Camp Hawg Ledger Banner - Kiro & Mo-Mo

Commemorating the Travels of a Party of Maniac Scooter Trash to, at & from
The 55th Annual Black Hills Motor Classic in
August 2nd through 14th,
In the Year of Our Lord, 1995

Editors Comments & Introduction May 2006

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

Sturgis, 1995 - Jeannie's Mountain

The Players

From Maine
Alden Dyer –aka The Master
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

From California
Sonya Galvin – aka Blond Sonya
Juan Galvin – aka Homeboy, Homey, Juan Valdez, the Mexican

And other supporting members too numerous to mention

The Departure
Wednesday, August 2nd, 1995

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.

The Loaded Trailer-Ready to Go

Setting Up Camp

The Sturgis Arrival
Friday, August 4th, 1995

The Time Out Tent - Our Camp 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.

Kirk and Gene decided to take a short cruise through town which they did, and found the trip quite fascinating. Many vendors and establishments were set up and many, many more were in the process. We elected to get to South Dakota mid-week before the event because we knew there would be so many bikes in the area that touring would be difficult. As it turned out, this plan was sound because we had a few days riding time before the place got insane. By the time the event commenced, everywhere you went there were 50,000 motorcycles and everyone was attempting to look at or visit the same locales we were.

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…

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.

Juan & Sonya

The Camp Hawg Group

Day One
Saturday, August 5, 1995

The camp arose not long after sunrise, anxious for our first full day of activities.

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...

Our Bikes  - On The Road 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.
Keystone was established as a mining town soon after the expedition led by George Armstrong Custer in 1874. Gold was discovered by this expedition which spelled the eventual doom of the Plains Indians. We shopped a bit and checked out the town, ending up in a saloon seeking refreshment before riding to Mount Rushmore. We found the Presidents to be an awe inspiring site and took the usual photographs. We obtained several excellent shots of our group with the carving in the background and really enjoyed ourselves immensely. We asked a young father to take a few photos so we could appear together, and soon he had eight cameras all around him and this kept him going for a few minutes.

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.

At Mount Rushmore

And The Children Weeped 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.

Crazy Horse Monument

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.

Critters in Custer National Forest-Bighorn Sheep, Bison & Donkeys

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

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.

In Camp
Juan Valdez had decided that he was preparing breakfast for everyone, so he jumped out of bed energized and ready. Let it be known throughout the kingdom that Juan and Sonya saved us on a few mornings as they had the insight to have a burner and coffee pot available. These two clever individuals had their gear sent to Glencoe via UPS so it was there when they arrived and as they rode out, didn’t have to attempt to pack it. That way they were not impeded in their travels with their scooters loaded down. Their resourceful thinking earned them a Camp Hawg salute and our gratitude. Juan cooked eggs and sausage and we ate in shifts until everyone was happy. Kirk was excited because Mo-Mo told him Juan was preparing a pot of grits, later only to find he had been duped again by that rascal. He realized this to be true when he asked Juan where the grits were and was told, “what the fuck is a grit”? Indications are Kirk was misled once again.

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.

Downtown Sturgis During the Rally 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.

Enjoying Downtown

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.

Kiro Smoking a Cigar after a Tin Lizzie Lunch 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.

Deadwood, South Dakota

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.
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!

Alden Wrenching & Receiving Some Camp TLC

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.
Uniform of the Day 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.

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.

On the Road and at Beulah

At Devils Tower

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.

Racoon Eyes 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.

The Master at Work; Bill; Juan Cooking Steaks

Tuesday, August 8, 1995

Camp Hawg was buzzing with activity by 0630 hours. The Hombre and Sonya came into the picnic table area and coffee was brewed up to start the day. We were also joined by a new friend from the Chicago area, Bill Skyles. Bill is in the U.S. Army and made the trip to Sturgis to check out the lay of the land. We first met him one evening when he came to inform us that he heard the staff talking about shutting the hot water system down the next morning. He was kind enough to inform us of this so we could shower that night while there was at least a possibility of other than ice cold mountain water. It didn’t take us long to figure out he was our kind of guy and he was made welcome in the Camp Hawg sty. Bill only stayed about three days, coming late and leaving a day or two before us.

As we had discussed the laundry situation and how to handle it, it was determined that we would take the van in town and drop off our stuff to be washed. This prevented us from having to waste the better part of a day watching this activity. Bill, Kirk and Gene took the laundry in town, dropped it off and proceeded to Bob’s for breakfast. We were informed the laundry wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow so we put it out of our thoughts for the time being. Running a wash, dry and fold laundry during bike week was a great deal of work and bother but a potential moneymaker from what we viewed.

After we returned to camp, Kirk and Bill decided to cruise back into town on their scooters and check the sites. We told the other sty members we would return early afternoon so we could plan group activities at that time. Everyone decided that today would be a “mental health” day with low pressure all around. Today was also the start of the hill climbs and Gene, Alden and the Princess wanted to view these, which could be done from our camp with field glasses, so they hung around.

Bear Butte Another reason that prevented an early ride and kept us in camp was that the wind began to pick up. Big deal right? Well, after about 0630 hours, we began to experience gale force winds, we’re not talking little baby winds here.... this wind was blowing scooters off the highway; tents were being pulled out of the ground, laundry, blankets, tools, chairs, anything that wasn’t secured was on its way out of camp. Hombre and Sonya dropped their tent to the ground so it would be there next time they wanted to use it. The rest of us policed the area the best we could so nothing would blow away. Later on, the camp trash cans were full of those Coleman aluminum framed tents; the high winds simply destroyed the framing on these.

Kirk returned from town about 1:00 and informed everyone that Bill had decided to stay downtown and enjoy the photo opportunities. Bill always carried his camera and was able to get some of the shots that we guys were wishing we had taken. We will try to get a set of his negatives at some point. Juan and Sonya had done their laundry and had returned by this time also.

As the wind was still a considerable deterrent but we still felt the need to ride, we elected to take a short trip back to Jeannie’s Mountain about 4-5 miles distant. All six of us, as Bill had not returned, jumped on our scooters and headed to Bear Butte State Park. The Princess was especially happy about this as she had wanted to visit this beautiful site once again. We visited the museum and looked at all the Indian artifacts, read the plaques and markers and traveled to the upper parking area for a look see. We didn’t stay outside too long as it wasn’t comfortable with the high winds still present. We decided to head downtown and do some people watching. So, we ended up in downtown in the crowds and excitement. We had our eye on many different things to buy over the last few days, so we did spend some money.

Kirk, who had purchased many T shirts, went on the prowl again after just the right shirts. Let it be known that around this time, Kirk was becoming known as the “Captain”, as someone made the connection with Captain James T. Kirk of the Star Trek/Enterprise fame, not a new issue to him actually. Our documentation does not indicate what days these T shirts were purchased, but the grand total was around nineteen by the time we left South Dakota, plus two that were given to him by others. (Note that upon returning home, the Captain gave about 14 of these shirts away as gifts. Nearly all of these shirts were purchased with people in mind. Juan bought the men tank tops so we could all wear the same shirts as the ‘uniform of the day’; we found this very thoughtful of him, but that’s the kind of guy he is... (Thank-you Juan and Sonya!)

Earlier in the week Kirk and Gene had found a neat Sturgis buffalo skull design tank top which was really nicely done. They decided to dicker with the salesman and indicated to him we would buy six shirts if we could get a discount. He thought this over and told them he wasn’t the owner and couldn’t make such a decision. This was a particularly bad choice of phrases on his part of course, as the Captain and Mo-Mo felt it their civic duty to lecture the lad about personal initiative, being a man in a world of men, etc., until he indicated that he would call his boss and ask about the discount. In the end, the shirts were purchased at a $2.00 per item discount which was sufficient to close the deal and Mo-Mo threw his charge card on the table. Mo-Mo and the Captain were very pleased with themselves and the situation, these shirts were not nearly as common as many of the others being a one off design, and they had spotted them at only one other store. These tank tops were purchased to serve as “uniform of the day” wear. Our first “uniform of the day” was on the run to Mount Rushmore on Saturday, and the photos will reveal all of us dressed accordingly from the waist up. Everybody was pleased it appears, after all as “Disciples of Alden”, we should wear our own “colors” somewhat. The Princess on the other hand, collected post cards which were considerably cheaper then T shirts. All and all, she bought around 1,500, and foolishly tried to write them all out while resting at Camp Hawg. Last we knew, about half the population of Portland got a South Dakota or Wyoming post card; probably many of the recipients don’t even know who Jeannie is, but we feel certain they were appreciative...

