Hog Heaven

$40 will get you into heaven for a night.  There is a discount if you stay for a week.  After a couple of weeks heaven closes and you must go to---somewhere else.  It is controlled access.  If you do not pay you do not get in. 

Hog Heaven is a compound for motorcyclists.  There are other bigger and more famous compounds such as the Buffalo Chip or Full Throttle Saloon.  They even made a reality TV show on the Full Throttle Saloon.  Those places have women dressed like the women in Hooters.  Hog Heaven does not.  You have to bring your own. 

There are hundreds of acres fields which have been converted to a camp ground.  There are areas for trailers, RVs and bike/tent  camping.  In the tent camping area it is essentially a free for all.  Find a spot and pitch your tent.  Park your bike next to the tent or somewhere close.    There are thousands of folks camping.

Everything you need is at Hog Heaven.  They have a main bar area with a band that plays until midnight.  They serve alcohol and food at the main bar. 

They have a couple of satellite bars with food.  A couple of shower houses with modern plumbing and portable toilets strategically placed around the camp. 

It is quite a sight.  Thousands of tents, trailers and motorcycles.

I feel like an outlier.  I ride a Honda.  95% of the bikes are Harleys.  Most folks come in a group of at least two.  I ride alone.  I have earned some respect.  When people hear how far I have traveled and the places I rode to, they realize that I am a bit serious about this riding thing.   

I pick a flat spot near another Goldwing with a Minnesota license plate and set up camp. 

I chat with the man from Minnesota.  He has brought his eleven year old son along.  He has towed a small camping trailer behind his Honda.  He is here for the week.  We have a beer with another couple.

It will be an interesting night.  I get my scouting report and head off to Sturgis. 

The Walk of Shame completed, the adventure continues

The Ranchester Wyoming walk of shame has been completed.  The adventure must continue.

Next on the adventure is the famous or infamous Sturgis Motorcycle Rally and the Black Hills.

Sturgis is a small town on I-90 that has been having a motorcycle rally for 75 years.  It happens the first week of August every year.  The expectation is that anywhere between 600,000 and 1 million motorcyclists would attend the 75^th anniversary rally. 

I have never been to a giant motorcycle rally.  As a kid I recall seeing packs of motorcycles heading west on I-90.  I have seen packs and riders along my trip.  I have been through Sturgis on non-bike week.  It is on many a bucket list.

Reviews are somewhat mixed.  It is known as a wild and decadent place.  Some people go every year. It is their vacation.   Others have attended and suggest that I ride right on by. I need to make my own evaluation. 

So I cross the great plains of Wyoming and South Dakota.  I head for the Deadwood exit.  I need gas again.  I am a bit more sensitive to this whole gas thing.  Thousands of bikes on the road.  Many more bikes than cars.  It is crawling with motorcycles.  Nice roads, but it is ridiculously congested. 

I want to explore but now it is time for my next trick, I need a place to lay my head down.  It has been a long day.  I motel is out of the question.  I do not intend to pitch my tent in the dark. 

I head for Sturgis, a short ride from Deadwood.  I see people camped out along the way in people’s lawns and some smaller campgrounds.  I do not find what I am looking for.

On the South side of I-90 I see a sign for Hog Heaven.  I have found a home for the night.

12 seconds

12 seconds can put you in an entirely different place.




I like that new place!

Telecommuting

The internet thing.  I think it could get big ;-)

It is a beautiful thing to be able to work remotely. 

I like the beach, sun and water.  Not bad duty.

2016 Minnesota State High School All Hockey Hair Team

Back to my roots.  Funny stuff

Thought for the day

Sitting and thinking

Simple pleasures are still the best.  Yet that make me somewhat of a hypocrite.   I work hard and chase the money and sometimes need to be reminded of simple pleasures. One of life's contradictions. 

I enjoy the road less traveled. I search the wild places for peaceful discoveries. I avoid highways when possible. I have been to 49 states and am still missing Hawaii

I have seen and climbed mountains.  I have paddled through remote Canadian lakes.  I have dug my toes into the sand and dived in the ocean.

I believe we are each responsible for our own happiness. I would like to leave the world a better place than I found it. 

I like mechanical things. They excite me. I want to know what makes them tick.

