some shade
and hang out for a while. I have an elderly uncle in Vegas that could use a visit. A quick phone call to him and
my afternoon in the shade is set.
By early evening, I’m dodging the last few rain clouds in southern Nevada and blasting through the ensuing
darkness toward Forest Falls, California. I’ve not seen home in two weeks but will sleep there tonight. Itâ
€™s been a great trip; all 5,700 miles of it.
The next morning, as I’m unpacking my gear, I open the Road Atlas one more time. I put a little star by
Burlington, Vermont, the site of next year’s rally. Now that’s going to be a long trip!
By Rick Long
For the past two years, my summer vacation has been a long motorcycle trip to the BMW Motorcycle
Owners of America National Rally. Last year, the event was held in Spokane, Washington. This year, the trip
takes me to the Allen County Fairgrounds in Lima, Ohio. MapQuest says this should be about 2400 miles one-
way. Whew!
Many thanks must first go out to my wife, Theresa, who could not attend the rally this year due to work
commitments, yet still agreed to wave goodbye as I left and hello upon my return. Thanks are also extended to
Bruce Anderson, who made the trip along with me. I had not previously made a trip longer than 350 miles by
myself and was glad to have the company.
Travel logs are tedious so I will stick with the method I developed for last year’s story: reporting the â
€œBest of the Best.â€�
The Best Sign
We leave southern California on a Sunday with the goal of reaching Ohio by mid-day on Thursday. This doesnâ
€™t leave much time for goofing off but I always take time to put a sign on the back of my bike that says
something about the rally. This year the sign reads “On the road to Beemerville,� in honor of the official
name of the 2005 event.
In a few days, this sign will lead to one of the best moments of the trip. More on this a little later
The Hottest Day
Our route out of SoCal is north on I-15 through Las Vegas, Nevada, on up to I-70 East. The temperature is
118 degrees as we pass through Vegas. I don’t care if it is a “dry heat,� it’s still hot!
Dehydration and blood clots are the biggest threats on trips where you will be sitting for long periods of time.
There’s a reason they serve you free soda and salty snacks on airline flights. My Camelback water-
backpack system is a true lifesaver this day. I sip ice cold water as we fly down the road. I don’t leave
home on a long trip without this wonderful accessory.
The Most Interesting Character
We stop for the night in a small rural town. We meet several people at the hotel and at dinner but the most
interesting character is Limo Dan (the names have been changed to protect the innocent).
The hotel clerk tells us we can find a decent dinner at a local pizza joint. As we are pulling the bikes into the
gravel parking lot, I notice a stretch limo with a driver standing by the front of the vehicle waving at our bikes.
He’s wearing a cowboy hat, which is not unusual for the area, but he is also sporting a stuffed toy money
around his neck. I think to myself, “This guy I’ve got to meet.�
Limo Dan runs a limousine service and flight school (this is not a typo) having already retired from his first
career as a fast food employee. Yes, there are people in the world who put in 20 years in fast food and think
that a small town can support a limo service and flight school. He asks a few questions about the bikes, talks
some about the limo business, and shares a lot about Jesus. I never ask about the monkey. Somehow I just
don’t want to know.
He tells us that he is related to most of the workers in the pizza place. Later we learn that he is mainly an ex-
relative and is banned from many businesses in town just for being too odd. I guess wearing the toy monkey
around his neck did the trick. Perhaps they just don’t appreciate his unique manner.
They say the world would be a boring place if we all had the same personality. I suppose this is true, but not if
we all had the same personality as Limo Dan.
The Best Road Sign
We are rolling east on I-70 in Colorado and come by one of those little signs that tell who has agreed to
maintain the next stretch of highway. This sign reads, “The Colorado Friends of John Denver.� A little
tear wells up in my eyes over that one.
I like many styles of music. Yes, I’m a traditional biker who likes Steppenwolf, 38 Special, and other
classic rock bands. But I have other moods as well and one of those moods calls out for the sound of John
Denver. In the many small town radio stations across this country, his music will live forever beside the likes of
Patsy Cline, Buddy Holly, and others that mainstream mass market radio has left in the dust. To ride through
the Rockies and be reminded that John Denver still has some friends and supporters here makes for a nice
moment. Such moments are the reason I take these long trips.
