McDonalds will do if I have enough battery power and TUMS but really, it does have to be Starbucks. Yesterday, hoping to get to Wisconsin before the DMV closed; I refused to stop. I left Murray Kentucky at 7:30 am and arrived in Platteville, Wisconsin at 10:30pm. Had I slowed down and plotted my ride correctly I would have ridden the Interstate to Chicago and then ridden the Interstate to Beloit, arriving many hours sooner. But no, I can be extremely pig headed at times, much to my own detriment. I wanted to get as close to the border as possible and put myself on a straight line across the country so I plotted map quest to the furthest corner. Map Quest tried to tell me to keep to the Interstate but I refused to listen. So my ride was one of those all day lessons. I spent much of the day kicking my self, cursing Map Quest and finally saying; “It’s OK, I’ve never been on this road before; how interesting a new place, cheer up Al you may never see any of this stuff again!” In reality rows of corn look the same at mile 300 as they looked at mile 2. The smell of cow crap is well hidden in the interior of Illinois because I know I would not have been so saturated had I taken the Interstate.

I zigzagged all over Illinois and ended up close to where I would have ended up 5 hours earlier had I listen to Map Quest. I learned a valuable lesson yesterday. One leg at a time!

I pulled my bike close to the DMV, which by the way is only open on Mondays and Fridays in this town. Thank God my guardian angels took me to the right town at least. If they can’t talk some sense into me, they can get me lost enough to end up in the right place.

I put my bike cover over Tiger Lily and slept on her in a parking lot. The DMV people were in at 7, I was out by 7:15am and I’m a person again. Isn’t it crazy that a person can’t even rent a hotel room with out ID? Cold hard cash is not a motivator any more. Now they feel the need to Google you is much more important. Actually maybe I should have suggested that. My face is on Google; they could see I am me. Holy crap an epiphany!

I’m in Waterloo Iowa waiting for a break in the heat. I promised my sister I’d stop between 11am and 1pm so my brain didn’t get fried. And Starbucks is here. Yeah!!
From here I’m going to try I-35 to Sioux Falls SD and try to stay on the Interstate all the way across SD.

Peace,
Alystar

When I was a kid my favorite memories of the morning were the smell of coffee and the quiet murmur of guys around the table chatting about the state of the world. Being a military kid it was usually politics. Today Herald (Valdez), his friend Ray (Rat) and his woman Irene made my morning a blessed morning because we did just that.

I’ve said it a million times and my mind has not changed. Bikers are the epitome of God’s word. The outward expression of what we believe every good American to be. Pure to the core and ready to take you in if you give them the same respect they give you. (Posers not withstanding)

Thanks to Herald Hitt, my family grew exponentially today.

Today is a good day!

Off to Murray, KY.

The riders were of course the saving grace and far too good for the cast of jokers who were putting this thing on. I have yet to see the footage I shot for nine thousand miles except as I was transfering it to the mac of the writer/director/camera man/actor/dj/used car salesman/plumber that was given the task of editing it. Nope I’m finished talking about it for now. It was one of those moves I made without council. Not one I would make again. Although now that I have council I’m not really finished talking about it.

I call Jon and ask where he is. He says he’s on the interstate heading toward Ft. Lauderdale. OK he is NOT following the riders. I am at least two hours behind the starters, God only knows where Jim and his group are but I keep on the trail. Rob and Bear catch up so I ride with them for a while. We’re in the Everglades it’s hot as hell but really pretty. Jon calls, he’s be at the first checkpoint only for a short while then he’s headed to Mobile Alabama area could I just catch the Interstate and meet him there. I ask him to stop and let me catch up with him but he says they need people at the next checkpoint.

I tell Bear and Rob I have to catch the 75 Interstate. Bear says, “Don’t leave! I have a bad feeling about this. Just stay with us”. But my job is different from their job so I assure him I’m fine and I’ll see them at the next checkpoint. 1 a.m. I’m dead tired. I pull into a rest stop outside Tampa. The guard asks me to park close to his truck so he can keep an eye on me. I do. I ask him to wake me at 4 a.m. He says he will. I lay on top of Tigerlily pull my cover over me to keep the mosquitoes out and fall asleep.

