Motorcycle camping

How do you overnight when touring by motorcycle?

Traditional motorcycle camping is an honored and cherished tradition, at least for bikers who entered the two-wheeled world a couple decades ago. Today, if you are up for it, motorcycle camping connects us with the men and women who traveled the U.S. on two wheels many decades ago heading to this vacation spot, or that rally. If you’re up for it. It can be fairly primitive. It doesn’t seem as though motorcycle camping is what it once was. There are too many motorhomes pulling motorcycle trailers, or a few motorcycles pulling little campers. To me, motorcycle camping is at most a tent and a few supplies bungieed on to the back of my bike.

I have found that backpacking equipment makes good motorcycle camping equipment. It’s lightweight, compact and durable. So I can pack enough for a week’s stay on my bike, including even a camp stool, cooler, sleeping bag pad, sleeping bag, tent, camp lights, even a one-burner stove.
I recognize that not everyone likes to camp, but it’s probably the most economical way to experience a rally. It allows you to immerse yourself in to the event. Two good examples of motorcycle camping are the Freedom Rally in Iowa and the Sturgis Rally in South Dakota.
The Freedom Rally in Algona, Iowa is my favorite rally. It’s as traditional and focused as any rally you can find. The entire area is owned by ABATE of Iowa. It’s fenced off so that you can access the campground only by motorcycle. Motorhomes and travel trailers are parked down the road at another site. The campground is clean and cool. Big cottonwoods give plenty of shade if you choose that relatively secluded area. Or if you like, you can set up in a sort of “tent city” where the partying never stops. That's the way it is at the Bottom's Up Rally in Marmath, ND.
Similarly there are “motorcycle only” camp sites at the Sturgis Rally. For example, Glencoe has an area where only motorcycles can squeeze through the narrow openings. Pick a spot, park your bike and call it “home” for as long as you wish during the rally.
The benefits of camping like that are obvious: you avoid the astronomical high prices of motels during the rally. One motel in Sturgis where I stay before Memorial Day or after Labor Day prices its rooms between $50 and $80. But during the rally, they are $250 or more. Camping during the rally is as low as $12, but generally in that $30 to $40 range.
Other benefits include the camaraderie of fellow campers, and the immersion in to the motorcycle lifestyle.
The disadvantage is of course you are exposed to the weather as it is – hot, cold or rainy. I’ve climbed in to my tent after a wet day of riding, and there’s no warming up by the furnace or fireplace.
It’s also a bit more work to camp. It’s up to you to pack and unpack as you move. No ready-made beds are available. Showering is a challenge, but usually most campgrounds have a community shower that is just fine with me.
Motorcycle camping is part of the motorcycle experience. If you wanted to travel in luxury, you could have traded in your bike for a pull behind trailer and you drive the country in your car. Or you can just motel hop your way across the country, leaving the confines of your cage for the continued confines of a motel room.
Me? I like the exposure and freedom of motorcycling – and that includes motorcycle camping.

ABATE -- a biker’s network

These days, there’s plenty of talk about “networking.” Websites and social networking sites such as Facebook, MySpace and LinkedIn are all doing it. But they have nothing over the biker network created by ABATE.

I took a trip the other day down to southwestern North Dakota showed me an advantage of the network formed by ABATE. ABATE is an organization promoting and enhancing motorcycle rider safety and motorcycle rider’s rights. The “B” in ABATE stands for “brotherhood” -- at least as some acronyms spell it out. The brotherhood was fully functioning in Dickinson.

I had every intention of staying home that weekend of the Bottoms Up rally. I had too much work to do. But Red prevailed upon me to take a late season rider to Dickinson and beyond.

We got a late start, and the ride got even later, into the darkness. So, we stopped in Dickinson, at one of those Ma and Pa motels I’m so fond of.

After checking in to the motel, we came back out to unload our bikes, and head downtown. I saw that pool of oil under her FXSTN (Softail Deluxe) but thought nothing of it. We rode to the watering hole owned by a huge ABATE supporter, Bernie Marsh, the Esquire Club. Get that? He’s a part of the ABATE network?

Red backed her bike in to the curb between two other bikes, but it was too tight a fit. So, she pulled out, whipped a u-turn and parked on the other side of the street. It was easy to see the move. It was marked by a trail of oil from her first spot, to her u-turn to the second spot.

I lay on my back next to her bike, trying to trace the potential source of this oil leak. I ruled out the filter, the drain plug and the transmission. There was no sign of oil on the block. It was all from the primary.

