Humility of Humankind

By Lance Merz

Just recently, a group that I belong to called the Combat Veterans Motorcycle Association (CVMA) decided to take a trek to the bikers Mecca at a little place called Sturgis, South Dakota. The ride started an enriching trip, riding over the infamous Lolo Pass outside of Lewiston, Idaho, then into Missoula, Montana for the second night (everyone met up the night before in Lewiston).

After departing Missoula, a group of us rode over one of my bucket list rides, called the Beartooth Highway. It is one of the highest paved passes in North America. At its peak, it sits at 10,947ft in elevation. A memory surely that I will never forget. We took pictures at the top and met up with the rest of the group in Cody, Wyoming.

This article has a direct correlation to fishing! Please be patient with this story. You willunderstand here shortly.

We all decided to stay another day in Cody. Did you know that the city of Cody is named after the Famous Buffalo Bill, William Cody? Neither did I. Since I had just rode over the Beartooth Highway, I branched off that day to visit the Cody Firearms museum and the Buffalo Bill Center of the West museum. I am a huge history buff, and I spent a full day there and still did not get to see everything. Later in the day, we all met up and took in a rodeo. Good times had by all!

Here is where the story starts!

We left Cody early in the morning in hopes of beating some of the summer heat. Temperatures had been hovering anywhere from 101 to 95 degrees each day. All the bikes were running fine, and we all took turns laughing at each other with all the dancing we were doing while traveling down the road. Different genre’s different moods; everyone happy. 

Then it happened. Just inside the town of Burlington, Wyoming, my bike took a crap. Uh oh. I was hoping that it was going to be a quick fix. I thought all I needed to do was clean out my air filter and I would go on down the road with no problems. Everyone had stopped and waited for me to get the bike up and running. About that time, an elderly gentleman got out of his vehicle and asked if everything was all right. I explained to him what was happening and what I was trying to do.

Now let me explain this man to you. His name is Robert “Cowboy” Neves, 70 years old, and a shear wad of toughness. Bow legged as all get out; this man talked like Woodrow Call from Lonesome Dove and looked like Merle Haggard. Unbeknownst to me, this was my guardian angel for my trip. He took me to the nearest Napa auto parts store and talked with the local staff there who were gracious enough to allow me to use their air hose. I cleaned the air filter the best I could and returned to the bike. No luck. My bike still would not run. Robert was a jack of all trades and offered to lend a hand to my bike. Admittedly, I am not particularly good at turning wrenches. It is a skill I wish I would have learned at an early age. While all of this is going on in Burlington, half the town (population four hundred) offered some type of assistance in any way they could. Meanwhile, Robert is diagnosing the problem with my bike. He pulled the spark plugs and did everything he could to get me on the road. No luck. He offered to take me to Worland, Wyoming where I had been talking to a bike mechanic who was coming from Cody. I needed to get my bike there and without hesitation, Robert was willing to help. By this time, I had told the rest of the group to go on without me. I did not want to slow anyone down. After all, this was their vacation too.

We went to Robert’s ranch and had great conversations about riding motorcycles, hunting, and fishing. We were in no hurry. His ranch was nothing special. A small trailer, a few horses, and an abundance of beauty. His family homesteaded on the property in the late 1800’s. We hooked up his dual axle; homemade trailer to his 2010 GMC Yukon Denali and went back to the bike. His nephew (Mike) helped us load up the trailer and we were off to Worland.

Prior to that, we stopped in a little town called Greybull to fill up the tires in Robert’s trailer. Coming out of the gas station was a gal I knew!! I am the middle of Wyoming!! Her name was Karen and she was on her way to Sturgis with the owner of the Harley Davidson Dealership in Spokane, WA, called Lone Wolf Harley Davidson. Karen knew that I had purchased the bike from there. She asked what was wrong with the bike, so I told her my best guess. Shortly thereafter, the owner comes over to Robert’s vehicle and says that he would help in any way he could. He also thanked Robert for his graciousness. Karen and I exchanged numbers, and she told me to let her know how things were going.

We got to Worland and started discussing what had happened to the bike. They began to diagnose and two hours later, the verdict was in. The motor had blown. I was dead in the water. I was 272 miles from Sturgis. Without hesitation, Robert offered to take me. Keep in mind, this entire time I had been telling Robert that he had done enough, and I appreciated everything he had done to this point. He would not take no for an answer. We were going. We stopped at his house for a few things, and we were on our way. Over the Bighorn mountains. We left his house at approximately 6:00pm.