At 4:30 a.m. my eyes pop open, I shove my cover into my saddlebag, wave at the guard in his truck and take off. I can’t even count on the cold air to shoot some energy into me because there is none. Thirty minutes into the ride Tigerlily starts blowing oil all over me. I shut her down and glide down an off ramp. It’s too dark to see what the problem is but I lock her down and walk to the nearest gas station. I call my best friend in L.A. and explain the problem even though I don’t know exactly what it is. I buy oil at the station, walk back to Tiger and pour oil into her. The oil pours out all over the ground. I don’t have a flashlight because stupid me put my entire pack in the back of a truck headed for some place other than where I am.

I’m great about having Tiger serviced. I had a full service done a week earlier at my favorite dealership. Kutter H-D in Janesville, Wi. Since I’d left home two months and 14 thousand miles ago I had her serviced four times. Texas, DC, NC and Wi so I wasn’t too worried. Not that I hadn’t had my share of problems. I had started this ride with a friend whose bike broke down nine times by New Orleans so I sent him home there by ending the friendship. In N. Carolina something flew out from under a truck and hit my front tire ruining it. In DC my starter went out. In Wi. I replaced my battery. I had quite a bit of trouble with the air shocks and an exhaust leak. But there was always someone there (put there by a kind Universe looking out for me no doubt) to sort it out and this would be no exception.

I had been Facebooking and Tweeting the entire ride so I wrote on Facebook I was broken down near Tampa. At 5 a.m. the dealerships and service stations weren’t responding but Facebook was open for business and I got an immediate response!

A month earlier in Cherokee I had met a couple Judy and Stumpy. They were straight shooters, easy going and I liked them immediately. Judy had a friend outside Tampa. That friend showed up an hour later with hot coffee and air conditioning. I had pushed Tiger off the ramp and to the nearest open gas station and I was safe but I was truthfully feeling awfully alone. We waited for the tow truck and trucked the bike to this woman’s house. When the sun came up I can see that the bolt that this guy tightened at the start of the run is gone. The cover holding the rods is pulled up and I can see the bent rods. CRAP!!

By the way this woman who didn’t know me from Eve has Fibromyalgia. So the fact that she showed up at 6 a.m. with coffee, took me into her house and offered me a shower and a new toothbrush while she washed my oil soaked clothes was just too much. She will forever be my hero!

When I finally got Jon on the phone my thoughts were to chill out in Tampa, fix Tiger and send him his camera, he could leave my things at the dealership. He said he still needed me on the road because there was no one else on the road. The other camera groups were headed to the Pine Ridge Reservation. So he suggested I leave Tiger there, fly to Mobile where he would pick me up and they would have another motorcycle. He said Jim had a Road King and they would just camera up that bike so bring my mounts and camera’s as well. OK.

I bought a ticket, flew out of Tampa and ended up near Mobile where Jon and the Canadian Kid (still can’t remember his name) picked me up.

When I saw Jon next he still hadn’t found a camera for me. I asked him if he wanted me to get out front and shoot them as they passed and then just fold into the pack. He said, “no I should wait until the pack left and follow behind”. “That sort of defeats the whole ride with the pack, shoot the pack thing doesn’t it?” He said, “No, it’s safer and I would ride with Jim Redcloud and his guys”.

So I returned to the driveway to shoot riders getting mentally prepared. One guy was doing push ups, one guy was playing bagpipes, children were hugging fathers, the Army Rangers were chanting their battle cry. The tension in the air was palpable. Yesterday they were riders on the same adventure, today they were competitors. Except for the chanting Army Rangers there was no more camaraderie.

I ran into a cameraman I knew from Chicago and brought him over to get footage of the Indian doing a ceremony in the driveway. I had directed some footage the day before with this same cameraman and I knew he’d get a really pretty shot.

I should have prefaced this by saying I didn’t just grab a guy with a camera and say, “here let me tell you what to do”. The film industry is very small. And oddly enough, film people run into each other all the time. I’m not talking about these new people who own prosumer cameras, learn how to operate and now have a business card that says writer, producer, director, cameraman, actor, kitchen sink salesman. God bless them but I’m not talking about them.