Inside the Esquire, I flagged Bernie. He was tending bar and was busier than a bat in a swarm of mosquitoes. I asked him if there were any bike mechanics he knew of in town. He disappeared and came back with the card for a new business in town, Patriot Custom Cycles.

The next morning we headed out to the Patriot shop and me the owner Wes Annable. Wes is another ABATE member and supporter. He’s retired military, had been in Minot, but moved to Dickinson for the weather (yeah I know, I wrinkled my brow on that one, too) and for his family. Dickinson is blessed to have him. He Wes started up this shop in Dickinson, and bikers will do well to trust him with their rides. He sure did us good! His diagnosis of the leak was the same as mine, and in minutes he had the Deluxe up on the hoist. After he got in to it, he saw it was worse than we had thought originally. A short conference and he was ready to dive in to the work.

While Wes was at work, we headed back to the other side of Dickinson on my bike, stopping again at our friendly neighborhood Prairie Rose café – the same one I wrote about in an earlier blog. I’d gone down there earlier in the morning, just in time to shoot the early morning light on the hunters and ranchers stopping in this landmark café.

Later that morning, after a good cuppa jo, we headed back to Patriot Custom. Wes had the bike done, and it was in better condition than we expected.

First, Bernie’s good counsel to hook up with Wes, and then the work Wes did. It’s one of those intangibles that come with belonging to a group such as ABATE -- networking. It’s worth it.

What is Cooke City, Montana without the tourists?

It’s a peaceful friendly little town.

If the weather allows, I’m vacationing when you are home for the season, and vice versa. When you’re on vacation, I’m home. You see, some of my best trips are before Memorial Day and after Labor Day – those two holidays mark the “official” tourist season.

This year, as in previous years, Yellowstone was calling. It took two days to get there. Day 1 was to Red Lodge, and Day two was to Cooke City, Montana. Day 3 was the big park.

Cooke City, Montana—the last incorporated city before the northeast entrance to Yellowstone, about 4 miles down the road. Normally Cooke City is a tourist jump off, but once the tourist season is over, it returns to its normal personality. The first night there was just after it had rained, and the streets were wet. Bikers were still exiting the park and stopping in town for fuel and to get on more wet weather gear.

They moved on without getting to know a few of the locals. Their loss. Because if you visit Cooke City after tourist season, you’re likely to meet friendly young folk at the Miners Saloon, or at the coffee shop, or at the Beartooth Café.

Nights are like any other small town until the full moon glides up over the mountains, and the city’s lights take on a ghostly glow. I had no idea what that glow was over the mountain until it made it’s full appearance.

I had only my monopod with me; a tripod would have been better. So I gripped it against the post on a covered porch, took a deep breath and eased the shutter open – then held my breath for 15 to 22 seconds for the camera to soak in all the light needed to record the images you see here.

I like shooting at night with cooperative natural light such as the moon and the city glow. You’ll find more photos like these over at http://mykuhlsphotography.com and soon, even more from the German band at Red Lodge!

What is a pigtail bridge – and why do Sturgis rally goers ride them?

No, they are not some contraption that connects one hawg to another. But hawg riders have used them for about as long as there has been a Sturgis Motorcycle rally. They are wooden bridges that wind under or over themselves to give traffic a gentle slope on the steep inclines of the Black Hills. You’ll find several on highway 16a directly south of Mount Rushmore and the town of Keystone.

Pigtail bridges are one of the attractions on Iron Mountain Road, a favorite ride of bikers. Its twists, turns, tunnels and pigtail bridges are unequaled anywhere in the U.S. A few years ago, I rode the Black Hills with a group of bikers I met on a large bridge project in North Dakota. We rode down to the Hills, and to Iron Mountain Road. They had to stop to inspect these engineering wonders.

The rustic log work is impressive. When riders take a moment to pull over and read nearby signs, they will learn the logs were cut from stands nearby, shaped, treated and put in place about 80 years ago. The piling, the piers, the pier caps, the deck supports and the deck railing are all treated wood cut from just a few yards away.

They were designed and engineered in 1932 by Cecil Clyde Gideon who was the superintendent of Custer State Park. (That’s the park at the south end of Iron Mountain road where bison and other wildlife thrive. You’ll see photos here of Custer and the bison in my blog archive and on mykuhlsphotography.com.)

