All photos by Josh Kurpius

It was 10 a.m. and already too hot. Dust and the sound of uncorked V-Twins filled the air, and every decibel of spent combustion beat inside my head like a John Bonham drum solo. Surrounded by Harley-Davidsons covered from the grime of 1500 miles, trailers, and the empty Jack Daniels bottles of last night’s shenanigans, it finally hit me: this is what Sturgis is all about. Sturgis is a knock-down, drag out, low-down, and dirty good time. It’s as trashy, rock-and-roll, and loud as all the stereotypes suggest, but stereotypes don't matter when you’re having one helluva good time, and the experience is only heightened when you road trip out here. 4 days, 1500 miles, megatons of gasoline, and GoPro cameras recording every second; this is how you road trip on Harley-Davidsons.

Day One: Seattle as a Starting Block

Touching down in Seattle was the official start of the trip to Sturgis. Our trip began in earnest early the next morning. The fleet of new Harley-Davidsons sat in the morning fog waiting to fire up and wake up every single person that was still sleeping. Every bike was represented, from Sportsters and Softails and everything in between. I chose the Harley-Davidson Forty-Eight for the first day of riding – a 1200cc Sportster slathered in yellow and black like a pissed-off wasp. Clad with chunky tires and a bobbed rear fender, it sat like a bulldog in the early morning sunlight. The goal for the day: cover 815 miles and arrive in Lewiston, ID. All that stood between us was miles of twisting highway and Mt. Rainer National Park.

Quickly, I learned that this was going to be no doddering ride. Riding with some of the best extreme athletes in the world – people who see broken bones as a minor inconvenience – the pace would be swift regardless of the road ahead. And what lay ahead? Only miles of forest, mountain vistas, drop-offs that were comically high, and gravel in construction zones located right near those drop-offs. Every corner was a new, breathtaking view. After awhile, the sensory overload causes you to not be impressed. Oh, another mountain seemingly punching the clouds. Oh, how nice, another raging river crossing through picturesque forest landscape. And as gorgeous as it was, Mt. Rainer Park was soon behind us, the Forty-Eight taking every corner much better than I thought it could, and happily thumping along hundreds of miles.

The first day would end as we crossed into Lewiston, ID. The road in was also picturesque and gorgeous. Slowly rolling hills, the sun setting on our backs, and throttling the Harley’s through, it was a day of excellent riding. Not perfect, though, as a glaring flaw of the Forty-eight would shine through: suspension travel. On the rear, you pay for that low and lean look by sacrificing damping and travel in the suspension, and your back takes the lumps for it. It wasn’t nearly enough to dampen the spirits of the day though.

Day Two: On to Montana

Another day, another early morning rise, and miles of asphalt ahead of us. This time, though, I chose the Harley-Davidson Night Rod as my ride for the day. You may remember the Night Rod from our previous story when Bullz-Eye rode it at Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and its sibling the V-Rod Muscle on a trip in Miami. For those who don’t, the Night Rod is Harley-Davidson’s cruise missile. It’s the most powerful Harley-Davidson available, and our example was, as you can probably guess from the name, black as night. Smooth and powerful, it eats highway and miles effortlessly without any fuss. Another national park, more highway miles, and more of the absolutely most healthy road food in the world, and the day flew right by. 800 miles in, our trip to Sturgis was at the halfway point.

Day Three: Elk, Bears and Tourists

Day Three for me and the motley band of athletes would cover the least amount of miles, but lead us through Yellowstone to do it. The good was the fact that Yellowstone National Park is a mile of untamed wilderness, geysers,and bears. Mostly bears. Miles and miles of bears. It is also full of tourists, so the group’s hope to cruise right through was quickly dashed when we were stuck behind lines of tourists looking at “wilderness.” Yes, you should stop and smell the roses and take pictures of elk for your Facebook feed, but not every time.

