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Bike prepped, necessities packed, Gladys and I headed out of Edmonton around 9:30 AM to begin our planned trip to Sturgis. Before leaving, I gave Don Binns in Calgary a call. Don said he would meet us for breakfast. Following his directions, we located the coffee shop to meet at and had a good breakfast to get ourselves ready for the next leg of the trip.
For anyone who hasn't met him, Don is a nice guy. So nice, in fact, I didn't stiff him on the bill this time (I miscalculated my portion, last time we met). He also felt like doing a little riding and decided to travel with us, part of the way towards Fort Macleod.
Not long after Don had turned off, I got the first hint that I might have a problem with the bike. The voltimeter on my dash started showing lower and lower voltage. Yikes. How can this be? With my Dad's help (and impact wrench) I had just replaced the stator on this bike a month or so ago. The new stator couldn't be failing this early. Must be the regulator then, I thought.
 Wrenching the bike in the parking lot of the Harley-Davidson Dealer
in Rapid City (near Sturgis) - just one of our problems on the road
| My bike, a 1998 Anniversary Edition Road Glide, has a few klics on it (87,000 miles), so I had made a special effort to renew anything that might be questionable prior to this summer's travels - even rebuilding the top end of the motor.
I wanted to be as sure as possible because this would be the first, proper type of vacation we had a chance for in a few years and had been saving for some time to go on it. Still, as I said to my wife, you can work on a bike to improve your chances of trouble-free miles, but you can never guarantee you'll be without problems (which is why I always pack a good assortment of tools for trips anyway).
And a problem is what we appeared to have now. And so soon into the trip!
As I discovered later, the magnets had come loose inside my rotor, causing the charging system to fail. There's really nothing a person can do, preventive-wise, to predict a thing like that will happen - especially since the magnets coming loose is a rare thing. By the time we reached Ft. McCloud, we were coasting in neutral - the engine stopped. Pulled out the multi-meter I had packed and, sure enough, the battery was stone dead (10.4 volts).
It was 2:00 PM now and I knew we now would have to get towed into Lethbridge and get the bike fixed - all before 5:00 PM when the dealership closed, so I headed straight for the nearest phone. As it is Saturday and I don't want to hang around Lethbridge all weekend, time is our enemy.
Lethbridge can't send us a tow vehicle, as theirs is picking up another bike somewhere else, so I get the phone number of an alternate outfit. Call them up and they say they'll send a truck with a tilting flat-bed right away.
The up-coming repair and the towing bill was going to blow the heck out of our vacation budget. What to do? Well, I had made the Website for the Lethbridge chapter to support the rally they put on and they were going to send me a cheque for $525.00. I wonder if I could give their director, Al, a call and get the cheque brought to the dealership?
But there is one, teeny problem with going to Lethbridge...
 The ransom photo sent, proving we had the Lethbridge flag
|  The rocker Clarence made to help the guilty identify each other
|  The ransom demand note sent via anonymous email
| I was part of a 3-member group in the Edmonton chapter, called "The Black Ops", involved in stealing the Lethbridge Chapter's flag, 3 weeks prior. After accomplishing the dastardly deed, one of the members (Clarence) even had special "Black Ops" rockers made up for us to wear later. I had picked mine up just before leaving on this trip, planning to sew it on my jacket right away (figured it's good for conversations).
Hoping Al hadn't recognized me from the photo (or at least that he would be a good sport about it), I gave him a call. But Al tells me they had just mailed the cheque to me that morning!
After explaining my situation, Al graciously agreed to get a new cheque made up (which would require him running around town to hunt down their Treasurer) and bring it to the dealership ASAP.
Once in Lethbridge, I'm told that they don't have any rotors in stock for Evo engines, so we'd have to wait until Tuesday before one would get in. As it is Saturday, this is looking bad. That would eat up 4 precious days of our long-awaited, much-needed vacation.
