3500 for 49 miles

           By Stix Douglas                                    

It was this story that was what got me to start writing.  Sometimes an event happens in your life that is so intense or significant that it has to be told. If not by someone else, then by you yourself. In this case it has started a monsoon of stories that I have had to write since.  I don't trust anyone else to be able tell it.

We all should learn from our mistakes.  I think I do most of the time, I believe that it makes us better, more successful in life. But in this case, I don’t believe it could be written off as just a mistake.  I’m not leaving this story to just anyone but to those that know me.

It's been more than a decade since then, but I remember it like it was yesterday.   It was just before daylight on a cool and damp Halloween day, the end of October.  I had decided to ride to work like so many other mornings before. There was a dampness in the air that morning.  

The subdivisions gravel road up to the highway had deep ruts that heavy rains had washed out.  It made everyone wanting to escape the washboard and it's ruts by having to drive onto a mud packed shoulder that led up to the state highway.  The mornings dew had greased the bare ground and I drove over it.

Within a few memorable seconds was all it took. The bikes rear wheel spun out from under me. Ending in a 180* degree spill the result left the bike on its side with both wheels completely off the ground. The motorcycle laying headfirst into the ditch.

 It was exhausting, by the time I got the bike upright. Everything seemed okay.  I hadn’t been going very fast. There was mud smeared and a few rock scratches on the chrome saddle bag rails, but I would have to have the damage looked at later.  I went on and headed on to work. Not giving it a second thought. It would need an estimate to have what was damaged fixed. 

Later that same day, when getting ready to leave from work, the rear drive belt snapped. I hadn't even left the parking lot.  It meant that I would have to call the dealership and have them come pick the bike up and find another way home.

Shortly after I bought the O1 in May 2002

It would be a while before I would know anything about the estimate or the damages. The dealership was closed for the next two days. before I would find out anything.

When I did finally call to check I was in for one hell of a surprise. Having had several of those kinds of mishaps in both dealing with insurance and accidents in general, I thought it would just be minimal. The dealerships’ service manager told me to brace myself; the damages came to over $11,400.00. I was stunned in disbelief. 

How is that possible? I still owed more than that on the motorcycle so it would not be totaled but why so much?

Somehow way back in one of my countless travels I had bent the bike’s frame.  I had what I would call " stump jumped " a curb or either came off of or hit one perhaps while pulling into gas station or other street edging. A small U-shaped section of the frame under the transmission between the two frame’s tubes had been damaged. Instead of the usual inch of distance between the transmission and it, there was now only approximately a 1/2 inch. Not really that large an amount of damage, but still damage.

 What the Dealership estimate included in how they were going to fix it was they wanted to replace the entire frame, pulling off the engine and good parts and replacing those damaged onto the new Frame. 

  No wonder the amount was so high.  I was outraged I didn't want that done. But I done some research and got an education. What I found out was something rather interesting. Others who may be in this same catch 22 that I was, would need to know.

If your insurance writes out the check to pay the Dealership estimate alone, they the dealership are by law to fix it exactly like they estimated it. However, if the insurance company has it written out to you first and cosigned by them then you can dictate how you want it fixed instead.

One of the mechanics I had spoken with explained and suggested he could fix the bent frame by pulling the transmission out, heating and beating the cross member of the frame back into place. Then spot paint it if necessary. It would be a minimum amount of labor for the maximum results and could save me thousands. Compared to replacing the entire frame and having all my parts changed over like it was on the estimate.

You can only imagine there was a lot on my mind. When you can't think clearly in my case I reached out and I began listening to those co-workers at my work that did NOT ride. This might have been my biggest blunder.

What they had said, and their suggestion was, “Why mess with your damaged bike? You said it yourself that you’ve gotten a lot of miles on it already. Why not trade it in now and get yourself one of those new 100th Anniversary models? You might hate yourself later if you don’t at least find out.”

Stepping out of my safe zone I decided to check out the possibilities.  It would be a few days later the dealership was having a sell-a-thon. It had your party atmosphere, displays of the new Anniversary bikes, the newest colors and accessories.  Live band playing, food and carnival like atmosphere. Balloons and etc, you get the picture.

I was looking for what had to be a fantasy. “A fool and his money are soon parted.” When I finally found a salesman, I pulled out my best line asking him; “This is a onetime offer, how much more with my bike and this check for the anniversary?” There’s always that courteous response back of “I’ll check.”

The minutes turn to hours as I waited. What had started to out as festive in the early morning had now turned itself into an afternoon party. He finally returned with the answer that I would instantly misunderstand and then be confused by. “Your bike, that insurance check, and $9,000.00 dollars.” 

That sounded like a WIN WIN. Hell, I think I still owed more than that left on the bike that I thought I would be getting out from underneath it, with the new Anniversary.

 “Let’s get the paperwork started and get a credit check on you to get that out of the way.”  After all it’s not every day you buy a new Harley Davidson.  The salesmen said like a carpet bagger or lounge lizard, real slick like. 

“What about my accessories?” I asked. I already had added a lot onto the bike previously. I was assured not only that I could transfer them onto the new bike but that they would even do it for me.  Hearing this it reminded me of what my dad once said. When you hear something that’s too good to be true…..it usually is. I should have caught it then but by this time I was tiring. 

I originally had ridden over in my truck since my O1 Harley was there. Still awaiting word and or the check from the Insurance company.  They would need it before they would start ordering parts for it.  I left to return home to get my helmet and riding gear and had to get a ride back to bring "Ann" the Anniversary home.

By the time I returned it was a couple hours later much of the festival was over with and so was the band and much of the crowd. 

Next came all the signing of the paperwork.” If there’s anything you don’t understand we’ll explain it.” I had seen on one of the chalk boards that there was 0 interest on a new Anniversary as part of the deal to sweeten a purchase.

