C'mon, Nick. I know I didn't scare you off. What did you do....go back to work?? :p

No no, just letting it sit for a little bit. The next day finally finds me at the rally -with a new found caution from the lessons learned in Red Lodge. (go eeeeeasy Nick.

I need a dose of "Japhy Does sturgis" for the weekend. Hook a brother up.

As your semi Uncle, I command you!.....(C'mon, Nick)!

Hey, Man. That was LAST weekend!

I know. :huh:

I'm leavin' Red Lodge with intentions of Sturgis by the end of the day. It's about 102*, sun's bright, and my hangover is treating me like a prison prettyboy. I get a few miles down the road and run into this.


I'm standing there under the inferno in the sky, head pounding, thoughts all fuzzy. This was just too bizare for me to process right away. Not enough to send a guy to the "bummer tent" (woodstock reference), but surely enough to leave me just standing there scratching my cloudy head. Finally it dawned on me that it was merely the result of a guy, a bunch of shit, and even more spare time. There may have been some chemicals involved -you be the judge.

Ok, I'm very excited . . . but slightly confused. Is this from your previous trip or your current sojourn.

The Little Big Horn battlefield was on my list of "must see stuff", so I head east on I-90 to the Crow Reservation. There's a good time. Houses looked like they were less than ten years old and I don't think any of em had more than 2 windows that still had glass in them. I won't comment other than when I stopped for gas, I felt very white and way too light in the ass to linger in this neck of the woods. Sorry, no pics to share. By the time I got to Custer's Last Stand, I'd had about a gallon of gatorade and was feelin pretty good. Tons of bikers! (where were they at that gas stop???) At the small knoll where the fight was, they've done a great job of marking positions and what-not. You can really visualize it. I've never seen combat, so looking at all that and trying to imagine what it must've been like to be hunkered down behind that little knob with limited men and limited ammo, in that heat with not enough water surounded by men that want to kill you in the worst way -scared the shit outta me. Hit 212 east across the Cheyenne res. and the rest of south east MT. Skirted the corner of Wyoming, and rolled into Sturgis long after dark. I knew what to expect, but I wasn't really prepared for this. Duck-walking our bikes 3 per lane through town at a snail's pace. I found a place to duck in so I could call the campground for directions, and once I figured out where I was, and where they were, got there just as quick as I could! Rest and relaxation at last!

Previous trip. Alas, I will not be returning this year.