As he rode along that night thinking how lucky he had been in life, having a loving riding partner that understood his need to roam the highways and to his trusty old pan that hadn’t let him down once in the many years they had shared the road together.

Well about 40 miles north of the border, in the high desert, lurked a small group of notorious little critters known as road gremlins. You know, the ones who always leave little obstacles like, one shoe, boards, and pieces of old tires on the road, and also dig those dreaded potholes for bikers to run over and crash, thus giving the road gremlins a chance to rejoice over their acts of evil.

Well, as the lone wolf of a biker rounded a curve that moonlit night, the gremlins ambushed him, causing him to crash to the asphalt and skid before coming to a stop next to one of his saddlebags that had broken free. As he lay there, unable to move, the road gremlins made their way towards him. Well, this biker, not being one to give up, started throwing things at the gremlins as they approached him. Finally, with nothing else to throw but a bell, he started ringing it in hopes to scare off the dirty little gremlins.

About a half a mile away, camped in the desert, were two bikers sitting around the campfire talking about their day’s ride, and the freedom of the wind blowing in their faces as they rode across this vast country. In the stillness of the night air they heard what sounded to them like church bells ringing, and upon investigating, found the old biker lying along the roadside with the gremlins about to get him. Needless to say, being part of the biker brotherhood, they preceded to ward off the gremlins until the last ran off into the night.

Being grateful to the two bikers, the old road dog offered to pay them for their help, but as all true bikers do, they refused to accept any type of payment from him. Not being one to let a good deed go unnoticed, the old biker cut two pieces of leather from his saddlebags tassels and tied a bell to each one. He then placed them on each of the biker’s motorcycles, as near to the ground as possible. The tired, old road warrior then told the two travelers that with those bells placed on their bikes, they would be protected from the road gremlins and that if ever in trouble, just ring the bell and a fellow biker will come to their aid.

So, whenever you see a biker with a bell, you know that he has been blessed with the most important thing in life—friendship from a fellow biker.

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The guys were still stricken with the anomaly that had challenged them all week long, but this morning they did rise a little earlier. Bear was not able to meet the anomaly head on, though. In desperation, he threw up his hands and left his tent behind. Easier to leave it than the challenge of packing it that morning!

Finally on the road, we turned north on 79 towards the Broken Spoke and Newcastle, and then east on 212 to Belle Fourche and finally to the 112  towards Hulett.

Hulett is a great town that has it’s own party going all week long. Small shops and stores, and some reliably better food than normally found in Sturgis. But unfortunately we didn’t make it here this week, and we will only be passing through on our way to check out the Devils Monument real quick like before retracing our steps back to the 212 into Montana.

In prior years, the flag at the trading post at Devils Monument has always been the Harley-Davidson banner during the rally. It was sad to see that the flag flying this time was Old Glory, flown at half mast in honor of the police officers that were slain the previous week. God, keep them and comfort their families.

Our previous plan out of Sturgis was to go west on 14 towards Yellowstone. This new plan recommended by the Georgia Crew took us west on the 212 up through Montana, and I have to say it was a beautiful trip. It seemed that we were constantly riding through one canyon after another, over one more hill, across a beautiful valley marked by fields of fresh mowed grasses, and back into another canyon. The terrain was breathtaking, and it seemed to make the long day in the saddle far more acceptable.

Bear’s mother lives just outside of Billings, and after a little prompting, Bear decided to stop off and visit with her for a little bit. Panman and I rode a little further to Laurel where we found a little bar that served just what we were looking for… Twisted Lemonades. A couple of these and we were off looking for a room for the night.

Funny how it works out as shades of the previous year. Billings was having a fair that weekend, and consequently every room for miles was booked. We lucked out and found camping space at a little campground behind the truck stop there in Laurel. Bear would catch up with us in just a little bit. That will work, or….

Why did I know that Bear’s anomaly was going to come back and bite me in the ass! Bear left his tent behind, and the mosquitoes along this river campground were true maneaters! “Damn it! Guess he will have to tent with me!”

Did I mention that Bear got his nickname because of his penchant to rattle his tent in his sleep? Perhaps “rattle” is not a subtle enough term! I believe in taking one for the team and all that, but geesh!

That evening was spent playing dominoes and drinking Twisted Lemonades. Morning came early. Hell, I was already awake. Might as well go shower! Bear got up much earlier than normal, too. Maybe because it wasn’t his tent, and I was set on packing it onto my bike. He He!