I love my dog and hope I can be half the man he thinks I am. He does not try to change me and forgives me when I fail.

I like most food, a little spice is good.

I grew up in Minnesota near Lake Wobegon, and did a 12 year tour for work in Houston.  

I am smart and pretty independent.  Last summer I rode a Honda motorcycle to Colorado and Yellowstone solo.

My sons are great and pretty well launched.  The oldest in an accountant and the youngest is a Marine.   I did alright with them.

I love music and great lyrics.

I have been lied to and cheated on.

I am a romantic. I won’t sit at home and wait for luck to find me. I will chase it down.

I like to cook.

“I am convinced that Adrenaline is an essential nutrient and that we take risk not to escape life but rather to prevent life from escaping us.” Author unknown.

I like to think, talk and read. I try to learn, always.

I am an over achiever. “That which doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger”. 

Travel and discovery are important to me.

It is a pretty good start.

Day nine, the walk of shame

So, when we last left off I was tooling down I-90, stressed, running on empty, climbing an overpass and heading for an exit which might have gas.  The engine dies, it is completely out of gas.  My efforts to restart fail.



Fortunately an object in motion tends to stay in motion.  I am coasting my 800 pound motorcycle on top of the overpass and have a downhill run to the Ranchester Wyoming exit.   My spirits are lifted. Fuck yea!   Surely there will be gas near the bottom of the exit.  I am going to make it.

I hit the exit still moving at 30 MPH.  No one runs me over as I am now travelling at well below the 75 MPH speed limit.  The anticipated service station at the bottom of the exit does not exist.  Fuck noooo.



The town of Ranchester lies off to my right.  It is downhill. There is hope.

I run the stop sign and keep coasting. My bike is getting slower and slower.  I cruise the main drag at a walking pace until the bike will go no further. 


I tilt the machine.  I rock it.  It will not start.


There is no nearby gas station. There is a gas station 3/4 of a mile ahead.  My coasting ends on Main Street with the gas station in sight but no more momentum to get me there.  So I come to a stop on Main Street.



Salvation is in view but I will not be riding there in style.  The bike will not start.  One does not push a Honda Goldwing.  Or at least not very far.



So I walk.  I am the only pedestrian in Ranchester.  Several bikes ride by me.  They are obviously better planners than I am. 



I buy an $18 gas can, fill it up and make my walk of shame back to the bike.

The woman at the store told me I was lucky.  They had no gas the day before.



A Goldwing will hold 6.9 gallons of fuel when empty……..

Love and the art of motorcycle maintenance

Some good stuff here.   She is a good writer.   I think I am in love....




"I came to motorcycles because I felt more isolated than ever: I was alone and unformed and in the midst of psychic upheaval. I wanted a shape all my own, a shape that didn’t hinge on another person. For a long time, motorcycles became that shape....




It will remind me of how good it felt to share myself with another person, to feel like I finally knew where home was, and then how it felt to cut that safe haven away and be adrift once more. It will remind me that when I started riding, I wanted to grow into myself and I did; I sought a shape and I found it."




http://www.nytimes.com/2016/03/06/fashion/love-motorcycle-independence.html?_r=0


Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance is also a fine read!

Good Matches for the INTJ

Sometimes that is what it feels like.  I am beginning to care less and less.  THis week I think I doged a crazy one. 

I had an interesting but brief relationship in February.  I now run when things get a strange.

We spoke Sunday afternoon.  I told her I was invited to dinner and to watch the Academy Awards with some friends. 

Then the texts started.  Highlights include:

OK have fun

I am the prefect one

Don't be afraid of me

We are OK?

Hope your night is amazing

You are a thinker-what are you thinking?

Please disregard my ramblings-too much beer, not enough oxygen.  I care for u, that is all

11 texts in all!

I sent her a text that she was too clingy too soon. And that I was not perfect nor was she.

She then set me an apology which was somewhat reasonable and contrite.

Four hours later she sent another text

She claimed that "Bobby stole her phone and had the passcode because it was the same as the garage door code and he sent those texts to mess with me.  She graduated from someone clingy to a liar.  I dislike either quality. 

I advised her that I had an aversion to drama and wished her good luck in her search.