Then, on a brighter note, Al came by with the cheque. Man, I was so grateful. Grateful that I could count on another HOG member to give a hand and grateful, while standing there talking to him, I hadn't sewed that "Black Ops" rocker on my jacket yet!
We now started to think of ways to get out of this potential 4-day wait for a rotor. Twin Cams being the newest thing, they had a rotor for a Twin-cam in stock and it looked like it would fit my engine (even though it is quite different in design). The mechanics proceeded to put 'er in and, as it turned out, the bike ran perfect! Well, how about that?
We are now ready to hit the road again, having lost only 3 hours (including the time spent waiting for the tow and such).
The towing cost had amounted to $140.00 (paid right away in cash) and the repair to the charging system was going to be $314.00 so, although we didn't like the unexpected expense, we felt fortunate to have dodged a vacation-ending bullet like that. I also knew I could get a $100.00 U.S. reimbursed for the towing, thanks to the H.O.G. Roadside Assistance program that comes standard with H.O.G. memberships.
Then, to put icing on the cake, the Lethbridge dealer agreed to accept the $525.00 cheque Al had given us, returning us the difference in cash! Good people there.
 Resting at Mammoth Springs, in Yellowstone Park
| After reaching the border and getting through the question period in the office by the guards (I'm so lucky that way), we removed our helmets and rode straight through to Great Falls, Montana, pitching camp at a KOA campground. The next day we rode through to Yellowstone Park and spent the night there.
Married for 30 years and having travelled much together, Gladys and I have our agreed-upon responsibilities. One of mine is making coffee (I like that task, as there's benefits to treating a woman right, first thing in the morning).
Coffee-making didn't proceed very smoothly that first morning in Yellowstone, however. I couldn't get the pump to seal on the little, one-burner Coleman stove we carry so, later that day, I began keeping an eye out for some 3-in-1 oil to fix that.
Then I realized how dumb I was. I had plenty of oil. Just take the dipstick out of the engine and dribble that onto the pump! Tried that next morning and I was in Gladys' good books again.
 Happier mood in our tent
| The riding in Yellowstone was fantastic. And exciting in places too - although Gladys might use different words to describe traversing the road construction through narrow, winding roads while leaving the park.
But there was better yet to come. We took Alternate hwy 14 from Cody and, near the end of that, got into some real high country with terrifically winding roads. Scrapin' the floorboards around hair-pins, passing slower-moving bikes and cars, using the gears to get everything possible out of that Evo... Gotta love it! By the time we were through that and into lower elevations, it was nice to stop, relax and change to cooler attire.
Then, once in Sturgis, the engine started stuttering really badly. So badly as to be virtually impossible to ride. It would alternate between dying completely and then suddenly racing in rpms (had to hit the kill switch on one occasion).
One of the draw-backs about fuel-injected, computer-controlled Harleys is that - once you have a problem like that - there could be many causes (fouled fuel injector, bad gas, bad sensor somewhere) and you pretty much need a diagnostic device to be hooked into the bike to determine the problem, so you don't want to just start replacing things by guessing (could get very expensive and still not remedy the problem).
Worse, I was quite certain that, given the number of people at Sturgis, the HD dealers in the area would not even look at the bike for several days, once we brought it in. Another potential vacation-eating event!
So off we went, towards Rapid City (the largest dealer in the area) - bike stuttering along, Gladys crying and praying the whole way. To be honest, I forgot to pray, but I was thinking about possible ways out of this bad situation.
This is where sticking to the same bike for several years started to pay off because I had encountered a problem just like this, 2 years ago. At that time it had turned out to be an engine temperature sensor and the bike was behaving exactly the same way now, as back then.
After the dealer predictably informed me they wouldn't look at the bike for at least 2 days (not even to simply hook it to a diagnostic device!), I told Gladys we to gamble. There was nothing else to do. I would buy an engine temperature sensor (the component I suspected was faulty) from the dealer and, having a good selection of tools with me, try to install that thing in the parking lot myself.