We made our way down the 212 to Red Lodge, where we stopped for breakfast. The breakfast special Portuguese sausage and eggs sounded great, with plenty of coffee. But when I tried to substitute pancakes instead of hash browns, the waitress curtly told me “no”. And with that continued taking other orders. No explanation, nothing. The guys nearly fell out of their chairs laughing.

Red Lodge is a real cool old west style town, with the flat faced buildings and porch like overhangs that cover a wide walk. I would love to go there again… just don’t try to alter your breakfast order! No telling what dinner must be like!

Red Lodge also happens to be the jumping off point for the Bear Tooth Pass. This pass is amazing, with its switchbacks and hairpins taking you up into the Rocky Mountains and Yellowstone Park. We passed by lakes left behind by the melting snow, some of which still clung to the crests of the mountain. The road wound its way through the Rockies, leaving us in awe on every passing corner.

The Bear Tooth Pass finally gave way to the Northwest entrance of Yellowstone… and it’s $20 fee per bike! It is interesting how many ways our government finds to tax us. Have you ever looked at your phone bill? Ahem, I digress.

We stayed on the 212 which took us back into Montana (yes we were still in Yellowstone), and through Cooke City and Silver Gate. Another cool old west style town, it made me wonder how they have winter access since the Bear Tooth Highway is closed during the winter?

We passed back into Wyoming again and through some really beautiful country, until we came to a bridge. This had to be one of those special highlights. In the middle of that two lane bridge, in stopped traffic, we too had to pull to the guard rail and shut off our engines. A herd of buffalo began crossing the bridge, just a few yards from where we sat in awe. The bridge rumbled as these powerful beasts trotted across. Cows, calves, and giant bulls snorted and glared as they passed. And then something amazing happened.

As the herd made they way over the bridge, some idiot in a truck decided to “push” them along. No, he didn’t make physical contact, but it was clear he was tired of waiting. Anyway, as the herd made their way across the bridge, two huge bulls that were bringing up the rear stopped and turned and stared down the truck. They occasionally would look back to see if the last cows had made it over the bridge, and when clear they turned and ambled off the bridge themselves. A page right out of military doctrine. And performed flawlessly by buffaloes! Amazing to watch!

We made our way out of the west gate of Yellowstone into Idaho, and traveled south down the 20 towards the venerable I-15. It has always amazed me how beautiful northern Idaho is, but how southern Idaho is so much like an industrial zone. Not all of it, just enough to notice.

We rode hard south through Idaho and into Utah. I had hopes that we could push as far south as possible before nightfall. Well, we made it to northern Salt Lake City. Not too bad. But the real kicker was the winds from a freak thunder storm that hit us head on. Wow, one moment 75 mph, the next 45 mph the winds were so strong. Definitely time to find shelter.

We grabbed a hotel room and hunkered down for the night. There wouldn’t be any adult beverages this night, so the anomaly shouldn’t affect us from leaving early to get across the desert before it got too hot, right? Wrong! Must be a carry over effect!

Our final leg home, and we have a good way to go. But not as far as our first leg to Rifle, so I wasn’t worried. The guys had other ideas, however. They twisted the throttles hard and drove on for home.

The rest of the ride wasn’t without it’s challenges, either. Lake Mead and the Valley of Fire was hot! Real hot! And of course we passed through Las Vegas in the later afternoon around 2:00 on a Sunday, so traffic was backed up. We finally made it to Primm, and started looking for something cold and air conditioned. More lines! We pushed on.

One unique advantage that California has is the legal ability to split lanes. And we did, moving through the stopped and idling traffic and into Baker, were the temp gauge was 112! Why, oh why were we doing this in the middle of the heat zone? We pulled in and grabbed a sandwich and some cold drinks, but the guys were in a hurry to get home and didn’t want to wait for it to cool a little. So, onto the highway and back to splitting lanes we went.

Not far out of Baker, I go cut off by a truck that decided to change lanes and got stopped midway by stopped traffic. Damn it. I never saw the guys again. They never looked back, and I finished the trip the way I probably should have started… alone! Some things are just meant to be, I guess.

Sturgis 2011 was a good trip, but it had its challenges. I met some great people, and spent some time with some new friends. I heard some great music from the likes of Charlie Brechtel and Iron Cowgirl Missy, and I revisited some favorite rides. No, I’m really not complaining! Can’t wait for next year!!

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Rolling down the parade on Lazelle Street seems a prerequisite. You have to do it at least once during your stay in Sturgis. And watching someone that has never been to Sturgis can be quite entertaining. This year was Panman’s turn, and he was every bit as entertaining to watch as he walked his bike down the length of the parade.