Now is as good a time as any to add a note about shopping in Sturgis. There are so many shops and vendors selling anything and everything imaginable, that we decided to look around before buying things. First of all, if you purchase something, whatever it may be, you have to lug it around for a considerable length of time, or make a bee line for your scooter and stick it in the saddlebag, where it would sit unsecured. As far as we are aware, no bikes were robbed of stored purchases, but you would be reluctant to put an expensive item in your saddlebag and walk away for the rest of the day. Generally, everybody looked and looked and as they saw things that were possibilities, noted where the shops were. By the end of the week most of us were ready to go back and make a deal on anything we had our hearts set on. Another thing we found was that once the majority of the bikers were in town, the prices mysteriously went up. Sonya saw an example of this with a pair of road dog riding boots she wanted to purchase. When she checked them out early in the week they were about $25.00 less then when she returned to purchase them. Both she and Juan told the seller they were aware of this and ended up buying them at the old price. There were minor examples of the same merchandise at different shops where the prices varied, T shirts were an example. You would need to compare apples to apples products when you shopped for the best price. Of course, the best way to determine this is by what the item is worth to you, if you do not feel ripped off, you probably weren’t. Later we will mention the jackets that Juan and the Captain purchased. These were identical, but that little fuckin’ Mexican managed to buy his for $25.00 less then Kirk! As stated previously, we had things in mind to do from our earlier visits in town. Sonya had her clutch and brake handles wrapped in leather at one of the booths. These looked very sharp with gray and white leather and she seemed very pleased. Kirk went to a leather shop he had visited earlier and had several patches sewn on his vest. Two were Sturgis related and some were of an Indian design; all looked great.

We watched the RevTech crews testing motorcycles for horsepower. You cannot help but notice when this occurs as it is so loud that it’s nearly painful. Gene asked the Captain, ‘Do you think Alden can hear that?’ being the smart ass that he is.... Alden said he had Hawg-l tested in this manner but was very careful to limit how far they pushed the engine. The test determines the horsepower at the rear wheel and is not good because they over-rev the bikes to the point of engine damage.

Tee Shirt Design Painted on Kiro, 1998
Juan, Sonya, the Captain and Mo-Mo went to check out a shop that was custom making a pair of vests and chaps for our California colleagues. Kirk and Gene were very impressed with the quality of the workmanship of these products. These are by far the finest looking leathers either had seen, expensive but truly outstanding and custom fitted. We knew that Juan and Blond Sonya would not have had anything to do with us if they had these articles already, so we were happy to learn they weren’t finished. We could just picture these two in their finery, they wouldn’t even spit on us if they saw us on the street; what chance would scooter trash from Maine (where is that place anyway? Is that a State?) have with two Californian high breds like these? We returned to Camp Hawg, and as usual, showed our purchases to one another. The nights were always great fun and the company superb. We laughed and laughed at the foolery going on. Kirk laughed so often on the trip out and in camp he had to ask for some relief... His face ached from laughing so much and his muscles were sore from the activity. The Captain and Mo-Mo had to make another firewood run. The pickings were slim but they gathered enough to last the balance of our time in camp. The nightly fire was started along with the stories and other assorted “lies” we told one another. We took our medicine and kicked back, our bellies full, the night warm, ah yes, life is good...

Perhaps now would be a good time to point out that the Captain told Juan and Sonya about the Maine Puplet. They were quite incredulous when this issue was addressed; what in the world is a Puplet? “A Puplet is a cross between a puppy and a pig”, the Captain explained, “They are raised up on the Maine coast in a little town called Waldoboro”. Juan didn’t even want to hear about this, “No Way” he exclaimed, “you’re never going to convince me about this Captain!” The Captain was very hurt and upset that his best Mexican friend would suspect he was lying about such a thing. He stated without equivocation that just because the Puplet was an eastern development and not from California doesn’t mean that it isn’t so... These Californians are convinced that everything worth having comes from their State; they think they are on the “cutting edge” of everything in life worth having so it seems. His ire evoked, the Captain went on to explain what he knew of Puplets; in all fairness, he later conceded that he stretched the truth in one respect, that being that Puplets are pets and not raised for food. Nobody who saw a Puplet would consider eating anything so adorable.... Many have a puppy face and squiggly tails; others have pig noses and long, pedigree looking dog bodies. They are generally a good deal of fun and make fantastic pets. Asked to produce verification of this claim, the Captain stated that he did not have any photos available under the circumstances, but would try to find some at home upon his return. The worst case scenario would be for him to travel up the coast to find a Puplet breeder and obtain some current pictures. We talked about Puplets the rest of the week.

In Town Sturgis
You have to read between the lines somewhat when considering the things that were said and done in camp. We gave each other a great deal of shit about everything and anything, laughing all the time, looking forward to the next adventure. We often discussed that fate had selected us, and we not each other for this trip, we felt it unlikely that we could have chosen as well in our planning. How could you plan to have people like Juan Valdez and Blond Sonya camp next to you when we came about as far geographically as possible between our home states? Fate had its hand on us and our surroundings; we truly believed that we were here together by a larger plan and not some random circumstance. The Princess and Alden hadn’t taken a vacation in years, why now? And why here? Why is it that Camp Hawg suffered none of the normal everyday problems of that sever friendships and cause such discontent? There were arguments and disputes evidenced in Glencoe in our time there. We were a family... all of us have real family, loved ones and good friends at home, people that we couldn’t live without if the choice was given, we talked about this everyday, but our group was so very considerate of one another, this was a unique time like no other in our lives. For a short time we were able to shed the cloak of responsibilities of work, home and other obligations, and be whom we wished to be for a time...
Juan Ghostriding It was early in our week that Juan Valdez made several comments about his Mexican heritage. He mentioned several things, the town where they lived, the Hispanics in the area, things like that. The Captain and Mo-Mo looked at one another thoughtfully and contemplated this somewhat. Juan could have been blue with white polka dots as far as we were concerned, he was already firmly and forever etched into all of our hearts, he was our brother; but boy did we start to screw with him! We gave him some serious shit about being a Mexican; after all, he brought it up… We announced that the camp shouldn’t be left unattended when he was around, anytime somebody couldn’t find anything we suggested checking the Mexican’s tent as we were certain the little prick stole it...

One night when Juan and Sonya were off while she had some tattoo work done, we waited and waited for them to return to Camp Hawg. The night went on and they didn’t show and we discussed the possibility of them having a problem, breakdown, etc., figuring they would be back soon. In the meantime, we sat around the camp doing whatever, shooting the bull. Finally, very late, they returned to our happy greetings. The Captain started giving Juan some shit immediately, ending with the comment that we called the local authorities about a Mexican kidnapping a white woman out of our camp, and that they were searching high and low for this culprit. Mo-Mo jumped in and we told Juan that we were going to call the Texans from the camp below as they were far more adept at handling Mexican issues then we were; they would be happy to lynch our token Mexican for entertainment! Just an example of the kind of thing Juan had to put up with upon occasion, you had to be there to really appreciate the camp humor, which was the purpose of these last paragraphs... But, we do have some advice for you Juan... stay just like you are brother, no truer man ever graced this sorry planet of ours, and we couldn’t love you more!

Eventually we all went off to bed, another fine day done in the Black Hills.

Wednesday, August 9, 1995

We were up with the sun, rested and ready for another day. Ever so slightly our thoughts turned to the long journey home and the end of our time in South Dakota. The days flew by and we tried to think of the time remaining and not the conclusion of our visit. As we drank our coffee we discussed plans for the morning run. Mo-Mo had already started in with his “we can get in 5,000 miles before breakfast if we plan our time accordingly” speech... We looked at one another and thought differently. It was determined that today was the day we did the Needles Highway run, the southern Black Hills tour. Before we finalized our plans we had to say good-bye to our friend Bill. He was returning to Chicago as work & family obligations had to be addressed. We were sorry to see him depart the camp and this added to our feelings that things were starting to wind down for all of us. After he departed we continued our discussions and preparations, saddened by the event.

