Run to the Hills
Every August, Sturgis turns into a rolling thunderstorm of chrome, leather, and horsepower. It’s more than a rally — it’s a pilgrimage. And for the 85th, the focus of that craftsmanship and creativity was, Black Hills Harley-Davidson — a place where the pursuit of perfection gleamed from every polished surface and every hand-built machine stood as proof of what dedication can create.
The Builders’ Standard
The customs that lined the lot stood apart — not just for the shine, but for their precision. The candy finishes were impossibly deep, layered like stained glass over sculpted steel. Turbos rose from the frames like mechanical hearts, equal parts engineering and art. Beneath the chrome and polish lay the magic — suspension systems tuned to make even the heaviest hog carve through corners like a sportbike. These weren’t built for show alone; they were built to move.
Every line, weld, and part choice spoke of obsession. You could feel it — that quiet pursuit of perfection that defines true builders. These machines weren’t created to chase trophies; they were built to prove a point. That with grit, grinding, and guts, beauty and performance can live side by side in steel and gasoline.
IT’S NOT THAT KIND OF DRAG.
INSIDE PANDORA’S BOX
THIS IS OUR KIND OF BAGGER.
The Art of Boost
If there was ever proof that American engineering can outthink and outrun the ordinary, it’s Trask Turbo Systems. Their builds don’t just add power — they redefine it. Each setup looks purpose-built for war: precision piping, immaculate welds, and turbos that spool like they’re inhaling the horizon. The craftsmanship borders on surgical, every line and curve designed for speed and strength in equal measure. Trask doesn’t chase attention; they earn it, one boosted bagger and tire-shredding pull at a time. In a sea of custom chrome and candy paint, their bikes speak in a different language — the hard truth of horsepower.
Everywhere you looked, individuality thrived — from low-slung touring monsters to pint-sized customs built purely for the joy of it. The extremes didn’t clash; they harmonized, forming a living gallery of American craftsmanship.
Monkey Business
Angel Dust makes everything faster
As the sun dropped and engines idled in the warm haze, the chrome turned to fire and the air felt heavy with pride. Pride in the work, the will, and the unshakable truth that the spirit of American motorcycling is still wide open on the throttle
Precision in Motion
Kraus Performance builds the kind of machines that hit right in ICON’s wheelhouse — all function, no fluff. Their flavor of custom is equal parts science and savagery, where form follows horsepower with unflinching discipline. From the performance Softail parts every rider drools over to a history of wild one-offs built with engineering specs that could make a SpaceX rocket blush, Kraus represents the high watermark of American fabrication. Every bracket, every machined edge, carries intent — a philosophy that performance isn’t added on, it’s built in. For riders who crave precision as much as power, Kraus is the blueprint.
The Stoopid Chopper Show – Beautifully Wrong in All the Right Ways
Other than our time at Black Hills Harley-Davidson, we set out to experience the fabled tales of Sturgis and its wild outskirts. That road led us straight to the Buffalo Chip, where we stumbled into the legendary Stoopid Chopper Show — a rolling gallery of chaos and craftsmanship. It’s a celebration of bad ideas done beautifully: hardtails held together by faith and good welding, paint jobs loud enough to scare the horizon, and builders who trade polish for pure personality. Every chopper on the field felt born in a garage sometime after midnight — part beer, part brilliance, and entirely American. Call it chaos, call it art, but it’s proof that the soul of custom building isn’t just alive in Sturgis — it’s still laughing, still roaring, and still gloriously stoopid.
In the end, all the precision builds and performance parts circle back to what makes Black Hills Harley-Davidson special — family, craft, and a shared love of the ride. For us at ICON, standing among those machines and the people who built them felt less like a business trip and more like coming home — a reminder of why we started doing this in the first place.