Sturgis Or Die, Day Four....Damn It's Hot!

Day 4

No taps on the door, no jarring wake up calls this morning. The wrecking crew is spent. Over four hundred hard miles the day before, up late blogging, and there's a rumor going around that certain folks were playing dominos and downing Crown Royal until all hours......no photos though, so no proof. Well almost no proof, let's just say it was the "old guys" rousting the lads this a.m., draw your own conclusions.

A quick shower and it's down to the lobby for a yummy free breakfast; OK, "yummy" might be a stretch (does anyone ever really know how long the sausage has been decomposing in that fat encrusted pan? And the eggs, well let's not even talk about the eggs)..........but did I mention it was "free"?? Blood sugar levels stabilized, we wander outside to load up the bikes.

The open road, Wyoming style

By day four our routine has become, well, routine. Everyone has their own method and style for packing and unpacking their stuff, I'm a minimalist....take out just what I need for the day, leave everything else alone. Vince, on the other hand, does a nightly inventory and "rearrange" of the contents of his trunk. Five guys, five different ways of doing the same thing. But we're becoming more efficient every day, less wasted motion, ready to hit the road that much faster.............it's a small thing, but it's one of the things that makes "riding the life" a truly unique experience. It’s in the doing..............if that makes sense.

Loaded up, ready to go....... oh, damn it's hot! A dash across the parking lot for a quick splash and go (NASCAR-speak for fueling up for you folks not up on redneck lingo) and..........and my head is spinning, no doubt about it, gotta get more than four hours sleep tonight..........being dizzy and riding 300 miles in an oven isn't a winning combination. But ride we must.......straight to Flaming Gorge (yeah, that's the actual name.......I swear) Harley Davidson on the next block for a long sleeve shirt. Only had two, need one to get me to the promised land. Properly equipped for safety, the vest stays in the T-Bag today, we head out east on the 80.

Gas station hydration, Nate's feelin' the heat

Today is going to be great, we're finally going to get off the Interstate and on to some proper two lane roads with real curves. But first things first, we've got about 150 miles of Highway 80 to put behind us. Mark leads us out and we're on our way. Still morning and the mercury is continuing its ascent......fifteen minutes out, cottonmouth. Lot's of construction around Rock Springs.......left lane closed, right lane closed, and back again. What are we "constructing" you might well ask? Pretty much nothing, from what we could see.

After crossing four states our little group has developed a theory on "highway construction", it may not be original, but it's ours. It's all a revenue scam. "They" (insert corrupt government agency of your choice) create a "cone zone" (invest in whatever company makes those damn orange barrels), doesn't matter if any work is being done, then double the fines for speeding. Give the troopers some radar guns and bingo! You've got a money making machine, like I said, it's just a theory.

Relax, it's just a loose footpeg

A strong cross wind buffets the Harley’s, but only randomly, no big deal, we cope without even thinking about. Our group stays tight as we pass an endless procession of trucks. It's kind of a game, you approach the truck, the bike starts to wiggle and shake from the "jet wash" coming off the back of the rig. But then as you pull along side the draft effect takes over and you can feel your machine speed up as you roll past. It's a neat feeling. Once past the cab you might get punched by the cross wind that the truck had been shielding you from...........or there might be.........nothing. You never know, that's what makes it fun.

We are seeing more and more bikes heading east, mostly Harley's, so we assume they're on their way to Sturgis. We also see quite a few bikes on trailers, towed by everything from Prevost motor coaches (aka rockstar buses) to ratted out rusty pick-ups. A word here on the practice of "trailering", rather than get into the "are they real bikers or not" argument......I just think it's kinda sad. They're really missing out on one of the best aspects of motorcycling.............the riding that's the basis for all the adventures, tales and lies that follow. How many really cool stories begin with,"......there I was in my F-150...." See what I mean? So we're not gonna pick on the trailer crowd, sorry.

We're thirsty and so are the bikes, time to exit 80 for the last time in Rawlins, Wyoming. Pulling into the first gas station we see, we jump off our machines and head for the store. We hang out, rehydrate and plot the rest of the days route. It's gonna be good.

Biker friendly and clean, with a pool!

It's mostly two lane from Rawlins to Casper..........the kind of two lanes you see in the movies, stretching to the infinity of the horizon, rising and falling with the contours of the ancient Wyoming badlands. Miles and miles with no fast food joints, strip malls, or Wal-Marts. Just the occasional family farm, oil pump (who knew, oil in Wyoming?) or antelope. OK, as Nate was only too happy to point out (the kids got some good eyes!) the place was practically crawling with antelopes.......and me without a dear whistle (inside joke....Vince!).

Anyway, the riding is absolutely choice (and soon to get even better), sure there are slow pokes to get around, who cares........just another excuse to flog the might V-twins. After about 30 miles the group separates into two with Mark and "JP" setting a more leisurely pace, while Nate, Vince and I wick it up a bit. We regroup in Casper. More gas, and we're on our way to Lusk and a meal and a bed.

Leaving Casper we take Highway 25 south.....more stunning landscapes, and yes, more antelope. Oh, and Republican Presidential hopeful John McCain. Yep, about twenty miles out of town, we pass the Straight Talk Express heading north. Cool. Around Douglas we hop on State Route 20 for the forty mile jaunt to Lusk. If we thought the ride was amazing so far...........oh, man. More remote, more beautiful, more "real American heartland" than I've ever ridden before. A tight group of five of Milwaukee's finest cruising at 75, sweeping through the curves as one........smiles in every helmet.

Pulling into Lusk (pop 1,400.......small town, frozen in time) we check into the Covered Wagon Motel. Clean, neat and very biker friendly. If you're heading this way you could do way worse. They give you towels just to clean your bike.......sweet. Shower off the road grime and its off to the Silver Dollar Bar for an awesome Rib eye, fries and salad. Old school bar, old school customers......great dinner.

Hank and Vince doing a little "bug removal", JP looks on

Back to the room (bloggin for me), pig wrestling for the boys.......I should probably explain that last bit. But it's late and tomorrow we roll into Sturgis and the real fun begins.........stay tuned (assuming someone other than my mom is reading this) after over 1,200 miles the best is right around the bend.........