Yup – it’s that time of year again – time to pack ‘em up and head ‘em out.  We’re loaded and ready to move on down the road effective Wednesday morning.  Not necessarily bright and early as you know retired people don’t always move that fast.  There are necessities that need to take place first – drinking a pot or two of coffee, a bit of breakfast, and attendance in the “reading room” – that’s where all the magazines get read, you know.  I keep telling Ole that’s his library – he just scoffs at me.  Oh, well, some people are all about routine, you know.

Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you just exactly where we’re going – duh!  It’s the annual trip to Sturgis and the Blackhills Motorcycle Rally.  Ole has missed only one year of attending since 1986.  He USED TO BE really hard core and would ride the bike down and back.  In his later years (snicker) he became more sane and decided to trailer the Harley.  I didn’t start riding with Ole until our Lovely Daughter graduated from high school (1994) and haven’t missed a year since. 

We meet up with long-time friends every year as we all reserve the same spots so we have our own little Sturgis Village.  It’s like “Old Home” week, and always a lot of fun.

Now I really need to tell you about how I got involved in all of this.  Ole had asked me for numerous years to go to Sturgis with him and I always refused.  After all, all I had to judge the whole shebang by was the pictures of all the weirdoes that he brought home.   I didn’t think there was any reason for me to go that far to see all these strange folks that liked to exploit themselves. all the troublemakers and gangs, etc.  Just didn’t want any part of it.  Finally, just to appease him, I agreed to go, but put a number of stipulations on the trip.

First of all, I would not ride on the back of the bike all the way to Sturgis – that’s only 650 miles, but farther than I wanted to go and get wind/sun burned.  Second – under no circumstances would I sleep in a tent.  The weather down there is just to “iffy” and I definitely wanted a roof over my head should a storm blow up, which it does frequently.  Thought I had him there – as hotel rooms are usually rented a year in advance.  Third – there was no way I was going to wear all that BLACK leather that you saw all the bikers wearing.  I wanted something different - like maybe RED!  No problem, he said.  There’s all kinds of leather for sale down there and we’ll buy it when we get there (smirk).

He got me on all three counts.  First of all he made arrangements to go with a friend who had a pickup.  So we loaded both bikes in the back of his truck.  Okay – No. 1 down.  Thought I had him on No. 2 as he wouldn’t be able to get a hotel room at this late date.  WRONG!  Friend had a hotel room and offered to share it with us.  Got me there.  Darn.

So we arrive in Lead, SD after a 10-hour trip, check into the hotel room and go downtown to the leather vendors in search of something other than black leathers.  Now keep in mind that this was back in 1994 – 18 years ago.  Things were just a bit different back then than they are now.  Besides the fact that red leather only came in a size 4 or smaller, the only people who wore red leather were the HOOKERS!  And it was quite evident at that.  Needless to say I quickly changed my mind and ended up with black leathers with brown suede trim.

Since then I’ve found out there are a lot of reasons for BLACK leather – No. 1 is that it doesn’t show the bug splats quite as much as colored leather.  And it’s usually made of a heavier grade of leather which can withstand a lot more abuse should you lay the bike down and succumb to a bit of road rash if not worse.

So the “saga” (that’s Norwegian for story) shall continue.  If you’re interested, stay tuned, otherwise just delete the entry when it shows up on your email.

Love to you all,

Lena