Then, bison decided they didn’t want us to pass either. Bison, if you are not aware, do not give two shits about anything. Ambivalent to passing cars, RV’s and motorcycles. They will squat anywhere, at anytime, and sit there. At one point, the bison decided that the front of our group was a great place to take a break. Bison are also huge, and aggressive if you pass them, so with this in mind, we waited until they decided to move. Noticing that we were heating up as the bikes idled beneath our legs, the bison moved only slightly to let us pass. How polite of them.

The capstone of the day more than made up for the slog through Yellowstone with a pass through Beartooth Hwy. I didn’t see any real bears in Yellowstone, but this highway sufficed. A true “bucket list road,” it's a highway on top of a mountain crossing between two states with intimidating switchbacks, barely any runoff, and the terrain that constantly taunts the limits of your courage. For this pass, I was back on the Forty-Eight, and completely content even though I was not on the latest sportbike. The Forty-Eight exemplifies fun over fast. And on a road like this, fast will send you toppling over a mountain, while fun will bring a smile to your face. Next stop: Sturgis.

Day Four: Sturgis or Bust

Our last day on the road was a hammer down day. Miles and miles of straight highway to get through, and only one way to get through it: full throttle. Going down the highway like this is a lot like time travel. You’re not doing much, but going through space. On a bike meant for touring, the ride is boring, but comfy. But I was not on a touring bike. For this day, I was on a Harley-Davidson 72. Part of the Sportster family like the Forty-Eight, the 72 trades yellow paint for a metallic-flake crimson, and black for Chrome. Additionally, it has mini-ape hanger handlebars, whitewall tires and super skinny front tire. It’s a chromed-out, badass bike for cruising around town, but this isn’t puttering around town, it’s going a “respectable” clip down the highway. But, discomfort aside, we made it to Sturgis.

What a difference a change of scenery makes for the 72. Uncomfortable on the highway, you become a star on the boardwalk. Waltzing in to a sea of black, the flaked, chromed 72 is a middle finger to seriousness. And Sturgis is serious business. As you approach the town, the density of bikes increases until you’re swimming in schools of much too loud Harley-Davidsons. We have arrived at the ultimate bike rally. But we wouldn’t be staying in Sturgis itself, but rather camping slightly past the city at the Buffalo Chip.

Dusty and full of noise, the Buffalo Chip is like Woodstock; just replace the hippies with Harleys. 15 minutes into the camp ground and I hadn’t seen one pair of sleeves and overheard conversations that would make Rush Limbaugh blush. It’s a non-stop party sprinkled with all the trappings of a country music concert, fused with a NASCAR race, and then spread over miles and miles of American soil.

Surviving Sturgis

For as much as attendees put on the air of rebellion, there’s serious money there. Don’t worry – there are plenty of people who you’ve probably seen on “Cops,” but many there are attending with huge trailers, decked out trucks and multiple bikes. And everybody is here to party. Ziplining, guns, beer, and plenty of music (Journey, Boston and Eric Church all played while we were there), it’s a Blue Collar Comedy Tour theme park. Embrace it, and you’ll have the time of your life and a pounding hangover.

Sturgis is both a hopelessly nostalgic trip down memory lane for the boomers that attend, but also a rollicking good time for a younger generation. It’s the tradition of the road trip passed down to a younger generation – the urge to just pack up and ride to the biggest two-wheeled party on earth, but with a modern twist. With Go-Pro cameras, iPhones and a Wi-Fi connection, road trips are much more fun when you can share them with those that don’t attend.

So, why should you take a Harley-Davidson? You can take a road trip on any bike, but a Harley-Davidson is the official bike of Sturgis, and an American Original. The heat and vibrations all tax your body, but you arrive feeling like you’ve accomplished something. Not to mention, Harley-Davidson has a variety of true touring bikes, such as the Road King, that are perfect for long highway trips. But even a Sportster, with its tiny gas tank and minimal suspension travel, is capable of taking across the country. The question isn’t “Can the bike handle the trip?” but “Can you?”

