I’ve been a motorcycle rider most of my adult life.
I’m also a mother. A grandmother.
And I’m the president of BikerDown—an organization founded on a simple truth: when one person goes down, entire families go down with them.
Two years ago at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, at the Buffalo Chip, that truth became painfully real.
Aaften was struck and run over by a biker who never should have been on a motorcycle that night. This month, that rider was sentenced to 10 years in prison. The sentence matters. Accountability matters. But if we stop the conversation there, we miss the larger failure that made this tragedy possible.
Because this wasn’t just about one bad decision by one rider.
It was also about over-serving, alcohol control, and laws that protect profits more than people.
Over-Served at the Buffalo Chip
Let’s talk honestly about alcohol at Sturgis—especially at the Buffalo Chip.
The Buffalo Chip is private property. Campers are not allowed to bring their own alcohol onto the grounds. If you want to drink, you must purchase alcohol there. Every beer. Every cocktail. Every shot. All sold and served by the venue.
That matters.
In this case, the biker who hit Aaften was not just impaired—he was severely intoxicated. According to statements from the family, his blood alcohol concentration was reportedly multiple times over South Dakota’s legal limit of 0.08%, approximately four times the legal limit. Witness accounts indicate that after being over-served, the biker rode into a crowded campground as thousands of people were leaving a concert. Rather than riding defensively, he and another motorcyclist chose to drag race. In doing so, he hit and rode over the top of Aaften, turning a pedestrian walkway into the scene of a life-altering crime.
As riders, we know what that means. You don’t reach that level of intoxication by accident. You don’t get there with one drink or even a few. That level requires continued service, long after impairment is obvious to anyone paying attention.
And yet, he was still served.
Then he got on a motorcycle.
Then someone’s daughter was nearly killed.
The Legal Gap That Leaves Families Paying the Price
South Dakota’s legal framework makes this even harder to accept.
Unlike many states, South Dakota largely does not hold bars, bartenders, or alcohol vendors responsible for over-serving adults, even when that intoxicated person goes on to cause catastrophic injury or death. Dram shop liability here is extremely limited. In most cases, the responsibility ends with the individual—no matter how visibly impaired they were when they were served.
That means a venue can profit from alcohol sales, even excessive ones, while families like Aaften’s are left with hospital bills, lifelong care, trauma, and grief.
As a mother and a grandmother, I find that unacceptable.
This Wasn’t Just a Crash — It Was a Family’s Nightmare
Aaften’s injuries didn’t just change her life. They shattered the lives of her parents.
No parent is prepared for the phone call telling them their child has been critically injured. No one prepares you for ICU rooms, medical jargon, endless waiting, and the sickening uncertainty of whether your child will survive—and if they do, what kind of life they’ll have afterward.
For two years, Aaften’s parents have lived inside that nightmare. So have her friends, siblings, and extended family. Lives were put on hold. Futures rewritten. Holidays, milestones, and everyday moments were forever altered.
Through BikerDown, I’ve walked alongside families just like this. I’ve seen the exhaustion in their eyes, the anger they don’t always say out loud, and the quiet strength it takes just to keep going when the world has been turned upside down by one reckless night.
Accountability Can’t Stop at the Handlebars
The rider who hit Aaften is now in prison, and that accountability matters. Riding drunk is not an accident—it’s a choice. Operating a motorcycle while profoundly intoxicated in a crowded campground is not bad luck—it’s criminal negligence.
But accountability cannot stop with the person holding the handlebars.
When alcohol is tightly controlled on private property, when patrons are required to purchase drinks from the venue, and when someone is served to the point of extreme intoxication, responsibility does not magically disappear.
If we want fewer names added to memorial rides and fewer families buried in medical debt and grief, we have to be willing to confront over-serving and the laws that allow it to continue without consequence.
A Message From One Rider to Another
This isn’t written by someone who hates rallies or motorcycles. I love this community. That’s exactly why I’m writing this.
If someone you’re riding with has had too much—step in.
If you’re a bartender, cut them off.
If you run a venue, own what you sell and what follows.
Because being a biker isn’t just about freedom. It’s about responsibility—to each other, to pedestrians, to families who never asked to become part of a tragedy.
Moving Forward
A 10-year prison sentence closes one legal chapter, but it should not close the conversation.
If Sturgis truly represents brotherhood, freedom, and respect, then we must be willing to face the parts of rally culture that put lives at risk. Over-serving is one of them. Legal loopholes that shield alcohol vendors are another.
Aaften didn’t sign up for this. Her parents didn’t either.
And if we don’t demand better—from riders, from venues, and from lawmakers—then we’re complicit in the next tragedy waiting to happen.
At BikerDown, we believe being a community means doing better when we know better.
And now, we know better.
