Day 7 -- Gillette, WY To Sturgis, SD
August 10, 2005
 

Gillette is about 110 miles from Sturgis, but was already overrun with motorcycles by the time we were on the road. We were amazed at the number of motorcycles we saw on our way to Sturgis. They reminded us of swarms of locusts, or crickets, as they were moving in all directions, on all roadways, gathered in surprising numbers at all intersections, gas stations, eating establishments, and, of course, drinking establishments. We figured we saw in the thousands before coming close to Sturgis. We were afraid there would be no more bikes in Sturgis by the time we got there! But we were not to be disappointed.

Exiting the freeway was a slow process, as was working our way through the main street of Sturgis. Both sides of the two main streets were lined with vendors. There were many custom bike builders there, as well as anything motorcycle being offered. The main attraction to us was the crowd itself -- all the motorcycles from every manufacture, and their riders. It was warm there in Sturgis, but the temperature on those two main streets must have been 15 degrees hotter from the heat of all the idling engines. We didn't buy much from the vendors there, but we couldn't resist the polish sausage and onions. We had worked up a healthy appetite.

The motorcycle rally in Sturgis has been held for 65 years and has turned into quite an event. Tourists from all over come to see the sights and action, even if they don't ride. The communities surrounding Sturgis for hundreds of miles see an economic boom from this week in August. There are events scheduled everyday and evening in Sturgis, but much of the attraction of bike week is the area surrounding Sturgis. Riders may stay in Sturgis, even if it is in tents in residents' yards, but during the day they ride in any direction to many attractions. We chose to ride to Deadwood and then to Keystone, or Mount Rushmore. It was a great ride. We had to stop several places on the way to escape downpours. One place was just a few tents set up in a campground by several charitable organizations selling food and souvenirs. We quickly changed into dry clothes and had a snack, then rode on to Mount Rushmore.

This is a news report of an accident that happened just a few minutes ahead of us. We saw the emergency crew working as we fought our way through the storm.

Motorcyclist Survives Lightning Bolt
New West policeman thought he was dying after being blasted off bike in Wyoming

Gerry Bellett
Vancouver Sun
August 17, 2005

A New Westminster police detective is contemplating getting a Harry Potteresque lightning tattoo for his shoulder to offset the three unexpected tattoos he received to various parts of his body when a lightning bolt blasted him off his motorcycle last week.

Terry Wilson's back is still marked with a huge fern-shaped impression (a common feature for those struck by lightning, he says) that covers him shoulder to shoulder and tapers off down his spine -- although it is gradually diminishing. But he'll forever carry a five-centimetre-long slash at the base of his neck -- where a million or so volts hit him -- and a 15-centimetre slash where the thunderbolt exited at the base of his spine.

"I don't think they'll be going away any time soon," he said.

"It's amazing how many people survive lightning strikes -- I think it's about 80 per cent live through it -- but I was also riding a bike at the time so I'm very fortunate in more ways than one," he said. At the time of the strike Wilson and his friend Ewan Moir were on the way home from the bikers' Mecca -- Sturgis, South Dakota -- where upwards of half a million bikers were gathered for the annual rally.

"I'm too old to hang around to party, so for us it was a case of getting there, getting the T-shirt and leaving," said Wilson, 40, a member of the New West police domestic violence squad. After three days of riding they arrived in Sturgis last Wednesday morning and left that afternoon. A couple of hours later, they were on the I-90 in Wyoming when they saw a huge storm on the horizon.

"When the rain started we put on rain gear. It was the heaviest rain I'd ever seen. It was like riding into an ocean wall. I had a bandanna around my face and I could see Ewan riding ahead.

"Then one minute I'm riding my bike doing about 35 miles an hour, the next thing I know I'm sliding head first down the road and I can't feel anything. It was like the feeling you get when your leg goes asleep. My whole body felt like I was wrapped in foam and while I'm sliding I realize I can't breathe. I can't draw air into my body.

"I was told later that when lightning hits it shorts out the electrical impulses in the brain and so the brain stops telling the lungs to breathe.

"I think I'm dying and I've no idea what's happened." His pal Ewan didn't realize what had happened, but another biker following saw the flash as lightning hit him.

"He saw my hands come off the bars and watched me fall while the bike skidded off about 75 feet down the road. He came rushing up. He was like an angel. I'd flopped over like a Raggedy Anne doll onto my back and I'm yelling, 'I can't breathe,' but then I realized if I could yell I could breathe," Wilson said. His rescuer summoned emergency crews and within minutes firefighters were there and prevented him from moving his head in case he'd suffered a spinal injury from the strike or slamming onto the road. Wilson said feelings gradually started returning through his arms and legs, although there was still numbness to his left arm.

He was admitted to the Campbell County Memorial Hospital where he was given a CT scan to make sure his neck wasn't broken by the strike, which hit him at the joint of the skull and neck. He was kept in hospital for 24 hours as a precaution against heart failure as lightning victims produce what could be lethal amounts of enzymes within a day of being hit.

"When you read that lightning can hit you with a million or half a million volts. I'm a police officer and am trained with Tasers and they only carry 50,000 volts so being hit with something 100 or 200 times that -- holy smokes!"

We started back to Gillette with the hope a squeezing in one more quick ride to Devil's Tower. (there was a strange magnetic-like pull to the mountain -- this means something) but, we were running short on gas -- both literally and figuratively. About 30 miles from Gillette we noticed the sky suddenly darkening in the direction we were headed. Not to let a little rain intimidate us, we drove on, only to find ourselves in a drenching downpour, complete with hail, thunder, and lightening. We were wet, cold, and not just a little concerned, but continuing on seemed the safest of our options. We were so close to our home for the evening! We did make it, and when Dick had helped Shirlene unclench her hands from the grips of her motorcycle, we held each other for a moment. Happy to be on solid ground. We couldn't wait to get in our room and dry off, but as our luck would have it, we had to wait. There had been a power outage, and our keys wouldn't work. It took the front desk one hour to get us help, and then, all that had to be done was use the master key. We were wet, and not happy. The motel, needless to say, bought us a great steak dinner and cut our room rate. Those final hours of the evening could not distract from the great day we had experienced.