Sounds from the Road

One of the defining elements of my time in South Dakota has been the Sturgis Rally. For an official week, and unofficially, the week before and after the rally, South Dakota gives into the tourist dollars of a half-million Harley-Davidson enthusiasts.

By design, motorcycling is a solitary activity, and I can appreciate how exciting this rally must have been for them. It’s a chance to meet other riders, show off sunglass tan lines and buy leather accessories.

But as someone driving across the country in a hatchback, the rally has been a pain. In South Dakota, I wasn’t able to experience the silence I imagine fills the state during non-rally weeks. And I feel bad for South Dakota residents. Summer there is so short, and three weeks of it are given up to the rumble of motorcyclists. Of course these riders nearly double the population of the state, and the economic benefit outweighs the cost in noise pollution.

When I planned this trip, I had never heard of Sturgis. The timing just worked out to be in South Dakota at the same time as all those bikers. I have a friend who drove out to LA from New Jersey, the timing just worked for her to do the whole trip in five days. Even if driving across the country feels like my American birthright, it’s really an adventure in logistics. It’s not possible to plan the perfect cross-country adventure. Things just time out as they do. 

Loving An Idea

Yesterday, I was in a cave, but a few days before, I was in “The Greatest Domestic Space in America,” Frank Lloyd Wright’s living room in Taliesin in Spring Green, Wisconsin. It was of course beautiful and impractical, a joy to tour but probably impossible to live in. 

I like visiting Frank Lloyd Wright buildings–I’ve seen maybe seven so far–but while flipping through Frank Lloyd Wright Quarterly Magazine in the visitors’ center, I started feeling a bit like a dope. Can you imagine writing the editor’s note to that? What’s to report? Frank Lloyd Wright is still dead and we need more money to repair the leaking? 

After the tour, we went to the Unitarian Church where Frank Lloyd Wright, his family and some of his apprentices were buried. On some graves, the deceased were described by one relationship–loving mother, devoted brother, loyal student. By Frank Lloyd Wright’s grave, there was a quote from the architect himself: “Love of an idea is love of God.”

Speaking of loving an idea, the Sturgis Bicycle Rally is happening all around us in South Dakota. The density of motorcyclists hasn’t stopped being absurd. I don’t know what idea these riders love, but they all seem very happy to be together, wearing leather and talking about RPMs.