Cycle News - Archive Issues - 1980's

~ Sturgis 181: Motorcycling's Mardi Gras e~!!!!!!ates 41st year The chartered Greyhound with its vacation bible school cargo floated down Junction Avenue lN~ like a blimp in a hailstorm. Surrounded on all t sides by motorcycles zipping past it, the occupants stared out at the mysterious world they had somehow stumQJ bled upon with noses pressed flat 0.. against the window glasss and ~ 8 .... QJ en 20 eyes as big as silver dollars. Surely they must have thought they had reached the final depth, the last circle in the pit of hell itself, the place where the river Styx flowed most rapidly in its banks. But, it wasn't a guided tour of the Inferno. No Dante held the wheel. It was simply the 41st annual Black Hills Motorcycle Rally and Races. An event, which until about five years ago, was one of the best kept secrets in motorcycling. All that has changed now, and the rally which used to last only a few days, has assumed an almost monstrous proportion that threatens to topple it. A little history about the area and the event would probably help the reader understand what has happened over the years. First of all, the rally is held in a small isolated western South Dakota farming and ranching community of 4,999 by the name of Sturgis. Among the town's claims to fame are that about 100 years ago General G.A. Custer tramped through on his way to a just reward and that the Star Spangled Banner got its start as the national anthem at nearby Ft. Meade. In addition, the Sioux Indians believe the Black Hills area to be holy land with the most sacred of that land to be the extinct volcano known as Bear Butte which is just a few miles outside Sturgis. From the crest of Bear Butte, an hour walk from the base for the hardy hiker, you can see how the flat midwestern plain gives way to a gently rolling landscape that culminates in the Black Hills in general and Terry Peak specifically. On a clear day you might not see forever, but you will see a piece of several neighboring states and maybe all the way to Pierre if you have binoculars. For the history buffs there are excellent, though small, museums at Bear Butte and at Ft. Meade that document much of the area's history. Unfortunately, the great majority of rally participants rarely visit them and leave the Black Hills ignorant of the land and its abundant heritage. About 40-odd years ago, before the Hitler war, several young bloods in Sturgis used to go out to the fairgrounds which then were outside of town and cut a few hot laps with their motorbikes or souped up Ford T's and A's. Things being what they are in a small town, people would drop by and watch and it got to be the "thing to do." It was only a matter of time before someone put two and two together and came up with a real race program. That someone was lC. "Pappy" Hoel who just happened to own the local Indian motorcycle dealership. Naturally Hoel didn't do everything to get the event rolling, but enough that he is generally credited with being the founder. The sad thing is that few of the approximately 42,000 visitors to this year's rally recognize Hoel on sight or realize his importance in the rally's history. .. ..... may be just.. as well with....... Which ..... .. .. .... Hoel because he felt at the beginning and still feels that the rally is secondary to his ftrst love: motorcycle racinjt. Hoel has devoted his time more and more in the last three years to another project, the Whtie Plate Flat Trackers. The WPIT (which the writer happens to be secretary of), is an organization dedicated to dirt track riders who held expert numbers prior to 1970. Although Hoel's name does not appear as an officer in the White Plate organi· zation list, it is his inspiration that started it and his work that finally brought it into being. This year marked the second meeting for the group, and Hoel was able to show off his town and the new lighted WPIT memorial to roughly 50 old timers, some of whom had raced at Sturgis in the '305, '405, and '50s. Thurs· day was White Plate day with a Chamber of Commerce hosted breakfast for the group and then an after· noon dedication ceremony for the memorial. The memorial itself is a six-sided edifice with a V-twin engined racer streaking along on the top. On one side is an introduction by AMA Executive Director Lin Kuchler, who was originally slated to speak at the dedication but was grounded by the air controllers strike. On the other sides are listings of racers that were nominated by the charter members, a memorial to riders who have passed away, and the names of those companies which have contributed to the construction of the memorial. Oddly, America's only motorcycle company is not a contributor although many of the names of the memorial rode Harleys. Several Japanese companies, Honda and Yamaha to name two, have contributed to the memorial, however, a small gesture on their part no doubt, but one that was appreciated as several speakers at the dedication ceremony made note of it. With time, the Black Hills event grew. Every year a few more riders, a few more friends they had brought along would show up. For a good while the whole rally camped out at Hoel's, and Mrs. Hoel served up breakfast. In town, the Chamber of Commerce hosted a free dinner for all who camel That happned up until about six years ago. After about 1975, the numbers got to be too many. Why? Because the event got "discovered." For that, Cycle News, Bob Bitchin, then of Biker now of other publications, and yours truly must take some of the blame and some of the credit I feel. In 1974, Chuck Clayton, founder of the sprawling Cycle News publishing empire with East, Central and West editions. came to Sturgis and wrote about it. It was the first real exposure of the event on a national scale. At the time one block of Main Street was blocked off for motorcycles only. A year later, Biker was under the CN corporate umbrella, and Bob along with Injun Joe, his assistant, and my· self made the Trek to Sturgis. To be blunt we were knocked out of our socks. We couldn't believe it! Coming from the hype and hustle of smogtown we were overcome by the hospitality of small town America and --.~~--~----_.