I was a union grip at the studios since the milk dried on my lips, I’ve been a 1st Assistant Director for more than ten years now and if I run into another crew person I’m friends with, well that system is still in place. So the day prior, this shooter saw me and asked me to set up with him. I did what I do which was to set up interesting interviews, tell him where to shoot and directed the action. Today was no exception. I still wanted footage for myself, he had a great camera and a good eye, I knew we would be able to buy his footage and Jon had not returned so I shot with this guy for a while.

But there were a ton of folks and interviews going on in that driveway. As Carl and I were shooting the Indian in the driveway I saw Chris Callen walking through the people. I jumped in front of him and said “Hey Great you made it!” He said, Where’s Rob? I said, “I haven’t seen him”. And Chris was off. The girl from Vagabond Choppers passed me. I said, “Hi” and she just stared. I figured she was either really tired or didn’t remember me from the interview at her shop a few days earlier. It felt strange but I know when I’m busy and focused I’m not too chatty myself so I turned my attention back to shooting.

Jon showed up and said the Florida highway patrol had given them fifteen minutes to move out instead of the slower paced groups they had set up for, so Jim Redcloud arrived and suddenly the bikes began to move. They rumbled past the Indian who was using a large feather to wave smoke in their direction as they passed. It was quite interesting. I figured it was some sort of blessing. After the bulk of the motorcycles left there were a few guys who hadn’t heard about the switch up. They came outside from the restaurant with “where’d everybody go?” looks on their faces. One guy who was really angry was assured that in a two week run, a few moments or even a few hours was not going to make any difference in the least. He didn’t want to talk about it but he settled down and rode off.

Jon came to get me, I was taken to a hotel room where I was introduced to some of Jim Redclouds crew. All white guys except Mr. WhirlingHorse and his son, (just an observation). A young french kid from Canada, an older guy Chuck, Peacekeeper (Terry) from Michigan, A young woman Sydney or something like that and Jim’s wife Beth. I was handed a camera for my motorcycle. We returned to the parking lot where Peacekeeper, Chuck, Jim and a few other men were parked. I retrieved my motorcycle and attached their camera to my front mount and removing my windshield because this camera was longer than mine. There was also a truck with a trailer. Jon suggested I leave my personal gear in the back of the truck. This was another one of those “my heads up my butt moments”! I know that being separated from my gear is never a good idea, NEVER! But Jon assured me he’d be on the route right behind me so my stuff would be readily available.

OK. So my job at this point is to ride with Jim and his guys. Get the intro to the race with this group and then chase after the other riders. We’d trailer between checkpoint locations then I’d unload and ride with groups as they left. I’d also be interviewing riders and support teams at the checkpoints. I asked for a map of the directions and was given a map of the first leg. I asked Jon for the entire route so I could hit the highway and move ahead of the group because it was already an hour past the start. There would be riders strung across the state. A thousand riders is not a lot of people when you think of the distance. Jon told me he’d get a map of the route at the next stop but he didn’t have one then.

OK. Rob Keller and his son roll up. Another guy named Barry rides up as well. Jim tells me that they call him Bear. I don’t know if he is a long time friend but they seem to know him and he will be riding with this group. He and Rob are chatting and seem to be getting on quite well. Barry says he was a Navy Seal but is out of the Navy now. I ask him which seal team and he says the same seal team as Chuck and Jim. Someone comes to me and gives me some green dusty weed sort of stuff and tells me to rub it on my face. Jim hands me a yellow strand of braided grass and tells me to keep it on my motorcycle. As these guys are preparing to get on the road, I’m asking Jon about the ride. Where should we meet, what is the first stop. Where are the other crews?