After buying the sensor I needed at a ridiculously inflated price (I know they're $85 Cdn in Edmonton, but I paid $100 U.S. in Rapid City), I set to the task.
 Lots of bikes in the HD Dealer lot
| But there was one tool I needed that I didn't have; a 3/4" deep socket (I had a regular 3/4" but not a deep socket one). Of course, the HD dealer in Rapid City - one of the best stocked around - doesn't carry any tools. Wouldn't want people to be fixing stuff themselves, perhaps?
Luckily, there happened to be a Snap-On Tools truck parked behind the dealer, so I walked over there and managed to buy myself a deep socket anyway ($17 U.S.). I now had what I needed.
During that time, a couple we knew from Edmonton happened to walk by. It was Farron and Tammy! Coincidences and strokes of luck seemed to be becoming the norm on this trip. Previously, that same day, we had discovered 3 other good friends of ours (Nelson, Frank and Lynn) from Edmonton were camped within 25 yards of us. Quite something, considering there were about 500,000 bikes in Sturgis and we hadn't made plans to meet anywhere.
With Farron lending assistance, and a couple of hours wrenching, cursing and baking to a crisp in the afternoon sun (and trying to keep track of tools I was lending out to other guys), we finally got the old sensor out and the new one in.
Fire it up and the bike runs. What's more, it ran absolutely perfect from that point in the trip on! Yeah! Another bullet dodged.
The rest of the trip, everything was perfect - or at least it sure seemed perfect, in comparison to the earlier part.
 Farron, Tammy and Gladys at Mt. Rushmore
|  Lovey-dovey posin' time
| To get back to Canada, we headed up to North Dakota, staying a night in the Indian Reserve town of Mobridge; battling strong winds the whole way. Interesting what no helmet laws will do to hair.
 Hairstyle, courtesy of the S. Dakota wind...
| At $8.00 per night, the campground in Mobridge was a good deal, so we decided to buy some steaks and stuff to make stir-fried vegetables over the campfire grill. Getting back from shopping, it was getting dark already and that's when we found out that we'd have to scrounge through the bushes for dead-fall, as there was no firewood available.
So into the bushes, armed with our flashlights we go. I eventually found a big, ol' dead tree and dragged that sucker about 500 yards to our campsite. Once there, we had at it with our little hatchet and, for the pieces too big to chop, burned them into halves all night long. That was fun. And the eating was great!
A long construction detour in North Dakota kinda got the best of my patience. By the time we met the highway patrol, I was doing 70 mph in a 55 mph zone. Not even waiting for the patrol car to turn around, I found a safe spot and pulled over right away. No way was he gonna let that pass, I figured.
And I figured right. When he turned around to get me, I was waiting right there.
"License and registration, sir."
"It's in my saddlebag", I replied - noticing how, as I momentarily dipped my hand out of his sight, into the saddlebag to dig out my wallet, the patrol man quickly stepped back and got his gun ready. Heh, heh. That's the States for ya.
After running my license and registration through his computer and sharing tales of his father's trips to Sturgis, the patrol man told me he was letting me go with just a warning. That was great news, considering what shape our budget was in. Next, I pulled out a map and got some excellent advice on which routes were the most scenic, on our journey back to Canada. After that, I realized it was actually a bonus, getting pulled over.
After getting through South Dakota, we stayed at the Buffalo Trails campground in Williston, North Dakota, where we met some folks from New York (below) who were on their way to the "Burning Man" festival. Sounds like quite an event there. Nice bunch of people; even offered us breakfast the next day. Riders too. Maybe we'll head to next year's Burning Man and meet up with them.
 Matt, Cory and Les from New York
| At Saskatoon, checking out the Canadian National H.O.G. Rally, we found out what the prices of accommodations were like and decided to grab a motel room in a small town outside the city instead.