The Best Tasting Crow
At a recent Chaparral Riders meeting, several of my Harley friends told about their July 4th trip to Hollister,
California. One of the riders had a few bolts rattle off his bike and had to stop at a Harley-Davidson dealership
for repairs. I like to think about the BMW motorcycle’s reputation for high reliability and trouble-free
riding when I hear such tales. I’d better not laugh too loudly though.
We stop in Kansas City for the night at a hotel right next to a Harley dealer who is still open at 7:30 pm. Iâ
€™m coming out of the hotel office, which turned us down for a room by the way, and notice that my BMW
has lost two nuts from under the engine and is just about to drop two more. The nuts hold on a kick-plate that
protects the engine during rough off-road riding.
The worst part is that the nearest BMW dealer is another 250 miles from here. I’m right next to a Harley
shop but they can’t help me with my “metric� problem and surely would have a laugh at a BMW
rider having any type of mechanical issue. I quickly switch the two remaining nuts to opposing bolts and the
next morning ride to St. Louis BMW for replacements. The new one’s have nylon inserts and won’t
come loose. German engineers occasionally make mistakes but they usually correct them once they are known.
At the next Chaparral Riders meeting, I tell this story and am promptly voted the “Stinky� award for the
month. This means I have to ride my motorcycle with a stuffed animal (skunk) attached to it until someone else
does something equally embarrassing.
The Best Surprise
While looking for the BMW shop in St. Louis, I stop to consult the MapQuest route I printed at the hotel the
night before. As I’m getting the map out of my pocket, a car pulls up beside me and the driver hands a
booklet out the window. He says, “I’ve been following you for miles and wanted you to have this.�
It turns out that the booklet is the official program for the BMW rally we are to attend. The man in the car tells
me that his company got the printing contract and he had worked extensively on the layout. He saw the sign on
the back of my bike and recognized the name of the rally from the cover of the booklet. Now Bruce and I are
the first rally attendees to have a program booklet and we aren’t even there yet. Very cool!
The Best Detour
I-70 East would take us almost all the way to the rally site but my brother-in-law Robert, truck driver and avid
Harley rider, called to say, “Stay off I-70 east of Indianapolis. It’s under heavy construction and youâ
€™ll sit for two hours waiting to get through.â€� I believe him. He sat for two hours the day before on that
same stretch of highway.
We head north out of Indy on I-69 then take state road 18 through the farmlands toward Ohio. Road
construction is also to be a problem in this area. A poorly marked detour and me too cheap to buy a GPS
before the trip puts us in the middle of corn fields near the small town of Fort Recovery. There is a nice gas
stop/convenience store there run by a group of friendly employees who set us back on the road to the rally in
short order.
Sometimes being lost takes you to unique places you might have otherwise bypassed. The farmlands of Ohio
show strong Catholic influence from the late 1800’s. Large brick churches with towering steeples dot the
landscape with some so close that you can see the steeple of the next one from the one you are driving by
now. They mark the small communities that I think are still the heart of this wonderful country.
The Best Rally
Arriving at the rally site is an emotional experience for me. As I’m pulling in the parking lot of the
fairgrounds and drive through a sea of BMW motorcycles it occurs to me that, “I made it here. I actually
made it here!� By the end of the rally, 8041 members of the BMW Motorcycle Owners of America, the
largest attendance ever, would make the same claim.
We’ve come 2400 miles, seen beautiful country, met interesting people, survived the trip without an
accident, all to come to this place at this time and share a few days with like-minded riders. Riders who are
brave enough to choose a bike that holds only 4% of the US motorcycle market. Riders brave enough to risk
riding through states that have no dealership to help them should a breakdown occur. We rely only on a book
of MOA members willing to publicly print their contact info and invite calls from stranded riders. You get the
idea. When you ride BMW, you ride alone much of the time.
A BMW rally is somewhat more like a conference than a rally in that you have training sessions about riding
skills, tech sessions with BMW corporate engineers, seminars on how to setup bikes for shorter riders and the
list goes on. David Hough, famous motorcycle safety author, hosts “Coffee with Dave� each morning
where riders can ask questions of this seasoned motorcycle expert.