Upon completion of the immediate issues, we cruised into town and our favorite gas station that featured “high test” gasoline. Our group as usual was five scooters and six people, with Bill having left; we had no interest in anyone else joining us. We fueled up here everyday as it was supposed to be above 95 octane, we will never know exactly perhaps, but all of our scooters were running fine for sure, and Mo-Mo was up and ready. We should have tracked the fuel consumed, by gallons it must have been getting to be a substantial total. When it came time to fuel up we all shared the same pump - Gene, Kirk or whoever just paid the bill and off we went. Money wasn’t that important to us, we concentrated on other things and collectively we had enough that it never became a problem.

We headed off to Rapid City along with literally thousands of other bikers everywhere. Gene passed several restaurants thinking that the further from Sturgis you get the better off you’ll be, but it didn’t seem to make any difference really, there were bikes, thousands of bikes, everywhere you went. We indicated to him that we wanted to stop so we came upon the Happy Chef restaurant, a local chain apparently, and pulled in to check it out. We had arrived in Rapid City, perhaps 30 minutes from Camp Hawg. The Princess had been lecturing us about the fact that she was buying breakfast next time we stopped. After telling her no over and over many times, we relented as she looked like she was going to take some form of action against us, and we gave in to the inevitable. We learned that when Jeannie makes up her mind about something that’s about all there is to it. We were hungry! Has it been indicated before that all Jeannie ate for breakfast was biscuits and gravy? Well, if not, this is true. She ate the same breakfast all across America and probably would have had it for lunch and dinner also if available on a national scale. The Captain always wanted grits if possible, Mo-Mo and the Master didn’t seem to care in particular so long as they were fed something; Juan wanted shit that nobody ever heard of from south of the border, and Sonya must have wanted the same as she claimed to able to cook it.. ..But today, the menu was the usual breakfast stuff and we had oatmeal, steak and eggs, biscuits and gravy, (guess who?), and things of that nature. Every time the waitress came by we ordered more coffee, “more coffee wench” Juan cried out time and time again. They were sorely understaffed and the waitress was a bit behind. We consumed about six pots of coffee collectively, ate our fill with some discreet “borrowing” from the breakfast buffet, and decided it was time to ride.
We went outside; those who smoked lit up and waited for Sonya and the Princess to join us so we could be on our way. We waited and waited thinking it was taking far longer than it should have. Eventually we figured either they were “enjoying the facilities” immensely or Jeannie had noticed that there was a post card rack on the way out the door, (Heaven forbid we thought). When they exited we saw them conversing in a rather angry fashion and we wondered what happened. They explained that we were charged $.99 per each cup of coffee, adding about $15.00 to the bill. None of us had ever heard of such a thing before, it appeared really ridiculous to have that much added to the check and Jeannie was wild. ..."Well Princess," we stated, "at least you got your way and decided we would never again grace this establishment with our presence."

We ran into Keystone and decided to shop for a time. We set a return time to meet at the bikes and went off on our separate errands. Everyone had been here before of course and had specific tasks in mind to check out. Keystone had many tee shirts that were not Sturgis related but more in tune to the Black Hills and Indian logos, so they were different. The Captain purchased a Black Hills gold necklace with the able assistance of Blond Sonya whom he asked for an opinion. Do you think this type of thing is ingrained in American men while growing up? Needing a second opinion from another source? Sonya thought the piece was nice so the Captain bought it and went off to other things. Our time in Keystone was not more than an hour and we soon mounted up for a tour of Custer State Park and the Needles Highway.

The Needles Highway is so named for the obvious rock formations of weathered granite spires that line the roadway of this twisting and turning fourteen mile section of road. This ride is beautiful and quite fascinating but not as good as an operator, better as a passenger when you can look about more. The road is always turning left and right with many hairpin turns, and you cannot leave the path of travel unattended to sight for more than a second at a time. (A biker was killed on this road about 20 minutes ahead of us when he left the road and was run over by a bike coming from the other direction, we read about this in the newspaper later). As stated, you must really pay attention which is difficult when you consider the amazing scenery all around you.

Momo Ghostriding through Custer National Forest

As you travel along, you must pass through several tunnels that have been bored through solid rock, the dimensions of these tunnels are 11’5” x 8’7” and 12’ x 9’ and they vary in length, but they are certainly long enough to rev the engine up in good shape. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what is going to happen as you enter these rock cylinders... Mo-Mo was in the lead, the Captain, Hawg-1, Juan and Sonya following in that order; nobody has to tell you, as a biker you automatically know that you have to make as much noise as possible so you can hear the roar of your scooter in this confined area. What happened wasn’t at all what most expected. Gene and Kirk revved up their motors with a bit of ceremony and continued forward, Kirk almost cleared the tunnel before Alden followed with Hawg-1; the Master, sensing his opportunity, cranked Hawg-1 long and hard, and the result was devastating. Juan was nearly directly behind Alden and Jeannie, he bore the full impact of the roar of Hawg- 1’s mighty engine, modified by the Master to a monster of little refinement; Juan caught his road dog hat with one hand while trying desperately with the other to operate his scooter and protect his ears, which were strained to the point of implosion. Kiro meanwhile didn’t quite clear the tunnel before the roar of Hawg-1; both he and Juan exited that tunnel bleeding from the nose and ears... Juan stopped outside, convinced that the tunnel had collapsed around him and expressing concern for his lovely bride. The Captain explained what had happened and managed to bring him back to his senses after several moments of disorientation. This was Juan’s first encounter with Hawg-1, one he was certain to remember. The other tunnels found our group scurrying for position, it didn’t matter where, just as long as it wasn’t behind Alden’s scooter...

We stopped at the turn-outs along the road and took all the usual pictures. We had a biker take a few shots of our group so we could all be in the photo together. We photographed the “eye of the needle” and took some shots trying to picture the lay of the land and the general atmosphere of the place. The Princess had the camcorder out and she got some footage of people going through the tunnels and various things.

On Needles Highway

One incident we found amusing was of a lady who with her family, was trying to go through the tunnel with a large camper vehicle. She wasn’t happy about having to wait to enter and had jumped out determined that she would interrupt the traffic flow of scooters that was nearly continuous. She realized by and by, that this task was nearly impossible and ended up just yelling at the bikers and acting like a jerk. Everybody just hooted at her and went on their way. Last we saw of her she was still trying to guide the family camper through that narrow hole... Another incident we found astounding was a large motor home hauling a trailer that must have been about 30 feet long. The total vehicle length was probably 60 feet overall. Not a big deal except that they were traveling a road that was twisting and turning and obviously they were where they should never have entered. The poor driver had nowhere to turn around; he was doomed to follow that torturous roadway for miles without relief followed by many pissed off bikers. We praised him for having enough sense to pull over where he could; this allowed us and other bikes to pass him as traffic was back up badly.

We regrouped and decided to find a place for lunch. Planning a return route, we stopped in Hill City at a restaurant called Garbonzo’s. Hill City has a population of about 700 persons. The first settlers arrived here in 1876, lured by the discovery of tin, gold and copper. A group of Englishmen spent $5 million mining and milling tin here in the 1880’s. Later the miners were joined by ranchers and lumbermen who helped settle the area. At Garbonzo’s we found many scooters (as usual), and learned we were in the midst of a Harley Owner’s Group poker run. We had a bite to eat, checked out the people and rested awhile. Sonya asked the waitress very politely for a glass rimmed with salt; after her second request the waitress indicated that they weren’t using their “good” glasses and only plastic cups. Sonya was less than pleased with this development and was clearly agitated by the lack of respect shown by the people of this facility. Generally, this behavior was not the norm we found. Most of the folks we dealt with were accommodating and pleasant. The burgers we had here were quite good compared to most and we were satisfied for the most part.

In the Needles

Kiro Entering the Tunnel of Doom It was at this establishment that we purchased our “Pecker Rock” tee shirts. They were dated 1989 which wasn’t too cool, but they were pretty neat! There really is a “pecker rock” formation, and it’s about 6 miles from where we now sat. We didn’t try to go to the location as it was out of our travel route, and decided to see it another time, although in the end result this didn’t happen. The Captain bought two Pecker Rock T-shirts but gave them both away upon returning home - didn’t even keep one for himself. As a note of interest, one of these shirts was given to a friend of his from Finland. Tom Eckbert is his name and he and his girlfriend Mickie, were in Maine visiting before returning to Finland. All together, they were on holiday about four weeks. Tom wore this shirt often and was very pleased with it; nearly every time Kiro saw him afterwards he had it on everywhere they went and he was quite proud... The second shirt was given to Greg Joy (aka The Prince); his wife Kathy and Kirk work together in Portland. He too, liked the shirt.