As luck would have it, a few people showed up at our motel after the bar closed (and brought their own beer too!). That party didn't end until 5 in the morning, but I still managed to get up by 9. Got the Coleman stove out of the saddlebag and made a pot of coffee on the sidewalk in front of the motel (figured if I hadn't got kicked out of the motel from the night before, no one would bust my balls over this either).
Meeting with old friends and making new ones at the Canadian Nationals was enjoyable. One hard-bitten rider, Fred, who had also come up from Sturgis and had attended it for many years made an interesting remark. "Used to be that Sturgis was the real biker gathering where everyone lived simple, rode lots and pitched tents. Now it's mostly guys trailering their bikes in, riding to town and then standing on the street corner, trying to look tough in their brand new, fashionable leathers. You know what the real biker rallies are now? It's the HOG rallies! People coming here actually ride in and participate in rides once they're here!"
In the host hotel in Saskatoon there was a couple of bag pipers playing to entertain the crowd so, as we were preparing to ride back to our motel, I said to my wife, "Hold open the hotel doors when you see me back my bike up." We then gave them our version of pipe music before departing.
The half hour ride back to the hotel at midnight was a bit tricky on account of the pouring rain and the prevalence of deer in the area, so I took it slow. Good thing too. Soon I saw the brake lights flashing on the cars that had just passed us. Slowing down some more, we saw the large buck that one of them had collided with - the whole front-end of the car cratered in.
We were thoroughly soaked by the time we got to our dry quarters. No more partying. We were done for the night this time!
The next day, Sunday, was the last day of riding, as we headed home in strong winds and cool weather. Wore my plugged-in heated vest the whole way (sure makes riding enjoyable that otherwise would only be endured). Did the trip from Saskatoon to Edmonton in just slightly over 6 hours. Total distance travelled since leaving the previous Saturday: a little under 4,000 kms (if I correctly counted the number of times my trip odometer rolled over to zero).
Troubles on the road may seem bad at the time but, in truth, they make trips memorable as well. With this trip, we definitely have some memories we'll hang onto for a long time to come.
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Bike prepped, necessities packed, Gladys and I headed out of Edmonton around 9:30 AM to begin our planned trip to Sturgis. Before leaving, I gave Don Binns in Calgary a call. Don said he would meet us for breakfast. Following his directions, we located the coffee shop to meet at and had a good breakfast to get ourselves ready for the next leg of the trip.
For anyone who hasn't met him, Don is a nice guy. So nice, in fact, I didn't stiff him on the bill this time (I miscalculated my portion, last time we met). He also felt like doing a little riding and decided to travel with us, part of the way towards Fort Macleod.
Not long after Don had turned off, I got the first hint that I might have a problem with the bike. The voltimeter on my dash started showing lower and lower voltage. Yikes. How can this be? With my Dad's help (and impact wrench) I had just replaced the stator on this bike a month or so ago. The new stator couldn't be failing this early. Must be the regulator then, I thought.
| Wrenching the bike in the parking lot of the Harley-Davidson Dealer
in Rapid City (near Sturgis) - just one of our problems on the road
| My bike, a 1998 Anniversary Edition Road Glide, has a few klics on it (87,000 miles), so I had made a special effort to renew anything that might be questionable prior to this summer's travels - even rebuilding the top end of the motor.
I wanted to be as sure as possible because this would be the first, proper type of vacation we had a chance for in a few years and had been saving for some time to go on it. Still, as I said to my wife, you can work on a bike to improve your chances of trouble-free miles, but you can never guarantee you'll be without problems (which is why I always pack a good assortment of tools for trips anyway).
And a problem is what we appeared to have now. And so soon into the trip!
As I discovered later, the magnets had come loose inside my rotor, causing the charging system to fail. There's really nothing a person can do, preventive-wise, to predict a thing like that will happen - especially since the magnets coming loose is a rare thing. By the time we reached Ft. McCloud, we were coasting in neutral - the engine stopped. Pulled out the multi-meter I had packed and, sure enough, the battery was stone dead (10.4 volts).