I’m told the other crews had gone ahead to the first stop to shoot the riders coming in. And that there is another guy named Cleveland who’s following some guy specifically and he will be at the next stop as well.
I give my friend Rob some of my potassium pills and Bullfrog. We chat a few moments about nothing. One of the guys says it looks like I have a bolt loose on my bike. He gets an alan wrench and tightens it. I walk around shooting Jim and his friends as they get ready to ride. Jon Compton and the Canadian kid (I’m sorry I’ve forgotten his name at the moment) will be in the truck. There are about eight riders and me in this group. At about an hour and a half after the competitors leave, we leave the parking lot heading out of Key West, Florida.

At first I was in the middle riding with Rob just ahead and Bear beside me. About a mile or two out of Key West Chuck rides up beside us and motions to pull over. We do. He walks back to us, obviously pissed off and says, “Don’t wave at other riders, we don’t do that. You understand!” then he turns around and walks to his bike leaving Rob, Bear and I with “What the fuck was that?” looks on our faces. I have no idea what the guys behind me are thinking but I’m thinking this is going to be an interesting ride and I’d better keep that camera pointed in this guys direction. Everyone takes off. Rob is driving ahead of us now and he’s going very slow. Possibly he’s afraid to get near Chuck, I don’t know. The speed limit is low and one ticket kicks you out of the run for the money but I can feel the group behind us edging up. Any moment I think they are just going to shoot past us and be gone.

I’m a proud person, I’m a very brave person but let me tell you now. I made some huge mistakes this summer that almost slayed me. It’s taken me three months to actually sift through the rubbish of the worst choice I made this year and make some sense of it.

I’ll tell it to you the way it came to me. Some of it does not make sense even now. But then I erroneously believe that all people are inherently good and they do stupid or bad things because they are tired or lost.

I went to the Big Mountain Run on the invitation of a friend who was going to be there. It was great fun, a well run party. I met Chris Callen, the organizer. I had met him briefly before at a trade show, someone introduced me, I got a card for Cycle Source magazine and that was it. No big thing. So at the Big Mountain Run I meet him again, I sit with a large group around a camp fire, nice chat, warm night. No big thing. I enjoyed the run and wrote an article for my site “Road to Sturgis” and I also send it to Cyril Hughes Blog.

After the run, I ended up in Chicago at the house of Gina Woods. Gina owns “Open Road Radio” in Chicago. I met her in 2003 during the 100th Anniversary of HD. We had kept in touch and I had stayed at her house several times during the next seven years as I rode my motorcycle around the country. I liked her very much, she was fun.

When I got to Gina’s house there was a guy who had been at the Big Mountain Run already there. He had the band that played at the BMR. I didn’t know him except I had danced to the band during the BMR. Gina introduced us, his name was Rob Keller. He reminded me of the old pictures from the Allman Brothers Band. He was small, blond, very low-key, one of those men that seem like seventeen year old boys their entire lives. I liked him. I tend to mother everyone so he fit right into my idea of the perfect friend.

I learned that he was picking up a motorcycle from the new Indian dealer that Gina was working for and that he was going to do this motorcycle race from Key West Florida to Homer Alaska.

Wow, very cool. He had driven to Chicago from Pittsburg on the Indian which he had picked up a week earlier in Chicago but now had returned to get bags, engine guards and a windshield. Why they didn’t put them on in the first place is a mystery. He now had just a few days to get down to Florida. He wasn’t going to get more than a few hours of sleep between arriving in Chicago to leaving for Key West. I offered to ride down with him.

At 5am we left for Key West. The Indian had an electrical malfunction a few miles from Gina’s door so we pulled over and tore out the tool kit. We figured it out, wrapped a few wires and we were off again. We moved fast through the Chicago traffic and headed straight down the map as the crow flies. Stopping only long enough for gas and my videos we practically flew. We stopped at night, slept on the ground beside our bikes and kept on like that all the way to Florida.

During the ride we learned that Robs son was coming to Key West to see his father off. Rob was ecstatic. From that point on all he talked about was how much he loved this kid. I have a great appreciation for men who love their kids. I didn’t grow up with one so I like it.

In Florida we arrived at Vagabond Choppers. Chris Callen was there working on his motorcycle. I interviewed him and he told me this heart warming story about how his father had passed away the day he bought the bike. And how his mom had also passed and he carried his mom’s ashes in the bike. It was an amazing story. One of those sweet stories that help you see the humanity in a big burly biker.