Have you ever seen a Jim Carey movie where his head was going in so many places that you are just sure he is going to pull a scene from the Exorcist and do a full rotation? Well, that would be Panman. He just couldn’t take in enough of the sights of all the other bikes, the vendors, and the spectators that lined Lazelle Street.

We made our way past the Full Throttle Saloon and the Buffalo Chip, as we headed towards Shade Valley. I could see Panman making mental notes (none too subtly) of their locations as we passed.

We pulled into the Shade Valley Campground, registered, and then went searching for a suitable campsite. I introduced Panman to the gang at the Doghouse as we located a good spot under a large oak tree. This would be home for the next week.

Camp set up, it was time to move to the Shady Grill for grub, and the Eye Candy Saloon for a little adult beverage and entertainment. It is pretty cool that we have all these amenities right here on our campground, plus a free bus, aptly named “Da Bus” to take us to the Full Throttle, Buffalo Chip, and downtown as needed. Not messing with a DUI in Sturgis!

It was great seeing old friends again, too. I got a quick hug from Sarah, my “nurse” from the previous two years. She always manages to put a smile on my face, and a drink in my hands!

We met the neighbors, as well. Four riders from Atlanta, Rick, Mark, Jeff and Andrew (sorry guys, if you wanted call signs you should have given them to me). We spent a few days riding and drinking with the Georgia Crew. But especially drinking their morning coffee. At least Panman and I, because it seems Talley (now dubbed “Bear” by the Georgia Crew) seemed to have an affliction that prevented him from getting out of the rack before 11!

I can’t say that the weather was always cooperative, but it was tolerable. On the second day there, we managed to catch some showers while coming out of Rushmore. The next day Panman and I joined the Georgia Crew for a ride through Custer and up to Deadwood for a few adult beverages at the Deadwood VFW. We spent most of that day riding in some pretty good downpours.

And then on Thursday, the day before we were to leave Sturgis, we rode to the World’s Smallest Biker Bar, and then into the Badlands. If you haven’t ever experienced the Badlands, this is one you should not miss. Once we completed the run, we rolled over to Wall Drug. We had no sooner entered into Wall Drug and started checking out the place and the walls of old time pictures, when a weather alert began playing throughout the stores. The alert warned of a tornado in Custer, and thunderstorms and hail in Rapid City and heading south… right at us!

As people began quickly making their way to their bikes and rolling out, I went in search of my wayward companions. No luck. They should have heard the same reports and headed for the bikes, so that’s where I went. No luck again. In fact, 40 minutes went by before they finally came wandering out, oblivious to what was happening and not even aware that nearly everybody had already left. Geesh!

Fortune was smiling on us, however. We managed to make it back to camp without so much as a sprinkle. But boy did it come down that evening! Hails, winds, and a solid downpour for 30 minutes. So we did the only sensible thing. We hid out at the Eye Candy Saloon and had a few more drinks!

We didn’t do as much riding in the Black Hills this year as I would normally do. Bear and Panman found some alternative entertainment that occupied more of their time. It started with a “stop in” at the Full Throttle while on our way back to camp on the second day.

The Full Throttle has their own special cocktail, as best as I can figure. It is a sweet concoction that tastes like an iced tea made with grain alcohol and sporting a 9.3% alcohol level and bottled in an aluminum bottle. This innocuous libation is called Jacked, and rightly so.

Fortunately I do not do grain alcohol well, and passed. The guys were not so fortunate, and were last seen racing though the Full Throttle with a wild, if slightly slurred, look on their faces while muttering the word “boobies!”. They chased the painted bodies of beautiful women around the Full Throttle until they could barely walk any longer, and then took the zip line to continue their chase. And you thought you had heard it all, right? It made for quite a scene.

And of course, as you can imagine, they were both afflicted with the same anomaly the next morning that didn’t allow them to get out of their tents until late in the afternoon. Hmm!

There were a few not completely unexpected surprises this year in Sturgis. For one, the crowds were down by about 20% or more. The usual lines at certain crossroads in the Black Hills were completely absent. Even the parade down Lazelle Street was much shorter in duration.

Also, the number of vendors were down quite a bit. I was told a story about how Sturgis had sold the rights to their trademarked name to one particular vendor, and that all other vendors had to purchase their Sturgis named products from them. I have not verified the validity of this claim, but this would undoubtedly turn off a lot of vendors. Wouldn’t surprise me, though. Government types do some self defeating things all the time in an effort to raise additional revenues. Just look at my own state of California as proof!

But hey, this is still Sturgis, and the entertainment is excellent. I managed to catch Iron Cowgirl Missy, Charlie Brechtel, and several other great sounding bands. Lynyrd Skynyrd couldn’t make it, but I hear Gregg Allman did a great job entertaining the masses, even in the rain!