All photos by Josh Kurpius

It was 10 a.m. and already too hot. Dust and the sound of uncorked V-Twins filled the air, and every decibel of spent combustion beat inside my head like a John Bonham drum solo. Surrounded by Harley-Davidsons covered from the grime of 1500 miles, trailers, and the empty Jack Daniels bottles of last night’s shenanigans, it finally hit me: this is what Sturgis is all about. Sturgis is a knock-down, drag out, low-down, and dirty good time. It’s as trashy, rock-and-roll, and loud as all the stereotypes suggest, but stereotypes don’t matter when you’re having one helluva good time, and the experience is only heightened when you road trip out here. 4 days, 1500 miles, megatons of gasoline, and GoPro cameras recording every second; this is how you road trip on Harley-Davidsons.

Day One: Seattle as a Starting Block

Touching down in Seattle was the official start of the trip to Sturgis. Our trip began in earnest early the next morning. The fleet of new Harley-Davidsons sat in the morning fog waiting to fire up and wake up every single person that was still sleeping. Every bike was represented, from Sportsters and Softails and everything in between. I chose the Harley-Davidson Forty-Eight for the first day of riding – a 1200cc Sportster slathered in yellow and black like a pissed-off wasp. Clad with chunky tires and a bobbed rear fender, it sat like a bulldog in the early morning sunlight. The goal for the day: cover 815 miles and arrive in Lewiston, ID. All that stood between us was miles of twisting highway and Mt. Rainer National Park.

Quickly, I learned that this was going to be no doddering ride. Riding with some of the best extreme athletes in the world – people who see broken bones as a minor inconvenience – the pace would be swift regardless of the road ahead. And what lay ahead? Only miles of forest, mountain vistas, drop-offs that were comically high, and gravel in construction zones located right near those drop-offs. Every corner was a new, breathtaking view. After awhile, the sensory overload causes you to not be impressed. Oh, another mountain seemingly punching the clouds. Oh, how nice, another raging river crossing through picturesque forest landscape. And as gorgeous as it was, Mt. Rainer Park was soon behind us, the Forty-Eight taking every corner much better than I thought it could, and happily thumping along hundreds of miles.

The first day would end as we crossed into Lewiston, ID. The road in was also picturesque and gorgeous. Slowly rolling hills, the sun setting on our backs, and throttling the Harley’s through, it was a day of excellent riding. Not perfect, though, as a glaring flaw of the Forty-eight would shine through: suspension travel. On the rear, you pay for that low and lean look by sacrificing damping and travel in the suspension, and your back takes the lumps for it. It wasn’t nearly enough to dampen the spirits of the day though.

Day Two: On to Montana

Another day, another early morning rise, and miles of asphalt ahead of us. This time, though, I chose the Harley-Davidson Night Rod as my ride for the day. You may remember the Night Rod from our previous story when Bullz-Eye rode it at Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and its sibling the V-Rod Muscle on a trip in Miami. For those who don’t, the Night Rod is Harley-Davidson’s cruise missile. It’s the most powerful Harley-Davidson available, and our example was, as you can probably guess from the name, black as night. Smooth and powerful, it eats highway and miles effortlessly without any fuss. Another national park, more highway miles, and more of the absolutely most healthy road food in the world, and the day flew right by. 800 miles in, our trip to Sturgis was at the halfway point.

Day Three: Elk, Bears and Tourists

Day Three for me and the motley band of athletes would cover the least amount of miles, but lead us through Yellowstone to do it. The good was the fact that Yellowstone National Park is a mile of untamed wilderness, geysers,and bears. Mostly bears. Miles and miles of bears. It is also full of tourists, so the group’s hope to cruise right through was quickly dashed when we were stuck behind lines of tourists looking at “wilderness.” Yes, you should stop and smell the roses and take pictures of elk for your Facebook feed, but not every time.