It was 2:00 PM now and I knew we now would have to get towed into Lethbridge and get the bike fixed - all before 5:00 PM when the dealership closed, so I headed straight for the nearest phone. As it is Saturday and I don't want to hang around Lethbridge all weekend, time is our enemy.
Lethbridge can't send us a tow vehicle, as theirs is picking up another bike somewhere else, so I get the phone number of an alternate outfit. Call them up and they say they'll send a truck with a tilting flat-bed right away.
The up-coming repair and the towing bill was going to blow the heck out of our vacation budget. What to do? Well, I had made the Website for the Lethbridge chapter to support the rally they put on and they were going to send me a cheque for $525.00. I wonder if I could give their director, Al, a call and get the cheque brought to the dealership?
But there is one, teeny problem with going to Lethbridge...
| The ransom photo sent, proving we had the Lethbridge flag
| The rocker Clarence made to help the guilty identify each other
| | The ransom demand note sent via anonymous email
| I was part of a 3-member group in the Edmonton chapter, called "The Black Ops", involved in stealing the Lethbridge Chapter's flag, 3 weeks prior. After accomplishing the dastardly deed, one of the members (Clarence) even had special "Black Ops" rockers made up for us to wear later. I had picked mine up just before leaving on this trip, planning to sew it on my jacket right away (figured it's good for conversations).
Hoping Al hadn't recognized me from the photo (or at least that he would be a good sport about it), I gave him a call. But Al tells me they had just mailed the cheque to me that morning!
After explaining my situation, Al graciously agreed to get a new cheque made up (which would require him running around town to hunt down their Treasurer) and bring it to the dealership ASAP.
Once in Lethbridge, I'm told that they don't have any rotors in stock for Evo engines, so we'd have to wait until Tuesday before one would get in. As it is Saturday, this is looking bad. That would eat up 4 precious days of our long-awaited, much-needed vacation.
Then, on a brighter note, Al came by with the cheque. Man, I was so grateful. Grateful that I could count on another HOG member to give a hand and grateful, while standing there talking to him, I hadn't sewed that "Black Ops" rocker on my jacket yet!
We now started to think of ways to get out of this potential 4-day wait for a rotor. Twin Cams being the newest thing, they had a rotor for a Twin-cam in stock and it looked like it would fit my engine (even though it is quite different in design). The mechanics proceeded to put 'er in and, as it turned out, the bike ran perfect! Well, how about that?
We are now ready to hit the road again, having lost only 3 hours (including the time spent waiting for the tow and such).
The towing cost had amounted to $140.00 (paid right away in cash) and the repair to the charging system was going to be $314.00 so, although we didn't like the unexpected expense, we felt fortunate to have dodged a vacation-ending bullet like that. I also knew I could get a $100.00 U.S. reimbursed for the towing, thanks to the H.O.G. Roadside Assistance program that comes standard with H.O.G. memberships.
Then, to put icing on the cake, the Lethbridge dealer agreed to accept the $525.00 cheque Al had given us, returning us the difference in cash! Good people there.
| Resting at Mammoth Springs, in Yellowstone Park
| After reaching the border and getting through the question period in the office by the guards (I'm so lucky that way), we removed our helmets and rode straight through to Great Falls, Montana, pitching camp at a KOA campground. The next day we rode through to Yellowstone Park and spent the night there.
Married for 30 years and having travelled much together, Gladys and I have our agreed-upon responsibilities. One of mine is making coffee (I like that task, as there's benefits to treating a woman right, first thing in the morning).
Coffee-making didn't proceed very smoothly that first morning in Yellowstone, however. I couldn't get the pump to seal on the little, one-burner Coleman stove we carry so, later that day, I began keeping an eye out for some 3-in-1 oil to fix that.