So, they proceeded to show me what would be my payment would be.  But now it didn't make sense. Reality was taking hold.

What happened to the zero percent financing? I asked Oh that's if you pay off the entire bike within six months. Why is the balance so high?  Cause you still owe on the other bike. 

 “What don’t you want the bike then?” they asked. Startled by their comments I kept signing in the confusion. Having already told my ride to go on home more than half an hour earlier didn’t help my judgment.

I went through putting on my riding gear while waiting for the bike to be brought around. Realizing by this time it was now after closing time for the dealership and although everyone was cheering me on, I knew I was keeping them there longer than they wanted. Without allowing the bike to fully warm up I took off into the dark and the cold.

As I began riding it for its very first time (its maiden voyage) I had taken the shortest route which was a very curvy two-lane asphalt back road home. It hadn't dawned on me yet, that this would also be the time that the bike would be speaking to me. 

As I leaned into a curve along the way the bike slid on either wet pavement and or some loose sand on the blacktop. I regained the balance coming off the throttle. It had slid scaring me into paying even closer attention as to what I was doing.

It gave me the response and what I heard was: “I’ve heard about you…scratch Me and I’ll   $&#@% you up. I dare you to scratch me!”  As if to prove it.

That un-easiness was still with me after I got home. When I finally got undressed for bed my mind couldn’t seem to shut off with the thoughts of the day's events. There would be changes that would be taking place because of it.

It dawned on me that the length of the payments much higher and longer now than what I previously had would carry on long years after I would retire. That just wasn't right. That would not be happening.

As I tried to shut down my mind slowly drifted into a deep coma like sleep, I finally gave into my exhaustion. As I slept, I dreamt of rides I had had in the past. My O1 Harley had never failed me, not once.   Even on holiday's regardless of the weather it was ready and able to escort me to any of the four corners of the US without complaint or any worry of trouble and never broke down. Not like other bikes I had prior to it.

In the mist of the dream, it turned into a nightmare. Suddenly without warning, I began to hear the sounds of whimpering.  The sound became louder like that of crying.  It was occurring to me this was what my O1 bike as it was yearning to say. WHAT ABOUT ME?   What did I ever do to deserve this?” It got so loud and defining like when Thunder cracks and the Lighting strike hits a few feet from you. It had awoken the inner me. I couldn't sleep after that.

The bike I was trading off was more than just a machine.  It had not only proven itself every time I had rode it more than I could count. But also had tamed pavement and gotten me through some severe storms where even some cars and trucks had pulled off the highway. It had traveled beyond the simple and quaint little poker run mentality’s and had bathed itself in the road grime of those storms right along with me. 

What was I doing?  Was I giving up on the only thing I ever had that hadn’t disappointed me? All for the fancy glitter and chrome shine of a “newer” and perhaps less satisfying bike? And at what cost? 

As the darkness turned into sunrise. My blood shot eyes slowly got adjusted to the sun sparkling off the chrome and the metallic silver anniversary paint.  I opened the service door. The glare off it would have hurt anyone’s eyes. Oh, it looked good.  There was no denying that.  I said it under my breath, "No matter what, you're going back Bitch"

Pulling into the dealerships service area I hadn’t realized then that I had just partaken in the most expensive 35-mile ride of my life.  Fact was I hadn’t even enjoyed a single mile of it. There was no real way to explain myself but to accept what I had done and get on with correcting it. 

As I took off my license plate, the guy at the dealership said: "You got issues" I just nodded and said I'd be back.  I knew the crew in charge wouldn't be happy and would not be in for another day or two.

It's hard to say what anyone else might have done in my situation. Your expectations become higher when you’re reaching for the brass ring. Something’s got to happen….and it usually does.

I wasn't happy and I knew I wouldn't be with the longer length and increase in payments alone. Worrying that I would be devaluing the Anniversary with as much as I rode.  I would have to be more careful where I parked it and had to protect its paint that would require even more care.

 All I knew was, I wanted my 'O1 Eagle, fixed and I wanted it back, period. What was it going to cost me? 

Nearly an hour and a half later as I waited in the lounge the verdict had come in. Without batting an eye “Here’s a thousand.”  I remember saying. “There’s more in labor repair cost in my insurance estimate that I won’t be using.”   I immediately proceeded to dictate what work I wanted done changing over adding and updating the necessary parts.  Making and transforming my O1 Eagle into the finest long distance touring machine, with comforts most others could not even imagine.

I don’t miss “Ann” there are plenty like her out there.  More than enough as I recall. Many would disagree with me, I’m sure. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve been there, done that. And I am still doing it. Kind of makes you think who is and who isn’t a has been. 

We all make choices and changes aren’t necessarily for the better. I am much happier now.  Sure, it was a costly lesson. But in reality, when I think about it, it wasn’t just the right choice, but that for $3,500.00 it was a bargain to keep what I had.

I am constantly asked how or why I got so many miles on my O1 Harley and many times, I tell them, " Its Cheaper to Keep Her" The other thing is I am proud to be a bit of a rebellious biker. I have also proclaimed, and I have said:

 I have been the only person in the world to have paid, NOT to own a 100th Anniversary Harley Davidson.  How I wish I could get this to Willie G.  

For those of you that ride may you keep yours up on 2 wheels.                                    