Going into the Bighorn mountains was something out of a movie. Sheer cliffs on each side of the valley with a small creek running at the bottom. The terrain was steep with patches of ponderosa pines everywhere. Absolutely beautiful. I took photos outside the window as Robert drove. He talked about his life experiences. His challenging times, his good times, and how many people he helped along the way. I already had the feeling, but Robert had a big heart. As a Vietnam Veteran, he was adamant of not leaving a brother in arms behind. Up until that morning, I had no idea who Robert was.

As we were riding through switchbacks of US Highway 16, Robert’s vehicle began to lose power. So much, that we are unable to go up hill any longer. Turns out, his radiator blew. Now what!?!? Our mission was to get to the Harley Davidson dealership in Gillette, Wyoming. Another three hours away. Robert called his brother John who lived in Gillette and asked him to call a tow truck for him. Robert does not own credit cards. After figuring everything out, a tow truck was on its way from Gillette. The sun was setting, which turned the sky into a beautiful orange hue. I received a text from Karen who relayed that the owner of Lone Wolf Harley told me to get my bike to Sturgis. From there, he was going to ship my bike back to Spokane in his trailer, give me a motorcycle to ride while I was there, AND be able to ride the bike back to Spokane with my original group. Are you kidding me!? Stars began to sparkle and traffic began to slow down. In the complete darkness of the Bighorn mountains, it felt I could reach up and touch the Milky Way. As the night progressed, so did Robert’s battery. We were in complete darkness.

The tow truck arrived at around midnight, and it was short work getting everything loaded up. By this time, Robert and I were spent. We did not have dinner or anything to eat. We were on a mission. Passing over the mountains in the dark was surreal. There were a lot of animals that kept us awake, antelope, elk, deer, and even a fox. Coming down the last stretch of the pass, the driver told us to hold on because he had no breaks! I looked through the side mirror and saw smoke billowing from the rear tires. I started getting a little nervous. Before we knew it, we arrived in Buffalo, Wyoming. It was just another hour and a half to Gillette.

When we arrived, I was ready to settle the bill with the tow truck driver whose name was Robert. I pulled out my credit card, knowing that the bill was going to be big. Yes, it sure was $1,100! Robert told me to put away my card and gave Robert cash. He was insistent. We still had an issue with Robert’s vehicle not having any battery left. Both windows were rolled down while we were waiting on the mountain. The tow truck driver did not have any jumper cables, so we were literally dead in the water. Again, and without hesitation, Robert told me to go to the hotel room that his brother had reserved earlier and get some sleep. He said that he was going to sleep in his car because of all the items he had in there. The other Robert left and came back with some jumper cables to secure his vehicle. By this time, it is 4:00am on Tuesday, August 11.

We woke up to the sound of Robert’s phone ringing at 8:00am. It was his brother John who called to inform us that he was parked adjacent to our vehicles. I was so tired, I slept in my clothes. I woke up and went outside to meet John. John was not as nice as Robert, and rightfully so. The younger brother of Robert, John, knew more than I did. You see, Robert was sick. Extremely sick. He required daily medication for him just to survive and was in constant pain. Something Robert never mentioned to me. He told me that he was not mad at me, but he was just looking after his brother to make sure he did not get taken advantage of. John told me that this was the end of our journey and that he would get me to the Harley Davidson dealership in Gillette and after that, I was on my own. I appreciated both of their help and told them moretimes they wanted to hear. I offered money to Robert again. He took some, but not enough. I gave him all the cash I had in my wallet, which was well over $2,000. He took $100.

After unloading my bike off Robert’s trailer, I had to try and figure out how I was going to get my bike to Sturgis, which was another hour and a half away. I went inside and talked with the service department and explained my story. I had also texted Karen and asked if they could pick up my bike on their way out of Sturgis. She said that would not be a problem. Outside the dealership was a little waiting area. It was really the first time I was able to take a breath. My stomach had been in knots; I hadn’t eaten in two days. I pulled out my luggage and began to charge all my electronics and relaxed. I smoked a cigar and began talking to folks who were sitting around me. I began talking to a man who called himself “T-Money”. He stood all of 5’4” but had the personality of a giant. He was getting some work done on his bike as well, which broke down just outside of Yellowstone. A couple of hours go by and I heard that my group had made it safely to Spearfish, South Dakota the night before. They were planning to ride the needles highway, which is nothing short of majestic. Robert called me and said that his radiator was going to be fixed that day and would take me to Sturgis to finish out the mission. I told him that we should both figure things out on both our ends and let each other know what was going on. He agreed.

