Saturday, April 19, 2008
Oh the Stories I have to tell.
I was laying in bed last night and couldn't sleep and thinking about this blog and the sweatervest hill website. Now that I have started both of these a flood of memories have overflowed my head of the 11 times I have been to Sturgis. Each year has experiences to tell and the bizare things that happen. In Sturgis there is always a talel to tell so I will tell mine. My first experience of Sturgis was in 1991, (on the back of a 1958 rigid frame, suicide shift, panhead chopper over 1800 miles OUCH), 1994, 1995, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007. I'm excited to go back through all my pictures and recollect the thrills that took place. So look forward to the tales to come.
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I’ve seen many things from SweaterVest Hill, atop that massive summit known far and wide in the heart of the Buffalo Chip Campground. But this is one story I must tell, because as anyone who reads this should know we “Tell”. That is how “The Vest” came about, but that is another story only told on the “Hill” with a BAC -blood alcohol content of over .10.
So my Friends now I tell you of the story of the Ditch Bitch, I believe this was 2002 my second visit to the Chip. It was one of those special nights that happen from time to time at the Chip, when no holds are barred. The night’s concert was Steppenwolf, I can’t remember the others (remember, BAC -blood alcohol content) was high and the moon was full. Having seen all the bull riding I could take, burnout until the tires blew, I headed back to the tent for that few hours of coma sometimes know as sleep.
As I entered the darkness of the summit of the Hill, I hear this sound of what could have been wild pigs rooting for slop. Fearing for my life I find the flashlight in my tent to search the roaring creek bed that tumbles from the summit of SweaterVest Hill. But to my surprise there in the weeds, I set my light on two very white buns and two very much in the air heels, oh, young love in action, I went to bed just another night at the Chip.
The next morning, I awoke in the warm sun of the South Dakota morning, another day of the best time of my life at the Sturgis rally. Days of riding some of the best country in the world and nights of some of the best music, but on this morning I had a mission. Crawling out into the daylight, I made my way to the place of the encounter I had witness the night before to see what remained, because of the sounds I had fallen to sleep too, there had to be wounded. At the scene were one platform shoe, one pair of pink panties and one very flat bed of weeds.
Returning to the camp site others from around the camp site were starting to rise, I just had to relate story of the night’s action. I recounted the story in three part harmony believing this was just one of those passing things you see at the Chip. In the middle of my story (at this point names will be changed or omitted to protect the innocent) out of a tent of some very high members of the SweaterVest Hill gang, came this disheveled young woman that appeared to have had one hell of a night. The first thing I noticed was the platform shoe still on her foot. Knowing my voice would have been heard all over the camp site telling this story, I simply asked “are you missing a shoe?” “It’s over there” pointing to the area of the night’s before action, as this lady walked over to recover what seemed to be her property I just about pee’d my pants trying not to laugh. One after another, people came out of that tent, king fish, flamer, blackjack… and the excuses and claims of innocents and “I did nothing” started only to be drowned by the laughter of the people sit around the camp.
This poor lady without a shred of dignity gathered her things, and then the suspects escorted her away. On their return to the camp site the story was, the Ditch Bitch as we had started calling her had just wandered into their tent in the middle of the night and be good Samarians had let her crash in their tent. Oh just another day on the Hill.
Very well put! I have to laugh at this one for it is one of my favorite stories of Sweater Vest Hill at the Buffalo Chip Campground. Enforcer please tell more stories please, please, please?
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