STURGIS to Saskatoon Pin Story

By Stix Douglas

A few years ago, I took a road trip by myself up north into Canada. While there I happened to stop by a motorcycle event happening at a Harley Dealership. I couldn't help but notice the majority of those attending, both men and women were wearing vest. Granted they help keep your body warmer in the cooler weather and did provide some protection against the cold. But they were wearing them more like a fashion statement. Instead of plain denim or plain leather vests. they were nearly filled with what I want to call purchased pins. The same cheap, sometimes funny ones, but foolish nevertheless that you could get form your local Five and Dime stores,

I am sure that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but seeing it only made me think they were want to be's.  They seemed to be trying to imitate the wiser older more experienced bikers. Ones whose vest would be decorated with pins from their many events.  Places where they had traveled or gone to over their many years of riding.  Having them all over the front of the vests as if to demonstrate or brag.


 It got me wondering if there really were any pins that you could actually earn, rather than just buy or purchase. By coincidence, I began reading an article on my way home from that trip.  I had been in Ontario, Canada it was mid-July that year. What made the article interesting was I noticed the National Canadian HOG Rally had been scheduled on the ending weekend of the Sturgis Motorcycle or Black Hills Motorcycle Rally and Races. I had thought it was rather strange they had scheduled it that way.

What raise my curiosity and then got me even more interested was in the article it stated that if you brought proof of attending the Sturgis Rally, they had a “special” pin for you when you arrived at the Canadian National Rally.



This was something that I was looking for, a real challenge.  It would be like reaching for a brass ring, a bit daring too perhaps. Since I would be doing this alone.  I'd be in a foreign country without knowing anyone along the way or while I was there.
Once I had gotten back state side and had stopped in my local Harley Davidson Dealership. I picked up the same issue magazine I had read in Canada. But something was quite different in it. The same story was missing. I didn't give it much thought at the time since I was busy getting things ready for my annual ride to Sturgis, SD.

I had virtually forgotten about it until I met a guy from Canada who was on his way and going to the National Canadian HOG Rally. It was while I was with my "Wise Guy" buddy's. We were all having breakfast, in a town thirty miles north of Sturgis, in a restaurant in Newell, SD.  We had struck up a conversation after having seen his license plate. It was then that I had asked him what his "proof" was?  He said it was his Gas receipt with the location and the date on it.  I was somewhat surprised and intrigued, wishing I had thought of that myself.

It would be a few more days but by that Friday, I had refueled and had started packing for the trip onto Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Canada. My "Wise Guy" buddy's  that I had traveled up to Sturgis with ,were somewhat disheartened, because of my earlier than normal departure.
I enjoy a little variety and different scenery when touring by motorcycle.  Rather than take the straight shot to Saskatoon from Sturgis, SD I had chosen a different route that would allow me to score a few more points on the ABC's of Touring. (But that's another story.)
These other roads were even more desolate. When I arrived the next day, I had rode approximately 650 miles from Sturgis the day before. I entered the facilities of the Rally at 4:00pm and presented my proof, the coveted Sturgis Gas receipt.
The woman behind the desk made a phone call and informed me, Quote: “ I’m sorry but registration closed at 2:00pm”. There was nothing she could do.”

I was frustrated and sadden. Perhaps angered a little, feeling as if I had been sucker punched.  I had foolishly been chasing after a mirage. I was stunned, and needed to rest, relax, and think a moment before I went off half-cocked.
Looking around I began to wonder what to do next.  I realized my plans were based on what would be happening that Saturday in Saskatoon. Now it seemed as if everything had suddenly changed. To make matters worse I had no idea what to do.

Needing to find a place for the night I pulled out my trusty Road Atlas. Then located a Provincial park not too far south of Saskatoon that had camping facility’s. After having a huge Chinese buffet supper I headed out and arrived at the park just before dark to set up my tent.

The next morning my 2001 Electra Glide Classic would NOT start. After using the park’s telephone for a considerable amount of time while I answered numerous questions over the phone I was informed there would be an additional charge that, I would have to settle with the driver to have the bike towed to the local dealership. The truck was also delayed an hour and a half longer than what I was told to be expected.

Once at the dealership I noticed that, not only was my seat’s backrest  but also my longhaired sheepskin were missing. These items where expensive and would not be easily replaced.

As I sat down and pondered my thoughts as I waited it was becoming clearer to me that in the brief 24 hours or so since I had left the States and come into Saskatchewan, the following had happened:

(1) I had raced to get to the Canadian National HOG Rally, but still got there too late to receive the “special” pin that I had came for.

(2) My motorcycle breaks down and will not start the next morning.

(3) Accessory parts of my motorcycle end up missing in transit,

(4) I had no idea of the cost or the expense of the repairs as I waited.

(5) It was already late afternoon and I had not had so much as a cup of coffee or anything to eat that day and was feeling sick to my stomach.


As I sat outside feeling sorry for myself, I begin thinking that this was becoming a very disappointing excursion. I was trying to remain as calm as I could, but by now I was shaken and ready to lose faith in my decision in coming. I was beginning to worry that I had taken on too much without enough preparation for the economical devastation this was going to cause.

As I waited, I tried to remain upbeat as I spoke with many of the workers and customers that happened by. After all it was Sunday and because of the National HOG Rally the dealership was open when they normally would not have been. That was actually a plus for me . So it could of been worse.

It was about this time when A regular patron of the dealership pulled up on his Harley. He had this rather large Green and Yellow Saskatchewan flag on the back of his “dresser”. I approached the “Canuck” to ask him where he had gotten it, since I had never seen one like it before.. He first started to tell me, but then he said: “You’re not from around here? Are you?” I shook my head no and then without hesitating, he took the flag off his bike and handed it to me. Saying;” Keep it, it’s yours. I can get another one you can’t.”

I was elated from that point on.  It was at that moment that I felt as if things were turning themselves around. Pat the tow truck driver returned a little while later and surprised me by handed me both my backrest and my missing sheepskin. He had traveled back and found it and then had worked the paperwork so I did NOT have anything extra to pay on the tow bill.