Then, bison decided they didn’t want us to pass either. Bison, if you are not aware, do not give two shits about anything. Ambivalent to passing cars, RV’s and motorcycles. They will squat anywhere, at anytime, and sit there. At one point, the bison decided that the front of our group was a great place to take a break. Bison are also huge, and aggressive if you pass them, so with this in mind, we waited until they decided to move. Noticing that we were heating up as the bikes idled beneath our legs, the bison moved only slightly to let us pass. How polite of them.

The capstone of the day more than made up for the slog through Yellowstone with a pass through Beartooth Hwy. I didn’t see any real bears in Yellowstone, but this highway sufficed. A true “bucket list road,” it’s a highway on top of a mountain crossing between two states with intimidating switchbacks, barely any runoff, and the terrain that constantly taunts the limits of your courage. For this pass, I was back on the Forty-Eight, and completely content even though I was not on the latest sportbike. The Forty-Eight exemplifies fun over fast. And on a road like this, fast will send you toppling over a mountain, while fun will bring a smile to your face. Next stop: Sturgis.

Day Four: Sturgis or Bust

Our last day on the road was a hammer down day. Miles and miles of straight highway to get through, and only one way to get through it: full throttle. Going down the highway like this is a lot like time travel. You’re not doing much, but going through space. On a bike meant for touring, the ride is boring, but comfy. But I was not on a touring bike. For this day, I was on a Harley-Davidson 72. Part of the Sportster family like the Forty-Eight, the 72 trades yellow paint for a metallic-flake crimson, and black for Chrome. Additionally, it has mini-ape hanger handlebars, whitewall tires and super skinny front tire. It’s a chromed-out, badass bike for cruising around town, but this isn’t puttering around town, it’s going a “respectable” clip down the highway. But, discomfort aside, we made it to Sturgis.

What a difference a change of scenery makes for the 72. Uncomfortable on the highway, you become a star on the boardwalk. Waltzing in to a sea of black, the flaked, chromed 72 is a middle finger to seriousness. And Sturgis is serious business. As you approach the town, the density of bikes increases until you’re swimming in schools of much too loud Harley-Davidsons. We have arrived at the ultimate bike rally. But we wouldn’t be staying in Sturgis itself, but rather camping slightly past the city at the Buffalo Chip.

Dusty and full of noise, the Buffalo Chip is like Woodstock; just replace the hippies with Harleys. 15 minutes into the camp ground and I hadn’t seen one pair of sleeves and overheard conversations that would make Rush Limbaugh blush. It’s a non-stop party sprinkled with all the trappings of a country music concert, fused with a NASCAR race, and then spread over miles and miles of American soil.

Surviving Sturgis

For as much as attendees put on the air of rebellion, there’s serious money there. Don’t worry – there are plenty of people who you’ve probably seen on “Cops,” but many there are attending with huge trailers, decked out trucks and multiple bikes. And everybody is here to party. Ziplining, guns, beer, and plenty of music (Journey, Boston and Eric Church all played while we were there), it’s a Blue Collar Comedy Tour theme park. Embrace it, and you’ll have the time of your life and a pounding hangover.

Sturgis is both a hopelessly nostalgic trip down memory lane for the boomers that attend, but also a rollicking good time for a younger generation. It’s the tradition of the road trip passed down to a younger generation – the urge to just pack up and ride to the biggest two-wheeled party on earth, but with a modern twist. With Go-Pro cameras, iPhones and a Wi-Fi connection, road trips are much more fun when you can share them with those that don’t attend.

So, why should you take a Harley-Davidson? You can take a road trip on any bike, but a Harley-Davidson is the official bike of Sturgis, and an American Original. The heat and vibrations all tax your body, but you arrive feeling like you’ve accomplished something. Not to mention, Harley-Davidson has a variety of true touring bikes, such as the Road King, that are perfect for long highway trips. But even a Sportster, with its tiny gas tank and minimal suspension travel, is capable of taking across the country. The question isn’t “Can the bike handle the trip?” but “Can you?”