We ended up in Deadwood about 1900 hours and decided to look around. We found the town was jumping with tons of scooters everywhere. Like Sturgis, they imported additional law enforcement and the streets were loaded with cops all over checking people out. As long as you were sober chances are nothing would happen and you wouldn’t be bothered, but any unusual behavior and they would seek you out. Like in all the towns during the event, law enforcement was considerably beefed up with Officers' coming from all over to assist the locals. We later read that two scooters were stolen from the area where we parked our bikes on the same evening. There weren’t many options, the town corralled all the scooters in one area, but it appeared reasonably safe. These thieves were caught and turned out to be from Minnesota looking to make a fast buck. If you were unlucky enough to get caught pulling a stunt like that, it’s best if it’s the law and not the bike owners as the best one could hope for was a good beating.

There were scooters everywhere you looked. Deadwood with its legalized gambling was a major center of activity and a good place to be based out of if you could arrange accommodations. The Princess had to try her hand at the slots as we expected, but all and all we stayed in town a little over an hour. We were getting tired and longed for the comfort of Camp Hawg, so we gathered together and headed out. The weather had turned cool and we were wearing our jackets, our sunburns still had an impact on us and we had trouble retaining our body heat. Everybody except for Juan of course, he was getting darker and darker everyday, a point that we just had to press upon him.... Not cold enough for chaps and nothing like fall riding in Maine, but far more comfortable in leather jackets just the same. The sixteen miles back to Sturgis was cool and great fun, a very nice ride we found. Even with the amount of traffic going through Sturgis we managed to get back to camp around 2130.

Home again, Camp Hawg... the drag races commenced this evening and the roar of the track was unmistakable. Probably the only thing that Alden and Jeannie said they wanted to do all week was go to the drag races, so we scheduled tomorrow as our drag race day and determined to plan our travels accordingly. Tonight’s film in camp was entitled, “The Return of the Man with no Asshole”, featuring Gene Arlo Barber and Mo-Mo. We started the fire and pulled up our chairs for another session before bed time. The Captain fired up the two candle lanterns we had, Juan started his propane lamp and we hunkered down for another round of story-telling, discussions of the day’s events, bullshit and candor. We, the Disciples of Alden, good friends all, told our stories and wandered off to bed, another day ended of one of the greatest adventure of our lives.

Needles Highway; Sonya having a Beer; Custer National Forest

Thursday, August 10, 1995

Camp Hawg awakened later than usual today. It was nearly 0800 hours before everyone sat down at our table area and discussed the daily plans. Everyone agreed that tonight we would attend the drags; Alden and Jeannie were especially interested in this event. As the gates opened at 1600, (the drags started at 1800), and we wished to get a good seat, it was determined that we would plan the day accordingly, and return to Camp Hawg early. Juan and Sonya were planning their departure, various issues and details required implementation to that effect. They decided to go to one of the booths that changed oil and checked over scooters, so they would be prepared for the next leg of their journey. The rest of us agreed to accompany them as we didn’t want to spend time without their camaraderie.

All six of us departed for downtown Sturgis. By Wednesday, the population that was attending the rally reached its peak, and the area was abuzz with many things to see and different people from everywhere. The oil changing facility, a tent area with a work station that could accommodate three bikes at once, was on the outskirts of town closest to where we entered, so we stopped while they checked the schedule, waiting times, etc.

On Mainstreet

The best way to get this work done was to wait it out they determined, so we decided to hang out until Juan and Sonya could get their scooters in. This was a very interesting time we found. It is difficult to be bored in Sturgis; no matter where you are there is much to see and the people are everywhere. Mo-Mo and the Captain noticed that next door was a mobile water systems truck that had shower stalls with hot water. You could take a shower for $3.00 and the line wasn’t too long from what we could see. Another thing they noticed was that hoses running from this vehicle supported a bike wash set up in a grassy area, so they wandered over to check this out. You could get your scooter very well cleaned by two scantily clad young ladies for only $5.00, what a deal! We told them to proceed as there were only two bikes ahead of ours. Both Gene and Kirk took photographs of these young women at work. They took several photos when they were cleaning the bikes ahead of ours as well as when they washed Mo-Mo and Kiro. Even this wait wasn’t boring, we talked to people from everywhere in this country and Canada, all having a great time and sharing the experience of just being there. One guy was from Calgary (in Canada) and he had a beautiful scooter that was detailed with gold trim. He indicated that he spent $6,000 over the winter having this work done and was very interested in Gene’s skulls that were affixed to his rod covers. He had tried to locate some gold skulls for the same location and was unsuccessful, but his scooter was gorgeous!

As we were directly across the street from the Broken Spoke Saloon which is a very famous facility, we wandered over there for a look see. This place is so busy during normal hours and at night that you would have trouble getting near it, but as it was about 0830 in the morning we walked right in. Just above the elevation of your head they have mounted a 2 x12” plank around the building perimeter. Along this plank they had a collection of motorcycles spread out in various areas. These motorcycles ranged from Harley flatheads to an Evo, British bikes, including a Matchless, and many others, probably about twenty in all. A fine collection of bikes and certainly a great deal of money graced the walls of this mediocre building which wasn’t much nicer than an average barn. We walked about and looked at these scooters, discussed what we knew of many of them, then walked into an adjoining room where a crowd of people stood in front of a counter loaded with tee shirts, hats, sweatshirts and other paraphernalia with various Broken Spoke Saloon logos. Before we left Gene, Kirk, and Sonya purchased several tee shirts to add to our collections.
Sonya's New Leather Work
Eventually, the scooters were all set to go and we talked about parking on Main Street if we could find a spot. Jeannie got a picture of “Boss Hog” as he pulled up to the corner stop sign. She asked him if that was who he was; he stated in the affirmative and posed for a photo. A group of riders came by wearing Vietnam Vet “colors” and as Alden was standing by the road with his vest on, one of the guys recognized that he wore a patch stating, “Support you’re local Vietnam Vets organization”. This rider was very complimentary to Alden and thanked him for his support. Mo-Mo and the Captain took photographs of their nicely cleaned bikes, said good-bye to the cleaning ladies and went over to join the others. When everyone was situated we headed for downtown.

We were able to park at the far end of Main Street although we had to split up somewhat. Once on foot, we did the usual and started to walk around, look at the people and shop. We were well versed on what was around so we just took it easy and enjoyed the day. Nothing of great interest was noted but we did have our cameras out for a change. This is one time that we were able to get some people shots. We stayed in town until about 1530 hours and decided to head for Camp Hawg for a bit of rest before the drags commenced. As the week had been very active to date we were feeling like we should kick back somewhat and slack off the pace.

We returned to camp and decided to eat at the CampResort facilities. All of us went together and afterwards we cruised over to the drag track. The entrance fee was $12.00 per person which is about normal we supposed, so we paid and went inside to a large crowd. As we entered the fenced area we noticed they were using a group of Hells Angels as security into the pit area where the racers entered. There’s a good chance nobody got in that wasn’t allowed to... We were aware that the Angels were around, we heard they stayed at the Buffalo Chip Campground. We weren’t the type to start any trouble anyway and didn’t worry too much about this; generally you will not have trouble if you don’t look for it. One of the pledges was wearing his colors with Alaska as his State indicated. He sure was a ways from home also. We later saw this same guy riding through town with some other members.

Kiro Gets a Bath

The drags were pretty amazing. We found a bleacher seat that would allow us to sit together and found the place quite full. The different classes of scooters were interesting and the crowd seemed very involved with the show. The Captain and Gene looked and admired much of what we saw, including the women, the rest of the scooter trash and everything else around them. (We are certain Juan didn’t look at women, he is a very polite individual). One problem we saw automatically was that you couldn’t see the end of the track from where we sat unless you stood up at the end of the run. Another thing about the drags, they are LOUD, not as loud as Hawg-l in a tunnel perhaps, but very constantly loud. The Princess and Blond Sonya had the thoughtful insight to purchase earplugs for everyone so we could at least stand it. We were sitting near the beginning of the track which offered an excellent view of the bikes warming up and coming into the start area. The Princess was running the camcorder and shot perhaps twenty minutes worth of film of the different scooters and races.