Within the hour Rob Keller and I were back on our bikes and headed for Key West leaving Chris to finish putting his bike together and catch up. We arrived in Key West at 3am, checked into a hotel, took a shower, slept for a minute and made it to the check-in. Gina Woods had flown in and was already setting up to do a radio show. She asked me if I’d do the show with her. I had been interviewing people for the “Road to Sturgis” site so I invited some of the guests I’d interviewed to be on Gina’s show.

After the radio show a man, Jon Compton approached me and asked what I was shooting for. I explained I was working to produce a film next year called “Road to Sturgis” and I was just pre-publicising it before I shot it. Unusual? Yes. A good idea? Yes! No one had done it before and a publicist friend of mine had suggested since my film is about a woman rider, and I ride, this would be an interesting thing to do. No need to ask me twice. My butt was in the saddle a month later.

Jon explained he was producing a show for the Discovery Channel. Oh very cool. We talked a bit about the changes in TV to reality programs. I told him I didn’t have any history with reality. I had worked below the line most of my life, I prefered independent features now but that was as close to reality as I got. And then I got back to work.

I shot everybody I thought was interesting. I found some great stories. A woman riding with her dog. Military Special Forces guys. Breast cancer survivors. I avoided the guys Jon Compton was zeroing in on. The guys with bag pipes, signs and gimmicks.

Later I ran into Gina who was with a man, John White. He asked us to come to a get together he was having in his suite. When we arrived we were introduced to his company. I was told they had a show on the air about Pile Driving (what ever that is). I was told his company was currently negotiating with the US Govt. to stop the oil leak off the coast of New Orleans and tomorrow John would have to fly to that meeting. I was told the story about how he had a motorcycle company called, “Crazy Horse” and how Jim Red Cloud had an issue with that so he had to go to SD to meet about the name. And even though he had the rights and the copyright to the name “Crazy Horse” he had decided to change the company to The Hoka Hey Motorcycle Company. In fact they gave me a t-shirt.

I didn’t know you could copy write a name. Well actually you can’t. Perhaps he was confusing his words. But then during the press conference with the riders in attendance Jim Red Cloud told this story about how this guy John White had used the name “Crazy Horse” and well… the same story I had just heard. Perhaps the Indians were a controlling factor to that name. Who knows. Boy was my friend Joann Bortels from Crazy Horse Painting going to be surprised.

Late that night I meet back up with Rob Keller, his sons bike is in florida in a shop it blew a gasket or something but it has full coverage so HD will get him on the road fast. Chris on the other hand is having a problem with his bike and may have to buy a new bike for the run. What do I think. Well, if it comes to buying a new bike or missing the run I say go get a new bike. I continue shooting, I run into Gina again who says Jon Compton is looking for me. OK. I get off the property, go for a ride, have dinner in a quiet place. I get more tape because I’m going to shoot the exodus out of Key West.

And then tomorrow I’m going to toss myself into the warm warm waters of Key West. So far I have seen nothing of Key West. In fact since we arrived in the dark I didn’t even get to see the landscape as I drove in.
I’m expecting Jon Compton wants to buy some of my footage or at least have a look at it but I’ve been shooting interviews all day and I am not going to squeeze the rest of my time that I have to shoot these riders with viewing my footage. Ain’t gonna happen.

At almost midnight as I’m exiting the hotel bar after interviewing the US Army rangers I bump into Jon and his wife. They say they’ve been looking for me all day. I tell them I’m sorry I haven’t had a moment. Jon says we would like to hire you to ride with the riders and shoot the Hoka Hey. What do you think?

I don’t know. I’ve not had a lot of sleep. What are you paying? What would the job entail?

We don’t have any camera’s on bikes. Can we put camera’s on your bike, and have you ride with the pack. You can shoot the accidents if any. Find the interesting stories as you see them. Don’t forget it’s for Discovery. We will pay you your regular rate what ever that is.

And maintain my motorcycle? Yes. And pay for gas? Yes of course all expenses. We’re a class act, I’ve been a producer for a long time. Give me your personal info and I’ll get a contract from my exec producer in the morning.