Then I realized how dumb I was. I had plenty of oil. Just take the dipstick out of the engine and dribble that onto the pump! Tried that next morning and I was in Gladys' good books again.
| Happier mood in our tent
| The riding in Yellowstone was fantastic. And exciting in places too - although Gladys might use different words to describe traversing the road construction through narrow, winding roads while leaving the park.
But there was better yet to come. We took Alternate hwy 14 from Cody and, near the end of that, got into some real high country with terrifically winding roads. Scrapin' the floorboards around hair-pins, passing slower-moving bikes and cars, using the gears to get everything possible out of that Evo... Gotta love it! By the time we were through that and into lower elevations, it was nice to stop, relax and change to cooler attire.
Then, once in Sturgis, the engine started stuttering really badly. So badly as to be virtually impossible to ride. It would alternate between dying completely and then suddenly racing in rpms (had to hit the kill switch on one occasion).
One of the draw-backs about fuel-injected, computer-controlled Harleys is that - once you have a problem like that - there could be many causes (fouled fuel injector, bad gas, bad sensor somewhere) and you pretty much need a diagnostic device to be hooked into the bike to determine the problem, so you don't want to just start replacing things by guessing (could get very expensive and still not remedy the problem).
Worse, I was quite certain that, given the number of people at Sturgis, the HD dealers in the area would not even look at the bike for several days, once we brought it in. Another potential vacation-eating event!
So off we went, towards Rapid City (the largest dealer in the area) - bike stuttering along, Gladys crying and praying the whole way. To be honest, I forgot to pray, but I was thinking about possible ways out of this bad situation.
This is where sticking to the same bike for several years started to pay off because I had encountered a problem just like this, 2 years ago. At that time it had turned out to be an engine temperature sensor and the bike was behaving exactly the same way now, as back then.
After the dealer predictably informed me they wouldn't look at the bike for at least 2 days (not even to simply hook it to a diagnostic device!), I told Gladys we to gamble. There was nothing else to do. I would buy an engine temperature sensor (the component I suspected was faulty) from the dealer and, having a good selection of tools with me, try to install that thing in the parking lot myself.
After buying the sensor I needed at a ridiculously inflated price (I know they're $85 Cdn in Edmonton, but I paid $100 U.S. in Rapid City), I set to the task.
| Lots of bikes in the HD Dealer lot
| But there was one tool I needed that I didn't have; a 3/4" deep socket (I had a regular 3/4" but not a deep socket one). Of course, the HD dealer in Rapid City - one of the best stocked around - doesn't carry any tools. Wouldn't want people to be fixing stuff themselves, perhaps?
Luckily, there happened to be a Snap-On Tools truck parked behind the dealer, so I walked over there and managed to buy myself a deep socket anyway ($17 U.S.). I now had what I needed.
During that time, a couple we knew from Edmonton happened to walk by. It was Farron and Tammy! Coincidences and strokes of luck seemed to be becoming the norm on this trip. Previously, that same day, we had discovered 3 other good friends of ours (Nelson, Frank and Lynn) from Edmonton were camped within 25 yards of us. Quite something, considering there were about 500,000 bikes in Sturgis and we hadn't made plans to meet anywhere.
With Farron lending assistance, and a couple of hours wrenching, cursing and baking to a crisp in the afternoon sun (and trying to keep track of tools I was lending out to other guys), we finally got the old sensor out and the new one in.
Fire it up and the bike runs. What's more, it ran absolutely perfect from that point in the trip on! Yeah! Another bullet dodged.
The rest of the trip, everything was perfect - or at least it sure seemed perfect, in comparison to the earlier part.
| Farron, Tammy and Gladys at Mt. Rushmore
| Lovey-dovey posin' time
| To get back to Canada, we headed up to North Dakota, staying a night in the Indian Reserve town of Mobridge; battling strong winds the whole way. Interesting what no helmet laws will do to hair.
| Hairstyle, courtesy of the S. Dakota wind...
| At $8.00 per night, the campground in Mobridge was a good deal, so we decided to buy some steaks and stuff to make stir-fried vegetables over the campfire grill. Getting back from shopping, it was getting dark already and that's when we found out that we'd have to scrounge through the bushes for dead-fall, as there was no firewood available.
