Today, the Black Hills of South Dakota and Wyoming are filled with the roar of big bikes of all types. Actually, the last week has seen a rapid increase in the number of bikers flowing into and through the Pahasapa (the old Lakota name for the Black Hills).
It is the 85th such rally, and events ending in 0 and 5 are big draws. Numbers of visitors and vendors and dollars are already up significantly over the last seven-eight years. Though the event was not cancelled (to the fear and horror of the nanny-staters) of 2020, numbers were down as people were brainwashed into fearing the Beer Flu. It will not be a surprise if a million or more people (and the same number of Harleys, Hondas, Indians, Triumphs and more) show up in 2025.
So what does this have to do with liberty, freedom, and the price of liberty?
A lot, actually. Not just the mystique of the biker, and the freedom of the open road, which really has only existed for a century, more or less. But with economics, and politics, and responsibility. And with how government interferes with it all.
First, let’s touch on the government and law enforcement. The above picture shows several of the many freshly-deputized sheriff’s officers in one of the eight Black Hills counties. Together with the police forces of more than a dozen cities and towns, and the Wyoming and South Dakota Highway Patrols, they are part of an immense police presence throughout the ten days of the Rally. Even compared with hundreds of thousands of bikers and other tourists, they are far more common than cops anywhere but the biggest, nastiest, most crime-ridden American cities.
They are certainly a vital and obvious part of the mix on the highways, byways, and streets of the Pahasapa. And the highways leading to and from the Hills. To some degree, their presence can be justified: people break down, they have accidents, there are injuries and sadly, fatalities. And there are always the idiots who drink and drive or drink and ride, and cause damage and harm to others. And the idiot drivers who outrageously break traffic laws that make sense.
But a big part of the “necessary” presence of truck, car, and bikes carrying cops and patrols on foot, usually in twos and threes (especially in Sturgis itself)? The war on some drugs and the presence of “outlaw biker gangs.” All the drugs are here, and generally pretty easy to find: tobacco, booze, pot, meth, coke, crack, and all the rest. Of course, vendors of those mostly don’t get licenses (well, except for tobacco and booze – maybe for “medical pot”), don’t pay sales taxes, and don’t plow very much of their revenues and profits into the local economy. So the cops act as enforcers to minimize the “loss of revenue” to local and State governments. And to enforce prohibition.
The biker gangs span the spectrum from Christian evangelist groups and clubs (still gangs!) made up of doctors, attorneys, or lawyers to the true outlaw tribes: the Banditos, the Pagans, and of course the Hell’s Angels and worse. While the Black Hills (especially during Rally) is supposedly neutral ground, there are still rumbles, still fist, knife, and gunfights now and then. And in some ways, the cops themselves are just another brotherhood of gangs.
The temporary law enforcers (for once, mostly indeed wearing jackboots or near that style, with leather and all the rest) are hired from across the nation, usually moonlighting from their regular LEO jobs. Take your pick if they are the “cream of the crop” or “scum floats to the top.” They are also here in the Hills for the riding, the concerts, the parties, and the girls (or guys). And sometimes on both sides of the law for the booze, the drugs, and other prohibited actions and merchandise.
It is a typical American mix, and that includes a huge melting pot of liberties and tyrannies. But even if the cops, most people – in the Hills as residents or as visitors – tend to think of it as more free than most parts of the States. Most welcome it, though some are terrified and vocal in their opposition to anything at all that goes on during the rally, from concerts to races to vast campgrounds and tents and bikes in front yards and on “their” streets.
But many residents and visitors in the Hills see the Rally as vitally important to the Hills and both South Dakota and Wyoming. The economic benefits of nearly a million people descending on an area with a permanent population of maybe 300,000 for a week each year are tremendous. And not just for the tax thieves of municipal, county, school, state, and federal governments.
Although our TPOL numbers are old, we were told that 500,000 Rally goers average 5 days in the Hills and spend 500 dollars a day on lodging, food, legal drugs, clothing, souvenirs, etc.: that is $1.2 billion dollars in a week to ten days. Much of that stays local and bounces around a few times. That means that the Rally is a major part of the Black Hills tourist industry: indeed, the major part. And comparable to what agriculture (ranching and farming), military spending, education, mining and timber/lumber, contribute. The effects are year-round: a motel or hotel that charges $400/night for two or four people during rally can be rented for under $100 the rest of the year: great for families visiting the same sites: Mount Rushmore, Deadwood, Wind Cave, Devil’s Tower, and so forth. And for hunters after elk, deer, pheasant, and anglers after trout and more. To be explicit: prosperity is just as much a legacy of liberty as peace and all the other benefits.
