STURGIS, S.D. — Stopped by a South Dakota Highway Patrol trooper on the shoulder of U.S. Route 14A heading into Sturgis, a gray-haired biker with twig-thin arms drooped in the saddle of his full-dresser Harley-Davidson. He appears both physically and psychologically dejected, like a kid waiting his turn outside the principal’s office.
Sixty seconds away on Lazelle Street, half a dozen Sturgis city police officers encircled a shirtless man with full body tattoos who was gesturing angrily in the direction of a custom chopper across the road.
One block up on Main Street, deputized lawmen weaves through pedestrian crowds at a healthy clip following a woman who’s saying, “It was a wrench, he was swinging it …”
They disappeared into the midday throng at the same moment an ambulance screamed up Junction Avenue in the direction of Interstate 90.
This is only a 10-block view during a 10-minute window on a Thursday afternoon in downtown Sturgis. Now imagine 10 full days and hundreds of miles of road.
Lawmen at the 85th Sturgis Motorcycle Rally have been busy with violations that run the gamut: assault, trespassing, weapons violations, domestic disturbance, disorderly conduct, drug possession, resisting arrest, theft and, above all, driving under the influence.
“We're still seeing a big number of people that are drinking and using drugs and driving motorcycles. It's just crazy to think that they do that, because as a result we're seeing a lot of accidents on the road,” Mead County Sheriff Pat West told Cowboy State Daily.
Crazy to think, but also exactly what you’d expect, said a clove-smoking rally vet named Cliff.
“If you know anything about bikers, we have fun, we party. Sturgis is a giant party. It’s the freedom to do whatever you want, ride a bike naked if you want,” he said, adding an important addendum. “But you might get messed with by the cops.”
It’s the kind of attitude that can earn you a costly stay in the Meade County jail. And just like the hotels in Sturgis, it’s been booked solid to “standing room only” the last eight days, said Sheriff West.
A Night In Sturgis Jail Isn’t Pretty
Rally arrests are so high that officials resort to an overflow jail, a quasi-retired 1950’s-era jailhouse with metal bars that open and close with a lever-lock mechanical crank.
“We run around 50 arrests through there a night and it's standing room only. It's not the prettiest, but that's what happens,” West said.
Caleb Deyo, head of prison operations, paints a picture of a judicial turnstile that processes wayward rallygoers like sheep through a shearing pen, with the expectation that sheep pens smell better.
“When you have 50-plus drunk individuals that are not happy to be here, haven’t showered in a few days, highly intoxicated — it gets thick back there. Not only the smell, which is obvious,” Deyo said.
It’s a scenario where tempers are known to fly. But quarrels don’t flare up very often in part because there’s a sense of fellowship among the men behind bars in Sturgis, said Deyo.
“We see trouble, but fortunately there’s not too many arguments back there, knock on wood,” he said. “They’re all in the same boat and seem to have some kind of camaraderie because they're there for a similar type of thing.”
Directly overhead are the county courtrooms, which start processing inmates first thing in the morning with the hope of getting them out in time to sanitize the jail before the next day’s offenders start piling in.
For serious offenses or incidents that can’t be quickly processed, inmates are taken to a longer-term, 80-bed jailhouse. But that facility is set to flip on its “No Vacancy” sign.
“We really try to get people processed and flush this jail every 24 hours, because this is the one that needs to keep revolving and if it gets backed up it gets really ugly,” said Deyo.
Not everything in this jailhouse is flushing correctly, including the toilets, according to one man who checked out from his jailhouse stay Thursday afternoon wearing a vintage Sturgis Rally T-shirt.
“There was a broken toilet in there. It smelled really bad,” he said, asking not to be named.
He described the jail space as feeling increasingly tight as the night wore on as newcomers piled in around the clock.
“There’s people laying across the floor,” he said. “Nowhere to walk. Basically, stepping over people. I got a mat to sleep on, but they ran out after a while, and then there were just people on the floor with a blanket.”
For this reason, Deyo said he encourages officers to use leniency within reason.
“I like to hope that our officers try to avoid taking people to jail as much as possible because it's so overwhelming with the processing of people during the rally,” he said. “I joke with them about that in the patrol room.
“I say, ‘Guys, keep in mind how full we are. If there’s a consideration that can be made …’”
Isn't Cheap, Either
Such a consideration might have been made for the guy with the vintage Sturgis Rally T-shirt, in his opinion.
He was parked on a curb with his car window rolled down when an officer poked his head in and saw “trace amounts of marijuana. Less than a joint worth,” by his telling.
Less than a joint’s worth got him a $500 ticket, which will soon find its way into the local school budget and the state’s 911 fund.
Deyo says that in 24 years working enforcement at the Sturgis Rally, he’s seen crime trend from predominantly dope arrests in the ’90s, to an increase in violent crime in the 2000s, and is now trending back to high levels of felony drug crimes.
Police Officers Love Sturgis, Too
Along with outside corrections officers at the jailhouse, the City of Sturgis, Mead County and the South Dakota Highway Patrol all rely on outside help to keep public safety humming during the rally.
They arrive to help from around the country, motivated less from a sense of civic duty than by curiosity.
Garfield County, Montana, Undersheriff Aaron Conner is in his second year at Sturgis, and foresees he’ll be back for a third, fourth, fifth and so on.
“Sturgis was a bucket-lister to come and see. I came last year and kind of got hooked on it. That’s how it is for a lot of these guys. We get to share knowledge, experience and training from all over the U.S,” he said, pointing across the street to an officer from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
On one occasion he assisted in an arrest and another he responded to a domestic violence call. But his role as a temporary South Dakota special police officer has been mild overall. He directs traffic, answers questions and takes in the spectacle.
“The pay is OK, but it's really for the experience,” Conner said.
From roadside busts to tense street confrontations, the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally keeps law enforcement on edge. When the rally gets too rowdy, a small army of cops is ready with handcuffs. (Zakary Sonntag, Cowboy State Daily)
Outlaw Bikers
But don’t let the comparatively tranquil happenings on main street fool you — officers face plenty of danger during the rally, like the high-speed chase that ended in death earlier in the week.
There is also the ever-present tension among motorcycle clubs like the Sons of Silence, Mongols, Pagans and the Hells Angels.
“All those groups sometimes get along, and sometimes they do not,” said Sheriff West, who worked with the Division of Criminal Investigation motorcycle gangs unit earlier in his career. “We try to maintain tabs on them, because we know that there's tensions between them and when those groups show up, we're monitoring them.
“We have contacts with the upper echelons of those groups, and we reach out to them to say, ‘Listen, we do not want any issues so you need to control your members and make sure that they're in line.’ They usually respond well to that, but oftentimes it gets [tense] and things happen.”
In 2006, both Hells Angels and The Outlaws motorcycle clubs arrived in Sturgis in large numbers. Tensions escalated and came to a head in a shootout at nearby Legion Lake.
In 2008, individuals from Hells Angels and Iron Pigs, respectively, got in a fight resulting in exchanged gunfire.
In the early 2010s, West said a “huge fight” broke out between the Hells Angels and the Mongols with mutually inflicted knife stabbings.
In all of these incidents, no one was killed.
“When you’ve got half-a-million people coming through, we do everything we can to be prepared, but kind of like the rally itself, we just react and hang onto saddle horn, so to speak, so we can keep people safe,” said West, who despite over 500 arrests, considers the 85th to be one of the better years.
“With this many people showing up, and we know they're here on vacation and come to have a good time, it's amazing how well-behaved people are.”
Zakary Sonntag can be reached at zakary@cowboystatedaily.com.