Generally we liked the drags, but Alden - Alden was in his glory! The Master must have thought he died and went on to Heaven. He sat on the bench with a big smile on his face the entire time; we did not remember seeing him in such a state of euphoria previously. Gene checked around the Master to find if there may be some other reason he appeared so happy, but didn’t find anything and as Jeannie’s hands were on the camcorder, we figured he was just happy to be there. The Captain and Mo-Mo spoke of the state the Master appeared to have been in and one of them said, “Look! Alden’s got a hard on!” The Master sure did enjoy the drags...

Mo-Mo and Kirk being restless, decided to walk around the place in lieu of sitting down the entire time. They sneaked under the grandstand and fooled about with people’s feet, and Mo-Mo may have been caught in the act of trying to look up one of those short, tight, miniskirts.... After awhile, they located our group and asked them if they wanted anything from the concession stand, which some did, so they performed this errand and walked around talking to people. In their travels they came across a couple from New Zealand who were very interesting. They had a neat story to tell so they spoke with them for sometime. These New Zealanders were Harley-Davidson enthusiast and thought to combine the largest motorcycle rally in the world with their desire to have a new Harley. They planned their trip well in advance and purchased a new Dyna-Glide from the factory in Pennsylvania (that land of Yankee heathens). They flew into the United States, got transportation to Pennsylvania and picked up their new bike and commenced to tour. They ended up in Sturgis after who knows how many days and ended up at the drags where we met them. They still had time to spend in our country and when their tour was complete they were to ship the bike home by sea and take a flight themselves. This must have been the vacation of a lifetime we figured. The Captain gave them his card and asked them to drop a line upon returning home.

At the Drags

As everybody else wished to remain at the strip, the Captain told Mo-Mo that he was going back to camp to start the fire and hang out. Gene said wait a minute and he would go along, so the two of them found their bikes and scooted back to Camp Hawg after notifying the others of their intent. Back in camp, they did the usual things, illuminated the place with the various lighting devices, started the fire, etc., and soon got bored. After a short discussion they decided to walk down to the road and check out some titties at ‘the show’. Now, everybody has heard all the crazy stories about wild biker parties and all the hype that goes along with scooter trash, dope smoking, drinking, topless women, nude individuals, etc., etc. Well, the Captain and Mo-Mo must dutifully report that most everything you heard was probably true! This was Great! This was the first time we had wandered down to the road to have a look see and it was a party indeed. ‘The show’ goes on every day and starts just before sunset.

Now is a good time to explain the Glencoe CampResort titty watching arrangements… As you come through the main gate, dirt roads lead to the various camping areas; those who are in tune to titty watching camp along these roads setting up lawn chairs and other devices of comfort, with adequate views of the road and its environs. Just like hunting, the best time to do it is as the sun is setting and the people are returning to camp. Thereafter, it continues all night as people party and party a nd get more into the swing of things. Before you neared the area where Camp Hawg was established, first you must pass through a section of road bordered by a low fence. This area is reserved for bikes only, no vehicles with more than two wheels, no cars, trucks, etc., are allowed in this area at all. We viewed this as the home of the “hard core” bikers. The area was full of small back pack tents carried from all over the country to join at Glencoe CampResort. Men lined this section of fence by the hundreds, and they demanded the women riding by give them satisfaction by yelling, various forms of signage, hand gestures, or anything else they could think of to get the point across.

If they were particularly drunk and a lady didn’t show her tits, often they became verbally abusive which we didn’t agree with at all. If a woman wanted to flash, that was her prerogative, but those who didn’t should not take shit for it we figured. This applied only to passengers of course, so only the Princess was in a position to catch hell which we found most distasteful and would indicate this to the group if required. Many ladies would counter this heckling by shouting back for them to expose themselves which was counterproductive as they would pull their peckers out in an instant in immediate compliance. All in all, probably half the women would flash these scoundrels as they passed, surprisingly more than you would think, those who didn’t just scooted by as fast as possible to clear the area.
The Show Commences! The Captain was extremely aggravated by one of these miscreants when returning to camp after trying to use the phone. Trying is the key word here as you had to wait and wait in line (lines, lines everywhere!) to try and make a phone call, with about a 50% chance of not getting through to begin with. The phone system in Sturgis is handled by a small carrier not in conjunction with MCI or AT&T. As he had an AT&T card, he found you had to call another number to tie into your service, no problem, just call 1-800-Call AT!’ and all your issues are resolved...Wrong! The telephones did not have numbers that corresponded with the letters, no, we were special, and our telephones were set up in Braille! They must have figured that many bikers either need or use Braille in everyday life, or perhaps they heard that a large group of sight impaired motorcyclists were coming into town. In any event, after waiting and waiting, when he went to punch in the numbers he was stymied because he didn’t know what numbers the code related to in the letter form.... Back to the first sentence.., as he returned to camp a big blond dumb looking dude stood on his side of the fence and watched as he passed. Just before he got by, this fellow flipped the bird and smiled! The Captain was so insulted by this he was very tempted to go back after this perceived moron, but as discretion is the better part of valor, he went back to camp and told everybody what had happened. They were surprised that he was bothered by this and after a threat of the “time out” tent he “got his mind right” and things returned to normal.

After you passed the gauntlet of the crazies and continued along, the various groups and clusters of people, men and women, whom were out there for the same reason, titty or whatever watching, lined the road. These folks were more normal and part of their having fun was entertaining you as well as being entertained and believe us when we tell you, anything can happen! A Camp Hawg award goes to one guy that was very inventive. This fellow created a neon sign that said, “Show your Tits!” around two round shaped neon tubes with neon nipples; at night when illuminate it was fantastic. He even had it so it would partially light up if that’s what he wanted to do. Everybody going by thought this was neat. Everywhere you looked was “show your tits” signs, “show whatever you want signs", etc., some signs indicated places like, “Titty Hollow” or ‘Titty Curve”, things of that nature. You cannot go to Sturgis without getting at least a little in the spirit, it is an amazing phenomenon.

Mo-Mo and the Captain walked down to the road closest to where Camp Hawg was located. Tents and camp set-ups surrounded the area on both sides of the road, so we located ourselves at a spot away from the mainstream so we could observe. We met a party from the heathen State of Pennsylvania and laughed and joked with them. The two guys were quite intoxicated and very funny. They each had a bone about two feet long which they inserted to hang out of their spandex shorts. These bones hung down like the real thing and they thought they were quite something. As someone came by on a scooter they would shine the light on the bone and shake it to get their attention. We learned they were brothers, biological brothers that is, and one of them would pour beer on his bone and shake it off as people came by, it really was hilarious!

Gene and Kirk watched as the women came by and jerked up their shirts or whatever, and they laughed and cheered as time went by. The group across the road were very drunk and very much in the spirit of things and we had fun just watching them as we waited. Men came by on scooters totally nude, woman passengers came by naked, standing on the rear pegs of their scooters, many folks came by wearing chaps with nothing under them; you just never knew what to expect next! As we were going home soon, we decided to try this again tomorrow night with Juan. Juan was always funny in these situations and we wanted to get his opinion on the situation. You must remember, Gene and Kirk are executive types and not used to such abhorrent behavior, it was important to us to understand what we were viewing!

They returned to camp and shortly the other four came in. They didn’t stay until the end of the drags either and wanted to get into camp and kick back. The evenings in camp, generally short before retiring as everyone was wore out, were a great deal of fun and we shot the shit, took our medicine and enjoyed ourselves. Gene announced that tonight’s feature would be “The Man with No Asshole Strikes Out”, featuring Gene Barber and Mo-Mo. By now everyone acknowledged that the Captain was very smart insisting that we transport his wooden chair from Maine. This chair is built in two parts that slide into one another, so it isn’t very bulky but is made of red oak and is a bit odd shaped. After all week in camp it was the most sought after comfort we had, and after some discussion, Kirk told Alden and Jeannie that he would find them some to purchase at a Civil War reenactment if they liked them that well. They are used extensively in this hobby as they expose no metal parts whatsoever and are reasonably comfortable. The Captain did indicate they must behave themselves in order for him to do this though.
In the Show
The realization that we were soon to end our “holiday” put us in a bittersweet mood. We didn’t want to see it end and cause the break up of our close knit group, our family and “Disciples of Alden” brotherhood. What really drove the point home was our discussion of preparatory departure arrangements like loading the scooters, helping Juan and Sonya take their gear into the UPS center, Jeannie (finally) completing her post card writing, things of that nature. After a time, we went off to bed thinking that it may be ending, but tomorrow we still have one full day to be together and ride the wind...