It seems that this trip we spent a lot of time in close proximity to bartenders this trip, however. And consequently we missed a lot of what the Black Hills has to offer. You can be sure that next year will be a different story.

The week in Sturgis passed way too quickly, as usual. We said our goodbyes to our new and old friends, and rolled out on Friday morning. But the adventure was not done. Nope, not by a long shot.

Be sure to catch Sturgis 2011 pt III – Riding the Bear Tooth

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, it was hot. And it was July 3, Panman’s Birthday! Now, I wish I could say we were on some charity run, or something really worthwhile. Nope, just Panman and a small flock of friends seeking shelter from the heat.

Now, in California we have a couple of traditions when it gets hot. You either heat the pool, or you brave the crowds at the beach. I love the beach, but hate crowds. So we opted for Plan C. Head higher, baby! So it was off to Big Bear Mountain we went.

But of course, anything great has its own sacrifices. And of course, no good deed goes unpunished. First, in order to get to Big Bear, you have to cross the dreaded temps in Mentone. Was I whining about 100 degree temps? Man, Mentone is a furnace in the summer. But hell, great times are built on sacrifices. We rode faster!

Once clear of the So Cal traffic, and making our ascent up the mountain, the sky began to turn darker. Not storm like, but definitely a little monsoonal up ahead. This could be interesting, as we were taking Panman’s wife, Karen,  and lovely daughter Leann along.

Actually, this wouldn’t be a problem no matter what the weather. These two gals are effortless riders. In fact, how many women do you know that read a book while riding on the candy seat?

This was also a great ride for Talleyman to shake out his new ride. He just purchased an ’09 Ultra, sunglow red. A real beauty. And just in time for Sturgis! Also riding with us is a daily rider, Mike on his BMW. Man, that little bike has everything!

As we made our way higher into the mountain, the temps started dropping quickly. What a relief! We even occasionally had a sprinkle or two. Not enough to make the ground wet, just keep the air nice and cool.

We made our way winding through the mountain passes, and crossed through town until we reached Chad’s Place. Chad’s Place is a little saloon nestled at the end of Big Bear Village. A cool little place with a patio out back and a band playing inside. There’s cold brews, great sandwiches, and plenty of room for your friends. And bike parking is out back away from traffic and prying eyes.

We settled in for a few cold adult beverages (and a couple of iced teas for the gals), and just savored the ride up, the cool breeze, and the great friends.

Beverages drained and a couple of cigars later (hey, it’s Panman’s birthday!). We saddled up and began to make our way around the lake. Temps hung in the upper 70′s, perfect for riding. We spent a couple of more hours touring around Big Bear and Baldwin Lakes. We rolled in to Thelma’s for a sandwich before starting our trek back down the mountain.

It was about 3 in the afternoon when we started down the mountain. I don’t know what we were thinking. Hell, I dont know if we had a conscious though among us all. But there is no way in hell we should have started down the mountain before 6:00.

Oh, everything was jut fine on the way down, aside from me finding a nail in my new back tire, and Panman finding out that he was missing two bolts from his tranny cover. But that aside, it was smooth riding all the way down. Right until we rounded the last hairpin curve and entered into the furnace zone, scenic Mentone! What an overheated rock pit!

The temperatures abruptly shot back up to above 110. Wow, what a shock to the system. One minute we were riding along enjoying the cool breeze, and the next we found ourselves in Purgatory.

Funny how the speeds will pick up when you are uncomfortable. We shot through Purgatory and made our way to the freeway. There would be cold beer and birthday cake when we reached Panman’s crib.

All in all, it was a nice ride, and what better way to celebrate your brother’s birthday! Happy birthday, Bro!!

2011 is the ninth running of the “Ride the Mountain” annual Big Bear Mountain run, put on by Big Bear Choppers. Through the years, this ride has attracted big name entertainment such as Motley Crue and Attika, and was visited last year by the cast of  “Sons of Anarchy”.

It was a drizzly morning in the “flatlands”, as those who live on the mountain refer to us below as “flatlanders”. I wondered how many of Southern California’s “nouveau biker class” would venture out in the morning dew. For the “Ride the Mountain Rally” to be truly successful, I know that Big Bear Choppers was going to hope to attract many of these weekend warriors.