Gideon called the bridges “spiral-jump offs”. His goal in designing the bridges was to preserve the natural beauty while building a scenic highway on Iron Mountain. The corkscrew design is eye-catching, and every rider ought to stop at least once to check them out. I mean, after all, they have to slow down anyway to traverse the tight turns. I recommend checking out this impressive design that blends engineering into modern traffic – a kind of early contest sensitive design.

If you get the chance to ride Iron Mountain Road and experience the corkscrew twist of a pigtail bridge – stop! Get off the road a bit, get off your bike, and look at how they are put together. And if you’re really brave and physically fit, take a climb up the nearby rocks to see how the road and bridge wraps around – a simple fix to a complex problem.

Patriot Guard Rally –a red, white and blue day.

ND Patriot Guard state rally

When the Patriot Guard Riders rallied the other day, flags, veterans and bikers were stirred together in a large batch of patriotic spirit -- stirred to the point of tears. When is the last time you saw a burly biker, a seasoned veteran, or a weathered cowboy drop a tear of appreciation? That kind of normally-hidden emotion was revealed as America and its fighting men and women were honored at the rally.

Neither politics nor partisanship were part of the day, just a deep sense of appreciation for America and the men and women who have stood to fight and even die for America. The rally honored three fallen soldiers, PFC Sheldon Hawk Eagle, Major Allan Johnson and Sgt Thomas Sweet II. Recognition and respect extended to with all the veterans who have died, and also those veterans in the room.

One of the more touching moments came when the soldiers from America’s last major conflict, Viet Nam were asked to stand. They were the ones who were not so well received when they returned home from serving America many decades ago. As they stood, the rest of us were encouraged to go to them and merely shake their hands and say, “Welcome home.” Not that simple. There were hugs, and yes, tears as these forgotten warriors were thanked for their sacrifices – some 40 years late.

(It’s at this point in this writing that I perhaps need to explain a bit about the Patriot Guard Riders. If you are already a member, or know about the PGR, then you can skip these next couple of paragraphs.

Of all the groups to which I currently belong, or have in the past, the Patriot Guard Riders is the one of which I’m most proud. It’s an eclectic group. “Eclectic” meaning “assorted, diverse and free” which pretty well describes the PGR. The members of the PGR are for the most part, blue collar, hardworking men and women. They range in age from their young 20’s to 70-some. Firemen, policemen, carpenters, day-care providers, mechanics, and others like them belong to the PGR. Maybe you have seen them at airports. They are the ones who take off time from their labors to

stand shoulder to shoulder, silently holding large flags to welcome home

returning soldiers, to say good bye to deployed soldiers or to provide funeral escort to those who have died.

Funerals – that’s where PGR has it roots. No, it’s not macabre – it’s amazing. You see, there was an evil, malicious group of people who were traveling about the country cheering for the deaths of soldiers who had died in Iraq and Afghanistan. They would equate the deaths of these men and women with God’s punishment of America. Without a hint of mercy, grace or compassion, these protesters added to the grief and pain of families with their behavior.

With the same constitutional right to assemble as the protesters' right to free speech, PGR members would line up, shoulder to shoulder, backs to the protesters, facing the funeral party. Silent. Bearing flags. Shielding the mourners from the protesters. They were there, only by invitation, responding to a family’s request for protection from the ugliness of the protesters. There were no confrontations, just a silent human shield, protecting mourners while at the same time showing silent patriotic respect to the fallen. Protesters would only see the back patches of the bikers and the mourners would only see the quiet respect and flags of this protective barrier of black leather patriots.)

These patriots from across the state rallied in Dickinson, North Dakota. Usually it is these people who are showing appreciation and respect for the men and women in uniform. However, at the rally, it was the PGR who received the appreciation. North Dakota National Guard Major General David Spryznczynatyk wandered through the crowd shaking hands and thanking the PGR. From the stage, he was joined by North Dakota Attorney General Wayne Stenehjem honoring the veterans, active duty personnel and the citizen members of the North Dakota Patriot Guard Riders.

After the program, riders cranked up the 100+ bikes in the parking lot with a ride through southwest North Dakota. This time, they were on the receiving end of patriotic displays. In Belfield, a flag line of the American Legion welcomed riders coming in on Highway 83. In Regent, flags and signs lined the streets to welcome the PGR.

The Patriot Guard Riders is that patch of blue sky on a rainy overcast day.

The Patriot Guard Riders is a whiff of morning’s fresh air.

The Patriot Guard Riders is that soft pillow after a hard day.

The Patriot Guard Riders is an unapologetic expression of appreciation and love for America and the men and women who protect our freedoms.

