Beulah, Wyoming

The 700-mile round trip ride to Hollister I took a few weeks before Sturgis was just a warm-up for the real thing. Driving rain, thunderstorms, gale force winds, and hail the size of marbles could not keep us away.

Thundering in from all points of the compass, tens of thousands of bikers converged on Sturgis, South Dakota. Most came for the party, first-timers for the experience, the hard-core for the ride, another just 'cause they do it ever year. It's tradition.

For our crew, we do it for the uncaged feeling of the open road, and a week of riding and partying with solid brothers. After out all-too-tame experience with custom baggers in '96, Bandit and I built choppers for this year's ride. I got mine dialed in on the run to Hollister but days before our planned departure, Jesse James and Bandit were scrambling to get Bandit's sled painted and reassembled. True to form, the night before we were to leave, Bandit's chopper was finally fired up and ready to roll, amidst unrestrained protests from Jesse. "Sh*t Bandit, you gotta be f*****' crazy to take a full-custom chop on a two thousand-mile run without a shakedown around town!" Bandit just gunned it out of there, eager to hit the road.

Before dawn the next morning, Dangerous Dale and I hooked up with Bandit and blasted off into the California desert, making a run for the Arizona border and looking forward to shit-canning our helmets. The noontime sun friend our brains until the gray skies loomed ahead and we hour first electric storm just west of Flagstaff, where we hooked up with Myron Larrabee riding out of Scottsdale. Not to be deterred, we pushed on up to Durango, then over the might Rockies and down into Glenwood Springs, only hitting rain in the late afternoon. Not carrying rain gear, it was always a mad dash for the next bar or truck stop until the road dried out.

Five days, several minor repairs, and almost 1,800 miles later, we dropped into Spearfish Canyon like four conquering road warriors. For those you who have made this run you will know that the Black Hills region is famous for its great riding with endless highways running through rugged mountains, green forests, picturesque lakes and canyons. But for the past few years the roads leading into Sturgis, especially running north from Cheyenne, have been plagued with road work. But not this year. Except for a short stretch on the cut-off linking Four Corners to Sundance, the new blacktop was fast, smooth and a pleasure to navigate.

We spent Sunday catching up on lost sleep and working on the bikes, but by nightfall it was time for the partying to begin. True to form and surrounded by his latest custom creations, Arlen Ness's annual press party at the Hamster lodge was rocking. Of primary interest was Ness's new double overhead cam motors, as was Dave Perewitz's four cam motor and Donny Smith's Pan-Evo. The family had arrived, all rolling in with exceptional custom rides. It was heartwarming to see the number of choppers in the lineup, many sporting Jesse James' close-fitting fenders, high bars, up-swept pipes and longer front ends.

Blasting into Sturgis the next morning, it didn't take long to realize that this event was growing. The crowds, the bikes, and the traffic were all thicker than ever. Doing our rounds of friends, dealers, and bike builders we found that parking, even for a bike, was becoming a major problem. But to compensate, the women were getting better looking. Unlike Daytona, Sturgis has never been famous for its bikini-clad hardbodies, but this year there were busting out all over the place.

Cruising down Main Street, our new, long sleds snapped more than a few heads, particularly Bandit's Damon Red bagger-chopper. After that, it was over to the Community Center to scope out Pat and Brooke Kennedy's latest 20-inch-over "Bumble Bee" yellow creation. Across the road Ron Simms was holding court in the Camel compound, surrounded by a selection of his wild beasts (machines and women). And just around the corner, Titan was basking in the reflected glory of their Playboy cover and the Playmates signing magazines.

On Wednesday, after a quick round-trip to Rapid City to check out the Harley-Davidson show, we hammered it out to Beulah, 28 miles west of Sturgis and just over the border into Wyoming, to check out the action. Now this is what it's all about. A small gas station and general store in the middle of nowhere was surrounded by bikers doing what bikers do best-street race. Bikers returning from the thrills of Burn-Out Wednesday at the Dime Horseshoe Saloon in Sundance, traditionally stop in Beulah for a dose of high octane speed and excitement. And this year was better than ever. Everyone was getting into the act, baggers racing baggers, chicks racing on Sporsters and FXRs and Hamsters racing outlaws. Even when the law arrive, they merely smiled as one would smile at an errant child and said, "Don't block traffic, and carry on."

The rest of the week was Sturgis as usual-wild blur of riding, partying, bike shows, burnouts, fast food and faster women. The gods must have been smiling on us since even the rain that plagued our ride up from L.A. held off for the week's festivities.
Now I'd love to talk more about the wild rides, drunken debauchery and naked women but this is all the space Bandit has given me. So you'll just have to look at the pictures and come experience it for yourself. See y'all in '98.--Frogman