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Posted 8/15/17 (Tue)


We did it again. I mean we went to the Bike Rally in South Dakota.
You may remember, years ago, when Shirley and I took the Honda Super 90 to the rally. We didn’t make it all the way. Shirley’s sweat pants got tangled up in the chain going down the hill to the Lost Bridge. Probably was just as well.
And then one time we went through Sturgis on the way to a rodeo when we had the grandkids along. I think that was the time we were sitting at a light in Sturgis and a motorcycle pulled up alongside us. The motorcycle mama on the back was topless. Our grandson, I think it was Evan, was sitting in his car seat by that window. I felt like that old song, “Don’t look Ethel, but it was too late…”
Evan hollered, “Look Grandpa, they make the girls ride on the back!”
Oh, the innocence of youth.
This year we weren’t going to the rally, but redeeming a weekend gift package we had received from our kids for a Christmas gift. It had to be used by the end of August, so this was a necessary vacation.
I don’t know who was playing at the Full Throttle north of Sturgis, but from there to Sturgis it was a solid line of bikes headed up Highway 79. I mean there were hundreds, if not thousands, of them. I told Shirley that the town would be abandoned by the time we got there. I was wrong. It was still packed with people and bikes.
And I will tell you this. Some of those bikers are getting a little long in the tooth for riding bike. I can see why those trikes are getting more popular. And some of the bikers and their mamas are getting a touch heavy for biking too. I mean, I know I’m heavy, but you don’t see me with a medium-sized t-shirt stretched over an XXL beer belly. That bandana around your head does not reduce your girth.
And to some of you mamas out there. Before you crawl on the back of that hog wearing that tank top, take a stroll by the mirror. I know that sounds sexist, but I’m just saying.
But I guess they were all having fun. And that is what it is about. I mean where else can you buy the official t-shirt at a thousand different shops within a couple blocks. Evidently motorcycle people really like to buy t-shirts. And beer. I can go with the beer, but I really don’t need a thousand places to buy a t-shirt.
There are people from every state and I’m inclined to think probably every nation.
We got in the elevator in our motel yesterday morning. We had to hold the door for an instant for a couple more guys coming. They had a strange accent. Twas Australian. The next floor we stopped and picked up a lady. Strange accent. French. As we exited the elevator, some people speaking Japanese were getting on.
All in all, it was fun. I told Shirley we are going next year. I’m back in the market for a trike.