There’s some drinking and carousing that goes on too. The German influence at the beer tent is not lost on
this group. Non-alcoholic beer is free and fine for me. Bands play every night and George Thorogood and the
Delaware Destroyers play a concert on site just for rally attendees.
Like the Harley riders, BMW bikers want to customize their machines too. The Remus exhaust booth is doing
a booming business (no pun intended). I come by that booth at midnight more than once and see bikes still
lined up waiting for new exhausts. The tech is dutifully working into the wee hours in the back of his â
€œmotorcycle shop on wheelsâ€� trailer. We will pass by this trailer days later on the way home. He waves
big at us on our BMWs. He’s had a good rally and earned some serious money.
BMW riders aren’t cheapskates. One vendor is selling custom made boots with the BMW logo on the
front. The boots are made specifically to fit your feet which they measure at the rally. The price for this fine
footwear? $1800.00 a pair. The line starts over there. (I wasn’t in it!) I talk with the couple that run the
booth and they are nice people from Minnesota that attend a few rallies in the summer to take orders and then
spend the winter together in their home working to make the shoes. Not a bad way to make a living or a
marriage.
I patronize the food vendors at rallies. These people work hard to bring their booths and supplies to the rally
sites and should be rewarded for it. My favorite this year is a burger/fry/hot dog stand run by a single Mom,
her two girls, and one neighbor girl. That mom can boss those kids but good. She keeps them hopping. Seems
there’s no enforcement of child labor laws in this part of the state so the girls learn to make haste, not
waste, and do so most of the day and early evening. They run a clean operation and I tell the mom so.
I also talk with a man who helps his mother and father run a German food booth. This place is packed
constantly throughout the rally. Another food vendor with long lines is run by a grandma and grandpa who
prepare homemade ice cream right on site using a large ice cream maker powered by an antique John Deere
engine known as a “Poppin’ Johnnie.� The weather is hot and the ice cream tastes good. The line
starts way back there and I am in it!
The rally is best summed up by the little ole’ lady that runs the Hawaiian Ice slushy booth. I ask on the last
day if she is having a good time at the rally. She tells me that she and her husband retired 12 years ago and
purchased this booth to have something to do and to make a little money. In all that time, they have never met
a nicer group of people than the BMW riders. No one cut in line, no one fussed about the product, and
everyone had a smile on their face. She said they definitely would be at the next rally if at all possible. I think
that says it all right there.
The Best 10-minute Friend
I learned about something called “10-minute friends� at this rally. Camping across the way from me was
James from Louisville, Kentucky. I crawl out of my tent one evening and he yells over, “Hungry? Help me
out over here.�
Seems his neighbor had brought an ice chest full of food that is going to waste and he agrees to help with the
barbeque. I agree to help eat and the deal is done. He grills steaks and veggies and it is good. We talk for a
while about BMWs and the rally.
James says, “Most of the people you meet at a rally are 10-minute friends. You will greet each other, talk
for a while, and then you’ll be off to do something and they will too and you will never see each other in
life ever again. Don’t let that cheapen the experience. It is what it is. Enjoy your 10-minute friends and be
satisfied with that.�
This is good advice for anyone who likes to attend motorcycle rallies. I meet several 10-minute friends over the
three and a half days of this year’s rally. I learn things from them, listen to their stories, tell a few stories
myself, and will most likely never ever see them again. That’s OK. That’s all it’s supposed to be.
The Best Family Advice
The first stop after the BMW rally is Ottumwa, Iowa, to visit with my sister, Beverly, who teaches at Indian
Hills Junior College. The family advice is given by her and intended for two of her daughters. They are heading
out on a trip of their own that will include a visit with their grandfather, my dad.
“Don’t tell granddad you saw Rick here. You’ll get an ear full!� To put it mildly, my dad is not
a fan of motorcycling. To hear that I was in Iowa on the bike and in the midst of a 6,000 mile trip would have
led to quite a tirade. It still may someday but at least the girls will be back at home out of earshot.