Then, someone had overheard the mechanics talking. They brought back some encouraging news. It was not the motorcycles module or its “computer brain” that was defective on my motorcycle. That would have made it a very expensive repair. Instead, it would be less costly. However, they were still weren't positive what was wrong but they were still working on it.

By this time, several of the dealerships crew had heard of my disappointment over the Sturgis to Saskatoon pin. As a nice gesture they went out of their way and got a group together as we all stood around.


I was presented with two distinctive pins, one was of the Canadian flag and another of the Provincial flag of Saskatchewan. It was a wonderful gesture and I felt honored and uplifted as I told them, I had something the other people at the National Canadian Rally did not have. I had new friends.
``
They stayed later than their closing time to make sure my bike was finished. It had been a cam sensor. The cost was minimal and I would be back in the wind. I thanked them, paid the bill, placed the Saskatchewan flag on the bike, and I left heading for a Chinese Buffet.

When I returned home after traveling 6,000 miles through 12 states and 4 Canadian provinces in the previous two weeks, I called the Canadian HOG to find out what had happened.

After talking to Mary Reddick, a HOG Member Services Coordinator who was gracious enough too not only answer all my questions but to put my mind at ease. She explained what had happened. It was then I found out that there were two different Hog Tales magazines.  A US and a Canadian version. She asked that I send her a fax of the gas receipt along with my address and telephone number. Which I took care of immediately.



I received my Sturgis to Saskatoon pin by mail a few weeks later. Although it has been a few years now.  I keep it with those ones I was given as I remember the memories and value of that trip. But most of all, I remember and value their kindness, and their friendship.

The Sturgis to Saskatoon Pin is more than just a trophy and therefore virtually priceless because it was earned, not purchased. It was more than just a learning experience, or an adventure, it was an experience Because it was with my Brothers in the Northern Winds.

It was a memory that I felt I needed to share.

I wish you all well in your travels….
.


Sincerely… STIX DOUGLAS

2019 The Two Day STURGIS

A funny thing happened on the way back from Sturgis in August of 2017.  After my last refueling appoximently 20 miles from home my 2001 Electra Glide Classic started hammering.  I managed to make it home knowing I had some significant damage.

I had limited funds and it would be nearly two years of it sitting collecting dust while parked inside in a corner of my pole barn covered with a couple sheets while I brewed over what to do about it.

In the short term I didn't want my riding season to be over, or to have to loose out and I had already  been shopping for my next Harley.  Luckily for me I had another ride, a 2006 Night Rod but I had lost interest in it. I didn't like it .  It was water cooled and  I never quite felt right about a water cooled Harley's and I still don't.

I happened to see a advertisement for the 2018  Harley Davidson line up and that there were
Demo rides available.  Just in case I grabbed the title to the 'O6 and a few items and headed for the Dealership looking for the new Road Glides. When I got there I immediately signed up and took one out for a Demo ride.

A 2018 Road Glide Special CVO

The motor on the CVO had a Stage III performance set up.  When you twisted the throttle it virtually would snap your head back . It had the Stage 2 Boom Sound System on it with the saddle bag speakers. Being a musician  I was more impressed with the incredible sound it produced then its performance. It was nice but still lacked the types of things I would require.
 Next thing I know I am buying a 2017 Road Glide Special and we're discussing the long list of accessories I want it to have.

My 2017 Road Glide Special  (before its transformation)

I ended up taking it home, so I could put the first thousand miles on it .  All the while My 'O1 Eagle sat in the pole barn. Covered in a sheet in the dark corner awaiting its turn to be repaired.  It kept eating at me.

Within a period of about two weeks, I had already put the first 1,000 miles on the Road Glide Special . I then had it trailered to the dealership to have it's First servicing  as well as to have  nearly 10 Grand worth of goodies added to it.

As time went on it became crystal clear that things would be more expensive then I had originally planned. I had also goofed up and had not figured on the taxes that would be added on with all the accessories. By the time I realized it, it was already too late to get it added in the payment. I finally  ended up having to take out a separate loan for all of the added expenses.  The bikes first servicing,
its first payment, and now an added payment on the second loan for all those taxes.

It had also dawned on me and had became very apparent that things were "different" and I am not talking just a few things. I am talking about EVERYTHING on the Road Glide Special was different. In the 17 or so years all the improvements were a bit overwhelming.

In 2018 I get busy with my music performing every Saturday at a Mexican restaurant called the El Mariachi and wasn't able to go to Sturgis.  I really didn't want to be using the Dream Machine for "Touring" and did NOT want to be putting those kind of miles on it. So I saved my money and figured to use what I saved on getting the "O1 repaired and perhaps then go to Sturgis maybe sometime in the future.

My Dream Machine shortly after it's transformation.

My mechanic buddy Butch had several other motorcycles he was still working on that was  ahead of mine and I knew it would be a while before he could get to it. So the  "O1 Eagle" would continue to collect dust. All the while I am cranking miles on the new "Dream Machine".

As 2019 rolled around  Butch kept asking about going to Sturgis. I had started planning and had blocked out the week on my calendar so I could be able to go, but my only condition was
that I would only go if it was on the "O1 since after all it was my Touring Weapon.

Butch had been the soul care taker of not one, but both of his parents for quite some period of time.  Plus It had been several years since he had gone.    I knew he was in need of a good vacation the kind that only a trip to Sturgis could provide.  He had gotten my hopes up earlier in the spring that perhaps he would finally finish up on these other bikes and could get to the "O1 of mine
and get it fixed in time.  But that was not in the cards and would not happen.