So into the bushes, armed with our flashlights we go. I eventually found a big, ol' dead tree and dragged that sucker about 500 yards to our campsite. Once there, we had at it with our little hatchet and, for the pieces too big to chop, burned them into halves all night long. That was fun. And the eating was great!
A long construction detour in North Dakota kinda got the best of my patience. By the time we met the highway patrol, I was doing 70 mph in a 55 mph zone. Not even waiting for the patrol car to turn around, I found a safe spot and pulled over right away. No way was he gonna let that pass, I figured.
And I figured right. When he turned around to get me, I was waiting right there.
"License and registration, sir."
"It's in my saddlebag", I replied - noticing how, as I momentarily dipped my hand out of his sight, into the saddlebag to dig out my wallet, the patrol man quickly stepped back and got his gun ready. Heh, heh. That's the States for ya.
After running my license and registration through his computer and sharing tales of his father's trips to Sturgis, the patrol man told me he was letting me go with just a warning. That was great news, considering what shape our budget was in. Next, I pulled out a map and got some excellent advice on which routes were the most scenic, on our journey back to Canada. After that, I realized it was actually a bonus, getting pulled over.
After getting through South Dakota, we stayed at the Buffalo Trails campground in Williston, North Dakota, where we met some folks from New York (below) who were on their way to the "Burning Man" festival. Sounds like quite an event there. Nice bunch of people; even offered us breakfast the next day. Riders too. Maybe we'll head to next year's Burning Man and meet up with them.
| Matt, Cory and Les from New York
| At Saskatoon, checking out the Canadian National H.O.G. Rally, we found out what the prices of accommodations were like and decided to grab a motel room in a small town outside the city instead.
As luck would have it, a few people showed up at our motel after the bar closed (and brought their own beer too!). That party didn't end until 5 in the morning, but I still managed to get up by 9. Got the Coleman stove out of the saddlebag and made a pot of coffee on the sidewalk in front of the motel (figured if I hadn't got kicked out of the motel from the night before, no one would bust my balls over this either).
Meeting with old friends and making new ones at the Canadian Nationals was enjoyable. One hard-bitten rider, Fred, who had also come up from Sturgis and had attended it for many years made an interesting remark. "Used to be that Sturgis was the real biker gathering where everyone lived simple, rode lots and pitched tents. Now it's mostly guys trailering their bikes in, riding to town and then standing on the street corner, trying to look tough in their brand new, fashionable leathers. You know what the real biker rallies are now? It's the HOG rallies! People coming here actually ride in and participate in rides once they're here!"
In the host hotel in Saskatoon there was a couple of bag pipers playing to entertain the crowd so, as we were preparing to ride back to our motel, I said to my wife, "Hold open the hotel doors when you see me back my bike up." We then gave them our version of pipe music before departing.
The half hour ride back to the hotel at midnight was a bit tricky on account of the pouring rain and the prevalence of deer in the area, so I took it slow. Good thing too. Soon I saw the brake lights flashing on the cars that had just passed us. Slowing down some more, we saw the large buck that one of them had collided with - the whole front-end of the car cratered in.
We were thoroughly soaked by the time we got to our dry quarters. No more partying. We were done for the night this time!
The next day, Sunday, was the last day of riding, as we headed home in strong winds and cool weather. Wore my plugged-in heated vest the whole way (sure makes riding enjoyable that otherwise would only be endured). Did the trip from Saskatoon to Edmonton in just slightly over 6 hours. Total distance travelled since leaving the previous Saturday: a little under 4,000 kms (if I correctly counted the number of times my trip odometer rolled over to zero).
Troubles on the road may seem bad at the time but, in truth, they make trips memorable as well. With this trip, we definitely have some memories we'll hang onto for a long time to come.
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