The Best Time to Visit Sturgis
We rolled into Sturgis after spending a day roaming around Mount Rushmore, Custer, and Rapid City. Bruce
and I got separated at Mount Rushmore and since neither of our cell phones had local service in that area, we
managed to catch up to one another at a hotel in Spearfish.
There is a back road from Spearfish to Sturgis, ALT 14, and I find it to be one of the most beautiful roads of
the entire trip. Farmlands have a charm all their own. It’s best to slow the pace down and enjoy the green
fields and red barns. Several deer are grazing along the edges of the fields, another good reason to slow down
a bit and enjoy the evening.
It’s about 10 days before the big rally. Downtown Sturgis is deserted, save for a few tent-based
businesses that are making last minute preparations for the onslaught. I ride the length of Main Street twice
before heading back to Spearfish. Very cool.
The Funniest Sight
There is a tie this year for funniest sight. The first involves the shower trailer back at the rally. I’m standing
in line to get my shower one morning and a young boy and his father are in line in front of me. All of a sudden,
a man walks out of the shower trailer and heads for the camping area wearing a towel on his head and
absolutely nothing else.
The young boy tugs at his dad’s sleeve and says, “Dad, do you think he knows he’s not wearing
any pants?�
The dad replies, “I don’t know Son but it looks like he’s headed back over to where his people
would be camped. Let’s just let them tell him.�
The second funniest sight is seen along the road home somewhere in Wyoming. We are at a rest area and I
notice a Honda Gold Wing traveling along the freeway pulling a trailer. Nothing strange about that but on the
trailer is another motorcycle. So I ask myself, “Is he riding or is he trailering?� I’m confused!
The Best Gunfight
We pull into the Cody Motor Lodge after a long day of riding from the western edge of South Dakota almost
all the way across Wyoming. The legends of the Old West are alive and well in Cody, Wyoming. As we start
to unpack the bikes, the hotel clerk calls out to us, “Be sure to get the bikes unpacked before 6 pm â
€˜cause that’s when the gunfight starts.â€�
She explains that during the warmer months, a local group puts on a fake gunfight every evening in front of the
Irma Hotel. The hotel was built by Buffalo Bill for his daughter, Irma, and is still in operation. It is also known
as one of the best places in town for dinner.
We head down the street in time to catch the action along with about 300 other tourist. The group includes five
men and two women who put on quite a show. They begin by working the crowd and identifying the oldest
and youngest tourists and any members of the military. All of them get an autographed poster. Next is a gun
safety demonstration for the kids. The group then puts on a play that pits the good guys against the bad guys in
classic western fashion. They really know how to involve the crowd in the show and everyone loves it.
An annual motorcycle event called Cody Thunder Rally is going on at the time I am in town. This simple
weekend gathering includes a poker run, lots of music, and some of the most beautiful riding country I’ve
ever experienced. I’m going back for this one again and again. I truly fell in love with Cody, Wyoming.
The Longest Day
A long trip is an event that first leads to much anticipation, then unfolds into a time of great enjoyment, and at
some point winds down to a soon-to-be-memory-yet-not-quite finished chore to be wrapped up. From Cody
to home is just over 1100 miles. We make it in two days.
The longest day is the last day on the road. It’s Saturday and Bruce and I are riding separately today.
There is something about spending Saturday night in your own home with your woman at your side that will
motivate this biker to make 600 miles in the worst of conditions. I stop for lunch at the Iron Skillet restaurant
near the Las Vegas Speedway. The outside temperature is hovering around 120 degrees Fahrenheit.
My wife tells me over the cell phone that it’s thunder storming at home and that I should find some shade
and hang out for a while. I have an elderly uncle in Vegas that could use a visit. A quick phone call to him and
my afternoon in the shade is set.
By early evening, I’m dodging the last few rain clouds in southern Nevada and blasting through the ensuing
darkness toward Forest Falls, California. I’ve not seen home in two weeks but will sleep there tonight. Itâ
€™s been a great trip; all 5,700 miles of it.
The next morning, as I’m unpacking my gear, I open the Road Atlas one more time. I put a little star by
Burlington, Vermont, the site of next year’s rally. Now that’s going to be a long trip!