Butch's mother passed away and it put the skids on any thoughts of getting it repaired in time which also  meant it would be squashing my hopes of taking the "O1 or even going to this year.
.
I had frustrated myself over the possibilities for nearly two years now.  I wasn't ready to let the bike sit and rot. Knowing the 'O1 inside and out I really wanted to be able to continue riding it.  Sure the Dream Machine was nice. But it just wasn't the same.  It could never replace the "O1 Eagle and be the  "Touring Weapon" that it was made to be.
Besides, I had given this a lot of thought before I had even bought the Road Glide Special and had it turned into the Dream Machine.  I was bound and determined to see the 'O1 back up running and on the road handling the Touring duties.

I pondered over the possibilities
1. Do the repair work myself?  Highly unlikely too big of a job and chances are would not be able to put it back together but make things worse.
2. Find someone else that could do the work but then they wouldn't know much more than I about it or
 3. Talk to a Harley Davidson Dealership and have them do the repairs.

It was June 27th when I finally broke down and made the decision and called the St Charles Harley Davidson Dealership.  I  talked with the Service Manager Dewayne about my situation and what he could do about it. He told me he would use his top mechanic Steve to work on it.  He then assured me that once started on it that it would be about two weeks  before it could be completed.

Talk about your major heart surgery the crank had to come out.

On Tuesday they came and picked up the "O1 Eagle and by that Friday they suggested I come take a look at the progress and the damages.
This wasn't my first time seeing  the "O1 torn down this far.  Steve knew his stuff but this was a bit of a different challenge for him.  Somewhat excited and perhaps a bit optimistic working on a "older Twin-cam"  with a historic amount of miles already on it . This would be an "experience" that very few dealership mechanics would rarely ever see much less get a chance to work on. So there was a bit of "clout" and a feather in his cap if this turned out well.

"This was not my first Rodeo" is what I said to Steve.

By the time I had got there, Steve had made some rather surprising discoveries. There had been some
other things inside the motor that were damaged.  He had been looking at it from the stance as to what do you want to do with it, and how far do you want to take it ?
My first thoughts were to get a quarter million miles on it before retiring  it to just local rides.  But after speaking with Steve I was more inclined to go ahead with paying more on the expenses and get the quality and have the security to take the motorcycle closer to a 300,000 mile mark before  I would call it quits.

Steve suggested that I give him time to work up two different estimates. One that would get it back on the road with a minimal of costs.  The other with more of a long term and doing it right.
There was more back and forth an offer to send the cases to Milwaukee and have all the new motor with all the upgrades added to it. Stuff like the Screaming Eagle improvements including a double oil pump and it would have my engines numbers stamped into a new set of cases. All at an expense a bit cheaper than my higher estimate.
When push came to shove  there were several other items included that drove up the cost another two grand making the total on the repairs to  $ 7,100. before it was all over.

The clock was clicking down and it would have taken roughly another six weeks and I would be missing out on Sturgis otherwise. With the motor work finished I would only have roughly two weeks to get the thousand miles on it and serviced before heading out to Sturgis, SD.

Many may not have gone the route that I did,  and that's fine. But then again I am more stubborn and determined that most.  Perhaps I am becoming more of the "Old Biker" and more traditional when I tell everyone:  " Its cheaper to keep her. "  Perhaps I am just alone in that way of thinking.

Butch and I had talked briefly about our departure. He had not wanted to leave until Wednesday morning at the earliest. Even though I was more in favor of Tuesday.
As I waited, I got the "O1 Eagle  ready for its Tour.  Gathering the things I normally put together for the trip and spent time looking for other items. I had trouble remembering where they got stored.  It was a good thing I started early.

 I would only be in Sturgis for a couple days.  I wouldn't be needing as many clothes.
 One of the reasons for the short stay was I needed to be back by Tuesday.  I needed to be back for  my Fathers 90th birthday. I would also be playing music in Londell, MO. I ended up over packing anyway.

It always takes a good while to get packed and finding those things you don't use any other time of the year. Bungies, spare sunglasses, and etc. It had been two years and some of the items were harder to find then others. I had bought a new sheepskin but for some reason the old one just seem more appropriate and worked out easier to use for the trip.

All packed and ready for another Touring Duty, to Sturgis 2019

I had just finished getting the "O1 serviced, washed and cleaned up in time to load it for the trip. When I called Butch to touch base with him about  heading out.  I had seen the weather report and knew there was a chance that we might run into a sever Thunderstorm near Kansas City on the way but then it had been played down on the next forecast.  Butch was still not completely ready and still had to service his bike.  He had not packed yet and it was the night before we were to leave.
He had instructed me to call him at 4:00 AM, either way .

When I called the next morning he said he had not been to bed yet.  He was packed but wanted to leave later, and for me to go on ahead . That he would catch up .

It was a little after 5:30 AM when I left.  After topping off on fuel at the BP station in  Gray Summit , I headed out while it was still dark.
It felt a rather nostalgic and the engine still sounded rather "tight" as I went on alone getting on the Interstate.  At first I was doing 65mph, but by the time I had reached I-70 in Warrenton I kicked it up to 75 mph . I went on past Columbia, MO and looked to refuel in Boonville, MO.

I stopped into Mc Donald's after I had refueled.  I  pealed off a few things, got myself some
breakfast  and more coffee.  Having seen the weather and now with the sun up I could make out the thick storm clouds up ahead.  They first  looked as if they might be moving south of my route by the time I would get there.

Once back on the highway it looked more like I would be heading directly into the tail end of the Thundershowers. I begun watching for traffic coming the other direction with their wipers on.  That would be the time for me to pull off, perhaps under a overpass, to put on my rain gear.

Roughly 14 miles before Kansas City the clouds unloaded. I pulled over and under the highway just as I heard the Thunder cracking. Once under the overpass I took my time getting out my rain gear.
 Hoping the whole time that it would pass and be over with in a few more minutes. However it didn't.
Instead it poured even harder as I got back out on the interstate.