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Crosby old truck collection

Sometimes, spontaneity is the best incentive for creativity. It's freeing and limitless (well, almost).

Take a recent Saturday afternoon trip to Minot to get to the credit union before it closed. It was a gorgeous afternoon -- well kinda. It was chilly, upper 60's but sunny. That's good enough for a cruise and snooze.

Red and I headed northwest from Minot, up the scenic drive of Highway 52, up the Des Lacs river. It's a wide river valley floor with soft hills on either side. Apparently the the railroad company of a century ago decided to follow the long easy valley. So, our ride on Highway 52 was parallel to both the river and the railroad.

It's because of the railroad that the valley is dotted with small towns. Some are only a shadow of what they once were. Others have a few signs of life. Red reminded me that some of the small town cops along Highway 52 are tough on speeding tourists. So, we slowed down for each an every town. A good recommendation, wouldn't you say?

We stopped for coffee and fuel at Kenmare. You don't find many surprises at those cookie cutter Cenex Convenience stores. The front has coffee and a couple of booths to sit in. Behind the counter are the smokes and the chew. Way to the back is generally the hardware or farmer items. In between the smokes and the hardware is the food -- convenient, and priced accordingly. High.

It's getting late in the day. Sunlight in the northern edge of the lower 48 states lasts a long time in June. We jumped up to Highway 5, still cruising west, barely 15 miles from the Canadian border. And though the sunlight was long, it was not warm. So, we stopped a couple times along the road to add more warm layers.

I recommend that any time you head out on a cruise and snooze, you bring a full compliment of hot and cold clothes. That means lightweight layers such as t-shirts, all the way up to short sleeve button up shirt, long sleeve t-shirt, long sleeve button up shirt, vest, hooded sweatshirt, leather coat and rain gear.

We stopped near Columbus, along the side of the road to add more layers. It was really getting colder and colder. We didn't need the rain gear, but we added all the other layers. The fellows I used to ride with from Lake Charles, Louisiana and Beaumont, Texas back in 2004 showed me an essential trick for keeping body warmth where it's supposed to be. The included a crotch rag that they tucked in their belt, draped over their crotch and tucked under their thighs to keep warm.

With our layers, our crotch rags and even face masks, Red and I pulled in to Crosby, North Dakota. (Did you know that Crosby has the longest daylight hours on June 21 of any city in the lower 48? Sunrise is 5:30 and sunset is after 10:00. The long slow dusk blends seamlessly to the early glow of dawn. As one disappears in the west, the other is starting in the east.)

Crosby isn't very big, but it is prosperous. Oil. The Bakken oil play fuels not only petroleum needs in the U.S., but also the local economy. Crosby is doing well. Well enough to afford a good motel, we figured.

We were wrong. The motel left a lot to be desired. But it was cheap. $50 for the night for the two of us. I suppose you don't need a fancy motel if all the clients are oil field workers who just need a warm bed and hot shower. It suited us, but I'd recommend you move on if you're looking for a "nice" place to stay.

The payoff was what we found riding around town, looking for the motel. It's a mortuary or mausoleum of old dead steamers, tractors and trucks. Dozens and dozens of oxidized implements, the heavy equipment of another life 80 or 100 years ago.

The next morning, when warmer weather (55 degrees or so) began to encourage us to hit the road, we paused long enough at the collection of ancient equipment.

Someone had the decency to give these retired iron work horses a presentable lineup. On display, lined up, and framed by green grass and yellow dandelions, the old trucks reminded me of a cluster of old ranchers huddled up, reminiscing about the "good old days." I hauled out my camera and tripod and tried several different exposures. A fill light would have washed out the dark secrets of the oxidized equipment, so I let the darkness blend with the desaturated paint jobs of the old machines.

Free to travel, free to head out in any direction we wanted, we stumbled on these posed models, an opportunity we'd never had if we were bound by limits. But because we spontaneously took the long way home from Minot, we were given the chance to mingle among and photograph some of North Dakota's history.
(Recommendation: If you have a romantic sense of history, you'll find it tickled in the sparsely settled sections of western North Dakota. People are friendly, helpful and non-threatening. They'll talk about most anything. Spring and fall are great times for photographers to tour western North Dakota. Spring displays more shades of green than you knew existed. Fall is a busy time of year, the golden harvest and brilliant sunsets are worth the drive to western North Dakota. Hotels are inexpensive -- less than $50/ a night for a ma and pa motel.)

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