More of the Show

Friday, August 11th

Today was to be our last full measure of “holiday”. We were up early and ready to commence the activities, not wishing to waste a single moment of our remaining time, we mounted up and headed into downtown Sturgis before 0700. We had discussed in detail things that had to be done , provisions to be made pursuant to our departure, and the other sad issues that would spell the end of our time in the Black Hills. We cruised into town and went to Bob’s for a good breakfast (we didn’t let Mo-Mo decide where and when to dine you see). It had been determined that today was the day we would undertake the Spearfish Canyon tour, something we had all been looking forward to.

At this time, it is wished that we enter the following in the official record: Both Gene and Alden, the “man with no asshole,” and the “man who forgot to grow an ass,” respectively, were whining and complaining profusely about their behinds being sore. We were amazed that they would admit this; after all, we all thought about it, we had been doing some serious riding all week. You can bet that they caught some shit about this. Mo-Mo particularly was going on about his rump dragging on the road, no shocks, etc., we told him it was his idea to ride a hardtail and to stop bitching. Alden, on the other hand, indicated that his working on scooters left him little time to actually ride. This is a valid point all things considered, none of us can usually ride distance everyday.
The town of Spearfish has a modern population of around 7,000 persons. The town is situated in a valley of the northern Black Hills and derived its name from the days when Sioux and Cheyenne Indians speared fish in the creek that flows through the town. One thing we read of interest here is that Spearfish Creek is unusual in that it freezes from the bottom up and flows north to south. Tourism is a major contributor to the well being of the community and the filming of “Dances with Wolves” certainly was an event in the area. We were aware that some of the filming took place in Spearfish Canyon and some of the folks in the area informed us all the winter scenes were filmed there.

Spearfish Canyon Scenic Highway has its terminus southeast of the town. This ride was truly spectacular and we understood what all the fuss was about. We also noticed that the traffic was lighter than usual, perhaps due to the hour we arrived, but we were able to take our time and enjoy a wonderful cruise through the canyon. As the ladies needed to enjoy the facilities, we stopped at the Spearfish Canyon Lodge about in the middle of the tour. This facility was very nice indeed and we wondered what kind of money would be required to stay here during rally week. We had a cup of coffee and roamed the small gift shop; Jeannie saw the post card rack so you know where she went. This break also gave us an opportunity to use the telephones for those who wished to do so. It was nice, no lines, very quiet without the roar of Harleys going by; a useful break indeed.

We learned that the Thoen Monument commemorates the Erza Kind expedition’s ill-rated discovery of gold in 1834. Although they did ascertain there was “gold in them thar hills”, the Indians killed the entire party before they could relate this information to the rest of the world. Before his death, Erza Kind etched their story on a stone which wasn’t discovered until 1932; later research indicated the story was the real deal and was quite interesting.
Scenic Byway

We stopped along the creek and several of us gathered a few rocks we found there. Not many, just a few. The Princess gathered up a rock that weighed about as much as Alden, he made her put it back as we couldn’t get it to the bike, let alone load it in a saddlebag. She wasn’t too pleased by this but selected another fine looking specimen that weighed only a puny fifteen pounds lets say, and was content to return this to Maine. We walked about and checked things out, and when everybody was in concurrence, we fired up the scooters and headed out.

This was another of those rides that really impressed us Easterners with the beauty and majesty of this land of the high plains. We often wondered how the early New England settlers could survive the winters and harsh conditions of life they faced in the unforgiving, newly discovered land, two or three hundred years ago. Here in South Dakota, we also spoke of this, even now the land is not highly populated and it must be a struggle to make a living and feed your family. The settlement of this part of the west didn’t actually begin until about 1876, well after the Civil War (War Between the States to some of us...), and by that time the eastern seaboard of our country was well developed and very “civilized”, as was much of the western coastal regions. Today this land still retains the hint of the hostility of yesteryear, the rugged uncivilized look that is the beauty of this majestic region of our country. The early settlers must have found this land unyielding and fraught with dangers, thoughts that crossed our minds as we scudded along on our bikes, knowing that the comforts of camp and civilization were never far from our journeys end.

At the Spearfish Canyon Lodge

While at the drag races, Mo-Mo had spotted a skull bandanna that a fellow was wearing. This, he stated, was just the thing he was looking for, and he chased the guy through the crowd and asked him where he managed to find this article. Gene explained he had looked everywhere and they just weren’t available. This rider told him a vendor at one of the other campgrounds was selling these and where to go to locate the shop. After leaving Spearfish Canyon, it was in search of this vendor that was foremost in Mo-Mo’s mind.

To shorten this narrative somewhat, we rode to several places in search of this vendor. We did eventually locate the correct campground, which would not let us enter as we were unregistered. Gene spoke to the gatekeeper whom indicated that he was in the right place, but this vendor never opened up shop until late in the afternoon, and he was not present at this time. He must have been in town enjoying himself, riding, or whatever, and worried about business another time. We left the area with Gene indicating he would return another time today. We never did make it back, and Gene never got his skull bandanna, so sorry Mo-Mo. However, what we did get was dust all over our scooters from Gene’s leadership on a series of dirt roads, which included even sorer asses from riding the ruts and bumps...
Juan-Breaking Camp We returned to Camp Hawg after our search. It was only about 1100 in the morning and we had toured well over 100 miles by this time. Sonya and Juan had asked us about taking their boxed goods into the UPS center for shipment back to California, and we had included this as part of our day. They debated their departure time, whether today, or tomorrow, when we intended to leave. Part of the problem they had was that if they shipped their tent and goods out, they would be unable to stay as all their accommodations would be gone. We thought about this for a moment and asked, “you mean to tell us that you’ll leave today if we help by shipping your stuff out? Well, we ain’t helping ‘cause we don’t want you to leave...” Without much consideration whatsoever, we assured our good friends that we had extra tents, sleeping bags, pillows, anything they wanted, “just stay another night in Camp Hawg with us”. The thought of them leaving was too much to handle and we wished them to stay with us to the bitter end; we would be forced to leave tomorrow regardless of our wishes.

As Juan and Sonya packed their things we chatted and laughed during this bittersweet time. We had grown very close; we were a family, and as the Bard once stated, “Parting is such sweet sorrow....” We realized that taking their stuff into town was one more final step before all of us departed. Sonya had bought a pair of bar risers for her Heritage recently in Sturgis. As we hung out, Alden took the time to install these on her scooter. She seemed pleased with the change in the handlebar height and we all agreed it should be a more comfortable riding position. The Master is a considerate human being and this kind of thing comes naturally for him.

This was the first time that we actually hung out during the day. We looked over and saw Mo- Mo’s feet hanging out the tent, he was taking a nap and we discussed doing something mean and hateful to him but decided not to, at least not right now. The Captain saw Mo-Mo and thought a nap was a grand idea. Of course, Mo-Mo was in their tent and the canvas tent was pretty much full of stored materials, so he lay under a tree and closed his eyes. Somebody (wonder who?) through a flag over him and took a photo. This was the only time since the start of our journey that anyone took a nap of any kind during the day in camp. By Friday we all become exhausted by the pace of our adventures.
As Kirk dozed off into a pleasant slumber, probably enjoying sweet dreams and fond recollections, he sensed that Juan was hovering around him like a mosquito. He cannot ascertain exactly what happened as he never regained consciousness enough to figure it out, but he knew the little prick was up to something....Later Sonya asked the Captain if he was aware that the Homeboy had kissed him. “No, no,” he stated, “he must be a particularly lousy kisser as I would have remembered that if he was any good”. Indications are that a photograph was taken, but the Maniacs haven’t viewed this evidence as of the writing. All totaled, this “time out” lasted less than two hours for everyone. Let it be known throughout the kingdom that the Princess was writing out post cards during her time out; she just couldn’t help it apparently. Shortly after 1300 everybody was up and ready for the next event. We decided that we would take our Californian scooter trash friends stuff to town to be shipped. For this activity we would need the van as they had it all in one box of a considerable size. All of us jumped in and with Mo-Mo at the wheel we struck off.