I give them a card but say…

(And here is where I make a mistake of monumental proportions.)

OK listen I have to get some sleep. If I decide yes, then I’ll be here at what time? What time is crew call?

6am.

OK If I don’t die tonight because I am so exhausted then I’ll be here.
I return to the room, Rob is asleep. His kid has arrived. Nice kid. I fall out.

The Hoka Hey Challenge was created to bring awareness to the world about the contaminated water on the Pine Ridge Reservation and surrounding areas. It was created to remind us that there are military veterans on that same reservation who still wait for their American brothers and sisters to hold out a hand. It is not about me or any one of the organizers or the participants. Yes, the controversy drives the press in the right direction and I think this is a good thing because it brings more eyes to the subject. But the fire storm of misinformation is absolutely absurd.

Newspaper reporters such as Sean Pearson from the Homer Tribune who obviously got his misinformation from the Rapid City Journal. And Ruth Brown the “reporter” who not only was allowed to publish the rantings of a disturbed women but did so without actually checking the facts had me shaking my head. The National inquirer is probably the best paper for this women to submit to although I’m not sure she would actually be excepted by them unless and until she discovers the rules of punctuation and spell check.

I am exhausted by the ride, I haven’t had a moment to slow down and take stock, my intentions and ethics are questioned at every turn, the people who are normally part of my team are not here and I’m constantly scratching my head at the chaos everyone seems to want to bathe in. But as far as being right here in the middle of the action I have to say…Bravo to Beth and Jim for pulling this off!

This grass-roots effort by a very frustrated Jim Red Cloud, a Vietnam vet to bring attention first to a water problem in his home town and then to the lack of care for the hundreds of military veterans in his community has been a tremendous success. Jim Red Cloud took two years of his time and two hundred thousand dollars of his own money to create an interesting marketing tool in order to stop the deaths of his friends and neighbors. He is so passionate about his community, so frustrated with the inaction of his government state and local to fix this problem that he threw himself into the fore front of a firestorm. Anytime you choose to speak out you will be hammered. You will have people shooting at you. We all know this and it makes most people cower and run for cover. Not Jim Red Cloud. Thank God he had such a harsh upbringing. Thank God he was a throwaway child because only someone who has pulled themselves up after a beating has the strength to withstand the firestorm Jim Red Cloud finds himself in.

I have always found it odd that sheep require a guard dog to keep the wolves at bay and yet if that dog is bitten by the wolf the sheep will turn on the guard dog. They won’t do it alone because they don’t have the guts for that but they will behave like a pack and destroy their own protector. Thereby destroying themselves in the process.

I’m normally not disturbed by what people say because I can’t change direction based on the accounting of one guy because in a few moments someone else will be along and they will have a differing opinion and then I’ll have to change again. Annoying, tiresome and ridiculous. Right now I find myself dancing with the idiosyncrasies of the players, some so absurd that I feel like I’m in a cartoon.

But I never forget it’s about veterans and the water. It’s about the Americans who want to live forever and raise healthy children. It’s about the mother who would love to bathe her child during the winter when the snow is four feet deep and not have to carry her children outside through the snow to take them to the toilet. It’s about the woman who lives in a one room shed with two daughters and no running water, no heat and a roof that is not a roof at all but some plywood tapped into the ceiling to keep the water out. And it’s about her oldest daughter, a United States Marine who didn’t join because she was looking for a home with warm air and running water but because she believed in the ideals of this country. That all men and woman are created equal. That the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness are not just guaranteed to the rich. And it’s about, if that U.S.Marine returns to the home with no running water, if she returns missing a leg or an arm or God forbid in a box like the children of the Gold Star Mothers…will her American brothers and sisters be there to support her or her family? Or will they leave her lying in the doorway waiting in despair the way so many before her have been left?

And I continue to bark, and sometimes I grab the closest pant leg and get a kick for my efforts. “Stop it! Sit! Stay!”

Americans are dying in South Dakota. The aquafer near Pine Ridge is contaminated with Uranium and people are dying. Many of the homes have no water and people are dying. I am not crying wolf…but I am crying. When is someone going to listen?