It was just my luck that I was in a ton of west bound traffic all moving at 30, to 40 mph.  The brake lights and tail gating drivers made it nearly impossible to stay at a consistent speed.  My hands were cramping as I held tight onto the grips and had to keep working the clutch.  I finally made it to the 429 by pass and eventually the traffic thinned. It continued raining the whole time until I had connected onto I -29 as I headed north.


Once I had made it onto I-29, I had hit reserve and knew I would need fuel but had already passed the first gas exit. Watching the odometer I nearly had enough to make it to St. Joseph .  I pulled into the next exit that had a gas stop.

A few other bikes had pulled in shortly after me. The pumps were "Pre-Pay Only" and it just set me
off with the stress of riding in such a heavy downpour and the worry of running out of fuel. 
 So when I went inside I let my frustration out when I shouldn't have.

"I had wanted to fill up, but I don't know how much its gonna take."  That was my statement.  "Why pre pay?" The two women behind the registers were quick with their response. " Just leave us what you think it will take."
With that I said, " oh okay! Here's five dollars, that should get me down the road far enough to another station where I can fill up there.  Oh and  I'll need a cash receipt."  Once I had the receipt I stormed out to the pumps. I hadn't realize it then, but I believe the Almighty must have certainly been listening.

The other bikers were hanging around and when I had come out, they asked which way I was headed.
They were seeing the storm as they were on their way south.  The clouds were massively thick going through several layers of the atmosphere.  They were amazed I had rode through it.

 I explained to them the longer that they waited the better because it would be heading more south. They had started putting on their rain gear as I got ready to leave.

 The motor POPPED, and acted up a bit like it was vapor locked.  It took several attempts before it did start.  I got on the highway I kicked up the speed and was doing 85 mph for the first time.  I pulled  off into the St Joseph exit that I remembered had a BP station and a Denny's Restaurant.  Butch and I had stopped at it many times years before.

After refueling , I  decided to pull off the rain gear I was wearing.  It had warmed up and the sun was now out.  I thought it would also give the motor a chance to cool down before I headed out again. But I soon found out that it had other ideas.


When I finally got ready to leave,  the bike didn't start.  I needed to move it.  So I pushed off and moved it where  I could work on  it,  that was clear and away from the pumps. With the sun out I went ahead and removed my coat and had to repack it into the bike as I waited and started assessing the situation . I was thinking it just needed to cool down more as I  gathered my thoughts.

An old gentleman in a truck pulled over by me about this time,  just as I got the tool bag out. I made several attempts to start without any luck.  He was very helpful, and knew the owner of the St Joseph Harley Davidson Dealership there in town.  He even called and had him on the phone for me.  He put it on speaker and we had a conversation while I pulled both spark plugs out and checked them. Both looked good and were dry. When I tested I got zapped so I knew I had FIRE.  It just would not start and I knew there was a problem. I thanked the gentlemen and told them I would have to make some calls next, and that I would be in touch.

I got my cell phone out and my first call was to Butch's house .  I spoke with his brother Jesse, who informed me that he had left roughly at 7:30 about 2 and a half hours behind me.  The next call was to  St Charles Harley Davidson to Dewayne to see what warrantee I had on the motor work.

D

I then called Butch's cell and left a voice mail and telling him I would be at the St Joe Harley Dealer.  I then talked with Harley Owner Group about Road Side Assistance. Before returning a call to St Joseph H-D that I would need to be towed.  They informed me the truck was out on another pick up. It would be coming but that it would be awhile.

It was close to 10:30 to 10:45 AM when I had first got into St Joseph.  It was sometime closer to 2 PM when they unloaded the bike and I had sat down at the dealership. Butch rolled in about 2:30 having got the voice mail, so he had to double back about 12 miles.

Around 3 PM the service manager came to get me. They needed me to take off the gear from off the bike, so they could start working on it. At the time it was parked on the floor near one of the work stations. As I removed some of the gear and placed it on a table close by I noticed all of the work stations were full.  We waited until they came again to show me what the problem was.

The rear cylinder had stuck an Exhaust Value.  The same head and exhaust valve it had originally back in 2017. It was upsetting because I had spent so much time and money to get the bike fixed .  Here it was happening again, how could that be?

Well the old mechanic there knew.  When they replaced the valve guide on my head, they replaced it with a brand new one. The motor had more than 200,000 miles on it and it should have been oversize to allow for wear.  It had been sent out to a vendor.

It wasn't too much longer after that the guys came out to give me more unexpected bad news. The bike would NOT be done that evening, and that I would need to spend the night . It would be finished the next day. The mechanic had other family commitments for that evening.

It was disappointing to say the least but shit happens. Butch had said I owed him a motel night when he had broke down back in 2015 on the way to Sturgis that year. So it wasn't what I had planned on, but to make it on to Sturgis  we really could use a good nights sleep.  The guys at St. Joe Harley knew of a cheap motel just down the road , and called ahead to make sure they had a room.  They even gave me a lift .
Butch met me there and I ordered  a pizza, and soda and had it delivered. We relaxed the rest of the evening. The motel had a continental breakfast the next morning.

I called about 9 AM and asked if I could also get a lift back . Before I could get my gear to the front office my ride was already waiting. Once at the dealership,I went in to ask if I could get a picture of the bike being worked on.    Not only was it finished, but was already sitting outside from it's test ride, already to go.

I stepped outside and they told me to fire it up . When I did it sounded right . Firing right up as if it had been finely tuned to perfection.  I immediately called Butch who was still in bed back at the motel and told him the bike was already to go. He had thought it wouldn't be ready till maybe noon.

I went ahead and took care of the bill but then went back to purchase a T-shirt of the dealership.  After all they had done everything they could to help make this as pain free as possible .
Once everything was paid for I headed back to the motel to see what was holding up Butch.