Panman and I met early, and began our trek up the mountain. I had hoped to make a stop at Quaids Harley-Davidson in Loma Linda on the way. Betsy Huelskamp and Kevin Bean’re were going to lead a group up the mountain from there. You will never be short of entertainment when these two are around, and that promised to be a good time all by itself. But it seems that Panman and I spent a little too much time enjoying coffee and talking about old times to get our butts in the saddle in time. We passed by Quaid’s at 3 minutes ’til when I waved Panman off, and we never broke stride as we rolled our throttles on.

By the time we reached Mentone in the foothills, the sky was clear and the sun felt warm. Our big Ultra’s roared as we sped through the canyons, listening to the sounds of our engines bounce off the canyon walls.

The air turned crisp, but still warm as we made our way through the pines. Big Bear is really an anomaly. An oasis of mountain, lake, and pines planted like a postage stamp right smack dab in the middle of one of the harshest, and largest deserts in America.

Riding up the mountain was such a joy, I didn’t notice the lack of bikes on the road. In fact, come to think of it, there were hardly any. Once we leveled out into the town of Big Bear, we began to see a few, but nothing like we witnessed in prior years.

Reports have been rolling in all over the country from motorcycle rallies and vendors bout the decline in participation that has been taking a toll on many of these rallies. The economy has made an impact on the number of riders in attendance, and especially the amount of money they spend.

Big Bear is also struggling. The economy of Big Bear is always challenged anyway due to the difficulty in moving product up and down the mountain. Big Bear is primarily a sleepy tourist town for middle class Southern Californians. That is what is so remarkable about Big Bear Choppers, that they have continued to survive in what is in actuality an economic hell.

The vendors and entertainment is held at Snow Summit ski “resort?”. Hmm, not quite a resort. But hey, a great place for a motorcycle rally! Panman and I had no problem finding a parking spot, and made our way to the gate. $10 entry fee, not too bad, but you could see the vendors from the gate. Wow, maybe all 10-15 of them? Vance Hines was there, as was Big Bear Choppers. Freedom Performance Exhaust (terrible pipes, have to talk about that later) was also there. And then there was a small group of patch and novelty helmet vendors, a couple of t-shirt booths, and a specialty parts vendor.

As we entered inside the party, the gathering of bikes that were entered into the judging was immediately noticeable. These were some gorgeous bikes that had been ridden here. I always appreciate that they didn’t just roll off a trailer.

My brother Tray was standing in line getting an adult beverage as we made our way further into the venue. Perfect, as we passed our order to him for a couple more. You gotta love a brother that only shows up right when you need him most!

We sat down and talked to Tray and his buddy “Too Tall Ed”. Tray had just bought a new set of Vance Hines exhaust for his new 103″ Ultra. They were installing them as we enjoyed our beers.

Panman and I shortly strolled off into the vendors pit, checking out the wares and stopping off at Vance Hines to witness the new pipes on Tray’s ride. We tried to convince the installer to use duct tape to strap the pipes into place, but he wasn’t having any of it. I have to admit, those are some beautiful pipes!

Funny, when it came time for Tray to test ride the bike, Panman and I continued our bantering with the vendors. When we returned, I asked if Tray had come back from his test ride yet. I guess Tray was enjoying the ride so much, he never came back. Go figure!

After negotiating the price of a new novelty helmet and a couple of patches, Panman and I took a couple of fresh ones, sparked up a couple of cigars, and headed for the band stage.

The band wasn’t a known act as in past years, but these guys could rock. We found a place to sit, as we enjoyed our cigars and brews.

It probably doesn’t take a degree from Cal State to know that it’s not real smart to sit on an old bale of straw, with old straw scattered all around on the ground under it, and smoke a cigar. The vapors from the decaying straw itself can become combustible. And yet, there we sat with smug looks on our faces. Oh, we knew we were screwing up. But hey, he was doing it! Besides, the two gals in Cheeky Chaps had our full attention! There was no moving now!

Entertainment completed, it was time to make our way back down the mountain. It dawned on me, I know Betsy and Bean’re pulled in with their entourage just shortly after we did. Funny, I don’t remember seeing them inside. And it’s not that big to miss them. Perhaps they were taking the gorgeous ride around the lake. No worries, I know I will run into them again. Those that truly ride seem to cross paths in some of the darnedest places!

Big Bear Choppers knows how to put on a party. It is too bad that so many people didn’t get to enjoy it, for what ever reason. I know that times are tough, and that truly worries me for the other upcoming rallies. But when you have an opportunity to ride and meet new people, don’t let it pass you by! Just scale back a little. The biker community has weathered tough times before, and we will weather this one too. But we need to do it as a community.

My thanks go out to Kevin Alsop and the Big Bear Chopper family. I look forward to partyin’ with you guys again next year, and hope you’ll have us!

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