In today’s market, speed rules the conversation. Superbikes, supercars, super(blank) are the center of attention. All marketing materials talk about is going faster and harder. Horsepower, lap times, and what minute difference is going to give one bike an edge is seemingly all we talk about with motorcycles, and what the public sees of us. But beyond the power, speed and fury that few people will use on the street, there is a whole type of riding that goes unnoticed: the road trip.

There used to be a valued segment of the marketplace for “grand tourers.” For cars, these were old Jaguars XK’s and graceful Aston Martins; machines that were built to effortlessly travel long distances with power and grace. As such, they were tuned to deliver a ride that would not rattle every bone in your body to dust. For motorcycles, it has always been the cruiser: Big, bold machines with slow turning engines that produce more torque than power. Many manufactures make bikes built for this segment, but only one has built their reputation on cruisers: Harley-Davidson. On our recent trip to Miami with Harley-Davidson, I discovered the experience of a road trip on a trip from Miami to Key West, and back, in one day.

The U.S. is built for road trips. Our roads are long and flat. Our country is big and wide. Culturally, we have always felt a need to push towards the frontier, and the road trip satisfies that need. It must then be easier to ride long distances than attacking a road course with Red Bull-aided fury since you really are riding in a straight line. But that’s not the case. The experience of a cruise is less technical precision than it is adapting to the little things that get in your way. This is where the difficulty lies.

Take the road itself. Not much attention is paid to it in a car because you don’t feel the differences in the pavement unless you’re in a sports car. On a bike, you feel the difference between where the road has been patched, the seams in the road, gravel, and how it may dip or rise in certain areas, and this all effects how the bike handles. The relationship is much more intense because it changes the way the bike moves.

For this reason, a cruiser is better over a sport bike. Sport bikes are built for maximum road feel so they are affected more by changes in surface. That means they are more jittery and sensitive. A cruiser, on the other hand, is heavier and with a lower center of gravity. As opposed to a sport bike, a cruiser plods along more confidently. This means you spend less time correcting the bikes path and more time enjoying the ride.

But just because you have a cruiser doesn’t mean that road a trip is a time to tune out and stop paying attention. Another small detail that becomes important on a trip is the wind. Again, not something you notice in a car, but a major factor on a bike with no wind protection. It is continually beating you down. Also, there are crosswinds that hit you after traffic passes that you must anticipate and adjust for. The result of just these two small variables is an experience that wears you down over time, rather than in large bursts if pushing the limit on the track. You notice this pain and exhaustion after you sit down at your destination and a day’s worth of effort starts to seep into your muscles.

You might be wondering, how is this supposed to be fun in the slightest? But the pain is part of the fun. Anyone can drive long distances in a car, but it takes a real effort and certain personality type to do it on a bike. This makes it more of an accomplishment. Also, as opposed to blitzing across long distances in a car, you stop in increments along the journey on a bike, adding to the story. You also interact with the machine you are on and the riders you are with. Not from a conversation standpoint, but an unspoken relationship where you begin to trust your group and bike more because of the time you put in together on a trip.

And there is no better feeling than that one moment of nirvana. For me, it was cruising back from the Keys back to Miami. The sun was setting, I was comfortable on the bike, and the temperature had cooled down. At that moment, cruising made sense to me. It is a moment where you feel completely insignificant as you look out over the horizon and notice just how small you are. But you also feel empowered, and yes, a little bit badass.

When it comes to cruising, a Harley is built for this experience. Not from a mere technical standpoint, but an emotional one. The look, sound and feel I was talking about in my first article transfers to how you ride the bike on the road. The way the motor reacts to more throttle, the way the brakes feel, and the way the suspension is tuned makes more sense on the open road in a Harley than it does around town. The sensitivity that is not there around town helps you on long journeys. They provide more wiggle room to be more forgiving of mistakes and more comfortable to use over long distances.

At the end of a cruise you have a story, not just a lap time, and that’s why you should try a road trip no matter what bike you ride. But of course, it doesn’t hurt to make that bike a Harley.