T-Money comes out of the dealership and shakes my hand. He thanked me for my military service and yelled across the sitting area to a man called “Alamo.” He asked Alamo if he could get my bike to Sturgis as there was one more spot in his trailer. Without hesitation, Alamo and his wife Alma said, “Let’s go”! We were on the road in ten minutes on our way to Sturgis! Alamo and Alma rode in front of T-Money and I. T-Money was an electrician and all three were from Flagstaff, Arizona. He went on to tell me about his miraculous story of how he was involved in a car crash and was literally dead for 45 minutes but kept coming alive! His entire family went from grief to celebration within hours of each other. Could you imagine? Alamo owned a successful fencing company in Flagstaff. He and his wife were serving as liaisons to their kids who overtook the business. I called Robert and let him know that I was offered a ride.

Before we knew it, we had arrived at the Full Throttle Saloon, which is where I was told to leave my bike. I contacted Karen to let her know where I had parked my bike. I had asked her if she wanted me to wait so that I could pick up the other bike she had offered from the owner. She asked if I was ok renting a bike for the rest of the rally. I immediately saw how this was going to go. Since my bike was under warranty, I obliged. I had asked about riding the bike back to Spokane. Now, she was unsure. I bought my new friends a round of beer and whiskey and again, thanked them for their hospitality. I offered gas money, which they would not take. More guardian angels. I rented a bike and was finally riding in Sturgis!!

I still promise that has to do with fishing!

Spearfish, South Dakota is about 20 miles west of Sturgis. I finally got checked into my motel with time to spare to eat dinner with my group for the first time since the ordeal. Tired? You betcha!! I slept pretty dang good that night!! The next morning, I had to go back to the rental agency to receive another bike. The one they initially gave me was too small. I decided to wait for the rest of the group at an Indian dealership in Sturgis. Long story short, I bought a 2026 Indian Darkhorse Pursuit Power Plus, which is a beautiful bike. Shortly after arriving, I got a call from Robert. He was in town to see us! We spent the day together while processing paperwork. You know, all the boring stuff. I let him ride the rental back to the Full Throttle. Have you ever seen the look on kids’ faces the morning of Christmas with that glow in their eye? That was Robert’s face.

Robert and I parted ways as we were attending a concert. We hugged and I swear I saw a tear roll down his cheek. I rode five miles away and Robert began to head back home to Burlington. The concert was good, but it started getting late. Knowing I was not going to make it back to my hotel, I decided to stay with some other members of the CVMA. They had a cabin with four bunk beds. Sometime early in the morning, I rolled off the bunk bed and woke up in excruciating pain!! I walked outside and called 911. By this time, the pain was so severe, I was screaming.

I was transported via ambulance to the Sturgis emergency room and was told that I had broken my right hip! Since the hospital was so small, I was transported via another ambulance to a much larger hospital in Rapid City, South Dakota, where I underwent emergency surgery. The docs fixed me up nicely and put some hardware in my hip. The pain was excruciating. I could not call Robert. He had already done too much.

I received this surgery on Thursday morning (13 August) and by the afternoon, I was up and walking the hospital floor. I was so excited that I was going to be able to ride with my group back to Washington, but I knew there was no way. Everyone in my group rallied together, secured my bike, arranged for it to be shipped from the dealership, gathered all my belongings, and stored them for transport. They all took turns coming into my hospital room to check on me. Keep in mind that Rapid City is a good 45 minutes from Sturgis. A couple in the group (Jeff and Marla Allsop) stayed behind the main group to ensure I got on a plane to go back home. More guardian angels. I still have not called Robert. What would I say? What would he do?

As I was typing this article for you to read, my eyes were watering. It is not the Sturgis experience I was expecting by any means. But it was an experience all right! I did not get to go on one ride, but I am ok with that. I have been humbled in every way. Just so you know, I am not the type of person to ask for help. I figue things out and get stuff done.

Whether you are halfway across the country, or in your back yard, there are people out there to lend a hand without asking for anything in return. We all have it in us. I have seen it, I’ve felt it. A little goes a long way. In the biking community, there is a saying “it’s not the destination, it’s the ride.” This journey was much more different from that of my brothers (and sisters) in arms. Although it was a huge pain, I appreciate that it happened.

Same applies to fishing. We all want to catch more fish, or bag that big buck or Bull. So, if you are on the water and you see someone struggling, offer. Just ask if they would like any help, whether it is showing them how you rig your rod, or how deep you are fishing. A little bit does go a long way. People appreciate that, more than you will ever know. Today’s society is too busy. We all have our noses in a cell phone or a computer. What matters is what you can do for your fellow man (or woman). You would be amazed by the friendships you can obtain and the bonds that will forever be embedded to make your personality a bit more humbling to humankind. Even if you do not catch a fish, you will have a story that you will remember. I think it is time to call Robert.

Lance