It was sometime around 10:30 by the time Butch got all of his gear strapped back on the bike and before we headed out. Almost exactly 24 hours  from when I had broke down.

It was now Thursday the sun was shining and we were twisting the throttle at 70-75 mph with an occasional 80 mph. Racing our way as we watched hundreds of motorcycles heading the other direction heading home.  It was shortly after getting back on the highway that I noticed that the bike no longer had that "tight" feel to it. That it was smoother more like it's old self.  Almost like it had amnesia and had just remembered who I was.

We were making good time, only stopping to refuel until we got to Rapid City.
It was there I had to stop in for a replacement "Throttle Lock". Mine had back out along the way.  Without it I was at the mercy of keeping my right hand on it constantly.  I couldn't  even reach down
to grasp anything like my coffee mug without slowing down and having to speed back up. Making it more difficult  to catch up with  Butch. Oh sure they got cruise controls now, yeah I know...

We had made it to Mitchel in South Dakota where we talked about getting something to eat and  decided to go on to Al's Oasis in Chamberlin instead.

When we got inside to Al's Oasis we were seated and found it odd to have had a black waiter with a very British  accent. We both made several trips to the soup and salad buffet.

While we were there I also called Larry Vissia our Sturgis buddy who's apartment that we stay at.  But I  had to leave him a Voice Mail message.  I thought we would of been there close to his 10 o'clock but Butch disagreed .

 On the way out of the Oasis we were stopped by an older couple that had the gift of gab, delaying our departure and our arrival time to meet up with Larry by at least another fifteen minutes.

We topped off our fuel and I was ready to refuel in Kadoka, but Butch blew through it and I came in on vapors to Wall Drug.
It was a bit after 11PM St. Louis time when we pulled into Sturgis and a bit later once we had awoke Larry.

You see all kinds of things at Sturgis I just wish I could of seen the inside.

The next morning when Larry got up he made me breakfast. A large Egg Omelet toast and pork bacon that was to die for along with a glass of orange juice.

He was very adamant that both Butch and I needed to meet up with a Christine Steel for some sort of interview at the Civic Center at 1 PM which was not far from Larry's. I assured him that we would be there.
Butch had slept in and Larry was already out the door and heading to work at Headquarters before Butch had even gotten up.
.

For the past several trips to Sturgis I had gone alone.  I had made a habit of going down early in the morning  to McDonald's to use their Wi-Fi and to score few free refills of coffee .   Just across from it is one of the Sturgis Signs.  It's become a rather popular place to have a photo taken.  It's a must do while in town to have one taken with their bike in front of it to show they have been here to Sturgis.

Even though it was already Friday the rally already looked nearly empty.  From every thing I seen including in town and the camp grounds it was as if it were one of the smallest of the rally's. For it to be considered to be the fourth largest rally would of had to of meant most left out much earlier.


I had gone back to Larry's and Butch was ready to get started on taking in the rally. I figured we  needed to stop in at the Harley Davidson HOG Hospitality room before it closed.   Harley had relocated the HOG portion of the rally out near the new Full Throttle Saloon.  We'd have to ride out past Bear Butte to where it was.

Bear Butte

.
I had wanted to take  a few pictures  and I couldn't help myself when Butch mention he wanted a picture next to one of the Harley Davidson Proto types.

A modern day " Old Skool" ?

Butch was rather impressed with it because of its design.  He had noticed something I hadn't.  It had the a new Milwaukee Eight engine that was disguised as a Shovel head chopper . It was on displays in the HOG hospitality area.

You really got to wonder what Harley is thinking sometimes when they buy into a company that produces Battery Operated Bi-cycles 

Thinking ahead for one to grow into?

My first view of the New Full Thro

The old Broken Spoke Saloon near the HOG Hospitality Center

Iron Sculptors of what I believe is Ghost Rider and Indian Larry

Since Butch had missed breakfast and once we had gotten or HOG event pins, he wanted to get something to eat.  So after we'd seen what they had left the HOG tent we took a different route  to get on I-90. It was a gravel road, but it saved us time and aggravation without having to double back through all the traffic in Sturgis.

Larry had volunteered us for this interview with the Sturgis Rally Chamber of Commerce so
I knew we had to be back to the Civic Center by 1 PM. I was thinking we had plenty of time.

We went on to the Windmill Restaurant outside of Rapid City known for it breakfast and supper buffets. The place is usually packed and parking sometimes is difficult as it was on this day. We had gone in and had been there awhile eating .  Butch had asked if I would get his tablet/cell phone from off his bike outside.
As I went out to bring it in, I noticed my head light was on and turned it off.  I had forgotten and left the key on when I shut the bike off using the kill switch.  Sure enough, when we had finished our meal and were ready to leave, my battery was dead. It didn't have enough juice to turn over.

What happened next still amazes me. Butch reaches in his saddlebag and pulls out this Power Pak. It's inside a real nice hard shell case that has two rather large jumper cable clamps that connected to it.  He places them on to my terminals for the battery and with the flip of a switch . POOF the bike starts.
 It was simply spectacular you had to be there. One of those moments you never wish on anyone and a solution I would never had dreamed of.  Looking at the time,  I realize we were going to be late and that we had better hustle if we were going to be back in time for the interview. One problem obstacle removed, check.

You would think that would of been the only delay. But it only gets better. Once back out on the Interstate my bike dies and I pull it off onto the shoulder  as I flip the reserve petcock.   It nearly comes to a stop before it catches and then restarts. It rattles me a bit cause now I'll need to stop for fuel before we can make it back. Just one more delay.

 I couldn't believe I was that low on fuel and in the confusion must have turned the reserve back because the bike dies a second time.  The bike slows and I have to move over and out of traffic and back onto the shoulder once again.  It nearly comes to a full stop before it catches a second time.