From previous visits we knew where the box had to go. We thought we were behind the hardware store that was acting as a temporary pick up point, but when the Captain and Homey got inside they realized they were two blocks from the correct pick up point. Gene had driven off in search of a parking space and Juan made it clear he wasn’t carrying that big ass box two blocks. Eventually, Gene was talked into returning, so we reloaded the box and found the place. When this was complete we decided to do another errand.
For several days we had discussed picking up our laundry, dropped off days before, and decided we had better get it now before it was too late. We got to the Laundromat to find that the guy who ran the drop off facility wasn’t around. Upon checking we were informed that he was in attendance only in the mornings, an answer we found unacceptable. Gene, who was talking to the lady, pretended to start crying, and with alligator tears running down his cheeks and Kirk trying to comfort him, told her he must have the laundry today as we were leaving shortly for our home, very far away. The poor woman was dumbfounded, she said anyone who loves laundry that much shall have it, and sent her son for the key. All together, we had three small bags, they charge by the load and not by the pound, and the bottom line was around $25.00 give or take, so Gene paid the lad and off we went. It was said of our compatriot Mo- Mo, that he could “charm a snake out of a tree”.

Our errands complete, we parked the van around 1400 hours and decided to do some last minute shopping and running around. Kirk and Juan had discussed buying those really nice Sturgis jackets they had the eyes on; these were expensive but sharp looking. If we were to do this, it had to be now or at least today. Although they had discussed going together, it just never happened but both were advised of three, perhaps four places that had what they were looking for. We agreed to meet at a supermarket near where the van was parked at 1300 hours. Juan had decided that he was holding a cook out tonight, and we were each to select what we wanted from this facility and Homeboy was to cook it. Everybody split up and went about their business to do whatever they chose, Jeannie and Alden, Kirk and Gene, Juan and Sonya. We all were aware that this was the last time we were to shop in Sturgis. The Maniacs, because we were leaving with the morning tide, the Californians because their stuff was already shipped, anything they purchased had to be carried on their scooters.

The Captain was aware of a tee shirt that stated, “dances with hogs” on the front, and was hoping to find some to buy for the 3rd Arkansas boys. He found out that these were made when the movie was being filmed and were not available much to his chagrin. He and Gene ended up at the Rally Headquarters building where they located the Sturgis jackets. Mo-Mo said, “OK Captain, it’s now or never”, so Kirk found one that fit and forked over the cash. Things worked out fine as the local ATM machine was nearby, (after the appropriate wait in line, of course), people were reluctant to take a check from an out of stater, and cash was the way to go. Later the Captain expressed his pleasure with the purchase of this jacket. When he wears it around the Camp Hawg members, it brings back the memories of a special time to all, a symbol of a shared experience and a feeling of brotherhood; we are the Disciples of Alden. Kirk did not find out until later this evening that Juan had also purchased an identical jacket, Homeboy kept it a secret until after dinner and then pulled it out of his bag of goodies.

The time went by quickly and we all gathered at the rendezvous point. As all the Maniacs had keys to the van getting in was no problem, and Jeannie, Alden and Kirk where reading the newspaper and waiting for the others. After a bit, everyone showed up and we entered the store and went shopping. Being a team, we each got an assignment to fulfill and went about our business. Pick out what you want and meet at the check out line was the order. As we all got in line, Juan decided he was going to pay the tab for everything. The little shit did pay as it turned out, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. We thought this unjust as he was going to cook for us, it just didn’t seem right...
Sleeping Beauties

Princess & Blond Sonya-the Last Night Before we continue, there is a note of interest to add about food, paying the tab, gas, etc. All of us in Camp Hawg are of a very generous nature. This sort of thing was never openly discussed, it didn’t have to be. We could go to breakfast, lunch, dinner, whatever, and anyone may pay for the entire entourage, money wasn’t that important; very unusual in a money oriented society don’t you think? We were all very generous indeed, and not just in a monetary sense. We all had to monitor our expenses and such, but we are not aware of anyone having a concern, although there may have been some. It can be stated without equivocation that Gene would give you the shirt off his back if the need were proven, Kirk is certainly in this category also; Juan and Sonya are a happy couple, and to say the same of Juan, which is unquestionable true, includes his spouse without question, ditto for Jeannie and Alden. We were and are, a group of people having a good time, concerned that everyone else was having a good time. As long as one of us had money, nobody would go without. Of course, if we all ran out of money together, that would be something entirely different...

We carried our grocery bags to the vehicle and returned to Camp Hawg. Juan found a grill top from a bar-b-que set up somewhere; we have no idea where, he said he “found” it, and set up the fire pit to cook over an open wood fire. We had steaks, tortillas, beans, all kinds of good stuff. This was probably the best meal we had on our journey. We cannot say enough good things about Juan’s cooking and the meal he provided, all at his expense and effort. We helped with anything he wished of course, but he was the main guy. The company, well, as far as the company and companionship go, there was none better anywhere...

About this time we showed one another what had been purchased, something we did almost daily. It was part of our camp conversation and we discussed things we had noticed that we liked, what other people purchased or wore that we thought was neat, that sort of thing. It was at this time that our friends, Juan and Sonya, (Homey and the Blond Woman), presented us with matching tee shirts. We were all taken by surprise and were extremely pleased at their generosity. The shirts said it all, “If you can’t Rock and Roll, then don’t fucking come, (DFC)” What proud members of the sty we were! “Uniform of the Day” shirts for everybody! We sincerely thank you Juan and Sonya, your thoughtfulness will not be forgotten. You are truly the finest kind of people.

Juan waited until this moment to pull out his new Sturgis jacket. He started by telling the Captain he got one just like his, and Kirk replied, “Oh really, then show it to me”. Juan dug out his new garment and presented it to everyone. He said his beautiful bride bought this jacket for him and what a lovely woman she was. What a hot shit! The jackets are black with leather sleeves and wool bodies. On the back they have the Sturgis 55th Annual Rally logo, very nicely done, but are not dated. The front has a Sturgis patch also, together the patches are outstanding. Kirk was very pleased to know that Juan, his best Mexican friend, had a jacket like his. He found it very flattering that Juan liked it so well. As stated previously, every time one of them wears this jacket, it is impossible to not think about Camp Hawg and our brotherhood.

With dinner complete and everyone content, it was time for us to begin preparations for departure. Gene relocated the trailer so we could load the scooters and this task was completed after removal of the various parts as required. We learned on the trip out that the mirrors should be removed as they would work cut the tarp and protrude through the opening they created. So the mirrors, pegs, and other items were taken off and we put them together and packed them in one of the saddlebags for safekeeping. With the bikes loaded and strapped down we packed all the non-essential and loose gear onto the trailer. This got it out of the way and it was used as dunnage to keep the bikes from hitting each other when traveling. The balance of the gear in camp was required to spend the night and would be loaded in the morning.

Juan and Sonya were set up to sleep in the Civil War tent. They had retained anything they thought essential for the welfare of the camp, which included many items like the coffee pot and cooking system. They didn’t want us without coffee in the morning. They also kept their air mattress that Sonya said they were going to junk as it had a hole in it. All the items that they choose not to transport were given to the Princess to take home. Being very nice folks they just gave her everything. Jeannie assured them she would UPS to California all their things upon her return home as she felt that was proper.
Juan Cooking-The Last Supper

Mo-Mo and the Captain had been advising Juan of the titty show and craziness down by the road the night before. They were doing their absolute best to get him to go tonight as it was the last opportunity. Hombre thought about this and appeared concerned about what his beautiful bride may think, he looked over to her to judge her reaction, and to verify if she may have a problem with this. We suspected Juan was not merely concerned with his wife’s disapproval, he could live with this; we knew that Sonya would tear his ass up in a minute if she wanted to. We were convinced that with her job and attributes, Juan really didn’t want to piss her off. In the long run she didn’t seem to care, so the three of us planned to go.