There are more reasons we tie the Black Hills Rally to liberty, to freedom, and the American dream. We may talk about those in the next commentary.
The Price of Liberty 
I doubt that it required any “brainwashing” for the demographic that attends Sturgis to be cautious concerning COVID.
Here in rural Florida, most of us tended to disregard the silliest of the COVID restrictions (enough so that, like Kristi Noem, Ron DeSantis realized we were laughing at his idiot authoritarianism and did a 180 from his initial Cuomo-type reaction). But I think I’m fairly normal in that, when there’s a bad flu going around in town, I sometimes decide to avoid large crowd type events. Getting sick is inconvenient. Even more so when your vehicle is a motorcycle.
I suspect the whole COVID incident played a significant role in me deciding to get a motorcycle. There were other reasons — my knees got too bad for a regular bicycle and my electric bicycle didn’t get the kind of range I wanted, so I decided to just get a real engine, etc. — but part of it was that feeling of freedom on the road that you don’t get with a car. Also, I waited until both my parents and both my brothers were dead so there wouldn’t be anyone worrying about me and constantly letting me KNOW they were worrying about me, and COVID was the death of one of them (my mother).
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Tom, thanks for the comments. You make lots of good points, and we are fascinated to find that the Pandemic Panic led to you going biker! It is a great point.
What you will find surprising (and surprized me as well), back in 2020 and 2021, the people that did NOT come to the Rally were more younger riders than older ones. In fact, several locals expressed great concern that the Rally was aging out. This perception seems to have faded starting in 2022 and especially this year – the 85th. Attendence records are up significantly over the last four years, not just from 2020 and 2021 but from earlier years. Several people I’ve talked to say it because the younger people bought into the hype and the fear. I know personally that back in 2020 and 2021, the people that pushed for more and more control were often quite young: 20s and 30s.
You are right that the perception is that bikers are getting much older and much fatter. But that really is more a stereotype. Yep, there are the old folks (one lady interviewed locally is 85 and like many older folks, hauled her bike to the Hills on a trailer behind a big crewcab pickup. But she was not fat: skinny old lady! But what we saw cruising the Hills this last 10 days included a lot of fit older guys and gals, and even more younger (20s-40s) who were also quite fit looking. Especially roaming the streets of Sturgis itself.
Traveling to the Hills does require going through a lot of areas, or even around them: several of the tribal nations here in South Dakot actually blocked off the highways that are fairly heavily traveled: US and SD highways. OST (which owns much of Badlands National Park) actually had armed guards at checkpoints on the highways. CRST told many residents (both enrolled and not enrolled) that if they traveled to Rapid City or Pierre or Sioux Falls, they would be put into quarantine in motels for 14 days before being allowed to go home. And we know several people to whom that happened. Unsure about back east, but at least in Colorado and New Mexico several counties and several tribal nations either blocked off highways or would allow people only to convoy across without stopping. Even denying snowbirds and other part-timers access to their own property. But those bikers who were worried about exposure when traveling could use pay-at-the-pump and use portapotties or rest area toilets, and minimize contact with others, at least until they got to the Hills. And some nearby States (Wyoming, western Nebraska at least) were almost as laid back as South Dakota. If Coloradans could get out of Colorado, they had clear roads on up. Same thing for Minnesota and Iowa, though tougher for people from Illinois or Wisconsin.
Fortunately, for once the South Dakota legislature laid down the law and kept Noem from going all hyper – much more quickly, I understand, than Florida’s legisgators did to DeSantis. Which of course gave the Tribes even more reason to hate her. Especially when the legislature also made it clear that Noem’s job and that of the executive branch, was to do things like keep the roads open and treat people like adults. The worst thing was the education sector, which bought the hype hook, line, and sinker.
Sorry it took so long to respond! Last week was a busy one, not just because of Rally.
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