Why middle-aged men and women would travel across the country to relive their teen rites is an interesting question. Any thoughts welcome.
So I said, No, so tell me what I'm going to see.
She had a one-word reply. "Boobs."
Sure enough, in Sturgis I found a biker sitting on his bike with a whole pannier full of Jesus material, a mother and several young kids walking around handing out leaflets and a booklet titled "Can You Prove There Is No Hell?", which I could not resist. There was also a poster for Christian Motorcyclists for America, positioned somewhat unfortunately next to another poster that said "Dirty Girls: For the girl who doesn't mind being dirty."