At the first station we come to we pull up to a pump and I go to use my credit card.  At first the pump would not come on and stops at like 37 cents.  We shut the pump off and try it again .  Still nothing. A third time we chose the lower grade fuel and I put in a few dollars to get us back to town.

 We made it to the meeting although it had already started. There were several cameras, and what looked like a media event . There were several police officers,  behind a set of tables, that were discussing the success of the 79th Sturgis Rally. Once they were finished,  there was a short break when Christine Steer introduced herself. She briefly explained what we would be doing and had us sit down up front behind the table.

She then introduced us to the crowd who then asked us questions.    It was sort of a work shop of sorts.  They wanted us to tell them a little about how long we had been coming to the Rally. They wanted our thoughts on how the rally had changed , and what we thought about the rally including what we would like to see done. There was more to it, but it gave them a different perspective , a different view from those of us that ride and have been coming there for a number of years.

Butch and I being interviewed in Sturgis

It was a valuable experience for everyone involved.  Made me think I was more important too.  That I was involved in something bigger. I enjoyed the whole thing, it was fun and a great opportunity.

Saturday Butch left out to met up with Wayne and to ride in the Black Hills.  I made another trip down to the Sign and then on to Main Street.   And visited Larry at headquarters.

The know it all man at Head Quarters in Sturgis, is none other than Mr Information Larry Vissia seen here with co worker Mary at the Information booth 

It had been a long tradition that while at Sturgis to "Register" at Headquarters. Although I believe many this year had either failed to do that or might not have known of the tradition.

Now I am not saying that this was the least amount I had ever seen on a United States map while I have been in the Black Hills, but if it wasn't it was a very close second. For whatever reasons the event just seemed smaller than the norm.  But that was a good thing, because it made it easier to get around, less traffic, less stops, easier access, and more room both to find a parking spot and to walk around.
I made a trip up to Newell, South Dakota and was back early enough when Larry had finished with the last bit of work at Headquarters.  He had let us know he was taking us out for Dinner.

Years earlier I had treated Larry to a place that I believe I had eaten the finest Steak in my life. He took us to the same place.  It was Lodge Deadwood. One of the more expensive in Deadwood and also very sheik.

What a way to cap off a stay with a visit to Lodge Deadwood. Larry treated us to the Finest in Dining  and told me they were excepting overnight reservations for next years rally starting at only $ 1,000.00 a night.

But Larry wasn't done with us yet. Although the Sturgis rally was over and they were breaking down all the tents and loading up in town, he treated us also to a trip back out to Deadwood.

He took us to a museum called  Days of "76  in Deadwood.

There was just too much to see and every kind of wagon from 1835 to 1910 in the newly finished lower level.  Just one of the many things you can't do with just one visit.  Their Old Rifle collection was extravagant .

Just one of Dozens of different wagons and other types of horse drawn equipment on display.

As if that wasn't enough Larry took us to Fort Meade the oldest Calvary Fort in existence just outside the city limits of Sturgis, in South Dakota. Although I didn't take any photos  it was one major educational visit that I wouldn't of known about otherwise.

It done my heart good to come out from the grocery store and see a pair of "Old School Putts" There was a  50's pan head parked next to this stone stock Knucklehead.

When we got in Sunday evening I started getting my gear packed up. Butch had gone to do some more shopping. I had my shower and finished what packing I could when everyone else had gone on to bed.
The next morning when Larry got up I got up with him got dressed and started loading my gear back onto the "O1 Eagle for the trip home. I thanked Larry for his hospitality returned his key to the apartment and left out before Butch had even gotten out of bed.

I stopped down at McDonald's for one last refill of coffee before going on and refueling in Rapid City. When I stopped in Chamberlin I took off my leathers and several layers of the heavier clothing and got comfortable.  I also removed my modular helmet.  Being able to enjoy the freedom of riding lidless is a pleasure that I think is under rated. The sun was out and the sky's were clear and sunny.

I had tried to match the refueling stops Butch and I  had made on the way up, on my way back.  I  failed at it miserably.  I had pushed harder doing 85 mph most of the way back, until I had gotten to Council Buffs.  From that point on, I slowed my pace back to between 70 to 75mph and got much better mileage .  Stuff I should of remembered.

As I passed St Joseph it was like fate.  I had to hit reserve and ended up pulling into that same gas station with the Subway connected to it. After I had refueled, I pulled the bike away from the pumps and parked it. Then I went back inside. I made amends and explained what had happened to me after I had left there on my way up. I apologized for my rudeness  and hateful remarks. I then went over, waited in line, and ordered a foot long. Striking up a conversation, I begun telling of my adventure to all those also waiting in line.  They say confession is good for the Soul.

When I got back out on I-29 it was getting dark, the sun was starting to set, but I could still make out the thick multiple layers of storm clouds up ahead . As I got closer to Kansas City it was as if the Thunderstorm and showers I had gone through on the way up, had never left. ahead.

Lucky for me I missed most of the heavier rain and was relived once I was out passed the city limits. But by then it looked as if I was chasing behind another Thunderstorm. It was a lighting show nearly the entire time until I got to Warrenton.  I had caught up to it. The pavement was wet from that point on the rest of the way in.

I don't remember what time it was when I finally made it home.  I had just survived one of the most expensive and perhaps also the shortest of my Sturgis excursions. I was glad to be back and to see my Dad for his 90th Birthday.

Dad and I at the Finish Line on his 90th Birthday

Word has it that I beat Butch back. But then Butch didn't come home for awhile.  He returned from his vacation some time in early September.

They really like me here !!!

There is always next year. Perhaps I will go earlier especially since it will the 80th.