-------- the fact that bike gang members with colors flying rubbed elbows with AMA tour club types on .the street and in the bars and everyone got along fine. There was no pressure on any side to establish "turf' or to provoke any hassles. At the time there were also very few vendors, the event had not become big enough to attract any of the current wave of commercialization. The first of the black T ·shirts with Sturgis silk screened in white across them had yet to appear. The biggest hassles were getting fed in the local cafes; there were only a few then, and getting people to shut off their bikes at a decent hour in the park. People actually slept in the parkl The beginning of the all night burn the outhouses live sex show and party til'ya'puke era was still a year or so' away. After that year things changed rapidly. Bob wrote the event up for everyone under the sun, I supplied the photos, and things went crazy. The rally was born 41 years ago, but actually has come alive in the last five. Each year has been a steady growth in the numbers of people and in the number of days the thing seems to wear on. "Wear on" is an appropriate term to describe many Sturgis residents' nerves as they wish for a return to a simpler time when the numbers of both people and days were less. Although the event had always been slated as a week long, people didn't really start getting into town until Wednesday or Thursday with the high point being the Sunday half mile races at the fairgrounds. That is no longer true. Cyclists have been arriving earlier each year due to several factors. Number one is probably that they want to enjoy the sights before the great mass of people arrive. This has tended to lengthen the time that larjte numbers of cyclists are highly visible in the area. This year the influx began over a week before the scheduled start and by Sunday, a day before the "official" start and two days before any event, the first block of Main Street had to be closed off to cars due to the crush of bikes. Another factor :s that the rally is scheduled between two other Black Hills events that attract people from across the Mid-west. The first is an affair called Days of '76 in nearby Deadwood, the second is the central states fair in Rapid City. "The Days" are basically a three day western celebration of Deadwood's past with homage paid to the gold miners, gamblers, saddle tramps, prostitutes and gunfighters that made up most of Deadwood's early population. Deadwood is where Potato Creek Johnny, gold finder of legend, Wild Bill Hickok, of wild west fame, and Calamity Jane, a woman of interesting reputation to say the least, all found their final place on earth. About six feet of it on the side of a steep hill known as Mount Moriah. Despite its international reputation, which it cultivates for tourism, as a brawling wide open western town (the state closed the local bordellos within the last year and if you want to gamble you don't have to look far), Deadwood has always been somewhat nervous about the bikers that its outlaw reputation attracts. Many of the outlaw bikers would take the opportunity of getting two for one and go to the Days of '76 on the weekend that preceeded the rally and stay over for at least the first few days of the Sturgis event. This year, Deadwood decided to do something about their biker clientel. They all but banned anything on TwO wheels from the streetsl New city ordinances made it illegal to park downtown except for two_designated parking areas, one just coming into the business district and another at the courthouse which was several blocks away from the main entertainment section. Even if a cyclist parked his bike in the designated area his troubles weren't over. To get into any of the watering spots he had to pass an inspection of sorts. That is, if the man at the door determined that his chrome plated chain belt with silver buckle was a lethal weapon or that his watch band had a few too many spikes on it, then he was not admitted. The fines were $100 plus towing fee. Several local motorcycle groups tried to fight the ordinances, but had trouble getting an attorney that wanted to become involved. The AMA was contacted but nixed any action because the city had provided specific motorcycle parking areas. More than a few people were afraid that the ordinances would provoke a confrontation between bike gangs and local authorities. As it turned out the Deadwood ordinances were the best thing that could have happened ..... for Sturgis and other Black Hills communities. Bikers passed the word to boycott the town and signs and bumper stickers suddenly appeared asking everyone to avoid any hassles and leave Deadwood alone. Thursday afternoon a loosely organized protest run was held from Sturgis to Deadwood with a police escort. Between 200 and 300 bikes passed through Deadwood and out again in a show of solidarity. Having had the welcome mat jerked out from under them, the majority of cyclists garnered generally favorable reactions in other hills towns. Spear. fish, which competes with Deadwood for tourist dollars, was especially pleased with the additional business. In Belle Fourche, which hosted the AMA/Dragbike! Bikernationals, an unofficial part of the rally for the last TwO years, over 3,000 fans turned out for the first day of racinjt at Black Hills Dragway. And in Sturgis, conservative estimates placed the additional business to the community at $1.5 million. It appeared that few Sturgis businesses or residents were going to let a good opportunity to make money get away. On Main Street, Junction Avenue and Lazelle, the three major traffic arteries, signs were placed in windows, on fences, in lawns and driveways, advertising rental spots for vendors. Young boys held up signs along the street proclaiming a wash and wax job for $3.75. ~rvice stations suddenly sprouted new enterprises on their concrete aprons, with everything from rally souvenirs to "Harley Dawgs" on sale. In fact, if someone arrived in Sturgis without any idea of what motorcycling was about, within the space of time it would take him to walk one block of Main Street he could have been com· pletely outfitted in a biker lifestyle out· fit complete with leather pants, and vest, a black rally T'shirt, hundreds of cycle pins and patches, a commemorative buckle. belt, and ril)g, even a choice of tattoos. If he possessed cubic money he probably could have left his one block sorty astride a custom bike with a handsome female in tow. The commercial side of the rally is a

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