The Captain got his camera out as he wanted to take advantage of any photo opportunities. We asked the Master if he wanted to come along, but he indicated he was too much in love to be fooling with that type of behavior. Again, Gene and Kirk explained that we were executive types and were conducting a study in the event we required the information in future, you know, future reference. We did not intend to stay long, just wanted to check things out, but Alden wanted to stay in camp with the Princess.
Another Night at The Show So, about dusk, Mo-Mo, the Captain and Homeboy strolled to the edge of the road. We stayed by ourselves in a neutral area so we could observe and realized immediately that this was the place to be. Across the road and down a bit from us were the camps of the same group we had noticed last night, but tonight, tonight they were really in the spirit of things! We laughed and laughed, listening to their conversations, comments and other things we were witness to. These people had a rule that nobody could stand on their side of the road if you were dressed. Some had various things on; you couldn’t be fully dressed let’s say. The uniform varied, but there were three guys standing at the roadside holding lamps that wore only chaps - chaps with nothing underneath that is. You can imagine this without further ado certainly! One guy who was very drunk was a riot; he was buck ass naked except for a straw sombrero. We thought Juan was going to try and take his hat but we talked him out of it. He would throw his hat into the road and perform a Mexican hat dance when scooters came by. Mo-Mo had several comments about this guy: 1) He had the biggest balls he had ever witnessed in his entire life. We all admitted that this fact was true and 2)the rest of him was nothing to brag about, but his sack was truly unbelievable in its magnitude...) He had his hair cut short and the back of his head he had a tattoo stating that, “no one gets out of here alive”. As it got darker, finally melding into the blackness of night, they really got started.

We moved down to position ourselves directly across for the other group. There were other camps where we relocated and we conversed with the people and many other folks came down and joined us. One plump lady from Illinois took an immediate shine to Juan and was talking to him on various subjects. Their conversation, Gene and Kirk noticed, was very studious and they were impressed. Juan and the woman where discussing who should show their tits and when, various attributes of those examples that had passed by recently, important matters of that nature. Eventually, Homeboy asked her why she had a tee shirt on; after all, it was warm outside. Juan asked her to pull her blouse off and pose for a photograph with his buddies; this she did without question, she appeared much taken with him. The Captain informed Mo-Mo that he would be very interested in this photo; it probably would be suitable for enlargement to display in Gene’s office! We teased Homey about her for a time, telling him that we would inform his wife he got arrested and things like that so he could spend some time with her. Being a gentleman, Juan refused our offer and walked away from this woman and on to other things.

As the evening progressed the guys with just the chaps on were shining the lanterns at everybody going past their station. They illuminated their peckers for the ladies going by, and they in turn pulled up their tops. Many didn’t have a top on to begin with and several stopped to photograph the group by the road. By now, the women were involved; some had vests on with nothing else, some with thong underwear with chaps over them. All sorts of people were stopping to look and chat, it was like show and tell in fourth grade. We were laughing and hollering, it really was funny and everybody was having such a good time. Guys were riding their scooters without a stitch of clothes on, save footwear for shifting; many naked ladies came by displaying their wares.

The Captain was broken hearted. He didn’t get one photograph, not even one, before the battery in his camera failed. Can you imagine this? All those titties going by and no way to prove it to his friends at home! He just never thought about keeping a spare battery in his camera case. All these terrific opportunities and no way to keep a photographic record, (some researcher he turned out to be). Fortunately, his memory is excellent, (after all you’re reading this account, right?) and we all retained much of what went on. We made Juan the official photographer of this event and indicated to him he would be punished if he didn’t do right.

So, we drank a beer or two and watched the show as the scooters went by. We noticed a guy standing to our left who appeared quite drunk, as he was swaying and having a problem standing erect. This guy was very quit and we looked him over, figured he was harmless, and never gave him another thought. About this time, a fine looking lady with nearly nothing on, being driven by her husband, boyfriend, old man, whatever, came by again, probably on her third or fourth trip around the circuit. This time they decided to stop as she had her camera out and wanted to photograph Big Balls and his cohorts. She even took a shot of the back of Big Ball’s head to capture his tat. Well, the drunken guy next to us suddenly sprang to life! When the scooter stopped, perhaps ten feet from where he stood, and he saw this fine looking babe, it was just too much for him to handle. He ran into the road and started kissing her profusely on her beautiful bare ass! The bike was surrounded by many people of whom he was one. From what we could tell, it looked like something must have occurred as the rider fired up his scooter and took off like a bat out of hell. We looked at one another, continued laughing, and turned our interest back to the road and the next thing that would happen.
Not Just Two Wheels

A Happy Couple We learned that the drunk was part of the group across the street, perhaps he was too well dressed to be allowed on that side of the road, he had pants on so we weren’t sure. In any event, he was doing some serious bragging about kissing the lady’s behind; he thought this was very cool indeed. It wasn’t five minutes later that the scooter operator came back and man was he pissed off! He was of medium build, not especially scary looking really, but fire flashed from his eyes. We knew this man was on a mission. He walked over to Big Balls, right in the middle of all his friends, and said, “I wanna’ know who bit my ole’ lady on the ass!” We were surprised that he had the gumption to do such a thing, maybe his balls were bigger than Big Balls we thought. Big Balls quickly stated that it couldn’t have been him, he had been standing right next to him and there was no way his head could reach that far. Then he added, “I would have bit her ass if I would have thought of it!” The guy went wild! We thought for sure all hell was going to break loose. He was yelling and hollered, “Fuck this shit you bunch of assholes!”, and stormed off to his campsite. During this exchange, we noticed that the drunk heard what was going on and hauled ass to parts unknown, needless to say, he stopped bragging. At least Big Balls didn’t give him up to the irate biker; he probably didn’t know who did it anyway.

Gene, Kirk and Juan looked at one another and talked things over. We just knew the pissed off biker was coming back with some sort of “equalizer”, he was out for blood. We thought he may return with a handgun or something, and figured now would be a good time to return to Camp Hawg. We agreed that what we witnessed had a valuable lesson in it, just like in Aesop’s Fables, or Fractured Fairy Tales from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show, for those of you with simpler minds. This lesson was very simple, look but don’t touch! Scooter trash, alcohol (or whatever), and their woman create a dangerous combination. It is not unusual or unlikely, for the “fun” to get out of hand. So the three of us walked back to our home, Camp Hawg. We said hello to the rest of the family and pulled up our chairs to enjoy what was left of the evening. We got hunkered down and kicked back, determined to enjoy what time was left.

Sonya had already retired, she was sleeping comfortably in the Civil War tent, and we just had to tease Juan.... “Ha, ha Juan, none for you, you little Prick!” He of course, took the wind out of our sails by indicating that he at least had a woman, Mo-Mo and the Captain only had each other, a point well taken they thought. There were valid reasons for returning to Maine after all...

Everybody was exhausted after a week of hard riding and on the go adventures. We didn’t see everything we had hoped on this journey. The Captain was very interested in going to the Little Big Horn battle site (in Montana) and Wounded Knee (in South Dakota), but this would have to be another time, another visit was required. The site of Custer’s death was nearly three hundred miles from Sturgis, definitely a two day excursion unless you wanted to do a twelve hour ride in one day. This we found unlikely, or at least unwise, predicated from the tours we had taken. We learned that with so much going on locally it just didn’t make sense to travel that far away, a point Juan had informed the Captain of earlier in the week.

We talked about the good time had by all and travel plans for our respective trips home. We told our stories and spoke of our friendship for one another, planning another future Camp Hawg event in Sturgis, perhaps in 2000; it was a bittersweet ending to the greatest of adventures, but not one of us would have exchanged it for anything.
Our Friends, Sonya & Juan
Picture a perfect week doing anything, anywhere in the known universe; think about how you would do it, the thing you would like most of all, and with whom you would choose to accomplish this task; then you will realize, we of Camp Hawg had achieved all these considerations, our perfect week came to be a reality. We traveled to Sturgis, South Dakota, for the 55th Annual Black Hills Motor Classic - the 'Double Nickel Rally'; the greatest celebration of the Harley-Davidson motorcycle in the world. We of Camp Hawg, good friends all, said our good nights & good-by's and strolled off to our beds....

Kiro 1995

Jeannie, Alden, Sonya, Juan, Gene & Kirk

Camp Hawg Remembrance

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