The highway from Maine to the Midwest is lined with many things: The Green Mountains of Vermont roll into the mileage signs along Canada’s Route 401, in kilometers, of course. The construction cones along Illinois Interstate 80 are a constant reminder that Maine is not alone in the summertime repair craze. Up crop the Iowa cornfields, with endless miles of green stalks.

Along with the maize that starts in Davenport, another sight and sound compete with blue sky and country music on the radio. With a roar and flash of chrome, Harleys, Kawasakis, Yamahas, Suzukis, Hondas, BMWs and Indian motorcycles, along with numerous brands of custom-built choppers, fly by in both directions.

Iowa’s cornfields give way to prairie land as the road sign announces “Welcome to South Dakota”… home of Mount Rushmore, the Badlands and … the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. It is here along Interstate 90 that weary travelers face the final 360-mile stretch along a straight, narrow, two-lane highway. But each passing cycle beckons Sturgis enthusiasts onward. The rumble of each engine hints at what’s ahead.

To a traveler entering Sturgis at midday, a motorcycle wreck just outside the Black Hills town provides a quick reality check on the pent-up excitement. However, reaching Main Street is the geographical equivalent of “Hog Heaven.” Harleys and cycles of all styles, shapes and colors have literally taken over. For most of the year, Sturgis numbers about 6,400 inhabitants. But for 10 days in August, the population swells to 450,000.

A walk down Main Street is like walking through a motorcycle Mecca … cars are prohibited. In their place are thousands of parked bikes as far as the eye can see in both directions. And with them are thousands of people.

Leather is a common theme for the rally and T-shirts with every saying imaginable scream for attention on the main drag. One man, wearing a wolf skin complete with the head, is happy to pose with anyone wanting a picture. Another, dressed as a gorilla on a bicycle, is busy doing the same. Tattoos are another popular form of self-expression. Most bikers have an arm, chest or leg full of them … and if they don’t, they’re sporting bandages from recent inkings.

Don’t expect to buy a pair of hiking boots or a polo shirt at the many stores along Sturgis’ main drag or surrounding side streets. The normally shuttered buildings in this tiny Plains town are owned or leased by bike rally vendors who open them for the 10-day festival.

“It takes four hours to set up and we are selling,” said Renegade Classics T-shirt storeowner Kent Mortimer, who leases his building to a year-round pool hall that moves its tables out during rally time so Mortimer can sell leather jackets, T-shirts and jewelry. T-shirts, a Sturgis rally staple, range from three for $21 to $30-plus throughout the town.

Making your own fun is the rule at Sturgis. Sitting in a kids’ pool along Lazelle Street, Jill Bertland, Kari Lindbloom and a man identifying himself only as Dennis drink beer and spray water from a hose at pedestrians and bikers on a 95-plus-degree day. The trio from Fergus Falls, Minn., are staying at a small house along with several friends. “To tent, bunk or sleep on the lawn, it’s 20 bucks,” said homeowner Barry Lindbloom. He estimated the crowd at the house that night at 45 people.

While there are Motocross races of all kinds to watch all day, and nightly entertainment, the true spirit of Sturgis is found behind the handlebars of a Harley, with the rattle of exhaust pipes in your ears, cruising the natural wonders just outside town.

“It’s the best riding in the world, most beautiful riding you could possibly see.” said Lou Weisenbacher, a retiree from Beacon Falls, Conn. Weisenbacher, along with his wife, Ginny, led an impromptu tour along the Iron Mountain Road, which runs through the Black Hills National Forest. Its close proximity to Mount Rushmore offers many views of four U.S. presidents as well as several tunnels carved through the mountains.

The first stop is Custer State Park, which has bragging rights as the set of the Kevin Costner movie “Dances with Wolves.” While no wolves are seen, prairie dogs pop up from their holes, enticing motorists to ignore the “No Feeding” signs. Wild donkeys follow suit, sticking their heads into stopped cars and looking for a handout. The journey continues along the breathtaking Needles Highway, where spires of rock shoot toward the blue sky, springing up from the pines like flowers stretching for the sun.

After a half-hour ride north along Route 385, the casino town of Deadwood appears. This is a Wild West town, where an hourly gunfight by a group of actors leaves all but one of them dead in the street. A hearty round of applause from tourists brings them back to life.

The Weisenbachers join other riders here, stopping at the Number 10 Saloon to sip sarsaparilla, view the execution chair of Wild Bill Hickok along with life-size heads of other notorious Western outlaws lining the bar. As Weisenbacher’s gang stops for a brief bathroom and fuel break, a traveling reptile activist offers to photograph them with a 20-foot python draped around their necks. The more daring members accept the offer, while the others retreat to the safety of their bikes.

With the sun now starting to fade in the sky, the rumble of Harleys trails off into the vast openness of the prairie as the group crosses into Wyoming. The riders push on toward Devil’s Tower, stopping just a mile short of the monolithic upthrust of stone, made famous in the movie “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” to diagnose an electrical problem on one of the bikes. Standing on a trail at the base of the 867-foot-tall rock, the bikers take pictures before donning leather jackets for the ride back.

Talk turns to what will be pursued the following day – an up-close look at buffalo or perhaps a trip to the Badlands National Park. Around Sturgis, no matter where you choose to go or what you choose to do during rally time, sightseeing adventures and glorious riding are a guarantee for those who delight in the two-wheeled mode of transportation.

Kevin Bennett is a Bangor Daily News staff photographer. He can be reached at kbennett@bangordailynews.net.