We don’t need to point fingers. It doesn’t matter anymore why and how it got this way. At this moment Americans are dying. In our very rich, proud and powerful nation our people, my people are dying! We need to fix it. Just like the day I rode my motorcycle to help in the aftermath of Katrina and lived on her for two months while I lent a helping hand to every black, white, two-legged, four-legged American I could find; I am here my hands stretched out to help every red, white, two-legged, four-legged American I can find.

I need your help. I can’t do it alone. Lets put our heads together in a very organic and human way the way we always have and fight this problem because as Americans that’s what we do.

America is the only country in the history of the world to defeat a superpower and inturn came a superpower. It says a lot about us as people. If we can do that, we can fix this.

Help me!

One of the policemen said he layed down to take a nap along the road today and when he opened his eyes a bear was walking toward him. He jumped up, mounted his bike and took off.

When we arrived in Fort Saint John, Canada I saw a group of Hoka Hey riders standing at the corner so I yelled “Hoka Hey”. One of them said later that they thought they were about to get flashed and said’ “Uh oh hide your eyes guys here we go again!” Then they recognized me! He said it was great to see a familiar face so far from home.

Canada is so beautiful it makes me cry. To be surrounded by this kind of beauty is a gift from God. The riders I’ve interviewed have said the same thing. The rider from Arizona told me he stops and takes pictures because no money is worth missing this and that he had planned to see this his entire life but never got the chance so…

There are still fourteen hundred miles to homer and I would prefer to keep going but we have been warned over and over about the moose. So after seeing two moose standing along the side of the road as we pass, I am in agreement that we should stop for the night such as it is. We have been traveling for over 16 hours now and there is no end to the wildlife, beautiful mountains and nice people. The Canadians have been curious and very helpful. Even the Canadians are offering the guys something to drink and a place to rest their heads in their homes and front yards. Unbelievable.

His grand daughters who cooked for three days straight were kind, happy and so accomodating that we were humbled by the fact that these women who stood at the stove for three days straight cooking and taking care of riders all day and night live in homes with no running water.

My crew and I asked and were offered the opportunity to go into their homes and see how they lived. The people in this community have no running water because it is polluted by Uranium from the mining company. To use the toilet they go outside even in the dead of winter which if you know South Dakota is bitterly cold and the snow can be two feet deep. They have no heat except for the space heaters, no showers, no bath tubs, no laundry facilities and the homes they live in are not as good as the homes I have seen in Mexico. My heart went out to them and I had to ask why has this been allowed to go on.

We Americans take care of people all over the world. Haite got a new water system. Africa has a ton of people and organizations throwing in to get water to it’s people. What about American people here? How were these people over looked? And how can we fix this oversight.

You all know how I feel about bikers and veterans! They are the heart of America! The last bastion of guts and glory left in America. The real of what America stands for, so it was easy to bring this problem to the Hoke Hey Riders as they came to Chief Red Clouds home. It was no surprise that they all said the same thing. “We’ll be back to help!” “Let’s get out buddies together and get this fixed!” “Are you kidding me? What do you need us to do, just tell us and we’ll get’er done!”

I don’t feel like sorting out why this is happening or who is accountable. That would take years of finger pointing and bullcrap. We just need to jump in and get the problem fixed. In some cases I know the water pipes are in but they have not been brough to the homes. I’m not an engineer or a pipe layer but after the Hoka Hey is done I am returning to South Dakota with my crew and we will take an indepth look at the problems, figure out a course of action and call on all my friends. My friends by the way, of which there are many, are the most honorable people you could ever know. The “do the right thing” hero kind of people. Many of them military veretans, most of them bikers and all of them people you can count on. Is it going to be a grassroots call for help. Of course it is! But we can do it because we are Americans.. We have already learned in the past few years it’s not about race, religion or location. It’s about the haves and have-nots.

If the “haves” working for the Government in Washington won’t help the “have-nots” then we will step up. We are more trust worthy than they are. We are more honorable than they are and we are the only people we can rely on. Americans helping Americans.